#idk man. i know a lot of us were hit hard by this and there's complicated logistics so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annievrse · 7 months ago

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you know how to ball (i know aristotle)

sukuna x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: college!au where sukuna is the star rugby player, and reader plays in college quiz bowls. w/c: 3k cw: inaccurate quiz bowl rep (i only play jeopardy on tv ok pls ignore the actual content and focus on the point of the fic ok ty), a lot of allusions to suggestive content, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'girl', and wears a skirt. a/n: i i i idk what u were expecting, but it should've been another taylor fic hehe

"Sukuna! Sir!" You turn your head toward the voice. The man beside you huffs deeply but turns anyway, apologising softly.

"Hey, man," Sukuna mumbles, shaking the hand of the Freshman student who's panting like he ran three miles (he probably did). "What's up?"

The kid eyes you up and down like he's never seen a woman before.

"Eyes up here, bro," Your boyfriend bites, giving him a fake smile. The kid nods quickly, gaze avoiding you at all costs.

"Uh–" He stutters. "Gojo was wondering when you were gonna show up to training."

Sukuna pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek. "Tell the freak I'll be there after I walk my girl to her car, okay?"

The kid nods and turns, speed-walking in the direction of the field.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around your head, bringing you into his chest. You giggle at the sudden affection and continue walking to the car park.

"Fucking kids."

"He’s eighteen, Kuna," You laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I had more decency when I was that age..."

Scoffing, you lean back. "You're joking, right?"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow as you descend the steps. "Watch it."

You snicker and pull away from him, digging around in your bag for your car keys. When you spot the miniature stuffed bunny keychain, you grab it.

You can feel Sukuna side-eying you when you unlock the car. "What?"

He points at the keychain. "Is that the little cat thing you begged me for?"

You don't answer, knowing he knows exactly what it is. "Jellycat."

"Huh?" Sukuna's face scrunches up in confusion.

"Jellycat is the brand. And, yes, it's the one you got me. Don't act stupid, idiot."

Sukuna smirks. "I'll buy you more of them if you keep talking to me like that."

Your jaw drops, and you laugh, slapping him on the bicep. "Fuck off."

But before you can open the car door, Sukuna spins you around by the shoulders and presses you into the side of the car, hands roaming under your hoodie.

"I'll see you tonight," He whispers, lips slanting over yours hotly.

"Mmhm," You hum, running your fingers through his hair. Pulling away, Sukuna continues to press sloppy kisses along your jaw. "Be good at practice. Don't spear tackle Gojo again."

Sukuna scoffs. "That was an accident."

Rolling your eyes, you press your hand to his hard chest. "Yeah, ok."

"Bye, baby," Sukuna's hands slide down to squeeze your ass, and you look at the campus entrance to ensure nobody's there.

"Bye, yourself."

He gives you one last slap on the ass, and then he's stalking away, glancing over his shoulder to check on you as you slam the car door closed and turn the engine on.

Entering Shoko's apartment, the smell of burnt toast hits you in the face. You toe your sneakers off at the door and walk toward the cacophony of voices.

"Sorry!" Choso exclaims in the kitchen, wafting the smoke away with his hands. "Not my fault your toaster is fucked."

Shoko gasps and hits him with a teatowel on the leg. She points at him. "Don't talk shit about my appliances when you ruined all of yours!"

You step into the space, drawing the eyes of the three in conversation, and Nanami and Utahime sitting at the dining table with textbooks scattered around them.

"Thank god you're here!" Shoko laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Studying going good?" You giggle, waving at the others.

Shoko glares at Choso over her shoulder. "It was."

Choso throws his hands up in defence, and Shoko turns back to you.

"How's Mr Rugby Player?" She grins.

You smile softly. "He's good."

"Being as annoying as ever, I suppose?" Nanami's voice calls, not looking up from where he scribbles down his notes.

Utahime scoffs, placing her pen down on the table. "Not as annoying as Gojo."

"Yeah, okay. Don't say his name; you'll summon him."

Rolling your eyes with a laugh, you walk into the dining room. You take your bag off your shoulder and put it on the table to remove your laptop. "What topics are we doing this weekend?"

Utahime points at the list of past regional questions. "I'm doing philosophy and fine arts, Nanami's math, and you're literature."

"Okay," you sit at the head of the table. "Choso, history?"

Nanami nods without looking up. "And Sho is doing science, like always."

"Sweet," You mumble before your phone buzzes.

baby 5:23 pm morning practice got cancelled 5:23 pm so coming to your nerd fest tmr

Despite his teasing, you feel the wings of butterflies flutter inside your stomach.

5:24 pm !!!!! 5:24 pm can't wait to see my himbo of a bf in a crowd of nerds!!!

You can almost see him rolling his eyes.

baby 5:25 pm call me that again and you'll be using crutches at your comp

"Quit texting," Shoko says, shuffling her flash cards. "We don't want a repeat of last time."

With your warm cheeks, you lock your phone and toss it into your bag. "Sorry."

"I'm not nervous," You mumble, checking the fit of your skirt in the mirror for the ninth time in ten minutes.

"Yeah, you're perfectly calm," Sukuna grumbles in his pillow. He lays half-naked under the duvet, his voice the only sign of life.

You glare at him through the mirror and glance at the clock on the wall—7:45 am.

You inhale sharply and duck into the closet to grab your bag. "I'm going."

Sukuna groans, shifting slightly under the blankets. "Kiss."

Despite his usually cold exterior, Sukuna is always soft around you—something you created.

Rounding the bed, you lean over to kiss his mouth, scratching his scalp with your fingers. A deep, raspy groan sounds from the back of his throat, and you have to pull away before he pulls you onto the bed.

"Starts at ten," You remind him, lips hovering over his forehead. "Be there at quarter to."

Sukuna hums, turning over. "Be the best."

"I'll try," You laugh, shoving your feet into your shoes. "Bye!"

"He's here," Nanami rolls his eyes, pointing toward the crowd. Your eyes widen, and you give your friend a side hug.

You weave your way to the hall entrance, small 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' leaving your lips. And when you hear your name, you push yourself up on your tiptoes. A head of pink hair stands out against the rest, and you notice he's surrounded by two other giant guys, too.

"Hey," Sukuna mumbles in your hair when you run into him. You grin into his chest and look up at him.

"Hi."

"Baby," He says, voice louder as he pushes you back. "You gotta get up there."

"I know," You sigh, greeting Negi and Miguel with a wave.

"Good luck," Miguel smiles, and Negi laughs. "We'll be cheering you on."

"Thanks, guys," You nod, feeling Sukuna's hands smooth out the collar of your blouse.

Sukuna shakes his head, ignoring his teammates. "You're gonna do so good."

"I hope so," You sigh, hearing the warning bell before the start of the tournament.

"Love you," Sukuna grumbles, kissing your head. You pull away.

"Love you!" Laughing, you walk backwards toward the stage.

"Give the scientific name for Vitamin K1."

Shoko's thumb moves too fast for your eyes to see before she answers. "Phylloquinone."

"Correct." Multiple claps from the crowd make your stomach turn.

The score is 455–460, with the opposing university in front. You wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, listening to Nanami answer a question.

"Solve this equation for x. 5x=0.2."

His answer is instant. "0.04."

"Right." The host nods, eyes trained on the cards in his hands.

You look to your left, seeing Choso's determined face despite his anxiety about public speaking. It makes you happy to see his confidence grow.

"Who wrote 'Hope is the Thing with Feathers'?"

A brunette answers. "Emily Dickinson."

Your head shoots up in shock. Shoko's hand finds yours under the table while you cringe at losing your question and points for your team.

"Yes!" The host swiftly moves on. "Cogito ergo sum means, "I think. Therefore, I am." By creating this statement, what did Descartes argue?"

Utahime tilts her head as if the answer is the easiest of the day. "That the mind and body are separate entities, with the mind being the essential nature of a person."

"Correct."

You inhale deeply, trying your best to ignore the score. Instead, you squint into the stage light to spot your boyfriend. To no avail, you wipe your eyebrow.

"Believed the rational mind repressed the power of the imagination, weighing it down with taboos; which art movement channelled the unconscious to unlock the power of the imagination?"

"Surrealism," A blonde boy on the other table answered.

"Right. When did the three major shogunates (Kamakura, Ashikaga, Tokugawa) lead Japan?"

Choso nearly falls off his chair when he presses his buzzer. "1192 until 1868."

"Yes," The host re-shuffles his cards and places them on the podium before him. "Last question."

475–475.

"Name the novel: Raskolnikov kills Alyona Ivanovna (a pawnbroker), believing the good he does with her money outweighs the evil of murder."

And before you can press your buzzer, the other university's buzzer sounds first. Your heart drops, and your entire body goes hot with disappointment.

"The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoyevsky."

"Incorrect."

Your thumb presses the button before your mind can catch up.

"You have ten seconds to answer."

"Crime and Punishment, by Dostoyevsky,” You spit out confidently.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The host grins, turning away from you and to the crowd. "Your 2024 Collegiate Quiz Bowl Champions."

And then the score changes. 475-480.

Cheers from the crowd and your teammates make you jump up. "Holy shit."

"We won!" Shoko yells, circling her arms around your shoulders and jumping. You jostle around as she does so, your face breaking out into a smile, and then a laugh slips from your lips.

Utahime crashes into your back. "Ah!"

You, Shoko, and Utahime hug each other, opening your arms for the boys to join.

And though the room is noisy, the loudest cheers come from the pink-haired man at the back of the room, his two teammates lifting him in celebration.

“Baby, what the fuck!” You hear your boyfriend yell. People around him give him dirty looks, but Sukuna pays them no mind. You, however, feel heat creep down your neck at the unwanted attention.

“Kuna,” You giggle, waving your hand down as a way of saying ‘lower the volume’. You meet him in the foyer of the concert hall.

“I can’t!” He laughs, almost howling. “You’re so incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise makes your cheeks flame, and when Sukuna grabs your face to kiss you, he smirks. But he doesn’t comment. Instead, he places the sloppiest kiss on your lips, and you squeal at the feeling, laughing into his mouth.

Sukuna leans back, brushing hair out of your face. “My smart cookie.”

You roll your eyes and grab his hand. “Let’s go. You need to get ready.”

You pull on jeans and a long-sleeve shirt as Sukuna scarfs down rice and chicken in the kitchen. Sukuna’s rugby game is at 5pm, leaving you 2 hours to get ready and drive him to the field. You’re meeting Shoko there – she wants to see Gojo & Geto play.

Fixing your hair, Sukuna walks into the bathroom.

Whistling, he stands behind you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "My girl is so fine."

You purse your lips and shake your head, tying the last bow in your hair.

"My girl..." Sukuna bends down to kiss your neck. "Has such a sexy brain."

You snicker and push him off. "Go get dressed, freak."

Sukuna imitates you softly, pulls away and then gets his rugby kit on with a pout.

The popcorn box is hot in your lap as you dive your hand into the matcha-flavoured kernels once again. You and Shoko sit huddled in the stand, clad in blue scarves. You opted for Sukuna’s training jersey over your long-sleeved top without his knowledge, making Shoko tease you relentlessly.

“But you’re you, and he’s him.”

You nod to her rant, ignoring her, staring straight at your snack as you pick the next piece to eat.

“There they are,” Shoko draws you from your daze as she points out Gojo running out of the dressing rooms below. The bright blue uniforms are hard to miss, especially against the green grass. You fidget with your necklace as you watch the rest of the team empty out of the dressing rooms, Sukuna being the last one to exit.

The sight of him in his tight jersey has you verbally reacting. “Holy fuck.”

“Settle down, girl,” Shoko laughs. “Not like it’s your first time.”

You giggle, making note of how big his arms are. Sukuna shakes said large arms and rolls his head in a circle before leaning forward, his hands clutching the hem of his jersey. He glances over at Miguel, who plays in the halves and nods once at him.

After kick-off, in favour of the other team, Sukuna runs forward, tackling the fullback of the other team who caught the ball. The ball slips out of the guy’s arms, and Geto swipes it from the grass. He sprints up the field, dodging and weaving in and out of players, and makes the final steps towards the in-goal.

Shoko shakes your arm as Geto dives onto the grass, the ball dragging along as he scores, and then you’re both jumping up and down in celebration. Your cheers are so loud they travel to the field, and Sukuna looks up toward you. He smirks, accepting a bro-hug from Geto, who praises his tackle.

The game goes on like this until half-time, with the other team scoring twice. Sukuna is exhausted as he walks off the field, his jersey clinging to his body with sweat. He peeks at where you were sitting only a few minutes prior and sees you gone. He draws his eyebrows together and runs his hand through his hair.

His teammates funnel around him towards the dressing room, but Sukuna stands looking for you.

“Kuna!” You and Shoko are waving from the bottom of the stands, giant smiles on your faces. Your boyfriend shakes his head, laughs briefly, and jogs over to the two of you.

“You’re doing so good!” You exclaim, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his waist. His free arm circles your shoulders, and he nods at Shoko.

“Good job this morning,” He comments.

Shoko furrows her eyebrows and scoffs at the out of character compliment. “Seriously? Thanks?”

Laughing, you pull away from Sukuna and take in the sight before you, wishing you could capture this moment with your eyes. His face is flush, and his hair is sticking in every direction, the pink darkened to a burgundy. Your mind wanders to a situation far different and more sensual than the one you’re in currently, and you feel your cheeks warm up.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Sukuna whispers, noticing the jersey you're wearing. His pearly white teeth gleam at you, and then he jogs away. Your eyes follow him, gaze trailing down his body until you stop at his ass. He looks so damn good in those rugby shorts.

“Quit objectifying him,” Shoko teases, poking your warm cheek. "We're better than that."

You slap her hand away, eyes watering from the cold air. “Shut the fuck up.”

The second half starts and goes by quicker than the first one. Sukuna finishes the game, scoring three tries in the 40-minute half. They win 42-12.

“Kuna, I don’t think you understand how good you are,” You ramble on the way back to the car after Sukuna showered and got into sweats. His fingers are laced with yours, and he doesn’t care when you swing them around. "A hattrick? C'mon!"

“Oh, save the praise for the bedroom, please,” Shoko pleads, a disgusted look on her face. “And everything else, god!”

Sukuna has an insult on the tip of his tongue, but you pinch his stomach, eyes narrowing at him. “No.”

He huffs and mumbles something intelligible.

“Oh, there’s Gojo and Geto,” Shoko sighs in relief, seeing her best friends lingering around Gojo's BMW. “Bye!”

“See you!”

“Thank you, lord.”

You whack his large bicep and shake your head. “You’re horrible.”

“You’re horrible,” Sukuna replies. “Wearing my jersey and expecting me not to get hard.”

You gape at his outright vulgar statement. “Ok, your speaking privileges have been revoked.”

Sukuna scoffs. “My–”

You reach up and slap your hand over his mouth. “Shhhh.”

And when you get in the car, Sukuna can’t keep his hands to himself. His large hand covers almost the entirety of your thigh, and you have to calm yourself down to drive.

“I feel so high school every time I look at you…”

The streetlights go by in a blur, and the radio plays softly as you two go over everything that happened today.

“I don’t know how you people know questions like that,” Sukuna complains. “How are you that smart?”

You shrug, flicking the indicator down. “Just like how you play rugby.”

“They’re completely different.”

“Well,” You tilt your head. “If I tried to play rugby—” Sukuna’s laugh cuts you off. “You think I could tackle like that? Know one-word plays?”

“I mean, you would look so sexy in those shorts.”

“Not the point,” You glance at him, eyes softening at how he’s staring at you.

“You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“The point is,” You swallow, feeling the callouses on his hands rub your skin. “I’ve got my thing, and you’ve got yours. We’re both good at what we do. There’s no comparing.”

“You know what you wanted, and boy, you got her.”

“I’m just so proud of you, you know that?” Sukuna whispers, his voice barely audible over the song. You nod, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I’m proud of you, too, Kuna. I’m gonna be a WAG forever.”

As you pull into the apartment complex's driveway, the echoes of Sukuna’s deep laughs and your giggles can be heard in the dead of night.

“I’m sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights.”

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jacy-gir1 · 10 months ago

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Heyyy, NSFW alphabet featuring shinsou. Obviously 18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is the kind of guy to be instantly tired, he wants to hold you, lazily kiss you, cuddle you as you fall asleep after sex. He doesn’t mind if there’s a little mess and your both naked he just wants you in his arms.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Thighs absolutely no questions asked. He wants to kiss them, touch them, squeeze them, put his head in between them, you name it. There’s no better way to relax after a long day of work then to lay down in your pillowy thighs.

C = Cum (Where does he want to cum?)

Back to the last one, thighs definitely. If they aren’t available then stomach, back, or tits. There’s just something about seeing himself sprayed on your body it’s like an animal marking there territory.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Actually really into dominantrics (idk how to spell that just go with it) but would never tell you because he’s super embarrassed. He secretly would enjoy being bossed around, told how to please you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s watched a fair share of porno but was a virgin before he met you, surprisingly he was a natural in bed, a quick learner you’d call him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, some may say it’s boring but it gets all the right spots, he can kiss you while rearranging your guts, easy access to your clit and curves, and best of all your neck is so so easy to grab.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, so serious it’s goofy

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet matches the drapes, purple stubble

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Less romantic then you’d expect, he’s a fan of hard kinky sex, not the type of stuff you’d call “making love” but it’s romantic in his own way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A lot, If he’s horny and your not available his hand is on his cock. He jacks off to pictures of you in a swimsuit. He has jerked off next to you in bed while you were sleeping multiple times, he dreads you waking up but also gets off on it

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

About the level of kinky as you’d expect, he’s into shibari, putting you in collars (a little pet play), and using his quirk on you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, it’s the most comfortable for both of you and you don’t have to worry about it not working for his favorite positions.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mostly you teasing him but sometimes he just gets random boners. If you really want to get him going then strip tease when he’s not expecting it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Role play, he hates thinking about fucking anyone but you. Other then that he’s super open to whatever you want to try; my man does not kink shame

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Not very good at giving but lovvvvves receiving, it’s his favorite way to cum, with your mouth wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very rough and fast paced, this man rails the shit of you it is not gentle. However if you feel like it’s to much he becomes more gentle with you, your pleasure comes before him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan of quickies, he prefers longs nights where you can do multiple rounds and fall asleep after

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Loves to push yours and his own boundaries, he’s not Risky in the sense of doing it in public though

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

About 4, you’ll know when he’s tired out

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

It’s hit or miss with toys but he loves putting you in collars and using controlled toys to tease and edge you with

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

His version of foreplay is teasing the shit out of you, but after that he just wants to get lost in you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a grunter and whimperer definitely, loud in a quiet way if that makes any sense.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Reads cringy smut fanfiction and imagines you as main characters

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like 6inches, not enough to be painful for you but big enough to make you feel like he’s in your stomach

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Depends, it’s like seasonal with this man, super horny during winter, super chill during summer.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Two fucking seconds after he cums he’s snoring while holding you tight, more cuddles the better

#mha x reader #mha #mha smut #smut #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou smut

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fictionismyreality3 · 2 months ago

Note

Hi first off just wanted to say I absolutely love your work! But please remember to take care of yourself and have plenty of water and Food and please remember to take breaks 🫶

Anyways I was wondering if I could req a fic where Jason finds out his s/o is an Ex-Criminal who's trying really hard not to fall back into old habits but is struggling because these guys keep harrasing them to become a criminal again

Mm just gonna take this :D -🎧

Better off Before You

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: boyfriend!jason todd, ex-criminal!reader, established relationship, kinda controlling!jason todd idk, angst but it gets resolved at the end

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, violence, crime, drugs, weapons like knives and guns, arson, sexual assault 🤨

Notes: I gagged writing this 😩 sorry to all the Jefferey’s out there I just think Jeff is a creepy name. Kinda put a spin on the req hope that’s okay ☺️

34 stitches, 18 hours, and 1 bullet.

That’s what you’d scarified to get the life you had now. You’d done your time, and spent the hours necessary to detach yourself from your previous life and associates.

You had a lot to be grateful for and you knew that. It wasn’t like you were waking up everyday selfishly forgetting where you came from. That seemed impossible with the way the bullet was still lodged under the skin of your hip. But you were happy. You had a good life now and you were happy.

When you met Jay, you used to go by a different name, and when you thought about it, you were really a different person. But he pushed you. He wasn’t like those other self righteous hero’s you so often found yourself running from. He told it like it was, and he didn’t care if he hurt your feelings when he spoke. And back then, that’s something you needed desperately.

“You look like shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you wiped your lips, spitting the blood that had pooled in your mouth onto the gum covered pavement.

“You’re not exactly looking your best either, Red.” You drawled, eying the tall form of Jason Todd as he stalked down the alley towards you. “Yeah, well, it’s been one of those days.” He shrugged.

“Cortez?” Jason threw out there as he tucked his pistols away and got ready for a fist fight.

“No, Romero this time. You know what the buyers are like.”

Rain fell around you as you struck Jason in the stomach, his body expertly maneuvering to the side so he could grab your leg when you tried to throw a kick at him. Soon you were on your back, hitting at the inside of his elbow to push him off you. A well timed bite to shoulder and kick in the nuts let you escape.

That was 2 years ago.

Some days you almost wished you’d lost that fight, it would have made getting out from under your bosses thumb a lot easier had you been thrown in jail. You ended up having to do it the hard way. First breaking things off with Cortez, he was a squealer, especially when you pulled a few fingernails to reinforce he wouldn’t come after you.

Romero was harder. The man had a good few hundred men and women working for him. He practically ran the entire drug scene on the east end of Gotham. You used to be one of his best. It was a slightly demeaning work, being the person whose sole job was to ensure rich, high society people got their pill fix for the week, but it payed well. The only way you managed to get out was by knocking off his men one by one till you got to the top.

To him.

But Jay helped you, and you did it, even if it did leaving you with a permanent reminder in the flesh of your hip. There was no immediate way for Romero build back his little empire, and you allowed yourself to relax over the years, even getting to the point where Jason and you would run missions for Bruce.

Which is why this had to be a one time thing.

“Eh, c’mon pretty. Let’s not keep the boss waiting.”

How you found yourself back on the radar of the man you were trying so hard to distance yourself from seemed to be a sick joke from the universe. All it took was one wrong decision and you’d slipped right back into your old life like you’d never left. It wasn’t that you wanted to, but at this point, you didn’t have a choice.

You were sloppy. Normally you made sure to never take any jobs related to the underground drug rings so as to avoid spotted. But you didn’t do your research, and one bust got you noticed by one of Romero’s men who got away. That was all it took for him to go ratting back to his boss, who now held a massive grudge against you for how long it took him to regain power.

You fought hard when they found you again. The skin of your attackers still sat underneath your fingernails.

But you weren’t a super, you didn’t have powers or years of extreme training like Jay. You were just a girl who grew up on the wrong side of town, and chloroform wasn’t exactly easily avoided.

Scanning your surroundings, you tried to memorize the route of winding hallways you were being dragged through. The smell of gasoline and booze hung in the air, making your nose scrunch in disgust. Being pushed through a set of heavy metal doors, you found yourself face to face with the beady eyes of Jefferey Romero.

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I would say,” he began, standing up from the crusty folding chair he was sitting in. “When I saw you again.” Two men came and held your arms behind your back, their grip tight despite your struggling. “But all I can think about is how pathetic you look.”

One grubby hand reached up to clutch your chin, his fingers digging into your skin while he surveyed your face. The other reached down and squeezed at your ass.

“Fuck you.” You spat.

Driving your knee up, you kicked him as hard as you could in the dick, relishing the whiny noise of pain he made as he fell to his knees. Deciding to use the opportunity, you spat on him, but by then more of his men came to hold you still.

“You’re just as feisty as I remember too.” He coughed and brushed himself off. Getting back up, with a slight limp he came to stand in front of you. “You cost me a lot of money, you know.” Romero licked his lips. “It took me years to get it back.” He thread his fingers through your hair, yanking your head harshly to the side. “That’s why you’re gonna do me a little favour, bitch.”

You scoffed, wanting nothing more than to wrap your hands around his neck and choke him to death. “I’m not doing jack shit for you.” Romero let out a sneering laugh.

“Oh, but you will. Because I have this.”

As he held out his hand, your eyes darted down to the little enamel pin resting in his palm.

Your tongue was heavy in your mouth.

“What do you need?”

Jason wasn’t a great boyfriend when it came to his protectiveness. Knowing the life you’d came from, and how you two literally met when you were running from the cops, he was constantly worried about keeping you safe. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, he just wanted you to have the life you deserved.

Because he knew you deserved so much.

Fiddling with the string of his hoodie, he tried to stay focused on whatever random ass tv show was on. Pressing the material to his nose, he took a deep breath. Your perfume filled his lungs and he felt dizzy and relieved at the same time. It had only been a few hours since you left to go get some groceries, but the time away was killing him.

Clingy was a word he liked to pretend didn’t exist, but with the way you’d been acting for the last few weeks, he was getting more and more reluctant to let you out of his sight. Bruises that you’d brush off as you being clumsy, scrapes lining your knees, even the way your eyes were seemingly darting around to look for a threat that wasn’t there. All of it was beginning to leave a sour taste in Jason’s mouth.

Normally, he would never do anything to invade your privacy, but the nagging feeling in the back of his head wouldn’t let him drop it. Rustling through drawer after drawer, Jason searched from the objects that would confirm his suspicions. Cursing under his breath, he mumbled a few prayers that this wasn’t what he thought it was as he moved to your half of the closet.

Pushing the clothes to the side, his eyes got stuck on the red dress he’d bought you, and he had to clench his fists from punching the wall when he saw what was lying in the shoebox behind it.

Your knives.

The same knives he’d taken from you when you first started to change the way you were living. The same knives he’d hidden from you to help you transition. The same knives that were sitting there, clearly having been recently polish, laughing at him as they glinted in the light. The sound of the front door ripped him from his stupor.

“Hey, Jay. I got those chips you like-” Your words died on your tongue as you came face to face with a very angry Jason Todd, standing in the living room, holding a reminder of your past.

“What the fuck is this, huh?” He ground out, holding knives out with a shaking hand. “I promise, it’s not what it looks like.” You began quickly. Letting out a huff of tightly contained anger, Jason stormed up to you, grabbing you by the wrists and sending your shopping bags to the floor.

“Not what it looks like?” He scoffed. “No, I-”

“Because to me, it sure fucking looks like you’re working again.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared up into the now swirling blue-green eyes of the one man who never left. “You don’t understand.” You tried to plead. Throwing the knives to the floor, Jason backed you up against the front door, his hands caging you against the wood. “I don’t understand?” He hissed. “I risked my ass when I asked Bruce to cover your bail.”

The pressure of your rapidly beating heart was barely being held in by your ribcage. “Jay, you can’t understand.”

Jason swore he felt a tooth crack with how hard he was clenching his jaw. There hadn’t been a lot of instances where he’d felt truly hurt in his life, not before you. He always kept himself too closed off for that. But now? Now the small sliver of worth you had given him felt like it was being doused in salt and vodka.

“Then make me understand, baby.” Jay pleaded. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.” He hated the way his voice cracked.

All at once you were overcome with the urge to tell him everything, to fall into his arms and cry to him about how Romero had found where your sister went to university, and how you might not have talked to her in years but you still couldn’t let her die.

But your mouth didn’t open.

And Jason could only drop his hands to his sides and take a step back from you.

“Where the fuck having you been goin’ for the last 3 weeks?” He said disbelieving. “I don’t even know who you are anymore!” Wiping the tear you didn’t realize was forming, took a deep breath and steeled yourself.

“I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

All his years of experience, the instincts and reaction times he’d had trained into him, seemed to vanish as he watched you turn on your heel and leave. Standing frozen for a moment, Jason stared at the handle of the door, as if his gaze would somehow cause it to turn and you to come back.

“Fuck.” He snarled, whipping around to leave a fist sized hole in the wall.

One more job.

One more job and then this would all be over.

That’s what you kept telling yourself. The words got repeated over and over again in your mind as you stepped out into the streets of Gotham and began walking towards where you were stashing your things. The words echoed into the foggy air as you mumbled to yourself, changing into your district clothes and heading to the target Romero sent you.

They acted as a sort of prayer to who ever was listening. A plea, for all of this mess to somehow how straighten itself out, and for you to be forgiven as you hurled the bottle of alcohol and flames at the cargo truck you’d been ordered to destroy.

The fire danced across the surface of the truck until the whole thing burst into a ball of heat. You don’t know what was in it or why Romero wanted it gone, and you didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know. All you felt like doing was crumbling into the pavement and disappearing into one of the cities many potholes so you never had to show your face again.

It was nearly impossible for Jason to keep from destroying the apartment. Every item of furniture you’d picked out together sat like a reminder. He’d been the one to get you off the streets. He’d been the one to show you that there were people who cared about more than their next hit or how to get money. He’d been the one to help you get free.

And now he had failed you.

Jason sat on the couch, slumped forward with his head in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Really, everything was wrong, but something about the way you left felt odd. There was this look in your eye, the same one he saw the first time you’d met when he cornered you after the police slacked off at their jobs. A look of fear.

Not towards him. He could still remember it plain as day. It was more a look of dread, like you were worried about the consequences of getting caught and not the scary guy in the red mask who caught you. Like you were dreading someone finding out. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. Although he was absolutely livid, he couldn’t stand seeing you in fear because he loved you.

He loved you.

“What the fuck am I doin’ just sitting here?”

When you got back to the seedy building near the docks, you were let in instantly by two of Romero’s men. The winding hallways of his new building had reluctantly become a familiar sight after spending the last 3 weeks running errands for him. But now your debt was paid, and you could get to tell Jay everything.

The same set of heavy metal doors that seemed to unlock a world you tried so desperately to forget opened once more, and you were once again standing in front of the man who used you. Putting out his cigarette, Jeffery Romero sauntered his way over to you.

“It’s done. The truck’s gone.” You spoke first. “I did my half of the bargain, so don’t you dare touch my sister.” With a thoughtful look that was clearly exaggerated, he looked you over, walking a circle around you. “I’ll admit, you weren’t as useless as I remembered.” The beady-eyed man snickered. Your hands were clenching, fingernails digging into your palms. “I might even take you back to work for me.”

“I’d never fucking work for you.”

His eyes narrowed, a dark smile curling across his lips. “That’s a shame,” He said nonchalantly. “Because you know too much now to be kept alive.”

As if waiting for their cue, the men who’d been leaning against the walls or playing poker and pretending not to listen pounced on you. Hands were tugging you in every which way, some tearing at your clothes as they shoved you to your knees. With a surge of adrenaline, you went down kicking and screaming, biting and pushing back against anyone who touched you. All the while Romero sat and watched, lighting another cigarette.

Glass shattered as the windows got kicked in. People were screaming. A gun went off. Again. And then again. And slowly, working through the shock, your mind caught up to process the image of Jason blowing the heads off of everyone around you, their brains splattering onto the walls and floor.

Letting out a practically feral noise, you lunged at Romero, shoving him to the ground and pounding your fists down into his face over and over again. Your vision was blurry, partly from your tears and partly from the blood that was spraying onto your face every time you brought your hand down. But you couldn’t stop. You busted his lip for your sister. You shattered his nose for the peace you’d fought for.

And you broke his jaw just for you.

Two strong arms were tugging you off the now lifeless body, and your face was pressed into a broad chest. Taking the first breath you’d been able to in 3 weeks, you got a lungful of Jason and you sobbed like a little baby. The hiss of his mask coming off barely registered in your mind.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, hey you’re- fuck, princess it’s okay.” He cooed and ran his gloved fingers through your hair. “It’s over. It’s over.”

“I should have-” You tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled gasping noise. Jason was wiping the blood off your face, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. “I should have told you.” You blubbered, clutching at the leather of his jacket. He didn’t even know what you were talking about, or how you got dragged into all this mess, but right now, he didn’t care. “M’not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.”

“I’m always gonna stay.”

#oneshot #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n

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xxchumanixx · 7 months ago

Note

Hii, I have a request Tim Bradford X Grey!reader, I really liked the other one where she is Sergeant Grey’s adoptive daughter.

So basically she is a detective in another station, because you know, conflict of interests since she is his daughter.

she is younger than Tim, so age gap, 25 or so. She is a complete badass fr

and she goes to an undercover mission, a fancy party or something like that, alone. and things kinda get complicated, so the sergeant of the station where she works calls for backup, her father, because they are closer to where she is and also because he thought Wade would want to know his daughter is in danger.

so they get the call, and go to the place, and at first they don’t know she is grey’s daughter. They didn't know he had another daughter and that she was a detective, just because doing this dangerous job he was trying to protect her.

but she was handling things beautifully💅🏻💅🏻, and once they got there she had the suspects under control and was just slightly injured (like her arm idk). And she did it in a dress and in high heels 💅🏻💅🏻. I imagine she would be very sassy like Grey, also kind brag about what she just did. and then she starts flirting with Tim, HARD, in front of everyone and he starts blushing, absolutely melting because of her duh. everyone thought that was it, but no, she then transfers to her father station and from there her and Tim start dating, even if they shouldn’t, so once a few months has passed (and EVERYBODY knew but her father 💀💀, Angela and Nyla were for sure teasing them about it) he goes to Wade and gives up his position (Metro Tim has me in a chokehold 🥵🥵, y/n’s will agree with me for sure, with that cargo pants damn)

and that’s it, sorry it’s pretty long and there are for sure some mistakes, I’m not a native speaker 🥺🥺. Thank u if you will do it ❤️❤️❤️

Give it all

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, reader is Grey's daughter, swearing if you squint, canon typical violence

Word count: 3.386

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I know it's a hell of a lot late, but I didn't get to write it, because you sadly spoilerd me (I was mid season 2 when you sent your request I think) and I didn't even know what you meant with the cargo pants at first😂 But now that I've watched til the end of season 5 (still waiting with bated breath for season 6 to air in Germany with German sync) I can finally write it.

And I know about those cargo pants now and I have to agree with you. Metro Tim is🔥!

Also, I made the reader a little older, just to stay in the possibilities of becoming a detective at a young age (don't know if it's really possible to become one at 25, so she's 27).

Still hope you'll like it, though!

I suck at titles I'm sorry.

Enjoy!

God damn it.

Why did everything you so neatly planned with your team have to go bust?

It was supposed to be an easy mission - get in, get the intel, get out.

Simple as that.

But nothing ever really goes to plan, does it?

Not to mention the dress you were wearing, intoxicating yet so unpractical. Or the heels at your feet, making it all the more harder to fight.

You were worried about the seam of the dress ripping, as you kicked the guard in front of you down to the ground, sending him asleep with a blow to his face.

It was pretty, but so hard to move in.

"Grey, get your ass out of there and wait for backup!" your commander yelled into the small earpiece you were wearing, making you flinch at his high pitched voice.

If you hadn't known his face, you'd mistaken him for a woman.

Swinging at the man in front of you, you hit his jaw, your fist stinging at the harsh contact. The man reeled back, releasing an angry yell, as he made a run for you.

God damn it.

Ducking away from him you kicked at his legs, using the momentum to disbalance him. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself rather quickly, before he pulled a knife out of his boot.

Really?

Groaning inwardly, you tried to avoid the shiny blade, dodging the blow with a jump to the side. It grazed your skin though, a line of blood soon trickling down your left arm.

So much for the dress now being ruined.

The man ran after you, but you pushed a cart into his way. He fell down on it, his weight being his disadvantage, the knife clattering to the ground.

You pinned him down from behind, cuffing him with the binders you'd found earlier. He tried to push you backwards, but you kneed his groin hard, causing him to cry out in agony, as he stopped struggling.

Pushing him to the ground where the other man was lying, you did the same to the unconscious one, tying his wrists together.

"Backup is there!" Granville gave through the earpiece, your eyes rolling at the information.

A bit late, weren't they?

Huffing, you left the men behind, returning to the grand hall where the gala was being held.

Your dress was ruined, stained with the blood that continued to trickle down your arm, dropping to the floor, and your feet hurt.

The room was earily silent, no music or chattering people. Police crowded the room, guns drawn.

You groaned, when you spotted your father amongst them, rolling your eyes for the millionth time this evening.

They watched you, as you walked towards them, your father's eyes widening at the blood. "You're late." you announced loudly, stopping right in front of the aligned officers. "They're in the office back there."

Wade rolled his eyes, motioning for some of the officers to gather the attackers, and for the rest to back down.

God only knew where your constant eye rolling came from.

"Get an ambulance!" he shouted, as the crowd started to disperse, before he walked over to you. Your eyes swiped over the officers, stopping at a particular handsome face.

He was tall, walking towards you and your father, with a female officer on his tail. "Sarge, what about Torres?" he wanted to know, eyes darting to you in curiosity for a brief moment.

Tilting your head, you gave him a once-over. "Didn't know mid Wilshire had such handsome officers." you pointed out, causing his gaze to snap back to yours.

Your father inhaled sharply, not saying anything though. They didn't know you were his daughter, him trying to shield you from threats.

Bradford, as his name tag read, grew a bit red in the face. Clearing his throat, he returned the gesture of giving you a once-over.

"Oh, upstairs are three more guards." you told your father, crossing your arms over your chest. "They should be still asleep, like the ones in the office."

One of his fingers tapped on his waistband, as he tried to calm himself. You were an adult, a detective working at a station farther down the city. You knew what you were doing.

He was still worried as hell, though.

"Good work." he muttered, avoiding to look at you. He couldn't deny that he preferred you to have a normal job, not risking your life when going undercover like this.

Your gaze went back to Sargeant Bradford, the stripes on his sleeves matching your father's. "I'm detective Y/N Grey." you introduced yourself, holding out your non bloody hand for him to shake.

His breath hitched in his throat at the name, still shaking your hand as he introduced himself as well. "Sargeant Tim Bradford."

"I thought we'd talked about this!" your father interrupted you with a hiss, just as your eyes were about to roam the broad figure of Tim Bradford once more.

Rolling your eyes yet again, you smirked at Tim, ignoring the fuming form of your father right beside you. "Nice to meet you."

Some of the other officers where already looking at you, watching the commotion. The woman that had followed Tim - officer Chen - bit her lip to stop from laughing.

Tim's face grew a deeper red in the meantime.

"Are you in a relationship?" you wanted to know, his eyes widening, as your father grabbed your non injured arm, deciding he had enough.

"Look, the ambulance is there." He tried to be calm, his grip harsh though, as he left you no choice but to follow him.

Sending Tim a wink, you smiled. "Hope we'll meet again, sargeant Bradford."

He didn't answer, only watching your retreating figure with deep interest.

_____

After a rather tiresome talk with your father, resulting in both of you shouting at each other, your captain decided to transfer you - to mid Wilshire.

Your father wasn't happy, knowing he'd now have to watch his own daughter getting in harms way.

Things with Tim were getting interesting, after a few weeks had passed.

You'd kept flirting with him, even though he was a bit hesitant at first. Now that you had transferred, everyone knew who's daughter you were.

He didn't want to end on your father's bad side, though still giving into your flirts after a while. Somewhere along the way he'd asked you out on a date.

It resulted in marvelous sex and more dates. It had clicked instantly, things going beautifully between you.

Feelings sparked, soon resulting in a confession.

You'd been walking through the park in the evening, watching the water from a bridge you were standing on.

His arm was around your waist, his warmth engulfing you. You'd been going on dates for two months now, just having left the restaurant. He'd planned to do it in a more romantic way, telling you how he felt.

As the water rippled beneath you, the moon and the lanterns shining down on it, he turned you towards him, your gaze finding his.

"I'm glad you transferred here." he began, taking your hands in his, entwining your fingers. You leaned more into him, heart beating faster in your chest.

"I'm glad we met and I'm glad you still kept flirting with me, even when I was hesitant about it at first." he continued, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "And I'm glad you accepted to go out on a date with me. I really like you, Y/N... I want you to know, that I've grown feelings for you."

He held his breath, waiting for you to respond.

Your lips split in a broad smile, leaning even closer. "Well, I'm glad that you feel this way." you replied, face inching closer. "Because I've grown feelings for you too, Tim."

He sighed in relief, tugging you closer to cover your lips with his. You returned the kiss, his hands on your waist, as yours brushed through his hair, locking behind his neck.

He was like a drug for you.

He'd swept you off his feet when you first saw him, catching your gaze in an instant. For him it was the same, even with the blood that trickled down your arm, the light scar a reminder of the night you met.

_____

"So, when do we get an invitation for a double date?" Angela quipped, stirring her coffee, as she sat down opposite you. Cocking a brow you looked up from your phone, that goofy smile still glued to your face without you noticing.

You'd been texting with Tim, his own shift a later one that had yet to start.

Angela's smile grew warmer, her head tilting. Your brows furrowed at her, confused about the way she was smiling at you.

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean." she told you, eyes narrowing the slightest bit. "It's obvious that you and Tim are dating."

Your cheeks grew warmer, eyes looking down on the table. "Please don't tell my father about it." you asked of her, knowing that denying the obvious wouldn't get you very far.

She huffed in amusement, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I won't tell him."

"Tell whom what?" someone spoke up behind you - Nyla. She poured herself a cup of coffee as well, joining you at the table. "Tell her father that her and Bradford are dating."

Nyla made a dismissive gesture, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it's so obvious, we wouldn't even have to tell him. He'll find out on his own."

Eyes widening, you sat up straighter.

Where you really this obvious?

They must have read your thoughts, snickering into their cups. "It's cute." Angela pointed out, sending you a wink. "But yes, it really is this obvious."

_____

"We can't go on like this." you told Tim the same evening after your talk with Angela and Nyla, forking at the food on your plate.

Tim cocked a brow, wondering what you were talking about. Looking up from your plate, you placed the fork down. "I mean us."

He froze, the pasta falling from his own fork back on the plate, before he placed it down as well. "What do you mean?"

He couldn't shake the fear that suddenly gripped him, eminent in his voice. He'd thought you'd love him?

"We can't keep this a secret anymore." you explained, leaning on your elbows. "Angela and Nyla are constantly teasing me about it. It's obvious, everyone knows except for my father - he would have decapitated me already if he'd know."

His heart stumbled, though relief filled him at your words.

You weren't breaking up with him.

"Then we'll make it official." he proposed, leaning forward as well. You bit your lip, contemplating it. Someday they would find out anyway.

You nodded, sending him a smile. "Let's make it official."

_____

You should have known it would be a bad idea.

You had a deja vu at the way your father was yelling at you, whilst your mother was shaking her head constantly at him.

She knew better than to interrupted him.

It felt like the time you'd set the bathroom on fire, trying to alter a dress of yours when you were young.

Your father had his very own opinion about you trying to be a fashion designer.

You were waiting for him to finish his speech, knee bouncing as you stared at the wall behind him.

He inhaled deeply and you used the opportunity to interrupt him.

"I love him." you told him firmly, standing up from the chair.

Wait, what?

You loved him?

Well, yes, you did.

"I love him and I won't leave him just because you tell me to. You don't like it? Well, you don't have to. I'm an adult, I'm 27 and I can decide on my own. I can choose who I love and who I date, I don't have to ask for your permission."

He was stunned, noticing once more that you were in fact, an adult. You're mother was smiling to herself, never having had any problems with you dating Tim, even if he was a few years older than you.

Wade grumbled something to himself, wondering when you'd grown so much. To him you were still his little girl, he had to protect you.

"I'm okay with leaving mid Wilshire, if I have to. But I won't be leaving Tim." you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shook his head, wiping over his face with his hand in a tired manner. "Since when are you this grown?" he wanted to know, voice defeated. "You're my little girl, I have to protect you!"

You couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your lips. "Dad, you don't have to protect me - protect Dom, not me. She's still so young. I'm a grown-up, I can look after myself."

Luna chuckled, agreeing with a tilt of her head. "Our daughter should be free to decide what she wants." she spoke, putting a hand on your father's arm. "Let her date him, don't ruin this for her."

He sighed heavily, head hanging low. Nodding, he looked at his wife, before he looked at you.

"But you're not leaving mid Wilshire."

_____

"I have to." Tim pressured, pecking your lips. "And I want to. Metro is great, it's an opportunity I want to take."

He had proposed to transfer to the metro, after a position had been cleared, giving him a chance he wanted to take. He secretly hoped he'd get the job - it would make things a lot easier and he had thought about it even before you two met.

He'd be going to your father today, giving up his position if the metro was willing to take him in. He'd already talked to their chief, meeting her in a few minutes to discuss things.

You were nervous about it.

Sure, you knew he wanted to go to the metro, but you were worried he'd regret it. But you knew you had to let him do this.

They rest of the day went on like chewing gum.

Whilst you were working on some cases, he talked to the metro. You bad trouble concentrating, Angela soon noticing.

"What's up with you?" she wanted to know, leaning on the small wall that divided your desk and the hallway. Looking up from the papers you'd read three times already, you pushed them aside.

"Tim's trying for a position at the Metro." you told her, leaning your head on your hand. Her eyes widened, letting go of the air inside her lungs. "Wow."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Im happy if he gets the position, but I fear he's doing it because he feels pressured to do." you explained. "I don't want him to regret his decision."

Angela shook her head, adjusting her position. "He won't." she assured you. "Tim knows what he wants. Just as he knows that he wants you. He'd have done everything in his power to ensure that, believe me. If he tries for the position, than it's because he wants to."

You nodded, trying to belive her words.

You really hoped she was right.

_____

Tim wrought his hands nervously, trying to calm his racing heart, before he would face your father.

He had been a bit harsher on Tim since he knew you were dating, but he refused to let it bother him.

Entering the watch commander's office, he braced himself for the conversation ahead of him.

Wade looked up when he entered, putting his pen down and crossing his arms on the desk. "Bradford, what can I do for you?"

Tim closed the door, sitting down on the chair opposite Wade's. "I want to transfer to the Metro." he spoke, getting right to the topic.

Grey's eyes widened - even if he kept a closer eye on him due to the relationship with his daughter, he wasn't willing to give him up that easily.

"Are you sure?" he wanted to know, his eyes wandering to your desk for a brief moment. He couldn't really see you, but he knew you were there - and Angela was as well, still talking to you.

Tim nodded, licking his lip. "I've talked to their chief and their willing to take me in." he explained, swallowing. "I think it's better this way."

Wade rubbed his chin, humming to himself.

"Are you doing this, because you want to, or because you feel forced to?" he inquired, gaze fixed on his Sargeant.

Tim cleared his throat, never breaking eye contact. "Because I want to." he responded. "I was thinking about going to the metro for a while now, not just because of your daughter."

Wade nodded, contemplating.

"Do you love her?"

Tim was taken aback by the question, still nodding fervently. "I do. Why?"

Wade nodded too, looking down on his desk. "Do you plan to marry her?"

Tim choked on his saliva, growing red as he desperately tried to regain his breath. Wade cocked a brow at his flustered face, eyes wide as Tim stared at his watch commander.

"I think it's a bit early for that." Tim gave back, swallowing hard. Wade huffed, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "But when the time comes, I would want to."

Wade was pleased to hear that, the smallest smile gracing his lips.

"Well then, if you want to transfer to the metro, I'm sad to see you go but I won't stop you." he told him, sitting more straight again. "It was my honor to be your watch commander."

Tim looked up from his lap, where his eyes had landed moments before, disbelieve evident in his features. Grey sent him a smile, nodding slightly.

"It was my honor, too, Sarge."

_____

You didn't see Tim, before you went home that evening.

Did he get the position?

When he entered his house - you had a key, already having cooked - you couldn't help the impatience that overtook your senses.

"Did you get the position?" you wanted to know, greeting him in the hallway.

He cocked a brow at you, fighting a smirk. "Let me get home first." he chided, shaking his head as the smirk won.

Rolling your eyes, you walked back into the living room, waiting for him to join you at the dining table.

When he did, his hands found your hips, tugging you closer to kiss you. You returned it, sighing contently. He deepened the kiss, but you separated from him.

"Did you get it?"

He rolled his eyes at how impatient you were, but smiled down at you eventually. "I did." You smiled back, happy for him, as you kissed him again.

He smiled into the kiss, before he leaned back. "And I talked to your father."

Your smile fell, a sigh leaving your lips.

"He didn't want to let me go, but he eventually agreed."

Nodding, you bit your lip, the smile slowly returning. You knew that Tim was one of the best at mid Wilshire, and your father knew too.

"Let's eat, baby."

_____

"Damn, those cargo pants make me want to stay instead of going to work."

You bit your lip as you watched him dress, the pants definitely going to be a weak spot for you. He smirked, capturing your lips with his own. "We have to get ready, I don't want to be late on my first day."

The pants in combination with the boots made you go weak in the knees. It was tempting to just seduce him and stay, but you knew he was right.

It didn't mean you wouldn't seduce him later in the evening, though.

"It'll be hard to concentrate when I see you in these pants." you admitted, staring at them. He chuckled, redirecting your gaze with a finger under your chin. "We have to go." he reminded you, grinning.

He had trouble not giving into you and stay as well, so he tried to get you two on your way to work as fast as possible.

You let him walk in front of you, so you could stare at his ass, as he ushered you out of the house.

Damn, those pants would be the death of you.

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@augustvandyne @rookietrek

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #imagine

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ronearoundblindly · 8 months ago

Text

Hideout (4.2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down.

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it.

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke.

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.”

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit.

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him.

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.”

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #nomad steve #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #touchstarved #touch starved!steve #touch starved #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #nomad captain america #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #hideout series

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falafelluva · 18 days ago

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; 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 - 𝐤. 𝐲𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐳 ✮

summary: long distance can be challenging, especially when a busy schedule is involved

warnings: idk, a sassy man, arguing??!:!:!

author’s note: my throat hurts so bad? why am I catching a cold rn. This is short bc pt 2 is still in the making, my bad🙏🔥 #thisisnotproofread

Kenan had been away for nearly six weeks, training at a football camp in Germany. The distance was harder than you’d anticipated, the loneliness pressing down on you more each day.

Late night calls were supposed to be your way of staying close, but they grew more and more tense as the days dragged on.

It was a Friday evening, and you had been waiting hours for Kenan’s call, watching the minutes tick by.

When your phone finally lit up with his name, you felt a rush of relief and excitement— until you picked up and heard the exhaustion in his voice.

“Hey,” he mumbled, barely loud enough to hear.

“Hii, I’ve missed you so much,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light, hoping to lift his spirits.

“Yeah… missed you too,” he said, his tone flat. It stung, and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed.

“You sound exhausted. Are you okay?” you asked gently.

He sighed. “It’s just… a lot. Training is intense. I’m fine, though.”

Your heart sank a little, but you pressed on. “I get that. I just… I thought maybe we could talk for a bit. We haven’t really connected lately.”

“What are you talking about?” he replied sharply, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. “I told you, I’ve been busy. I can’t just drop everything every time you feel like yapping.”

His words stung, and you swallowed back the hurt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just miss you, Kenan. It’s hard to feel close when you hardly have time to talk. I’m not trying to be an inconvenience”

He scoffed, a bitter tone creeping in. “Well, maybe you are. I’m here doing something important, and I don’t need you stressing me out even more.”

You felt your heart clench, his words hitting deeper than you’d expected. “So that’s how you feel? I’m just trying to keep us connected. But it feels like I’m the only one putting in any effort.”

“Maybe you should stop expecting so much from me,” he shot back. “You knew I’d be busy. It’s not my job to entertain you.”

The anger in his voice felt like a slap, and you took a shaky breath, feeling the frustration and hurt building up.

“Kenan, that’s really unfair. I just want to feel like I matter to you, even when things are busy.”

He let out a frustrated sigh on the other end of the line, the exhaustion heavy in his voice. “I told you, I just don’t have time for this right now. I don’t need another person making demands of me.”

A sharp pang of hurt shot through you, and your voice cracked as you tried to respond.

“I’m not making demands. I just… I want to be there for you, and I don’t know how to do that when you keep shutting me out.”

Silence hung between you both, thick and tense. You could hear him breathing, feel the weight of his hesitation, but no apology came.

Instead, he muttered, “You know what? Maybe this was a mistake. You’re just making everything harder.”

The words hit you like a punch, knocking the breath from your lungs. Before you could respond, the line went dead—The silence felt suffocating as you stared at your phone, the call screen fading out.

With shaky hands, you set your phone down, heart pounding as his last words replayed over and over.

Did he really mean it? Did he really think this was all a mistake?

As the reality of his words settled in, a hollow ache began to grow inside you. The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you hanging in the silence, wondering if this was the end—or just another obstacle.

#kenan yildiz x reader

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quantum1mmortality · 1 year ago

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Jamil Jamil, hes our man! (🍋Jamil x gn!reader🍋)

Okay so this is a belated birthday gift for my beloved boyfriend <<333

I mainly based the things reader says and does over things he'd personally do but I did want to post this on here so he could read it anytime

♧CW: reader is referred to with they/them but is fem bodied, smut and comfort, probably ooc jamil bc we love it when he's soft, first time sex, reader is dealing with a lot of shit fuck and jamil Is so sweet such husband, unsafe sex, its premarital too, jamil has big pp energy so he absolutely has a big pp here, he doesn't know how to use it tho pls help this man, bath sex and cockwarming near the end btw, smut smut smut oh so smutty we love him!!!!!! Also jamil cums inside?? Idk I might do that ig we'll see LMAO, oh also pet names, oh so many pet names bc me and my boyfriend use them on eachother all the time

♤!!ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS FIC ARE 18+!!♤

♤NOT PROOFREAD yall ever proofread a smut??? Its embarrassing. Im not doing that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♧ it had been one hell of a week.

Everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. Grim was sick beyond belief, no amount of tuna could help him stomach anything. You TRIED to buy more paper towels and better probiotics for him from Sam's shop, but you couldn't afford them because Crowley wasn't paying you enough.

Speaking of Crowley, he had to cut back on your paychecks because the school was putting out too much money for the overblots.

Ace and Deuce were over at ramshackle to help get things fixed up, but the ghosts decided that wasn't a good idea. They started throwing everything around, and one of them hit deuce in the head with a spare candlestick on accident. He wasn't okay, to say the least.

Not only that, but in Crewels class, you weren't paired up with your beloved boyfriend, Jamil! Crewel decided to pair you up with Sebek, and his loud yelling made you lose focus and fuck up the potion, earning a really bad scold from both Sebek, AND Crewel.

But luckily, it was Friday. After school. And you wanted some comfort. And what better way to get that from Jamil himself? Going to the mirror chamber, you get teleported to Scarabia.

Knocking on the door, you're greeted with the ball of sunshine of NRC, the Scarabia housewarden himself. "Hey you! I've been hoping you'd swing by, Jamil seems a little down, think you can cheer him up?" Seems like he's in the same position. No worries, you guys are always help eachother through bad times. Having kalim escort you throughout the halls, you're infront of his door, Jamils door.

Knocking on the door, Kalim yells out to him, "hey Jamil! Your s/o is here! They wanna hang out with you!" He leans on the door, ear pressed against it as you do the same. You can hear jamil yawn from the other side, seems as though he just woke up.

"Come in." He says. Kalim bids his farewell as you open the door to see your beloved. "Ah, my love, I've been hoping you'd come by." He said with a smile as he stood up from his desk. "Jamil! I'm so glad you're here, I heard from Kalim that you were upset.. are you okay?" "I'm more worried about you, dear. You've had quite the week. I've been worrying about you, thats all."

He walks over to his closet and pulls out a stick of incense. Lighting it up and putting it in a holder, he begins to walk over to you. "How are you doing? Are you okay?" He asks as he takes your hands and leads you to sit on his bed, sitting next to you after. You start to twiddle your thumbs, something he picked up that you did when you were nervous.

"I'm just.. I'm so tired... mentally, physically, everything hurts.." you say as you begin to shed tears. Jamil lightly cups your face with one hand and takes your hands in his empty one. He leaves Featherlite kisses on you cheeks as your tears start to spill, he places a soft kiss on your lips before speaking. "Honey, I know this is hard, okay? But im here whenever you need me. I'll always be here, no matter what. You're such an amazing person, everything about you entices me. You're so beautiful, and smart- and I just can't stand seeing you upset. You're so amazing, you don't deserve to feel like this, but im here for you. Always."

Looking into his eyes show nothing but love. He slowly leans in to kiss your lips. Its soft, and sweet. Perfect for him, his lips are so soft against yours. After a few seconds, he pulls away, letting a string of saliva connect the two of you as he places his forehead against yours. "I love you, never forget that." He says, placing another soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You say, deepening the kiss. You begin to nibble on his lower lip, asking for permission and when he gives you it, you slip your tongue in. His mouth is sweet, warm, comforting. You just couldn't help but want more.

You can tell he was getting excited. He usually does when the two of you make out, but he doesn't say anything most of the time. He just excuses himself and takes care of it, coming back like nothing happened. But, what if you just, took it further this time? I mean, Jamil was such an amazing boyfriend, who else would you want to take your first? You knew he was a virgin too, though you have talked about sex in the past with him you couldn't help but notice how shy he'd get when you got too close.

Taking the initiative, you place your palm on his growing bulge, just to earn a surprised grunt from Jamil, followed with him pulling away from the kiss and halting your movements by holding your wrist. "(Y/n).. what are you doing? I mean, I know what you're doing, but are you sure nows a good time? I mean, like, I want to do this, I do, but, you're upset.. you're vulnerable.. I dont want to take advantage of that. I want you to be in the right mindset for this.. thats all." He looks at you with genuine concern in his eyes, but deep down you can see a hint of lost aswell.

"Jamil.. please, I need you. I've wanted this for so long and I just need a stress reliever.. please, you're the only one who can make me feel better.." tears start to form in your eyes out of sexual frustration. Cant someone just want to be dicked down by their boyfriend in peace? Apparently not in this economy.

Jamil takes a second to think, hand still cupping your face as he avoids looking you in the eye. Looking back at you, he begins to speak. "I just don't want you to think im taking advantage of your vulnerability. So, tell me you want this, and I'll give you everything I have. Promise." He says as he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I want this, I want you Jamil." You say with a nod. A smile shows on his face as he stands up and walks to his bathroom. Coming back after a few moments, he has some things in his hands. "I have condoms and stuff, but if you want to we can do it raw and have you take plan b in the morning? Whatever you want dear, im fine with whatever." Taking a minute to scan everything over, you answer. "Raw. Raw is better. Cum inside me too. Please." Blunt. Jamil got so red from you saying that, he starts tripping over his words, which puts a smile on your face.

"Are you sure? Like, SERIOUSLY, are you sure?? I'm just, I-I'm flattered, really, but we don't have to do this, im okay with wearing condoms, or not doing anything at all!" Jamil says as he avoids looking you in the eyes again. Instead of answering with words, you just answer by kissing him, interlocking your fingers with his, giving them a tight yet gentle squeeze. He seems to take the hint and goes back to the bathroom with everything in hand, putting it away.

He comes back looking as red as a tomato as he walks to the bed and sits next to you. Turning to you, you're able to finally be able to catch his lips into a sweet kiss again. This one getting heated quickly with your tongues dancing in a matter of seconds. You begin to take his jacket off as he slowly unbuttons your dress shirt, leaving enough open so he can begin touching your exposed skin. Slipping of his shirt, you begin to touch his chest, reveling in how toned his stomach is.

He begins to slip off your panties with one hand while the other touches the plush of your thighs. Taking the undergarments off and throwing them somewhere in the room, the takes his middle and ring finger and begins to grab slick while unintentionally brushing up against your clit, earning a loud, unexpected moan from you. He begins to push his fingers into your entrance while kissing you, swallowing and hushing your moans.

As he begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, he takes his thumb and begins to stimulate your clit, which makes you scream his name whilst breaking your kiss. "Shhh honey, I know you like it, but we must be quiet, we don't want anyone intruding, do we?" He says with a tease in his voice as he begins sucking hickeys on your neck in private places. You still have school after all, he wouldn't want you to get in trouble.

With all of the stimulation, you can quite quickly. How couldn't you? Jamil had two fingers inside you, scissoring and curling while his thumb was rubbing circles on you clit. Coming down from your high, you take steady breaths as Jamil begins to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants and boxers off in one go.

Placing one hand on your hip as his other aligns his long, stiff member with your entrance, he looks into your eyes with nothing bit pure love. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, or want to switch positions, or stop or anything during this, just bite my ear okay? And im not saying nibble, im saying full on bite. I dont give a shit if you draw blood i just want you to be comfortable and happy, okay?" Nodding your head in anticipation, he kisses you as he slowly sinks his member into you.

It hurts. The pain is indescribable, but it quickly morphs into pleasure as he sinks in more. Jamil begins to groan, softly saying under his breath how tight you are, how you're taking him so well, how beautiful you look. Spoonfeeding you praise after praise as he reaches you deepest ends of you.

Finally bottoming out, he hugs your waist, kissing your neck softly. "Tell me when I can move, love." Waiting a minute or two to be adjusted to his size, you speak up. "You can move now." And with that, he begins to thrust in and out of you. Choked moans fill the room from you both as he tries to find a steady pace.

Jamil begins to lean down to your ear, praising how good you feel, telling you how amazing you are and telling you how lucky he is to have you. As he begins to thrust harder and deeper, he begins to kiss you. Its more teeth and tongue than anything, you're both acting like starved beasts who haven't eaten in days.

As Jamil experimentally pulls out and slams his cock back into you, the both of you groan loudly, realizing that he hit your g-spot. As he continues to go in and out of you at a rapid, yet somehow soft pace, you begin to feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Leaning to your ear, he praises you more. "My love, you're making me feel so good. I know you already said I could, but will you please give me permission to cum inside you? You make me feel so amazing, I need you so bad." He says as you moan his name again, not caring who'll hear anymore. Nodding as permission, he releases he load into you, making a few deep thrusts so you cum aswell.

Laying together to catch your breaths, Jamil slowly pulls out, watching as your body twitches from being empty. Going into his bathroom again, he grabs two waters and some sweets for you. "Eat up. You lost a lot of energy just now. I'll go and run a bath for us."

Once you're finished with your snacks and water, Jamil carries you bridal style to the bathroom. Placing you in the bath first, he climbs in after you. He then snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. As he begins to wash you up, shampooing your hair and putting bodywash on you, your hands find their way back to his semi hardened member. Jamil practically chokes on his moan as you begin to stroke him, running your finger up and down his shaft.

He looks at you with confusion, earning a small chuckle from you. "One more round? Please?" You say, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He let's out a sigh, picking you up by the waist and slowly sinking you down on his now hardened cock. Getting into a position where your face is buried in his chest, you're content with not moving and just staying as is.

As he begins to wash you more, barely moving his hips as his one hand grips your waist, he starts to kiss more marks into your neck again. "My love, you've sparked something in me. Now im not sure if I can stop after 'one more round'," he practically growls in your ear. This may have been one long week, but this was going to be an even longer night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#jamil viper #jamil x yuu #jamil x mc #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper smut #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #kalim is here btw hes just not important #we still love him though dont worry #twst jamil

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yongility · 8 months ago

Text

NEO TV # ROCKABYE (taeyong x reader) 1/?.

genre: single dad au, ceo au, fluff, slightly angst, smut.

warnings: adult language, death mentions, idk there’s not a lot of warning for this one.

word count: 7k

a/n: if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

During his childhood, Taeyong always dreamed a thousand times about what adult life would bring him. His mind was always filled with those dreams that led him to his future. Would he become a firefighter? One of his earliest wishes formed when he was barely five years old; or would he perhaps become an idol in the Korean industry? He had wished too much to become one after seeing a performance on some TV channel. What if he became a police officer? Or a secret agent? Movies of that genre had always excited him, and he was sure he could become someone who would care for and protect the city if he set his mind to it.

However, reality hit him when he turned sixteen. As an only child, he would have to take over his father's business responsibilities once he retired. So no matter how much he dreamed or how much he wanted to be as an adult, because he would end up in an office, surrounded by papers to sign, with meetings to attend and deals to close.

And that's where he was now, at twenty-six years old, in the office that once belonged to his father and that was now filled with what he once wanted to escape. Still, he was grateful that his father had taught him enough to become the great businessman he is now. His father, who had been a great man, who had taught him incredible things about life, who had shaped him for any situation, who expected him to always give his best... but he never prepared him for what came to his ears that particular winter morning. Those words that left him frozen in the middle of his office. The words his brain couldn't process and that hit him like a bucket of cold water.

"Mr. Lee, we need you to come urgently to Seoul General Hospital, your daughter needs you."

Daughter... Daughter... Daughter...

What was that person talking about on the other end of the line? Was it some kind of joke? No, he didn't think anyone was twisted enough to joke about something like that.

But had he heard correctly?

"Mr. Lee, are you still on the line?"

A simple murmur came from his throat, still deeply pondering what those words from that person meant.

"We're very sorry about what happened to Miss Shin, however, we require your presence as soon as possible to fill out the necessary forms so that your daughter can leave the hospital with you."

Daughter... HIS daughter...

Taeyong's hands began to sweat profusely, his head began to spin, and his stomach began to feel nauseous. His office wasn't even as large as it used to be a few minutes ago. Now, it was getting smaller and smaller. Why did he suddenly start feeling hot? Wasn't it supposed to be snowing outside?

Was he about to faint? No, not now Taeyong. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Daughter.

"Mr. Lee?"

Again, that voice called him, like a drill to his ears. Taeyong took a gulp of air and snapped out of his deep trance. He wiped his hands on his suit pants and swallowed hard.

"I... um... I'll be right there."

You'll go? But you don't even have a daughter, Lee Taeyong… Ms. Shin? Who the hell was Shin?

But he had to go, a girl was waiting for him somewhere in that hospital, and before anything else, he had to clarify this situation. He had to go and clarify everything.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be in this situation. What would he do with his life if everything turned out to be true? What would he do being a father?

Oh, Lee Taeyong, you have many things ahead of you. Good luck with that.

______________________________________________

"Before entering the operating room, and knowing the possible scenarios that could occur during the process, that was Miss Shin's will. We were not aware that you were unaware of the situation, however..."

Taeyong's body went into autopilot, with the words reaching his ears and the crying coming from the baby lying in his arms, he didn't know what to think and what to do. Next to him, a window was there, and from there, you could notice the snow falling gently and the wind moving the leaves of the trees slightly.

He cautiously looked at the tiny piece of human lying irritated on his arms. Why wouldn't she be quiet? Was she hungry? Was her diaper dirty? What would he know! He had never had a baby in his care and didn't even know the basic care they required. Him, a father? Never, never crossed his mind.

What was he supposed to do?

"... realizing the situation presented, we'll have to extend a few more days, we'll need a blood test to determine if you're really the father of this girl."

Taeyong's attention shifted from the little one and completely turned to the social worker in front of him.

"We understand that the situation may be very confusing and unexpected for you, but you were the only person Miss Shin gave us information about, ensuring that you are the father. Blood test results usually take from a week to ten days to be ready, so until we know the relationship between you and the baby, she'll have to stay in maternal care, still, we need you to show up here at least once a day. The little one needs warmth, in this case, fatherly warmth to feel calm, if the results find compatibility, we'll arrange all the necessary paperwork for you to take her home without any problem. If it turns out that there's no compatibility, the little one will be transferred to an orphanage where we'll make sure to find her a good family," the woman finished with a small smile.

Taeyong's confusion was still there, everything was spinning in his head, but he was at peace that the little one was now simply asleep. He didn't understand what was happening, but now, seeing the baby, something grew inside him. She looked so small, so fragile... so peaceful. Did she mention something about an orphanage? How could something so small be thrown into something as difficult as that? Confused by his thoughts and memories, the face of Shin Jein came to mind, and he remembered the short moment he would have shared with her some time ago and what, possibly, had resulted in what was now in his arms. So yes, there was even a small chance that they shared a part of DNA, but was he ready to take such a big responsibility into his hands? Would he have to rearrange a room just for her? Money wasn't a problem. How would he change her diaper? How many bottles should she take? Maybe he should hire a nanny. God, so many things were running through his head, and he didn't even know if he was her father or not. What he did know was that if the results were positive, he would pull up his pants, take responsibility and give the little girl the best he could. In the end, that's what his father had taught him; to take responsibility for his actions and face them like the man he was, and he would, even when he knew he wasn't even half prepared to do it.

"Are you okay with everything I've told you, Mr. Lee?" the social worker glanced at him and then at the baby. He brought his index finger cautiously to the baby's soft cheeks and then to her tiny hands, who, in a clever reflex, wrapped her hand around his finger. A lump formed in Taeyong's throat, and his eyes welled up. What would he do?

"Yes," his voice trembled so he cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, I agree."

The worker gave him an empathetic smile and nodded in understanding, jotting down a few things on her tablet and then sighing.

"I have to go prepare some papers for the first phase of the process, which would be the blood test. In a moment, I'll send a nurse to take samples from both of you and to help you with the baby if necessary. You can stay here for as long as you want, and when you leave, the nurses will take care of her," she said before leaving the room and leaving Taeyong alone in the middle of the room with a weight in his arms. Carefully, he moved to a small chair next to a window. He sighed heavily and looked at the baby, and then he couldn't hold back any longer and a sob escaped from him.

He had thousands of emotions running from the tips of his toes to his head. He was confused, he was sensitive, he was frustrated. His face soon filled with tears, and the room with his sobs. Luckily, the little one seemed so immersed in her sleep that she wasn't even affected by the noises of her potential father.

Daughter... Father...

How much weight those words carried. How much it meant. Could he be a good father? He never lacked love at home, sure, sometimes his father could be tough on him, but it was part of growing up and part of understanding what life was. He could say he had a good example when it came to fatherhood, now, could he put it into practice?

To be honest, he was afraid. Afraid of many things. He was an older man, why the hell should he be afraid? He feared not being enough, he feared making mistakes and that the little one in his arms would pay for them. What if he didn't fully learn what being a father entailed? He was on his own, he didn't have a wife, he didn't have a girlfriend to help him with it. His friends... what would his friends know about taking care of babies? And his parents, damn, he had to let his parents know about the situation. In the end, they were the only close people who had some experience in this new world for him.

His routine would change. Would he have to adapt his office to a space dedicated to her? Would he have to leave her in a nursery to attend his work? Or hire a nanny to take care of her in his apartment? He couldn't go out as he used to, and if his sleep schedule was messed up now, it would be even more so. How long would it take for a baby to fall asleep?

But what if... what if the results were negative? Would he just leave, forget what happened, and let luck take care of the little one and find her a suitable family? Would he be able to do that?

He didn't know. Damn it! He had no fucking idea what he would do. Just a few hours ago, he was simply Lee Taeyong, the CEO of Lee Company. Someone single, with no commitments other than his job. And now what? Would Lee Taeyong be a single father?

His head began to ache, and he didn't know if it was from all the thoughts in it or from how much he had cried that he was sure he couldn't shed another tear.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing softly and slowly, with no intention of waking up from the peaceful sleep the baby was in. After a few minutes of being in that state, the sound of the door opening made him unconsciously open his eyes, finding a young nurse entering the room.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lee," a delicate voice called him. "I'm Nurse (Y/N), I'll be the one taking the blood tests, and I'll be the one in charge of the baby," she announced softly and with a small smile.

Taeyong only managed to nod, and with his free hand (the one not holding the baby), he wiped his face, erasing any trace of tears. No words came out of his mouth because he really wasn't thinking straight. His thoughts and thousands of scenarios were haunting his head, and this made it impossible for him to concentrate, even in the slightest.

"Of course," was all he managed to say.

(Y/N) smiled again slightly and approached them with a couple of things in her hands. She sat in the chair next to the boy, and on a small table, she perfectly arranged everything and addressed him.

"All right, I need to take a small blood sample from the baby," she said, taking one of the small needles and turning slightly toward them. "I'll need you to hold her tight, please," she asked kindly.

Taeyong's eyes widened when he saw the needle and then he looked at the baby, and instinctively, he pulled her closer to his chest in an attempt to protect her, so (Y/N) let out a tender laugh, and he saw her with a furrowed brow. What was she laughing about?

"It'll be quick, I promise," she assured confidently.

"Will it hurt her?" he asked, almost obvious.

"It'll only be for a moment. It won't take long, and besides, if you're there for her, it'll be easy to calm her down," she commented, taking the baby's tiny hand and resting it on the large hand of her - potential - father, who, in a reflex, held her firmly. (Y/N) carefully brought the needle to the baby's index finger and without hesitation, pricked it, causing a few drops of blood to fall in the necessary place. The baby, in an instinct, woke up from her peaceful sleep, and a loud cry echoed throughout the room, automatically causing Taeyong to cuddle her more against his chest.

Something that did not go unnoticed by the eyes of the nurse, who just smiled tenderly at the boy's actions towards the little baby. She knew the situation, and it was one that worried her now that she saw the man's behavior. Internally, she wished that the results would be good because it seemed, at first glance, that Lee Taeyong wished the same.

"Now I have to do the same with you," she murmured after having arranged the next necessary equipment and disinfected what would be necessary. "May I?" she asked, stretching her arms toward the baby, and Taeyong looked at her with doubtful eyes, brought the girl closer to his chest, and stopped rocking her after her crying stopped. "I'll just put her in the crib next to you. I need you to stretch out your arm so I can take the blood test, and I don't think it's possible to do it while you're holding your daugh... the baby," she corrected. "As soon as we finish, if you want, you can pick her up again or let her rest in the crib," she said calmly.

Taeyong let out a small breath and nodded slowly, passing the little baby to the nurse's (Y/N) arms, who took her delicately and left her with great care in the crib next to him. Rocking her gently and making the baby close her eyes.

Without much to say, (Y/N) proceeded to take her utensils, and Taeyong rolled up his sleeve, allowing his arm to be exposed for the nurse to do her job, who placed the needle assertively in a vein, causing the boy to give a tiny jump in his place, and then the needle filled with the necessary blood for the test.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking her things and briefly leaving the room. Taeyong held a cotton ball with alcohol on the recent wound and stood in the middle of the room, processing the sudden events of his crazy day, and after a few minutes, the girl came back into the room to find, surprisingly, Taeyong in the same place without the girl in his arms.

"If you want, you can go out for a moment to get some fresh air," (Y/N) spoke kindly. "I know you need it, she's sleeping right now, and I can stay here to take care of her. After all, I'm the nurse in charge. You can go out for a moment, get a coffee, or maybe something to eat. I assure you she'll be here waiting for you to come back, but I think you need to clear your mind a little."

And she was right.

Taeyong's eyes went to the crib and the little figure inside it, he sighed and nodded slightly. "Th-thank you," he murmured, clearing his throat a bit. "I suppose a bit of fresh air would do me good."

She smiled, and he walked slowly to the door of the room, giving one last look to the nurse and to his daugh-... the baby in the crib. He straightened his posture, and as he walked, he undid the knot of his tie, going directly to the entrance of the hospital where, once there, he took his phone out of his pants pocket and dialed a few numbers, bringing the device to his ear and again, taking a breath.

One ring... two rings... three rings...

Please pick up...

"Sweetheart?" a female voice was heard on the other end of the line, and this simply caused another knot to form in the boy's throat.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

______________________________________________

On the fourth day after receiving the news that seemed to turn Lee Taeyong's world upside down, he found himself again in that small hospital room, sitting by the same window where he had been on the first day after meeting the little one. This time, the baby was not resting in his arms; now, she was in the small crib beside him, emitting little snores that showed how much she enjoyed her sleep. Taeyong smiled to himself.

It had only been four long days since then, and every time he saw the little one, he could feel something, something telling him that he should take her and take her home, be a father to her and fill her with as much love as he could.

But the fear lingered; he didn't want to get ahead of himself, and he didn't want to get attached to her, even though it was impossible not to. He feared he wouldn't be a good father, and in the worst-case scenario, he feared negative results. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine what would become of the little girl if she were sent to an orphanage.

Would he to want to adopt her to ensure she lacked nothing? Or should he give a chance to a couple who could take care of her?

Four days and he still didn't know what to do.

So, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the wild thoughts, and focused his gaze on his phone, which was playing a video on YouTube. Taeyong watched the screen intently, his brow slightly furrowed and a smirk on his face. So, with all his attention on the screen, he didn't notice the entrance of a certain nurse who had been his company - and in a way, his support - during the past few days. She carried some instruments and a coffee in her hands, which she left on the small table next to Taeyong, who seemed unaware of her presence. This surprised her.

Cautiously, she peered at the boy's screen and couldn't help but let out a slight laugh when she noticed what had kept Lee Taeyong so concentrated, which now, with the noise caused by (Y/N), distracted him and made him look at her confused.

"What are you watching?" she asked curiously.

Taeyong shrunk in his chair and quickly pocketed his phone, then scratched his neck sheepishly.

"It-it’s nothing," he murmured.

"Were you watching a tutorial on how to change a baby's diaper?" she teased with a playful smile.

"Maybe," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks turn crimson.

"How cute," she whispered, but despite that, he could hear her perfectly. "I can help if you want," she offered, extending the coffee she had previously brought in her hands. Taeyong gladly accepted it and looked at her with bright eyes.

"Really?" he asked quickly.

"Of course, if it's important to you, I can help," (Y/N) expressed, peeking into the crib and seeing a peaceful baby smiling in her dreams, melting her heart completely.

(Y/N) had seen hundreds of babies come and go in this hospital; after all, it was part of her job as a pediatric nurse. She had heard hundreds of stories about each family's background and had cared for and treated several little ones. But there was something about that little one that moved her heart. Of course, there were other babies who melted her heart with the slightest thing they did, but the baby in front of her particularly did so even more. She didn't know if her story had touched her more, she didn't know if her potential father had anything to do with that feeling. She really didn't know, but she wholeheartedly wished that both Taeyong and the baby would have what they deserved.

"Thank you very much," Taeyong's hoarse voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "It means a lot to me, everything you've done these past few days... I... I'm very grateful for it," he said sincerely, and she smiled at him.

"It's nothing, really," she replied. "When it's time to change her diaper, I'll give you a class on how to do it, after that, you won't have to resort to a YouTube channel, I assure you," she spoke teasingly, to which Taeyong chuckled softly.

"God, this is embarrassing," he covered his face with his hands so that (Y/N) wouldn't notice how red he was getting. Did he look silly doing that? What a shame.

Suddenly, a few babblings made both of their gazes fall on the crib, and with delicacy, (Y/N) and Taeyong approached the crib, watching the little one slowly opening her eyes until they were fully open, and she continued babbling, perhaps hoping to be picked up by the arms she had become so accustomed to and which provided her with the right warmth for her body.

What a pain it would be if he didn't turn out to be the father. A voice filled the nurse's head after seeing Taeyong, carrying the little one in his arms and gently rocking her while murmuring a few words to her in a low voice.

"Wow, little one, you woke up very pretty today," (Y/N) spoke, and that voice caught the baby's attention. As best as she could, the baby smiled slightly, causing Taeyong to smile even more. "If I'm honest... she and you have the same eyes," she murmured, approaching their bodies.

She made mistake. How could she say that?

"Do... do you think so?" he asked hopefully.

Sometimes you should keep your mouth shut.

She swallowed slowly and looked at the little one, then at Taeyong, and then nodded.

"Indeed... your eyes are very unique, Mr. Lee," (Y/N) replied. "I mean, your eyes are big, they look like the cartoons my nephews watch in the afternoons. Hers are very similar, her eyes are big, and the color is very alike. Both of you have very beautiful eyes," she whispered the latter, but despite wanting to say it just for herself, it ended up in Taeyong's ears, who looked at (Y/N) with a sparkle in his eyes and then at the little one in his arms.

"Well, I suppose you're right, she has very beautiful eyes," he smiled tenderly and gently rested his forehead on the baby's head. "I hope you're right," he murmured.

______________________________________________

"Then you have to fold these two ends, and... there you go, the diaper will be as it should. Did you understand?" (Y/N) finished explaining while carefully placing the baby's diaper.

"Wow, you make it look so easy," Taeyong commented, surprised. "Easier than that YouTube video."

(Y/N) chuckled lightly and then looked at the guy.

"Would you like to dress her up?" she questioned, pointing to the set of clothes next to the baby. Taeyong, without hesitation, nodded and went to the little one. Taking each piece carefully and putting it on the girl even more cautiously, who was awake and moving her eyes around, possibly trying to find a silhouette.

(Y/N) watched the scene in front of her eyes with tenderness and couldn't help but smile. What was it that caught her attention because of them? What was it that made them particles to be absorbed every time she set her eyes on them? The little baby began to whimper softly, causing Taeyong to quicken his pace but still being careful to finish putting on her clothes.

Clothes he had bought himself with the help of his mother.

He took the little one in his arms and rocked her between them murmuring soft words to calm her down. It felt like such a familiar, personal moment... that (Y/N) almost felt like she shouldn't be there, as if she shouldn't allow herself to see that scene. The baby seemed to have gotten used to the warmth of the boy, and as soon as his voice was present in the room, it was enough to calm her whimpers.

How could they have connected so quickly in just four days?

But one thing Taeyong had been sure of was that since the moment the baby's little hand wrapped around his index finger on day one... the little one had won his heart. He hadn't admired a being so much until she did that tiny action; an action that made him question his entire life.

"Should I give her a name already?" Taeyong asked out of the blue, causing (Y/N) to slowly shake her head and look at him with a puzzled expression on her face. "I mean, it's been almost five days since she was born, and I keep calling her baby, or little one... I guess she should have a name," he commented, lightly booping the baby's nose. "But giving her a name also means I'm tying myself to her. I... the results aren't ready yet and if..."

"It would be nice for her to finally have a name," the nurse responded, nodding. "But if you think you should wait..." she approached him. "I heard the results will be ready soon, maybe you'll have them tomorrow, just don't tell Mrs. Kwan that I told you because she'll get me in trouble," she joked. "I'm sure this little one can wait one more day, right, cutie?" (Y/N) addressed the baby in her arms, and she reacted with a babble that melted them in that same place.

For the first time in the four days of sharing moments with the kind nurse, Taeyong took the attention off the baby in his arms and put it completely on the girl beside him. Who smiled while giving some affection to the baby with a huge smile on her face. But what a beautiful smile she had, how had he not noticed it after spending so much time with her? Was he so immersed with the little one that he hadn't even noticed her company? Things sure do change so drastically, if it weren't for the fact that he was now responsible for a little girl, he would have asked for her phone number after the second day. Surely the Taeyong of a week ago would have done that... would things be like this from now on?

He swallowed slowly and looked back at the little girl, who yawned slightly and brought one of her hands to her face. Taeyong smiled and nodded a few times.

"Yes, I'll wait until then."

______________________________________________

“So are you telling me that you've been missing all week because you've been taking care of a baby who could be your daughter?" his friend looked at him expectantly, what kind of madness has he gotten into now? "Taeyong, it's been years since you've had a relationship with someone, what makes you think you're a father to that baby?"

"Formally, Doyoung," Taeyong corrected as he massaged his temple. "I haven't been in a formal relationship for a while, still, I went on dates occasionally," he explained, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his desk chair.

"Have you ever heard of protection, Lee Taeyong?" his friend asked curiously. Taeyong's nostrils flared, and he let out a big sigh. "So, if the results are positive, what will you do? Will you take the little girl to your house?"

Taeyong nodded; "after all, I would be the father."

"And her family? Do you know anything about them?" the long-eyed guy asked cautiously.

"No. When they explained the situation with Jein to me, they told me she hadn't left any information about family and only left mine. I don't know her family. Our thing wasn't formal, we went out a couple of times, but we decided to stop seeing each other because we weren't in the place we wanted at the time. After that, I heard nothing from her... until five days ago."

"And what a surprise she left you!" his friend exclaimed, getting up from his seat and pacing back and forth with his hands on his waist.

"Doyoung," Taeyong lightly scolded. Sometimes he wasn't the most tactful person.

"Why didn't you call me five days ago, Taeyong? I could have accompanied you, did you go through all this alone?"

"Not completely alone, Mom was there sometimes and..." he paused momentarily when (Y/N)'s face appeared in his thoughts, smiling mischievously he continued: "the nurses have also been a great support, besides, what do you know about kids?" he reprimanded.

"What do you know about kids?" Kim curiously replied, raising one of his eyebrows.

"At least, for your information, I already know how to change a diaper," he proudly replied, then fell silent for a few seconds and changed his demeanor. "But seriously Doyoung, I appreciate your concern for me, but things have been like this, all that's left is to wait for the results to come in and everything will be determined. All I need is support, not for you to come and question me a thousand times when I don't even have the answer to half of them," he spoke as he got up from his seat and walked towards his friend, standing in front of him.

Doyoung looked at him with slight pity and lowered his gaze before giving him a few light taps on his shoulder and nodding slightly.

"I'm sorry, man. It's just that you worry me. In the last five days, I knew nothing about you because you weren't answering your calls and your secretary said you wouldn't receive visitors and that you had canceled all your meetings. I can't say I understand what you're going through, but it's a very drastic change and after hearing it, I don't want you to... I don't want you to be affected by the results. From what you're telling me and how you're saying it, Taeyong, you're very invested, and if those results are negative, I know you'll be devastated."

The brunette looked him straight in the eyes and avoided letting a few tears escape when he felt a lump in his throat. He clenched his fist on his friend's forearm, who was still leaning on his shoulder, and pressed his lips together. Why was he suddenly so vulnerable? How could he have changed in just less than a week?

"I know, Dodo... I don't want it either," he said in a low voice. "But that little one deserves something beautiful, and I'll make sure to give it to her, regardless of whether I'm her father or not."

"How would you do that?" his friend questioned.

"I don't know... I really don't know," he finished saying so that both fell into a deep silence right there, in the middle of the large office.

Taeyong was restless, (Y/N) had mentioned that the possible results would be in today, it was almost five in the afternoon, and he hadn't received a single call from the maternity care ward. Would he have to wait a few more days? He hoped not and trusted the nurse with charming eyes, if she had said that maybe he would receive the news today, then today he would receive it.

On the other hand, he felt good about sharing his situation with his best friend. Who has accompanied him during the most remote moments of his childhood until today, and knew that despite how tough or serious Doyoung could sometimes be... his friend only sought the best for Taeyong and no matter what happened, even if a baby suddenly appeared in their lives, he would always support him.

Even if he didn't show it as explicitly as other people.

But Taeyong knew him and he knew him like the back of his hand, and knew that behind those sarcastic sentences, there was a concerned and caring guy. He couldn't wait for him and the little one in the hospital to meet.

And then the sound of a phone inside the office broke the deep silence, Taeyong and Doyoung looked at each other as if they were thinking the same thing, and the latter nodded his head towards the older man's desk, who hurriedly ran towards it. Awkwardly, Taeyong picked up the phone and answered the call with a trembling voice.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Lee? What a pleasure to find you! This is Mrs. Kwan, the social worker from the maternity ward," he could hear the voice on the other end of the line. Taeyong's eyes widened, and he nodded repeatedly, as if the other person could see him. Doyoung caught his friend's reaction and ran towards him, standing by his side and pressing his ear against the free side of the phone to listen. Taeyong looked at him strangely and lightly pushed him with his shoulder. His friend didn't take long to react and also pushed him lightly before nodding his head encouraging him to answer the call and putting his ear back on the phone's receiver with a curious expression on his face.

"Oh, Mrs. Kwan, what a pleasure to hear from you, what has happened?" he asked pretending not to understand the situation.

"Just don't tell Mrs. Kwan that I've told you this, she'll get me in trouble if you do," (Y/N)'s voice echoed in his head.

"I hope I'm not calling at an inconvenient time, but I wanted to let you know that the results have arrived at the clinic, and we require your presence to be able to read them," Taeyong's face lit up, and between him and Doyoung, they smiled, the latter once again gave him a little push on his shoulder for him to continue the conversation being held online.

"Oh yes... yes yes yes. Of course, I...," the words couldn't come out correctly from his mouth. "I'll come as soon as possible," he said after clearing his throat slightly. "Thank you for calling, Mrs. Kwan, see you in a few moments," he finished saying to end the call, where he stood still with the phone in his hands while Doyoung hopped around in his place.

"Hyung, the results are done," he said, patting him on the back, however, his friend didn't react. "Taeyong? Aren't we going?" he called him again without an immediate response.

Thousands of things and scenarios ran through Taeyong's mind. He was about to know the truth, one that could be completely satisfying or... completely catastrophic. Five days ago, the news of possibly being a father had hit him like a bucket of ice water, he questioned his entire existence, and fear had paralyzed him, yet, as the days went by and he saw that small face so peaceful and so tender when he arrived at the hospital, he had wished that it was all true, regardless of the weight it would have.

What if the results weren't compatible? He would then have to give up and say goodbye to the little person who had been lifting him with spirits every morning for the last five days. He would have to turn around as he watched the little one being taken somewhere waiting for someone to take care of her. How long did children wait before even a couple could adopt them? Months? Years? He couldn't let her go through that, he simply couldn't. He had to be the one to take responsibility, he was sure of that.

"Taeyong!" his friend's voice and a shake from him made him look into his eyes as he took a deep breath. Taeyong bit his lip and left the phone on the desk, straightened his suit, and slowly walked towards the exit.

"Let's go, Doyoung."

______________________________________________

Both boys walked quickly through the hospital corridors, avoiding bumping into anyone along the way. Doyoung was like a confused puppy as he simply followed Taeyong from behind.

"Yong, where is the maternity ward?"

"To the right," the older replied, turning to one side and entering a room where they could see nurses walking back and forth. Taeyong abruptly stopped to search for the social worker with his eyes. He moved his head at different angles until he could finally spot her at the end of the room. He gave Doyoung a couple of pats on the chest and quickly walked towards her, with his friend once again following him. "Mrs. Kwan," he called out, causing her to turn around and give him a warm smile while holding a few papers in her hand.

"Mr. Lee! Thank you for responding to the call so quickly," she exclaimed enthusiastically. "The results arrived this morning, but we had to sort out some things here, so it was difficult to call you earlier," she commented.

Taeyong nodded and moved anxiously in his place. He tried to dry his hands on his pants, which were starting to sweat, and moved his leg impatiently, watching as Mrs. Kwan carefully read the documents in her hand.

"And... well?" Taeyong blurted out with curiosity.

"Oh yes, of course. After reading the results and evaluating other criteria, it remains to say that there is nothing..." she paused briefly to read, and this only caused Taeyong to stop breathing and clench his jaw, while Doyoung opened his eyes expectantly. "... nothing preventing you from taking the little one home," she continued. "The results showed the compatibility percentages we were looking for, and we are aware that you are in an economic position that allows you to provide for her primary needs. In addition, after the observations that both I and the hospital psychologist have been making regarding your individual behavior and with the baby, we believe that you have the ability to take care of the little one."

"So... so I... can... I mean, I'll be able to..."

"Yes, Mr. Lee, you can take her with you."

Taeyong felt the air return to his body and the tension dissipate in a snap. Had he heard correctly? He looked at the social worker, then at his friend, who was looking at him with a grin from ear to ear, and then he felt his eyes welling up and his heart fluttering. He threw himself at his friend, who hugged him in place, and Taeyong let out a small sob while feeling his friend's pats on his back.

"Doyoung..." he murmured.

"I know, Taeyong, I know," he replied without letting him finish. "You can go home with her."

The social worker cleared her throat slightly, causing Taeyong to separate from his friend and wipe away his few tears, then look at her.

"I am very pleased to give you this news, Mr. Lee. We were aware of the connection you had formed with the little one, and we are sure that she will receive nothing but love and a good life. We personally took care of expediting the document process, and all you have to do now is sign some papers so that you can finally take her home. The only thing we request after this is that you are in the conditions to do so, so... does your car have a baby seat?" she asked curiously.

Doyoung and Taeyong looked at each other and then left the place as if on cloud nine, leaving the social worker alone, perplexed and not understanding what had just happened.

"Oh, newbies," Mrs. Kwan sighed as she turned around to continue her duties.

______________________________________________

In the baby products aisle, Taeyong and Doyoung were lost. Well, actually, it was Doyoung who was lost, after all, Taeyong had come before accompanied by his mother, so he could feel at least – a little – familiar with what was in front of him. So he cautiously looked at each of the baby seats on the shelves, with one hand on his hip and the other on his chin as he tried to figure out which one was the best.

"Doyoung, what are you doing?" asked the dark-haired one without turning to look at him, but feeling him move back and forth, while Doyoung was examining the baby diaper packages, holding three packages in his hands as best he could.

Which one would be better for his niece? Super absorbent or super comfortable?

He looked at each package again and murmured... the boy on the super absorbent diaper package looks very happy.

"Doyoung?" he requested his attention again, and when he came out of his deep concentration on diapers, the aforementioned one jumped in surprise and the packages fell from his hands, causing Taeyong to finally turn to look at him. "What the hell were you doing?"

"I was seeing which diapers I should buy for my niece," murmured Doyoung as he picked up the mess from the floor.

"You don't even know which ones she uses... wait... what?" asked Taeyong surprised as he turned to face him.

"My niece, Tae," replied Doyoung obviously. "Now... am I going to be the godfather? Because let me tell you that among Jaehyun, Johnny, or me, I think I'm the most suitable to be her godfather. Look, I'm the one accompanying you to buy diapers," Doyoung concluded, finally choosing the super absorbent ones.

"But we haven't even come for that," the older one said with a furrowed brow, then the younger one looked at him curiously and held his gaze firmly. "But, okay Dodo, you'll be the godfather, now, if it's not too much trouble, help me with this."

His friend did a slight dance of celebration in his place and as best as he could, he placed the package of diapers between his arm and his rib to hold it, and then helped Taeyong carry the baby seat box and began to walk towards the cashier.

"What are you carrying?"

Doyoung looked at him obviously and huffed.

"The first gift for my niece from me, so... can we go now?"

______________________________________________

Back at the hospital, with the car in the parking lot and a baby seat perfectly placed in the back of it; Taeyong was finishing filling out a form with trembling hands, his friend impatiently tapping his leg, and once he filled out what was necessary, he thanked the social worker profusely, left the waiting room, and headed to the room that now felt so familiar to him, with his heart in his hand and a smile on his face.

And of course, with Doyoung behind him carrying his pack of diapers.

They stopped in front of the room door, and Taeyong closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering the necessary strength because once that door opened... his life would change forever, and it would be for the better. He shook his hands in an attempt to dispel his nervousness and carefully took the handle, which he opened, finding (Y/N) on the other side holding a small diaper bag and with a smile that touched him even more.

"I heard about the results," the nurse said as she approached him and handed him the bag, still smiling. "Congratulations, Mr. Lee” she said sincerely, and Taeyong nodded, feeling his chest squeezed by the different emotions he felt at that precise moment. He believed he had never felt that way in his life. He watched as (Y/N) moved a bit and searched for something inside the pocket of her uniform, from which, delicately, she took out a piece of paper and discreetly handed it to him. "I shouldn't be doing this for many reasons, mainly because it's unprofessional on my part," she confessed, while Taeyong, confused, took the paper between his fingers and noticed a couple of numbers written on it next to a: nurse (Y/N). "But if you don't tell Mrs. Kwan, I won't get in trouble," she laughed lightly. "I hope you don't need it, but if you ever need help, I want you to know that you can contact me, I know all of this is new for you and her. She's an angel, I'd like to help you if you ever need it," (Y/N)'s cheeks blushed slightly, and Taeyong looked at her with tenderness, feeling fortunate to have surrounded himself with supportive people.

"I really appreciate it, it means a lot to me, for real," he smiled kindly. "And, (Y/N)? "he spoke to get her attention. "Don't call me 'Mr.Lee' yes, I'm a dad now, but I'm not much older than you, besides, you won't be the nurse anymore, formality isn't necessary," he explained.

(Y/N) chuckled softly and nodded enthusiastically, approached the crib of the little one to hold her in her arms and appreciate her once again. She caressed her delicate hair and looked at her fondly. She leaned in a little closer to her and whispered, "Good luck in your new life, beautiful. See you soon," she said goodbye lightly, she sighed and turned around to hand the little one over to her now – official – father, who took her in his arms, exchanging a couple of playful glances with the nurse and ended up looking at his daughter.

His daughter. It felt good to be able to say it.

He admired her as the little one let out small snores in her deep sleep. Doyoung watched everything from a considerable distance, with a lump in his throat as he proudly observed his best friend and hugged the pack of diapers to his chest seeking some warmth. Taeyong stroked his daughter's cheek with his index finger and bit his lower lip to prevent himself from crying right there. He carefully pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, letting her scent reach his nostrils. From now on, would that be the aroma that filled his apartment?

"It's time to go home, Sun Hee," he whispered, and that's when he knew there would be nothing else he would rather be doing at that precise moment and place.

taglist is open, lemme know if you want to be tagged in the next part;) hope u like it.

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