#made the whole yard glow

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[casuallyanidiot]

The crows I've been feeding have started leaving me money as gifts lol. It's got me thinking about Yandere crow hybrid who likes to hang around your home. You feed the local birds, just tossing out seed every night, and you never really expect much to come out of it.

MDNI! Dead dove do not Eat!

Tw. Noncon, stalking, monsterfucking, yandere, size difference

Yandere crow who creeps around in the dead of night while you aren't paying attention to you balcony or yard, lest you see the looming, unnerving figure of a large man with shifting obsidian feathers and too sharp teeth. He's patient and only creeps out from beyond the treeline when the sun starts to set, the smaller birds get their fill for the most part, and you aren't able to see him.

At first he didn't care for you all that much, thinking of you as just some faceless human, but then he started to lurk around your house more and more. Maybe you thought that there were more birds coming than there actually were, because Yandere Crow noticed that you were putting out more seed than usual. You were just attentive like that.

Yandere Crow found himself lurking around your windows more often. He liked to peer in and watch you move about your little home. Your home looked so cozy, and his feathers ruffled at the thought of having such a warm, inviting nest. He felt an odd itch to add his own touches to your house. After all, this was his territory. No other corvid was going to come to this specific place unless he allowed them to, and he was feeling a bit protective of this little feeding spot. It totally wasn't because you were so tiny compared to him, or the fact that you were all alone without him there to guard your property.

Yandere Crow who starts to leave you little shiny trinkets. You think that some of the other birds brought them for you, but despite the fact that he knows you're unaware of him, he finds great pride in you laying out the shiny rocks, coins, ribbons and shells he so meticulously picked out.

Yandere Crow who starts drooling and imagining how pretty you'd be cuddled up beside him with soft downy feathers, blankets, and glittering objects surrounding you both. It was such an alluring fantasy that it almost made him forget that you were human and not just another, regular potential mate.

Yandere Crow who starts fucking his fist and cums on your windows, walls, and doorstep. He hopes that once you smell the musky scent, you'll start getting used to his presence.

Yandere Crow who can't take it anymore, and he breaks into your house one evening. He stands there in your kitchen, drinking in just how sweet and perfect you smell. His feathers rustle and brush up against doorways and walls as he follows his nose to find where you are all curled and fast asleep. He croons softly and looms over your pliant form. The talons on his feet tap impatiently on the ground, clunking against hollow wooden floors. He was shifting and shuddering in excitement. He's never been this close to you before, and now that you were here, face cradled in his claws,

You start to stir. Your eyes flutter open, and they widen in shock. He can see the terror filling out your features, and he feels his cock stiffen. Even as he clamps his hand over your cheeks and mouth to stop you from screaming, you're perfect to him. Maybe he wished you were a bit stronger instead of the cute, fragile little thing you are, but then he wouldn't be able to pin you down and hold you like this, would he?

Yandere crow who thinks you look so pretty in the moonlight. It makes you look like you're glowing as he spears you on a dick that's nearly the size of your whole torso. He purrs praises into your ears as you squeal and cry out.

"Shhh, you have to get used to it," He chides and thrusts his hips into you. Your poor, twitching entrance is stretched out past the point of what must be comfortable, and he does feel a twinge of guilt. He didn't properly court you, nor did he really prepare you to be fucked so thoroughly. He nuzzles his face into your hair in an apologetic manner. "But you're doing so good already for me. Just keep taking it."

Yandere Crow who keeps you trapped like that for hours. He likes being lounged across your bed while he holds you tightly against his chest. His favorite sight is the one of your fucked out, drooling face being smushed up on his chest. He can't help but chirp happily. He's made you cum so many times, and your hole is all sloppy and stuffed chalk full of him cum. It's so much that you can't reasonably clean it all out, and the thought fills him with a sense of satisfaction.

Yandere crow who is perfectly happy knowing that of all the birds you've cared for, he's the only one who's been able to get this special treatment from you.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 5.3k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! this chapter contains brief mentions of blood and minor injuries

It was like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop hurting you.

You were only under for a second, maybe less, your lifejacket doing its job, and yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let you drown. 

There wasn’t much logic to it. It wasn’t as though he had emptied the jet ski of all its gas, or that he somehow had control over the weather. 

Technically, none of this was his fault, yet he felt the guilt burn in his chest like he’d swallowed hot coals.

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The second your head emerged, you let out a scream, the salt water in your fresh cut sending hot sparks of pain up your leg.

“Fuck, ow!” You cried, reaching for the jet ski with shaky hands, in so much pain you couldn’t even find it.

“Ohhh baby, are you okay?” Rafe grabbed your hand, squeezing tight as he pulled you towards him in the water, his other arm tethering you both to the jet ski.

“I think I’m bleeding,” you clung to his shoulder, your fingers digging in probably too tight, but the pain was so overwhelming you needed to put it somewhere. He didn’t mind, desperate to take it away however he could.

“Here climb up,” he said, grabbing your waist and boosting you. “The water can’t be helping.”

“Shit,” you both said in unison when you finally got onto the jet ski and revealed the cut on your calf, wider than you thought and bleeding angrily.

“Just hold on, I got you,” he assured, beginning to kick rapidly to start moving the jet ski toward the shore. 

You were scared the whole time, never once taking your eyes off of him. Asking him over and over again if he was okay until you were sure he was sick of it. But not once was there even a hint of agitation in his voice as he promised you he was fine, that you were almost there, that everything was gonna be okay.

His words didn’t do much to convince you, your face flooding with worry when you noticed his breaths getting more strained.

“I’m okay,” he swore to you, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. “We’re almost there.”

It was starting to rain and the thunder was growing louder, there was no argument to be made that you could keep floating safely in the ocean. You resigned to let him keep going, but your eyes never left him, as if it was your appreciation keeping him afloat instead of his lifejacket.

“Thank you,” you said for the fifteenth time.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling with the motion, the expression entirely too joyful for the grim situation you found yourselves in.

“What?” You scoffed, poking his hand with your toe playfully.

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” he explained.

The drizzling rain was chilly, but your body was on fire. You opened your mouth to reply, despite the utter lack of words in your mind, but the sight of your sister appearing in the distance pulled your attention away.

The group that gathered at the dock’s edge was not the happy-go-lucky bunch of friends you’d arrived with a few hours ago.

The dock was only a few yards away now, you were close enough to see Carter slumped on the ground, Topper’s arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug. As Rafe swam you closer, it became more apparent that she was crying. 

“There she is!” Tom shouted, motioning to you.

Carter stood quickly, nearly knocking Topper over, waving her arms in the air frantically like she was trying to land a plane. You waved back, heart aching at the sight of her red, puffy eyes. 

“We’re okay!” You yelled through the rain, trying to ease her worry as the jet ski approached. 

You looked down at Rafe who could hear the commotion but not see it.

“We’re almost there, they’re all waiting for us,” you filled him in.

As the front of the jet ski neared the group, Topper leaned over the side of the dock to pull you the rest of the way in. 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, where have you been, are you crazy?!” Carter paced the dock, a wild look in her eyes as she scolded you.

“I’m fine!” You assured her. “We just ran out of gas.”

“We?” She questioned, hands on her hips.

Once Topper had secured the jet ski to the dock, Rafe swam around to the side, revealing himself to the group.

“What the hell? Where’s Kelce?” Carter questioned.

You knew she must really be upset. When she went into worried-mom-mode, her already limited inclination for politeness went completely out the window.

“Can someone help him up please?” You corrected her. “And get him a blanket or something?”

“I’ve got a couple in my trunk!” Topper said, before running to the marina parking lot.

“I’m fine,” Rafe calmed you with a soft smile as he lifted himself onto the back of the jet ski.

Before he could climb onto the dock, fully planning to help you up next, Tom reached out his hand to you.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked. You could feel Rafe’s posture stiffen next to you.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You accepted his hand, only due to the fact that you actually did need help with the big step off the jet ski.

The moment your feet were steady on the dock, you pulled your hand from his and turned back to make sure Rafe made it onto solid ground. When he did, you made your way to Carter’s side, pulling her into a hug.

“I thought something happened…” she mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you soothed her. “Rafe saved me.”

She pulled back from you, sniffling as she eyed him over your shoulder.

“Thank you,” she told him quietly.

“I didn’t do a great job,” he said shakily, looking down at your leg. “You’re still bleeding.”

“You’re bleeding?!” Carter turned you around, inspecting you for injury.

You laughed as she spun you frantically, “it’s just a little cut on my leg.”

She leaned down to inspect it further, eyebrows knit with concern. “I told Topper we should’ve called 911.”

You placed both hands on her shoulders, “Car, I’m fine. It’s just a scrape, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’m sorry we scared you, though.”

“You did,” she pouted.

Topper came running back, huffing from his hurry. 

“I could only find one,” he extended the blanket in his hands to Rafe, who obviously needed it more.

Rafe took the blanket from him and opened it up quickly, but instead of dragging it over his own shoulders, he wrapped it around you.

“You should take it,” you tried to stop him.

“Nah,” he waved you off, running his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. “We need to get you dry before Carter calls the Coast Guard.”

For a full ten seconds, your group stood in the rain, everyone’s eyes on someone else, the tension in the air telling an entire story to some invisible audience.

Carter looked at you, concern wrinkling her forehead as she wondered what really happened after she went to bed last night. 

Topper looked at Carter, wondering if her investment in your love life meant she’d forgotten all about the intimate hug they’d shared on the dock waiting for you to return.

Tom looked at Rafe, wondering if it was this joker’s fault you’d rejected him the night before and feeling the hot flame of competition ignite in his chest.

Sabrina looked at Tom, wondering when boys had started looking at you like that and how to get him to look at her instead.

Rafe looked down at you, and you looked up at him, both wondering if the other was thinking the same thing: there’s so much more to say.

“Ahem,” the jet ski owner cleared his throat, pulling you all from your thoughts. “Need the keys back if you don’t mind.”

Carter handed him the first two keys, and Rafe fumbled in his pocket for yours.

“You should really be checking the gas tank before you just send people out there,” Rafe snapped at him, tossing him the key. “You sent her out with an empty tank, she could’ve been seriously screwed, man. No way to run a business.”

“Maybe you should teach your girl how to drive so she doesn’t drain the tank,” the guy snapped back. “Not my fault she’s a ditz.”

Rafe stepped toward him in one long stride, chest puffed out and tension brewing in his flexed jaw that ran all the way down his neck.

“The fuck did you just say?” Rafe grabbed him by his collar, pulling the guy up towards him as he glared at him. 

You looked helplessly to Topper, who hurried to pull Rafe’s hand off the guy’s shirt. Topper was an expert at intervening before Rafe did things he couldn’t undo, and you were grateful he was here. Still, there was a small part of you that selfishly wanted to know what he’d do next, how far he’d go to defend your honor.

“Okay, okay,” Topper said. “Let’s just go, bro. It’s over.”

Rafe fought against Topper’s pull for a moment, staring daggers at the jet ski guy, who was chuckling smugly. When the guy’s eyes darted to you, he pulled his arm from Topper’s grip and made to move towards him again.

“Rafe,” you said softly.

His head turned to you, and the tension in his shoulders loosened. You shook your head ever so slightly, eyes urging him to back down. He nodded once and his hands, which had been balled into fists, flexed open as he let his anger go.

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As soon as you made it back to the house, you peeled your wet bathing suit off and climbed in the shower, eager to get your weary body into the warm water and let the sea wash down the drain. Carter had announced plans on the car ride back from the marina to go out to some clubs this evening, and you were far from dance floor ready.

For just a moment, the hot water felt incredible, until it made its way to your cut. You yelped and stepped out of the hot stream quickly. 

Typically, you would’ve thought responsibly enough to cover the cut before getting in the shower, but your mind was too foggy with thoughts of Rafe. You pulled on some clothes and padded down the hall to Carter’s room.

The knock on the door sparked a flurry of commotion behind it. Hushed voices echoed from under the door frame.

“Just a second!” Carter shouted to you, voice muffled.

“Oof!” A deeper voice said, the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

Your lips twisted in a knowing smile. You didn’t need the door to swing open to know who you were hearing in the room. Carter and Topper were clearly tangled up in something before you interrupted.

Confirming your suspicion, the door swung open and Topper stood in front of you, his shirt on backwards from being pulled on in a hurry.

“Do I have the wrong room?” You smirked.

“I was just, uh, helping Carter with something,” he fumbled to explain.

“Oh? What were you helping her with?” 

“Her bed is, uh, broken.” 

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to call over his shoulder and into the room, “just wanted to see if you have any Band-Aids?” 

“No,” she responded from somewhere under the mess of blankets on her bed. “But I can come help you find some.”

“Oh no,” you said. “You stay here and work on that…broken bed.”

Topper gave you a thankful smile and you winked at him.

“Make good choices!” You called, turning from the door.

“Too late!” Carter sang back.

You checked a few of the other bathrooms before wandering to the kitchen. One hand on the counter, and the other reaching as high as it could, you tried to boost yourself up. The flex of your calf as you jumped stretched the skin around your cut, making you wince. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled to yourself. “Let’s get jet skis they said, it’ll be fun they said…”

You tried to jump again, reaching for the high cabinet, the only one in the kitchen you hadn’t checked yet. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a first aid kit around here somewhere. You jumped again, the effort still fruitless.

“Need some help?”

You turned fast, startled by the revelation that you weren’t actually alone.

Rafe was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the banister with his arms crossed. His hair was damp, clearly just out of the shower himself. You weren’t looking at his hair, though.

He was covered only by a pair of checkered boxers and the towel flung carelessly over his shoulder. His torso was long and rigid, more defined than you had first noticed on the beach the other day. The hard ridges of his abs cast shadows on the plane of his stomach, your eyes danced over them, down to the deep V that disappeared below his waistband.

“What are you looking for?” His words were casual, as if he didn’t notice you staring, but the crooked grin etched on his face told a different story.

“Band-Aids,” you told him, your voice so feeble it did nothing but further reveal your captivation with the sight of him.

The smirk and all its playfulness fell from his face as his eyes filled with concern. 

“Are you still bleeding?” 

“No, I just need to cover it so I can shower. I’m thinking I should probably get the seaweed out of my hair if we’re going out.”

“Y’know if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I’d stay back with you,” he offered.

Your eyes fell from his, shuffling your feet uncomfortably, he stumbled over his words to reassure you, “we don’t have to, like, hang out. Just if you’re tired and you’d rather stay in and read or something that’s cool. I would stay down here.”

“You don’t want to hang out with me?” You raised your eyebrows in mock offense.

You were messing with him now, you probably shouldn’t be, but watching him run circles around himself to say the right thing was too fun.

“That’s not what I- I just,” he stuttered. “Here, can you just let me help you?”

He was across the room quick, your bodies close enough to touch for the first time since the dock. He smelled like soap, and something else undefinable and sweetly nostalgic. He reached up, his long frame barely needing to stretch to reach the cabinet above you.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any in here,” he informed you, tall enough to see what you couldn’t. 

“You sure?” You didn’t know why you were questioning him, your flustered state made you defensive.

“You’re welcome to keep jumping to try and see for yourself,” he stepped back to give you space to try again. “You were so close.”

“Don’t be mean,” you smiled.

“I’m serious! It was very cute,” he dropped casually.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at him. Despite all his genuine actions today, you couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his intentions.

”What?” He questioned, sensing your hesitancy. 

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that today,” you pointed out, “It’s just kinda weird hearing you say it.”

“I mean it’s not like I’ve never called you cute before,” he reasoned.

“You haven’t,” you said definitively.

“I’m sure-“

“You haven’t. I would remember, believe me.”

You crossed your arms, hands cradling your elbows, feeling like a raw nerve. Rafe took a cautious step toward you, ducking his head slightly to draw your eyes to his, making sure you were listening when he said,

“Just because I didn’t say it doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

You instinctually stepped back, his words a little too close to a confession for your comfort. When you pulled away, the back of your leg hit the kitchen counter, making you flinch at the pain of your cut rubbing against the wood.

“I have some waterproof band aids in my room,” he mumbled, his low voice making you wonder for just a second if he really did have them or if this was just a sly way to get you to his room. Sensing your doubt, he doubled down with, “no, honest, I brought a whole first aid kit.”

Convinced, you followed him down the stairs to his basement bedroom. His bed was still pulled away from the wall, but it had seemingly dried. His belongings were strewn about, his book bag unzipped and overflowing with books and papers. You clocked the curious sight, but stayed silent, preoccupied by your sudden aloneness and his half-naked body.

Rafe dug through his suitcase for a moment until, sure enough, he pulled out a bright orange case with a little red cross on the front. You couldn’t help your smile.

“In your boy scout era?” You teased him.

“I’ve been on enough trips with Topper and Kelce to know you should always be prepared for the worst,” he chuckled.

“Ah, little did you know, I was gonna be the worst you needed to prepare for.”

“You? No, you’re the best part of this trip.”

Your throat tightened.

“Oh, really? It’s not your dungeon bedroom?” You pivoted.

“Yeah, I should probably get used to that mildew smell,” Rafe scoffed. “Gonna be living in my parents basement if I don’t pass this summer class.”

He motioned to his backpack, the mystery finally solved. He’d been doing school work down here. Summer classes, surely the answer to his not-graduating problem.

“What are you taking?” You inquired.

“Statistics. I need one more math credit and I just can’t…” he shook his head with self-loathing. “I mean, you know better than anyone. I’ve never been good at math.”

“I don’t think your problem was so much that you weren’t good,” you reasoned. “I think it was more about not applying yourself.”

“Well I’m applying myself now and I still feel like the textbook’s written in another language, so what does that mean?”

“Maybe that you just need some help,” you shrugged.

You could tell he was struggling with himself, and you were overcome with the desire to ease his worry. There are worse things a man can be than bad at math. But with Rafe, things were always all-or-nothing. One flaw meant the whole batch must be bad. 

You felt the urge to jump into tutor-mode and do the hard work for him, but you knew once you crossed that bridge into such familiar territory, there’d be no going back.

Rafe didn’t seem to share your concerns about repeating the past.

“Help from you?”

The way he leaned in when he said it would be almost imperceptible to anyone else, but you’d studied him long enough to notice even the slightest movement. You could feel the air between you tighten, like a rubber band stretching as far as it could go. You broke eye contact before it had the chance to snap.

“Or, like a tutor?” You suggested, reaching for the first aid kit in his hands. “Do they have those at Chapel Hill?”

“They do,” he stepped closer anyway, hand brushing yours as he handed it to you. “But I’d rather have you.”

You cleared your throat, ignoring his attempt to flirt. You decided not to go down this road with him, afraid it would lead to another dead end. 

He watched you dig through the kit for an appropriately sized Band-Aid, fighting the urge to ask if he’d said something wrong. Before he could, you leaned down and attempted to line up the adhesive with your cut, struggling to twist and reach the back of your leg.

“Here, let me.”

Fingers brushing yours, he took the Band-Aid and kneeled down in front of you, one leg under him, one propped up. His hand found your ankle and he guided your leg up so your foot rested on his knee. 

Clouds of foggy attraction swirled in your eyes as you looked down at him. He poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on unwrapping the Band-Aid. You zeroed in on his fingers, long and slender, leading to vein rippled hands that worked diligently to ease your pain. It was enough to knock someone over, but you weren’t going anywhere with his strong thigh holding you up. 

“Since when are you such a gentleman?” You quipped, your decision not to flirt with him thrown out the window at the sight of him on his knees in front of you.

He smiled that satisfied, crooked grin as he gently placed the Band-Aid over your healing cut, “I’m trying.”

He brushed over the edge of the Band-Aid, smoothing it into place with a firm swipe of his thumb. You dreaded the moment he would stand again. As if he could read your mind, he delayed it, his hand lingering on your calf. 

Completely breathless, you watched him consider his next move. For a moment, you thought he was going to let his hand continue to run up your leg, but he stopped himself, bringing it back to your ankle and returning your foot to the ground.

When he stood and looked down at you, he was surprised by the pout of your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “You just looked so cute down there.”

Rafe rolled his eyes playfully.

“Thought you didn’t like that word.”

“I don’t remember saying that,” you countered.

“You just don’t like it when I call you cute, then?” 

There it was again, evidence of his genuine desire to understand you. The rubber band tightened again, but this time, it was in your stomach, his sincerity drawing you to him helplessly.

“There’s just so many better things you could call me,” you flirted.

“Yeah?” Excitement coursed through you at his breathy tone. “Like what?”

“My name would be a good start.”

Voice still low, so deep you could feel it more than hear it, he uttered your name. It rolled off his tongue, smooth like honey dripping from his parted lips. The syllables came out with the faintest breath, brushing over your face as the sound swept over you.

Lip tucked between your teeth, you looked at his mouth, as though you could will more soothing sounds to fall from it. As you stared, his lips got closer to you, close enough to touch yours-

“Yo Rafe!”

The sound of Topper’s voice from the top of the stairs startled you so much, you knocked into his bedside table.

“What?” Rafe barked in the direction of Topper’s voice, his harsh, irritated tone in such stark contrast with the sweet way he’d just spoken to you.

“Just letting you know we’re leaving in like an hour,” Topper said.

“Okay?” Rafe snipped.

Topper grumbled something along the lines of “so fucking testy today” as he closed the door, none the wiser to your presence in the basement.

Rafe turned to you, eyes searching your face for a sign he could recover the moment that was so abruptly interrupted. You didn’t meet his eyes. A nervous, pink blush kissed the tips of your cheeks and washed down your chest. The thought of Topper seeing what you were almost doing brought you crashing back to reality. Twice today you had almost let him kiss you, the steel backbone you’d come into this trip with feeling more like glass with every second you spent with him.

“I should probably go start getting ready then,” you said, making your way toward the stairs.

“Right, yeah,” he agreed, defeated.

“Thanks for the Band-Aid.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Anything.”

He stood at the bottom of the stairs as you climbed them. When you reached the door, you opened it just a crack, peeking out of it with paranoid eyes, making sure no one saw you sneak out of his room.

Regret hit him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t even be mad that you were so desperate not to be seen in close quarters with him, because it was exactly the look he’d have on his face when he used to climb out of your car in the school parking lot.

This must be how you felt. He wished for a time machine so he could knock out his teenage self the way he almost knocked out the guy on the dock today. Anyone who made you feel as shitty as he did right now deserved it.

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Finally able to take a painless shower, you took your time under the hot stream of water. Carter sat on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to her chest as you recapped the crazy day.

“I literally thought you might be dead,” she explained.

���How long were we even gone? Half an hour?” You laughed lovingly at her dramatics.

“Are you serious?” 

“What, was it more?” You thought over the time you’d spent with Rafe on the water, in your mind it had flown by fast. Too fast. 

“We got back to the dock a full two hours before you showed up on your Rafe-drawn carriage,” she informed you.

You laughed heartily at the image, your cheeks tinting pink, though you told yourself the flush was just from the hot water.

“What did you guys do out there for two hours anyway?” She asked, not a fan of how silent you’d gone at the mention of Rafe’s name. 

“We just talked,” you said. 

It wasn’t a lie, but it felt like an incomplete truth.

“About?” She pried.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “just, like, life and stuff.”

She snorted skeptically.

“What?”

“I just can’t picture Rafe Cameron having any kind of deep thoughts about life is all,” she explained.

“Well, he’s different now, I guess,” you said feebly.

“Is he though?”

That silenced you. She had a fair point, you had only been talking to Rafe again for a few days, and most of that time was spent with him asking questions about you. You didn’t know him at all really, at least not as well as you used to, not enough to make judgment calls on his character.

Yet there was this instinct that had never really gone away. An invisible tether that connected you to him in a way you’d never experienced with anyone else. He was your sixth sense, you just knew him. You always had.

“I’m gonna go grab my makeup bag,” Carter exited the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A few moments later, she reentered the room. You felt the words deep in your chest, and even though you knew she may not like them, you needed to let them out.

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Rafe meandered upstairs, looking for Topper’s room so he could borrow a shirt. He hadn’t really packed any going out outfits, picturing himself planted on the beach the whole week. The day he packed felt like a lifetime ago, he had no idea the rollercoaster this trip would turn into. 

Down the hall, the bathroom door was open a crack, steam pouring from it as someone showered. Surely, whoever was in there didn’t intend to leave it open. He made his way towards the door to close it, but stopped short when he heard your familiar voice coming from the shower. He knew he should close the door and walk away, but your words glued him in place.

“I have to be honest with you,” you said. “I know I should hate him, but I don’t. I don’t think I’ll ever hate him.”

Rafe’s heart raced, an optimistic smile spreading across his face. He prayed that he was the ‘him’ you were referring to.

“The sad thing is, if he asked me to, I’d still give him anything he wanted,” you chuckled, surprised by your own words. “If he wanted me, I think I’d be with him.”

He’d never do it, but he seriously considered barging right into your shower and telling you “I want you, you have no idea how badly I want you.” 

But the fantasy was cut short.

“I think I’d hate myself the whole time, though,” you confessed quietly.

At that, he actually did close the door, heart sinking, wishing he could dissolve into the floor.

His whole life, people found it hard to love him. They may not say it to his face, but he picked up on more than people thought. He exhausted his family, his irresponsibility and impulsivity were a pain to them since he was a kid. He disappointed his father, he knew he wasn’t the heir to the Cameron throne Ward had hoped for. And he’d fumbled you completely, the best friend he ever had. 

Since then, everything he did was out of self-protection. He ghosted girls at school before they got the chance to reject him, he didn’t reply to texts from friends for fear of being ignored first. He picked fights and pushed people away, running from rejection like a monster in the dark.

But this week, for just a moment, he thought maybe he could finally stop running. He thought maybe he’d finally found something that was worth the risk. He had never felt so safe, so seen, as he did today when you were talking to him. 

Then your words shook him from his delusions. He could handle his family’s disappointment and his friends’ exasperation. But your resentment? Knowing that being with him made you hate yourself? He just could not afford it. He wouldn’t survive it.

Closing the bathroom door had a finality to it, the click of the handle a sign of a decision made. He would stop pursuing you. He’d get through this trip, graduate school, and finally move on. If not for his sake, for yours. He was bad for you. You knew it, Carter knew it, he knew it. For your sake and his, he decided to let you go.

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The Ubers arrived around nine. The boys were showered, dressed, and ready by 8:30, chilling on the couch watching baseball and drinking their pregame beers. Topper kept an eye on his phone, watching the little cars get closer to the house.

“Ride’s almost here and they’re really not ready,” Topper sighed.

“Did you really expect anything else?” Kelce threw back another beer.

“Wanna take it easy tonight, man?” Rafe recommended, no one needed a reminder of the damage Hurricane Kelce had caused the last time he was shitfaced.

“No, actually, I don’t,” Kelce laughed.

Rafe reached across the couch, Topper ducking out of the way of his swift arm as he snatched the beer from Kelce’s hand.

“I’m getting you some water,” Rafe said. “I’m not babysitting your drunk ass all night.”

Rafe stood over the kitchen sink, filling a glass for Kelce. The water rose over the cup’s edge and overflowed onto his hands, but he didn’t even notice. He was lost in thought, thinking about your cry after falling off the jet ski, your lip pulled between your teeth when he almost kissed you, your words in the shower…

“Thirsty?” He heard you say behind him. 

He turned to look at you, nearly dropping the glass.

Rafe was resolved. He couldn’t risk the sting of your rejection, and he couldn’t afford the price of your resentment. There would be no more chasing you, no moves made, no plays attempted. It was settled, he was done.

Then he saw you in that fucking dress. 

(Chapter 6: part two)

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a/n: oops another two part chapter cause the word count got away from me againnnn :) will try my best to post pt 2 this weekend!

and if I wrote a bonus blurb about what happened in Carter’s bedroom what then? A smutty little Carrot Top side quest? How would we feel about that?

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝔅𝔢 𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔄𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔡

fandom: my hero academia

relationship: class 1a x gn! reader (platonic)

summary: you don’t typically use your quirk as to not frighten people, but you wind up using it when Mineta is bothering your girl friends.

contains: mineta being a perv, y/n being terrifying yet beautiful, maybe a little rushed at the end sorry

Upon first getting your quirk at age four, you and your parents initially thought they were merely angel wings. By junior high however, you came to realize there was more to it than that, and after a few small incidents that included you inadvertently making a classmate nearly pass out, you opted to keep your power on the down low most of the time. But your quirk still needed to breathe, so to speak, so you let your first pair of wings out.

Once you reached high school and enrolled in UA, you were still hesitant to use your power to its full extent, and not just for the sake of not frightening anyone, but also because you were fairly certain that if you did, Bakugou would see it as a challenge and become bent on one-upping you. And you didn’t have the time for that.

Either way, it actually didn’t take too long for the truth to come out. From day one, your shortest classmate made a pretty solid impression as a little pervert, and it had you on your toes a lot, not just for yourself, but for your friends. You had gotten used to using your wings to create distance between Mineta and the girls, but you were getting real fed up with it real fast.

There were only a handful of scenarios wherein you deemed it necessary to go the whole nine yards, and when you spotted him trying to sneak up on Momo, Ochako, and Mina, you didn’t even think twice as you speed walked towards them, sliding your jacket off of your shoulders and tying it smoothly around your waist.

You put yourself between him and the girls, activating your quirk so quickly that a gust of wind blew through the room, making the girls jump in surprise a bit and causing Mineta to stumble and fall back and several other heads to turn in your direction.

There they saw you hovering a couple feet off the ground, all three sets of wings out and a soft halo of light surrounding your head. You had opened a few extra eyes, all glowing like the sun. But there wasn’t a trace of mercy in your gaze as you stared Mineta down. You almost didn’t hear the soft gasps of your other classmates as they stared at you in awe.

“Be afraid. Be. Very. Afraid.”

It took a moment for Mineta to snap out of his horrified state, before he quickly scrambled to his feet and booked it away from you, stuttering apologies as he scurried off. And with that, you lowered yourself to the ground and sighed, your halo fading and your extra eyes closing back up. Looking over your shoulder, you looked at your girl friends and offered them a tender smile, in complete contrast to the death stare you were wearing just seconds prior.

“Be not afraid.” you said sweetly before Mina gave you a big hug which you returned.

“(L/n), you’re the best!” she exclaimed joyously. “Thank you so much.” Momo said.

“No worries. I’ve been wanting to do that for quite a while now.” you said, mumbling at the last part. Ururaka went on about how she was sure that you would be an awesome hero some day, beloved by girls everywhere.

Midoriya was already flipping through his journal to add on to the entry he made about you and Jirou had a proud smile on her face, glad that someone was able to scare Mineta off like that. Iida was stunned, but honestly amazed by how gracefully you handled the situation, and Kaminari was simultaneously terrified and impressed as he made a mental note to never mess with you or your friends, even if he was one of them.

Kirishima’s look of shock turned into a beaming smile as he went over to compliment your quirk and how strong you were. Bakugou… wasn’t sure what to think. He was impressed, though he probably wouldn’t tell you that to your face, and maybe slightly intimidated by you upon realizing how much you must have been holding back during training and sparring. Aizawa on the other hand, made a mental note to try and explore this side of your quirk in future training.

[evilminji]

Oh god :Dc a Danny Summons Contract

No you guys DON'T UNDERSTAND-!

Just. Danny! Only Danny! He fucked up. Some ancient Warring States Ninja fucked up. They BOTH agreed to NEVER talk about it again.

Cause like? That ninja? Was a GROWN ASS MAN. A qualified BAMF of the highest order. He WAS the Danger, thank you very much. So, he? Will NEVER live down being saved by...well...

*holds up wildly struggling, noodle limbed, sad wet raccoon havin a terrible day lookin, meat thresher on legs*

THIS.

It's a BABY. Honestly, his Clan's TODDLERS know how to throw better punch. This scrawny infant baby child is both? His new son. AND an embarrassing trainwreck in motion. FFS kid, that's not how you- No! NO! Don't you DARE bite that opponent! You don't know where they've B-!

Kid they could have BEEN POISONED!!! Spit um OUT! DROP UM! Drop that RIGHT NOW! What are you? A dead Inuzuka? A god forsaken Hatake!? DROP IT!!!

It...sure is An Adventure™.

One of many early "here's how you DON'T make a Summoning contract" experiments, that Clans without seal masters were attempting. He's honestly lucky HIS attempt ended with him still... you know... ALIVE. Problem, though? After bunking for like... a few months? A year? In the command center?

And you know, terrorizing the GIW into complete collapse. Parenting him through some pretty serious life changes. Somehow making Sam MORE terrifying. And a whole host of off screen ninja shenanigans? They figure out? Oh. Only way to send him HOME is to either accept or refuse a Contract.

They gotta make one.

First they head to Frostbite for a recommendation, then? Off to a reputable Ghost Lawyer they go! They have to camp in the waiting room for like... a week. But? Worth it! The contract is AMAZING. And terrifying! Protects them both. Can't be used against EITHER. And that loophole you're thinking off? Ten pages worth of point 4 script, twenty three yards down, for why it's a BAD IDEA and breaks contract~!

Neither of them can make the other do SHIT! Only fully consensual, mutually beneficial, ass kicking here! If we FEEL LIKE IT!

Ninja dad insisted. Never sign a contract with anything less then extreme paranoia, kid! Leave no "implied" or "spirit of the rules"! Loopholes are holes in your armor, with which your enemy stabs you in the back!

Danny, tearfully, sends ninja dad home.

Gross. Emotions all over his armor. If only there wasn't all this sand in his eyes, he'd definitely complain about it. *stoic ninja hug*

Danny? Become a king. One of many. An Ancient. Becomes FUCKING HUUUUUUUUGE. Like? "Aw, your city is so pwecious~☆ n smol~♡! Whats it called again? New York?" Huge. A fuckin LEVIATHAN made of void, stars, and space ice. A Winter corpse, marked by lightning, that became the night sky itself. With a crown of aurora borealis, ever shifting, like flame.

Proportional, in a way, to Summon Bosses. Just as a normal human is to a normal toad, a normal cat, a normal slug. So too, is Danny LARGER then them.

You know... when he feels like it.

The contract? Passes down. Ninja dad does warn his kin. Prooooobably not gonna answer you. He only answers ME cause I'm, well, ME.

Fuckin BET. They declare. And lose. Repeatedly.

Time marches on. The Senju and Uchiha has their Drama. Dear KAMI do they Have Their Drama. Please Stop, says everyone. They... do not. The contract? Fuckin STOLEN. Because of course it is.

It's a HUGE, glowing, death radiating Summons Contract kept in a shrine behind like... SO MANY seals. It makes anyone less then a full grown JOUNIN physically SICK to even touch! Prolonged exposure kills people! Of COURSE it gets fuckin stolen. It's obviously a super, mega, ultra rare AMAZEBALLS Summon Contract... right?

Eeeeeeeeeeeh *so-so hand motion* KINDA!

It IS technically that.

They ain't wrong. Cause Danny IS an Adult now. A King. Connected to the Zone. An ANCIENT. Beyond and Above his mortal origins, even as, by being a Halfa, he is utterly the same. That contract is as close as one could GET to having a contract with the Sage himself.

You know... if he answered you.

Felt like your petty bullshit was worth getting up off the couch for.

Not to MENTION? He can make clones! Like.... billions of them now. Has a skeleton army. Is kinda one of the stronger Ancients. But that's not the point. The POINT? Clones. Don't have to be EQUAL facets of self.

You CAN make a .00001% clone of yourself!

Behold *summons poof noise* Lil Baby Man!

The harbinger of Danny! Here to Test Your VIBEZ™. He sends them each time. To be an adorable menace. Cause problems on purpose. Be gremlins, chew on table legs, maybe. You know, the works! They RADIATE his " I Am Death." Energy. But also his "winter, protection, and starlight" vibes... if you're brave enough to LOOK.

If you don't flinch away from a spirit of the dead. Can embrace the chaotic nature of a Zone ghost. Are kind to something that isn't what you expected, that you can USE, that appears weaker then you. Something that seems dumb. Distractable. Useless in battle.

Can you be kind? Do you immediately give up? To recognize a test when you see one? Is your first impulse cruelty? Distain? It tells Danny a lot. Saves him time.

Which? Is how a young Itachi, freshly Jounin'd, gets thrown through an old and rotting wooden gate into what LOOKS like a vaguely demonic death shrine. Hmmm, concerning. Baby 'tachi has been separated from his teammates. Is having a Bad Time™. The crows can't really help much here.

And, well, that IS a Summoning contract...

He's outnumbered. Low on both weapons and Chakra. Refuses to do anything BUT return home to his family. His baby brother. Is it WISE? No. It is in fact, incredibly, incredibly UNWISE. He has no idea what he'll be agreeing too. But... so long as he live just a bit longer...

He slams an earth wall against the entrance.

Falls back to the Glowing Contract.

Stumbles, as even landing near it makes his insides revolt. His skin prickle and burn. Colder then the nine tails Chakra, emptier, yet somehow endlessly more ABSOLUTE.

It's like the very Chakra in his body screams against it. Rejects it's mere presence. As though all thing alive REFUSE it with desperation and fear. He has no time to muse upon this. It hurt his hand to touch. He does so anyway. Struggling to hold the earthwall against enemy attacks.

He doesn't bother to read the contract. Flings it from the pedestal, to unravel, so he may sign quickly. There. With a practiced motion, he nicks his finger, and scrawls his future away. Whatever demons may come. Whatever monsters this brings. Please... let him live long enough to say goodbye.

The world CRACKS as he summons.

Death and the Shinigami are not the same.

Even those without the ability to sense are battered by the tsunami of... not killing intent. No. There is no intent. No killing. Just... knowing. Heraldry. That Death comes for us all. You can not escape. Foolish and small, is this what you waste your existence on? Ants before a god. Dust before the heavens. He... he can not... breathe...

Frozen. Eyes wide. Sharigan spinning, spinning, spinning. Capturing the delicate lace of nothingness, absence of life, as it drifts by. Unable to move from where he kneels, bloody hand pressed to the ground, in a Summoning.

What Has He Done?

Outside there is panic. Screaming. They flee. He... he wishes he could flee. W...why can't he-? *THHHWAP!* Mmmmph?! Something small and almost bird shaped smacks into his face like a flung ration. Tiny arms spread wide to cling to his bangs and dangle. The deathy power fades... almost... almost as though it were... a threat display?

He focuses on the tiny creature whining and hugging his face. It... is a floating snake toddler? Or is it dragon? They have sharp little claws and stars along their face, a tiny whispy mane of white. Likely a dragon child then. They stick their small tounge out slightly, eyes the blankly trusting stare of small children everywhere.

He clearly want to be carried. Ah. Of course, little one.

Did... did he agree to raise a dragon?

Just?

Itachi, smol. Serious. With lil baby man floped on his head or tucked lovingly in his arms. The TEXTBOOK definition of "he don't bite" "YES HE DO!!!" For everyone but Itachi and Sasuke. To whom he is, of course, an INNOCENT BABY who has NEVER done anything wrong EVER. An angel! Why is everyone being so MEAN to poor innocent baby man? Boo hoo~!

It fucks up SO MANY plans.

Because Itachi. A smol child. INSISTS he is a Father now. What are you going to do? Say he can be? Why? Because he's a CHILD? Which is it? Is he a Jounin or a Dependant? An adult in the eyes of the law or a child to be protected by said law from pushing him off to war? Old enough to die, old enough to parent his dragon son!

And SORRY Father, he CANT join Anbu. Who would be there for his child? Ah, he should join a parenting group. *various competent parent instincts go haywire over this tiny Uchiha child in need of parenting* Danzo? For some reason his son seems to really, REALLY hate him. Better avoid him. His child doesn't know yet not to bite respected elders.

Sasuke? Gets to be an UNCLE! To a DRAGON! He takes his job very seriously.

It's the best PR the clan has ever had.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[ruggiesbiologicalfather]

What The NRC Boys Wanted To Be When They Grow Up (circa 4 years old)

Heartslabyul:

Riddle - obviously when you ask, he's going to tell you he wants to be a doctor. every christmas and birthday, he gets a doctor kit. and he likes them! but... if you ask him on a warm afternoon during his free time between the thousand things on his tiny shoulders... he'll tell you he wants to be a painter

Ace - astronaut. hands down. he 100% had those little glow in the dark star stickers on his ceiling and he didn't take them down until high school. on his fourth birthday, his parents got him an astronaut helmet and it was practically welded to his head by the time he turned five. little man yearned for the stars

Deuce - race car driver. he was born with the need to go fast. he would beg his mom to let him watch races on tv and stare with an open mouth as the drivers went around and around and around. he was a big fan of taking big cardboard boxes and running around the yard with them like they were race cars

Trey - dentist. he was an anomaly when he was little: a kid who wasn't afraid of the dentist. he loved going. as a matter of fact, he would often make his friends (mainly chenya) play dentist with him and not understand why they wouldn't let him put his pretend tools in their mouth.

Cater - he desperately wanted to be hannah montana. not like a singer or a dancer, no... hannah montana SPECIFICALLY. the wig, the microphone, everything. he had three hannah montana themed birthday parties in a row

Savanaclaw:

Leona: he could never give an answer when someone asked him what he wanted to be. he knew from a very young age that he couldn't really be whatever he wanted. not in a way that means anything. he wanted to be the king like his daddy, but it was always made clear to him that he could only dream of that. so he just played games and looked at the stars and didn't think of what he wanted to be, just who he was right then. and right then, he was the chess champion of the kingscholar bloodline

Ruggie - cowboy! honestly, he still kind of wants to be a cowboy. he wanted a horse and some cows and a big pasture - the whole nine yards. he never actually got to ride a horse, they were far too expensive, but he would still beg his mom for a cowboy hat and a pair of boots. he got them both when he turned nine and was so excited, he slept with them on. he didn't care that the hat squished his ears and the boots were a little scuffed. he wore them until the soles became more hole than rubber. he still has the hat tucked away in his closet. just in case...

Jack - classic firefighter kid. one day in preschool, a fire truck came to visit in the parking lot, and he was so shocked that he couldn't say a word. the firefighter let the kids sit in the truck and his teacher literally had to pry him out of the seat when they were done, and he cried all the way back to the classroom. the firefighters still made sure he got one of those flimsy plastic hats and a golden sticker of a badge. he thought firefighters were heroes. he still does

Octavinelle:

Azul - scientist. any kind of scientist. he wanted to have a big lab of his own where he could mix up all kinds of chemicals and just... see what happens. obviously at that age, he had very little idea of what scientists actually do but he knew it was the place for him

Jade - he managed to sneak a peek at the original karate kid movie and his life radically changed. from that moment on, he knew he was going to grow up to be a ninja. unfortunately for everyone else involved, this meant he was going to spend years coming up with elaborate plans to sneak up on and attack his brother. his parents quickly became used to the sound of loud, crashing scraps from all corners of the house. but they weren't worried. floyd could handle his own

Floyd - if you try to ask this kid what he wants to be when he grows up and he'll look you dead in the face, say "bagel" and return to his toys. whatever kid

Scarabia:

Kalim - he didn't want to be anything when he grew up, but he wanted to do everything. he didn't want to have a job. in fact, he was never actually told he could do that. instead, he wanted to experience all the joys of life. he wanted to paint and dance and sing and write poems and raise sheep and sail in the ocean and grow figs and play drums and everything

Jamil - this boy practically came out of the womb dancing. he wanted to dance every moment of every day. when there was no one around to play music or kalim was too busy to sing, he would hum little tunes to himself just to have something to move to. he wanted to be one of those dancers who performed all over the world and were applauded with showers of flower petals. he quickly learned that his dream was far from reality. but he kept tapping his toes while he worked

Pomfiore:

Vil - princess. there's no way this boy did not dream of growing up to be a princess. he was obsessed with all things gaudy and sparkly and would try on every single costume available to him. he rarely went to preschool without some sort of mismatched getup on. but his dad didn't care. you can only be this young for so long. so what if his boy wore a crown to school? no one would dare say anything about it, lest they feel the wrath of the schoenheits. vil wouldn't accept any comments that weren't compliments. snide remarks were met with an impressive eyeroll and a flick of his sparkly cape. after all, a princess didn't care what commoners thought

Rook - garbage truck driver. his rich-ass parents were FLOORED when he said this the first time. "honey, don't you want to do something... bigger? like you could run the whole garbage company and make a whole lot of money!" "no! i wanna ride on the back of the truck!" no one could persuade him to dream of anything else. he is immune to your classist ideologies. viva la garbage man!

Epel - he wants to be a vet but SPECIFICALLY a horse vet. like if you mention him wanting to be a vet, he will correct you. the horses around his hometown captivated him and he wanted to be around them all the time. when he was tiny, he would weave around their legs in the pastures and give his family heart attacks. he just loved them so much and they loved him too

Ignihyde:

Idia - he saw sonic the hedgehog once and decided he was going to be dr robotnik. his parents could not decipher why, and they quickly stopped trying to

Ortho - even when he was really little, he wanted to be a teacher. he would line up all his toys and tell them about everything he was learning in preschool. sometimes, the lessons were wrong and idia would pop in to correct him. but that made him mad. he was the teacher not idia! after all, what did idia know that he didn't?

Diasomnia:

Sebek - a swordsmith. not a blacksmith who makes all sorts of things, specifically a swordsmith. he wanted to swing a great big hammer around and make huge, fancy swords. he was often shooed away from the forges and told to stop bothering the craftsmen. but he wasn't trying to bother them, he just wanted to get as close as he could and maybe they would let him hold one when they were done

Silver - he didn't have many ambitions he would admit to. he was a shy kid and didn't like feeling interrogated. but he liked to watch his father play the lyre especially when it was dark and the fire was warm and he was feeling sleepy. lilia always said when he was big enough to hold the instrument, he would teach him to play. maybe it would be fun...

Lilia - he wanted to be a witch. [i hear you saying, "but Ruggie's Biological Father, they're mages so he's already a witch" and i say to you... Wrong]. he didn't just want to cast spells. he wanted a pointy hat and a giant robe and a frog for a friend. once, his mom walked into his room to discover he had her largest cooking pot filled to the brim with no less than nine mystery substances. and it was somehow smoking...

Malleus - being a precocious little boy, he always told people he was going to be a geologist. but he didn't really know what that meant, only that it had to do with rocks which he liked. his dream job was actually wandering around and stuffing his pockets full of rocks. it became a nightly occurrence before bathtime for malleus to stand in front of the bathtub with both arms out to the side and let lilia empty all of his pockets and sleeves and boots. he would laugh loudly as the pile of random stones became a mountain at his feet. lilia would always chuckle, plunk him in the tub, and say "there, now you won't drown"

[awkward-walking-potato]

A wet mess

I love biker logan and I think that is something we can all agree on.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the yard, bathing everything in a golden light. The air was filled with the scent of fresh-cut grass and soap, mixing with the subtle smell of motor oil that always lingered around Logan's garage. You were outside, wearing a simple tank top and cut-off shorts, getting ready to wash Logan’s bike—his prized possession.

The motorcycle was a sleek, black machine, all chrome and muscle, much like the man who owned it. It sat in the driveway, covered in a thin layer of dust from his latest ride. Logan had taken off on a solo trip a few days ago, and though you were used to his need for solitude, you missed him. But now he was back, and you wanted to do something special for him—something that showed you cared.

As you filled a bucket with warm, soapy water, you could feel his eyes on you. He was leaning against the doorway of the garage, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that intense gaze that always sent shivers down your spine.

“You don’t have to do that, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and rough, carrying that unmistakable hint of a growl.

You smiled, dipping a sponge into the soapy water. “I know. But I want to. Besides, I thought you’d like to see your bike all shiny and clean.”

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes softened. “You’re spoilin’ me.”

“Maybe,” you teased, wringing out the sponge before bending down to start on the wheels. “But you deserve it.”

You started with the tires, scrubbing away the dirt and grime from the road. The cool water splashed onto your skin, sending a refreshing chill through your body as the suds ran down the black rubber. You could feel Logan’s eyes on you the whole time, his gaze lingering on the curve of your back, the way your clothes clung to you as the water splashed up. It was a small, intimate gesture—one that brought you closer to him without words.

As you moved up to the metal frame, you took your time, running the sponge over every inch of the bike. The chrome gleamed under your touch, the soapy bubbles catching the sunlight and reflecting it in a thousand little rainbows. You could feel Logan’s presence behind you, a silent, steady warmth that made you feel safe and protected.

He stepped closer, and you could feel the heat of his body, the faint scent of cigar smoke and leather that clung to him. “You look good doin’ that,” he murmured, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You glanced back at him, a playful smile on your lips. “Enjoying the view?”

Logan’s grin was all teeth, his eyes darkening with a familiar, heated look. “You know I am.”

You chuckled softly, turning back to your task, but now with a deliberate sway to your hips. You knew what you were doing—teasing him, making him watch you, knowing that it was driving him crazy. The soapy water ran over your hands, dripping down your arms as you leaned over the bike, giving him an even better view.

By the time you were done with the frame, your shirt was clinging to your skin, wet and slightly transparent. You could feel the cool air on your damp skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Logan’s gaze. You turned around to face him, holding the sponge in your hand, your hair sticking to your forehead.

“All done,” you said, your voice breathy, almost a whisper.

Logan didn’t move for a moment, just staring at you with an intensity that made your heart race. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you close. You could feel the rough texture of his fingers against your wet skin, the way his grip tightened just slightly as he looked down at you.

“You’re somethin’ else, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, the sound vibrating through your entire body.

You leaned up, pressing your body against his, your lips inches from his. “Maybe,” you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. “But you’re the one who keeps coming back.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with something deep and primal, and in the next moment, his lips were on yours. The kiss was rough and hungry, filled with all the unspoken things that had been building between you. His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as he pulled you even closer, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

You melted into him, letting the sponge fall from your hand, forgotten as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you—your bodies pressed together, the taste of him on your lips, the feel of his hands on your skin.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he looked down at you with that same, smoldering intensity.

“Let’s get you outta these wet clothes,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you.

You smiled, a teasing glint in your eyes as you looked up at him. “Only if you help.”

Logan’s grin widened, and without another word, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you inside. The bike was forgotten for now, but you knew it would be waiting for him later, shining and clean—just like you intended.

[poeticallyspiteful]

Heyy! I’m absolutely obsessed with anything Charlie Weasley atm and when I saw that you were taking requests I knew had to ask for him! I’ll give you creative freedom but pls Charlie! Thank you so so so so much!❤️

reflecting light

charlie weasley x reader

angst / fluff?

cw: mentions of war and death, charlie threatens someone, minimally proof-read

summary: the war has destroyed everything—you could use some light.

notes: i love gilmore girls and wanted to write something more poetic sounding so here it is, thank you so much for the request and i hope you enjoy this piece <33

now that I've worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

bill and fleurs wedding was beautiful. it was a bit solemn—melancholy, some might say— given the less than optimal circumstances surrounding it. but for one night, all those in attendance got to play pretend. act as though their lives were not in danger and like a war was not raging all around them.

but as much as you loved your friends, you were having a hard time pretending. the night itself was beautiful. the moon shown down, gorgeous and waning, and made the whole tent look as if it were glowing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to glow with it.

you sat at your table, sipping your champagne, looking around at the guests. having known the weasley’s since you were eleven years old, it was hardly the first time you’d met most of these people, but you couldn’t help but worry that this would be the last.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

“hey,” tonks said, snapping you out of that dark place with a gentle hand on your knee. you returned her warm smile as best as you could. “don’t get in your head now. everything’s alright.”

you took a shakey breath and nodded, and took a larger gulp of your champagne to wash those horrid thoughts down. “yeah, yeah of course.”

tonks smiled sadly, standing up and making her way back over to her parents. you looked down to your dress and swore it looked right back, dauntingly pretty. you wanted to tell it to stop, to be dull and sad just like everything else.

i rode the pain down

got off and looked up

looked into your eyes

you felt someone approaching you, and kept your head down, hoping the stranger would go away. however, the presence paused just behind you, looming over you like an umbrella from the rain.

“you haven’t danced.”

you turned around, chest suddenly feeling a tad bit lighter than it had before; charlie stood over you, clever smile on his lips. his already crooked tie had gone loosened but he still look as stunning as ever.

“everything seems far too pretty for the world right now,” you stated, tossing back the last of your champagne. “i just wanna sink into the ground and stay there forever.”

charlie’s jaw ticked and he stuck out his hand expectantly, eyes never leaving your face. “alright then, darling, but only if you dance with me first.”

the lost open windows

all around

my dark heart lit up the skies

suddenly the world around you felt gentle, like everything had melted away except for you and him. it felt as if the people around you had shifted into simple silhouettes and quiet murmurs when you took his hand.

he led you across the yard, and through your slippers, you felt bump and imperfection in the grass that you’d passed over every summer at the burrow. the very same spots you’d laid with him, staring at the stars.

the spot where you’d held him as he cried after his parents had reacted poorly to the job offer in romania— the spot where he asked you to go with him, and the spot where you’d agreed.

now that I've worn out

i've worn out the world

i'm on my knees in fascination

charlie brought you to a halt, carefully turning you to face him and once again, you only saw him. only smelled him, the strong scent of cedar and cinnamon on his skin. you only felt him as he pulled you closer by the waist.

slowly, you started swaying, soft and slow. awkwardly, at first, as you found your footing, but soon enough, it felt like you were floating. the sight, smell, and the feel of him consumed you— wrapped you up in massive, feathered wings and lifted you off the ground.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady. everything felt slow, like each step took a century, or more like you were not even stepping at all. thoughts of blood and bruises were washed away with a rushing wave of nothing and everything all at once.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i'm reflecting light

the dark, weightless fabric of your dress seemed to glow under the moon the way the sky does when illuminated by stars. you felt charlie rest his chin a top your head, softly humming to the tune of the music.

you remembered the day you first met him, during your first year at hogwarts. you’d stumbled onto the train late, and the first compartment you found held a small, red headed boy and his older brother.

give up the ground

under your feet

hold on to nothing for good

your shoe laces were untied, your jeans were too big in some places and too tight in others, and your suitcase was bursting at the seams; you were the image of an awkward eleven year old.

as you struggled onto the train, face hot with embarrassment from being undoubtedly the last one to climb on, your eyes searched for an empty seat. the first ten or so compartments were full, and you were starting to get nervous— what if you couldn’t find a seat? you could feel the eyes on you and swore you heard some snickers leaking through the sliding doors. oh god, everyone was judging you, weren’t they? what a great start to your year.

finally, about five more compartments down, two carrot top heads caught your eye. ‘thank the gods’, you thought, ‘my saviors’. before you knew it, you were yanking the door open and two sets of emerald green eyes were staring back at you.

“is this seat taken?”

the younger boy smiled back at you. “nope.”

turn and run at the mean dogs

chasing you

stand-alone and misunderstood

“hey!”

you kept your head down, holding your books close to your chest— you’d left the greenhouse a little later than intended, and were praying you wouldn’t run into anyone.

you weren’t that lucky though.

“hey!” the ravenclaw boy—peter, you thought his name was—shouted again.

against your better judgment, you turned around, coming eye to mouth with crooked yellow teeth and rancid breath. fuck, you really should not have helped charlie pull that prank on him last year.

“listen, mudblood,” peter seethed. “you better—”

you barely peeked the top of a red mess of hair before peter was yanked back by his collar and all but shoved to the ground.

“fuck off.”

peter scoffed. “you think you scare me?”

charlie’s jaw clenched. “did you not here me? leave her alone, or i swear, i will hang you by the ankles in the middle of the great hall as a charms exercise for the first years. got that?”

“alright, alright!” peter squeaked, stumbling to his feet and limping away and cursing under his breath.

as charlie turned back to you, you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest. he smiled down at you, his cheeks rosy— from the cold or your proximity, neither of you were sure.

“great timing,” you giggled as he hooked his arm through yours, starting back to the castle. “how’d you know i was in trouble?”

charlie shrugged. “i always know when you need me.”

now that i’ve worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

but you weren't kids anymore. dumbledore was dead, a war was raging, and as much as you wanted to deny it, nobody was safe.

"i'm scared," you whispered, head still resting on charlie's chest.

charlie kept his chin atop your head. "i know."

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

[aeralux]

"I'd Rather Be With You (Too)" - Lucerys Velaryon

Modern!Lucerys Velaryon x Reader (part one here)

Summary: "People have a way of leaving. Best to not let anyone close." This is the saying Lucerys lived his whole life by. Keeping others at a distance even if it hurts both him and others. Why should you be the exception? It seems you might be the exception.

Warnings: SMUT 18+; sad boy Lucerys; oral (f! receiving); fingering; soft sex; angst; creampie; fluff; blowjob; a certain blonde getting knocked out; smoking

Words: 15k

Notes: No description of the reader. It came out long but it's literally full of them interacting idk (again). I am not responsible for the media you consume. 7k words of angst and Lucerys finally expressing himself, then 8k words of smut. Enjoy

Lucerys stood at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the sea, his hood pulled up against the misty rain. The salty breeze whipped at his cheeks as he stared at the horizon, watching the sun slowly rise over the watery expanse. His heart felt heavy in his chest, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical burden.

He knew leaving you had been selfish, but he couldn't bear the thought of watching you walk away eventually. It was better to cut ties before he lost himself entirely in the depths of his growing feelings for you.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a golden glow across the waves, Lucerys turned away from the sea. He walked slowly back towards home, his footsteps heavy and leaden. He knew he'd have to face you eventually, to explain himself.

But for now, he couldn't bring himself to go back, to see the confusion and hurt that would surely be etched across your lovely face.

There was Jacaerys, already out, pushing the lawnmower back and forth across the thick green grass. The family dogs raced around the yard, barking loudly as if they were excited for the day ahead. Jacaerys caught a glimpse of his brother from the corner of his eye. At first, a scowl formed on his face, but it quickly transformed into a look of concern when he noticed the troubled expression on his younger brother's face.

"Hey man, what happened? Where were you all night? Mum was worried sick," he asked, stepping forward and placing his hands gently on Lucerys’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. Although he was older, Lucerys had already grown taller, which made the interaction feel a little awkward.

Lucerys let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the night still resting on his shoulders. He didn’t want to dive into the details, especially not about the person who had been on his mind for hours. 

"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to brush past Jacaerys, but his brother’s raised eyebrow made him pause. Jacaerys didn’t press any further. There was something in Lucerys' eyes that told him there was more to the story, but he chose to let his younger brother have his space for now.

For days, Lucerys had been distant and withdrawn, as if a fog had settled over him. His family noticed the change, exchanging worried glances when he entered a room. His friends, usually able to draw him out, were puzzled by his silence. This new quietness felt different, heavier. He barely even spoke to his brothers, whose playful banter now seemed to echo off a wall he had built around himself, leaving everyone uneasy.

You had spent countless days searching for him, but it felt like he had completely disappeared after that stormy night, leaving you trapped in heavy silence. You felt isolated and abandoned. Glorina had noticed the change in you. She worried as she watched you eat less and spend all day cooped up inside, only to venture out to the docks at night, searching for someone who might never return.

You barely spoke to her, and each day that passed filled you with guilt, but the truth was that Lucerys had shattered something deep inside you. You needed him to come back and mend what was broken.

How could he have looked at you with such warmth? How could he have held you so closely, with a tenderness that made you believe everything would be alright? And then, just like that, he vanished, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and a growing emptiness. You felt a desperate need for him to explain, to heal your wound.

After wandering through the small town again, your heart felt heavy with each step. The familiar streets now seemed foreign and blank. But then, in the distance, you spotted a figure—brown curly hair peeking out from beneath a dark hoodie. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest as you hurried towards him. “Lucerys,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper as you got close enough for him to hear.

But as you reached him, your heart sank. Instead of Lucerys, it was his older brother standing there, wearing an unamused expression that only deepened your sense of disappointment.

You stood frozen, your breath catching in your throat as Jacaerys turned to face you. His expression softened slightly when he registered the look on your face—a mix of desperation and heartbreak you couldn’t hide.

“You’re looking for Lucerys,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Do you know where he is?”

Jacaerys sighed, shaking his head as if he were deciding how much to tell you. “Look, he’s been… different lately. Distant.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You have something to do with that, don’t you?”

His question wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t kind, either. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Jacaerys frowned, stepping closer. “Listen,” he said, his voice lower now, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but Lucerys doesn’t need this right now. He’s got enough to deal with without… whatever this is.”

You felt your frustration rise, the sting of his words hitting harder than you expected. “Whatever this is?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “I care about him. I just want to talk to him—”

“To do what?” Jacaerys interrupted, his tone sharp. “To pull him in deeper? To make him care about you even more before you leave town and break his heart?”

His words struck a nerve, and you flinched, the truth you’d been avoiding suddenly laid bare. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacaerys’s gaze softened slightly, but his expression remained firm. “Then do him a favour and leave him alone.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. But before you could respond, the sound of a door slamming open behind Jacaerys cut through the tension like a knife.

“Jace!” Lucerys’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your heart lurched as Lucerys stepped outside, his green eyes blazing with fury as they flicked between you and his brother. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept, but the fire in his expression was undeniable.

Jacaerys turned to face his younger brother, his stance shifting to match Lucerys’s intensity. “I’m trying to protect you, Luke,” he said evenly.

Lucerys scoffed, stepping closer. “By what? Telling her to leave? Acting like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“She’s going to hurt you, Lucerys,” Jacaerys shot back, his voice rising.

“I’m not a child anymore!” Lucerys shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I can make my own decisions. And if I get hurt, that’s my problem—not yours!”

The rawness in his voice made your chest tighten, and you took a hesitant step forward. “Lucerys—”

He turned to you, his expression softening for just a moment before the walls went back up. “Why are you here?” he asked, his voice quieter but still tense.

“Because I needed to see you,” you said honestly, your voice trembling. “I needed to understand why you left. Why you just… disappeared.”

Lucerys ran a hand through his curls, his frustration evident. “I—” he started, then stopped, his gaze darting to Jacaerys as if trying to decide how much he could say with his brother standing there.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine,” he muttered. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

He brushed past Lucerys, throwing you a pointed look before disappearing back into the house.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of waves and the faint barking of dogs from the backyard.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” Lucerys said finally, his voice barely audible. “I just… I couldn’t stay.”

You stepped closer, your hands trembling as you reached for him. “Why not?”

“Because you make me lose control,” he admitted, his green eyes locking onto yours. “And I can’t afford that. I can’t—” He broke off, shaking his head as if trying to push the words away.

“You can’t afford to feel something real?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Because that’s what this is, Lucerys. It’s real.”

He stared at you, his jaw tightening as he fought against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Real doesn’t mean it won’t fall apart,” he said bitterly. “It doesn’t mean you’ll stay.”

“Then let me decide that,” you said, stepping closer until there was almost no space between you. “Stop pushing me away because you’re scared.”

Lucerys closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything he’d been carrying had finally become too much. “I don’t know how to stop,” he whispered.

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache, and you reached out, your hand brushing lightly against his. “Then let me help you,” you said softly. “We can figure it out together.”

Lucerys opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the walls crumble—the fear, the longing, and the fragile hope he’d been trying so hard to hide.

But just as quickly, he pulled away, taking a step back. “I don’t know if I can,” he said quietly.

You watched him retreat, your heart breaking all over again as the distance between you grew.

Lucerys stood still, his green eyes flickering with a mix of fear and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind them, the turmoil he was trying so hard to keep contained.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp. He took a step back, putting more space between you, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Your heart clenched, but you refused to let him shut you out. “Why not? What are you so afraid of, Lucerys?”

His laugh was bitter, almost a scoff. “You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t know who I am—who my family is.”

“I know enough,” you shot back, your voice trembling. “I know you’re kind. I know you care more than you want people to believe. I know you—”

“You don’t!” he interrupted, his voice rising. His expression twisted into something close to anguish. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a Velaryon in this town. People see us, and they see trouble. They see a family of screw-ups who can’t do anything right.”

“I don’t see that,” you said firmly, your own voice cracking with the weight of your emotions.

“Maybe not now,” he said bitterly. “But you will. Everyone does.”

You stared at him, your chest aching with frustration and hurt. “Why do you care so much about what other people think? You’re not them, Lucerys.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting away from yours. “It’s not just what they think. It’s what’s true.” He paused, his hands clenching tighter. “Jace and I—we’ve done things. We’ve had to. My friends… they’re not exactly saints. You don’t belong anywhere near us.”

“Is this about your friends?” you asked, stepping closer despite the tension radiating from him. “Or is this about you?”

Lucerys flinched, your words hitting deeper than you’d expected. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading “They’re into things—illegal things. And I’m not—” He stopped, running a hand through his curls. “I’m not perfect either, okay? I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”

“And you think that makes you unworthy?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. “You think that makes you less deserving of someone who cares about you?”

Lucerys didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped to the ground.

“I don’t care about the mistakes you’ve made,” you continued, stepping closer. “I care about you. The you who’s standing right here, right now. The you who’s scared to let someone in because you’ve been hurt before.”

“That’s not the only reason,” he muttered, his voice so low you almost missed it.

“Then tell me the real reason,” you pressed, desperation creeping into your tone. “Stop hiding behind your family and your friends and your reputation. Tell me what you’re so scared of, Lucerys.”

He finally looked up, his green eyes blazing with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m scared of harming you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m scared that if you get too close, I’ll ruin you the way I ruin everything else.”

The raw honesty in his voice left you breathless. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.

“You won’t ruin me,” you said softly, stepping closer until you were just a breath away. “You’re not the monster you think you are, Lucerys. You’re just… scared. And I get that. But you don’t have to push me away because of it.”

Lucerys stared at you, his expression a mix of longing and despair. “You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said quietly. “You think you can just fix me, but you can’t. I’m not some… broken thing you can put back together.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you said firmly, your voice trembling. “I just want to be here for you. If you let me.”

He looked away again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his own thoughts. “And when you realise I’m not worth it?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his. “Then I’ll let you be the one to decide that,” you said softly.

Lucerys let out a shaky breath, his green eyes searching yours. For a moment, it seemed like he might let you in.

But then he shook his head, stepping back once more. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to let someone in without losing everything.”

The anguish in his voice brought tears to your eyes, but you refused to look away. “Then let me show you how,” you said, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “Let me prove that you don’t have to lose everything to have something real.”

Lucerys didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the ground. But this time, he didn’t take another step back. He stayed rooted in place, the cracks in his defences growing wider with every passing second.

And though the storm between you hadn’t yet passed, you could feel the first rays of hope breaking through the clouds.

"C'mon," Luke said, nodding towards the road, and you followed him, away from his house. He reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, the familiar red and white packaging crinkling slightly in his hand. "Smoke?" he offered, a hint of a smile on his face.

You didn't really smoke—not regularly, anyway—but something about the moment made you want to connect with him. "Sure," you replied, hoping it didn’t sound too eager. 

Without hesitation, he flicked the lighter, the flame dancing briefly before catching the tip of your cigarette. He watched as you took your first drag, his gaze lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes.

As you exhaled, the smoke curled between you, a shared breath of something unspoken. "Sorry," you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He shook his head, leaning back against the cool wall of the corner store, a casual stance that made him seem more relaxed, even charming.

"Is Jacaerys right?"

You paused...

"Yeah... I am leaving at the end of the summer..." You trailed off, inhaling the smoke again as a soft breeze ruffled your hair, carrying the scent of the city mixed with a hint of your own nervousness.

Lucerys’s relaxed posture stiffened slightly at your words. He glanced away, his jaw tightening as he took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dim light. When he exhaled, the smoke curled around him, hazy and uncertain, much like the emotions swirling between you.

“So that’s it, then,” he said, his voice low but edged with bitterness. “You’re just gonna leave. Like everyone else.”

His words hit you harder than you’d expected. You blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “Lucerys, it’s not like that,” you said quickly, your voice trembling.

“Isn’t it?” He turned to face you fully, his green eyes blazing with something raw and unfiltered. “You say it’s not, but that’s exactly what’s happening, isn’t it? You’ll leave, and I’ll still be here, stuck in this place.”

“That doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real,” you said, your voice cracking under the weight of his accusation. “Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “That’s what they all say,” he muttered. “They all say they care, that it’s real. And then they leave. Every damn time.”

“I’m not them!” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “I’m not your dad, or your friends, or whoever else left you behind. I’m here now, Lucerys.”

“Yeah, now,” he snapped, his voice rising. “But not later. Not when it matters.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, the tension thick enough to cut. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear he was trying so hard to mask with anger.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to be another person who lets you down. But I don’t know how to change what’s happening. I can’t just… stay.”

“Then don’t pretend this means anything,” he said harshly, his voice breaking at the edges.

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than he probably intended. “It does mean something,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “It means everything to me.”

Lucerys looked at you then, his green eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. For a moment, the fire in his gaze softened, replaced by something far more fragile.

“But you’re still leaving,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “I don’t want to. But I don’t have a choice.”

He let out a shaky breath, raking a hand through his curls. “There’s always a choice,” he murmured, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.

The silence between you was deafening, the words you both wanted to say hanging in the air, unspoken. Finally, Lucerys turned away, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his emotions.

“Go ahead and say it,” he muttered, his voice bitter but hollow. “Say 'you’ll miss me'. Say 'you’ll never forget me'. It doesn’t matter.”

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “It does matter,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your feelings. “Lucerys, you matter to me.”

He froze under your touch, his breath hitching. For a moment, it felt like the barriers he’d built around himself might crumble entirely. But then he shook his head, stepping out of your reach.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t watch you leave. I just… I can’t.”

“Lucerys—”

“No,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but unsteady. “Just… don’t. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

"Just go ahead and leave."

And before you could say anything else, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night and leaving you standing there, your heart breaking into pieces, all over again.

Lucerys walked quickly, his boots crunching against the gravel road as he put as much distance as he could between himself and you. His chest ached, a deep, suffocating pain that refused to go away, no matter how hard he tried to push it down.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the crumpled cigarette pack. His mind raced, every word you’d said replaying in his head like a song stuck on repeat.

You matter to me.

Your voice lingered, soft and trembling, but full of conviction. It had felt like a lifeline, something he wanted to grab onto, to believe in. But the fear… the fear of losing you, of losing himself, had been stronger.

“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, his voice bitter. “So fucking stupid.”

He wanted to turn back, to find you and tell you he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want to be alone again. But his feet kept moving forward, away from you, as if they were acting on their own.

Because deep down, he knew he wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t enough to make you stay.

He wasn’t enough to deserve the way you looked at him like he was something worth saving.

Lucerys clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists inside his pockets. The anger simmered beneath the surface, not at you, but at himself—at the boy who could never seem to hold onto anything good.

When he finally stopped walking, he found himself standing at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks below, loud and unforgiving, their rhythm steady and endless.

Lucerys stared out at the horizon, his breath uneven as he tried to quiet the storm inside him. The wind whipped at his curls, and the salty spray of the sea clung to his skin, but he barely noticed.

He pulled the pack of Marlboros from his pocket, his hands trembling as he fished out a cigarette. The lighter flickered in the wind, the flame struggling to hold on before finally catching.

As he took a long drag, the burn in his chest distracted him from the ache in his heart, if only for a moment. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him and disappearing into the night air.

“This is for the best,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the roar of the waves.

If he let himself believe in you, in what you’d said, it would only make the pain worse when you left. And you would leave. Everyone always did.

It was easier this way—cutting the cord now before it could wrap around his throat and choke him.

But as the minutes stretched on, Lucerys couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your eyes had shimmered with tears, the way your voice had cracked when you’d told him he mattered.

It wasn’t fair.

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his curls as he paced along the edge of the cliff.

“Damn it,” he muttered the words barely a growl.

He dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with his boot. The frustration boiled over, his emotions spilling out as he kicked at a loose rock, sending it tumbling into the sea below.

Lucerys pressed his hands to his face, his fingers digging into his skin as he fought the urge to scream.

He hated this. Hated the way he felt, hated the way you made him feel. Like maybe, just maybe, he was worth something. But he wasn’t.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he sank to the ground, his back resting against the jagged rocks behind him.

The waves continued their relentless rhythm, drowning out the sound of his uneven breathing. Lucerys sat there, his heart heavy with regret and the unbearable weight of what could have been.

You were lost, stuck in a whirlpool of thoughts. Leaving him felt impossible, yet staying seemed even worse. This place—this wasn’t your home.

You slid down the rough wall of the store he had walked away from, feeling the cool concrete against your back. Tears seeped down your cheeks, unchecked and warm. The cigarette he had given you was only a stub now, but you still cradled it in your fingers, as if it were the last trace of him you’d ever have.

Was this it? The final moment you both shared?

Maybe dropping the bomb that you were leaving right when he was starting to accept you back was a mistake. But you didn’t want to be dishonest. It hurt more to pretend when you knew you’d eventually walk away, leaving him behind.

"You alright?" A voice knocked you from your thoughts. It wasn't the one you wanted to hear—definitely not. Looking up, you saw a guy with short blonde hair and a cashier name-tag that read Aegon. 

"No," you muttered, your tone flat and honest. You figured he wouldn’t really care either way.

"I saw that little fight of yours with your boyfriend," he said with a chuckle, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Not my boyfriend," you shot back, bitterness creeping in.

"Right, whatever. But man, that was one of the more entertaining things I’ve seen in a while," he said, lighting up his own cigarette and taking a long drag, the smoke swirling around him. He coughed lightly, then continued, seemingly unfazed.

"You should be glad he’s not your boyfriend though. Stabbed my brother's eye out when we were kids, yeah... brutal stuff." He sighed, but there was a strange twinkle of amusement in his eyes as if he found the memory funny.

You stared at him, bewildered. He didn’t notice your confusion or maybe just didn’t care as he rambled on.

"Yeah, his friends are into moving dope around the city. Not him, though. But, I mean, how long until it's up his nose too, right?" He laughed as if he’d just shared a hilarious joke rather than dropping some serious dirt about his mates. 

"Right..." you dragged the word out, looking down to focus on the ground, trying to shake off the weight of what he had just said.

"Best forget about that lad, you’re way too pretty for him anyway," he tossed over his shoulder with a wink before sauntering back inside. You were left sitting there, alone with your swirling mix of emotions and the unsettling new pieces of information. Was this what Luke was trying to keep from you?

You needed to find him.

The air felt heavier than usual as you stepped out into the early evening, the fading sunlight casting a muted golden glow over the small town. The last few days had passed in a blur—your thoughts endlessly looping back to Lucerys, the fight, and Aegon’s careless words.

You hadn’t seen Lucerys since that night. No matter how many times you’d wandered near the docks or the places he might haunt, he was always just out of reach, like a shadow you couldn’t catch. It left you hollow, the ache of missing him growing stronger with each passing day.

Tonight, though, you’d let Glorina talk you into going out. She’d called it a “gathering,” though it was clear from the noise spilling into the street that it was just a casual get-together at one of the local bars.

The bar was crowded and buzzing with laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and faint music filling the space. You hadn’t meant to stay this long, but Glorina had been insistent that you “go out and have a little fun.” And now here you were, nursing a watered-down drink and trying to navigate the polite conversation with a guy whose name you only vaguely remembered.

Aegon, you thought, watching as he leaned casually against the bar, a devil-may-care smirk plastered across his face.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “you’re too gorgeous to be sitting here looking all serious. Someone break your heart?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m fine,” you said, your tone clipped, though his boldness made it hard to hide a small, amused smile.

Aegon grinned, leaning in slightly. “That smile says otherwise. Bet I could make you forget whatever’s got you looking so lost.”

“I’m not lost,” you replied, but there was an edge of annoyance in your voice now.

From across the room, Lucerys watched the interaction like a predator tracking its prey. His green eyes narrowed, his grip on his beer glass so tight it threatened to shatter. Jacaerys and Joffrey sat beside him, trying to engage him in conversation, but Lucerys barely heard a word.

“Luke?” Jacaerys nudged his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You good?”

Lucerys didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed firmly on you and Aegon, his chest tightening as he watched the blonde lean in closer, his smirk widening with every passing second.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word, Lucerys stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. Jacaerys and the others looked up in surprise, but Lucerys was already moving, his strides purposeful and quick as he crossed the room.

You barely had time to register Lucerys’ approach before it happened. One moment, Aegon was leaning in, his hand casually brushing against yours on the bar. The next, he was stumbling backwards, Lucerys’s hand on his chest as he shoved him hard.

“What the hell?” Aegon barked, catching himself against the edge of a table.

Lucerys didn’t reply. His fist flew before you could even process what was happening, connecting with Aegon’s jaw in a sharp, brutal motion. The crack of bone echoed above the noise of the bar, and Aegon staggered, clutching his face.

“Lucerys!” you shouted, grabbing his arm to pull him back, but he was like a live wire, his whole body trembling with adrenaline and anger.

“What’s your problem, man?” Aegon spat, straightening up and wiping a smear of blood from his lip.

“You,” Lucerys growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay the hell away from her.”

Aegon laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Jealous much? Didn’t realize she was your property.”

Lucerys lunged forward again, but you stepped between them, pressing your hands against his chest. “Stop it, Lucerys!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

For a moment, Lucerys didn’t move, his green eyes locked onto Aegon’s with a searing intensity. Then, slowly, he let out a sharp breath, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“Yeah, walk away,” Aegon muttered, smirking despite the pain. “Big man with your cheap punches.”

Lucerys didn’t react, but you felt the tension radiating off him as you guided him toward the door. The bar was eerily quiet now, all eyes on the two of you as you stepped outside into the cool night air.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded once you were out of earshot, turning to face him.

Lucerys raked a hand through his curls, pacing in front of you like a caged animal. “He was all over you,” he snapped, his voice low but sharp.

“He wasn’t doing anything,” you argued, your voice rising. “He was just talking to me!”

“Talking?” Lucerys scoffed, his green eyes blazing. “That’s what you call that? I saw the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you—”

You cut him off, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you even care, Lucerys? You’re the one who keeps pushing me away!”

The words seemed to hit him like a physical blow, and he stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Because I can’t stand it,” he said finally, his voice raw and trembling. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you—to him, to anyone.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but your own anger and hurt kept you from softening entirely. “Then stop pushing me away,” you said, your voice cracking. “Stop acting like you don’t care when we both know you do!”

Lucerys looked at you, his green eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. And then, before you could say anything else, he grabbed your face and pulled you close.

Your foreheads rested together as the world around you seemed to fade away. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Then stop running,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

Lucerys closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“So am I,” you whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere, Lucerys. Not unless you push me away again.”

He let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly, as if letting go would shatter him completely.

Lucerys held you tightly, his breath uneven as his forehead rested against yours. The warmth of his body anchored you, but you could feel the storm raging inside him, the walls he was still trying so desperately to keep standing.

You couldn’t let this moment pass without saying what had been sitting heavy on your chest for days.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.

Lucerys pulled back slightly, his green eyes narrowing in confusion. “Know what?”

You hesitated, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his hoodie. “I know about your past. What you’ve done. What your friends are into.”

The shift in his posture was immediate. His body stiffened, his jaw tightening as his gaze dropped. “Who told you?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“You mentioned it briefly, but... Aegon,” you admitted quietly, watching as his expression darkened. “He didn’t say much—just enough for me to put the pieces together.”

Lucerys let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stepped back, breaking the fragile connection between you. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Bet he loved twisting the knife.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said, leaning toward him, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “You know now. So what are you still doing here?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, your voice cracking with emotion. “I care about who you are, not what you’ve done.”

Lucerys laughed again, harsher this time, the sound cutting through you like glass. “You say that now, but you don’t get it. You don’t know the things I’ve done—the people I’ve been around. My friends, the shit they’re into… that’s my world. You don’t belong in it.”

“Maybe I don’t know everything,” you admitted, stepping closer. “But I don’t care about any of that, Lucerys. I care about you.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his curls. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. You think this is some fairytale where I can just walk away from everything and be good enough for you?” He turned away, his shoulders tense. “I can’t. I’ll just destroy you like I destroy everything else.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill.

He turned back to you, his green eyes blazing with anger and anguish. “You don’t know that!” he snapped. “People like me don’t get to have happy endings.”

The line hit you like a blow, the raw pain in his voice cutting deep. But you didn’t back down.

“Good men die too,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you met his gaze. “I’d rather be with you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The words you’d just spoken hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Good men die too, I’d rather be with you.

He wanted to believe you, to let himself fall into the promise of those words, but his fear twisted into something darker. He turned away, running a hand through his curls as if trying to erase the weight of the moment.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “You think I’m just some kid with a bad temper? My family... You have no idea what my family’s like.”

You took a cautious step closer, your heart pounding in the still, eerie quiet. “Then tell me the truth, Lucerys. Stop shutting me out.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humour. “You really want the truth?” he said, his hand clenching into a tight fist, shaking with the weight of his anger. “The truth is, my mom keeps a gun in the kitchen drawer, not just for show. She doesn’t trust a soul in this town. My brothers and I learned to shoot before we learned how to ride bikes because in this town... because 'we needed to know how to defend ourselves'." He exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiff. “That’s my family. That’s the world I come from. You don’t belong anywhere near it.”

The confession left you breathless, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. You could see the fear and anger he’d been hiding spilling out in jagged fragments.

“That doesn’t scare me,” you said quietly, taking another step toward him.

He turned to face you, his green eyes blazing. “It should!” he snapped. “God, it should! You think you can just walk into my life and fix this? Fix me?”

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “I don’t think I can fix you, Lucerys. But I’m not scared of you or your family, and I’m not running away!”

He let out a sharp breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. “I don’t want you to end up like them. Bitter. Angry. Always looking over your shoulder, wondering if the people around you will stick a knife in your back.”

You hesitated, the rawness in his voice making your chest ache. “That’s not going to happen,” you said softly. “You’re not like them, Lucerys. I see the good in you, even if you can’t.”

“You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly, his voice trembling.

“No,” you replied, your voice steady. “The only thing I’d regret is walking away from you.”

Lucerys stared at you, his jaw tightening as his emotions warred within him. And then, like a dam breaking, he grabbed your face and kissed you, his hands trembling as they cradled your cheeks.

The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, his lips moving against yours like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t put into words. You melted into him, your hands clutching at his hoodie as the tension between you finally broke.

Lucerys kissed you with a fierce intensity, his trembling hands gripping your face tightly as if trying to pour every unspoken fear and desire into the desperate press of his lips against yours. The heat of his skin, the rapid pulse of his heartbeat against your chest, the shaky gasps of breath he took between kisses—it was all a testament to the turmoil raging inside him. He couldn't run from this, from you, anymore. Not when every fibre of his being screamed at him to pull you closer.

You gazed up at Lucerys, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you shook your head in amused exasperation. "You're so stupid," you sighed, your thumb brushing lightly over his kiss-swollen lip. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the slight tremble that still lingered there. "So stupid if you think you can push me away that easily."

Leaning in, you captured his lips in another kiss, this one softer, more deliberate. You savoured the taste of him, the way his mouth moved against yours with a newfound sense of desperation. Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the racing beat of his heart beneath your palms.

You poured all your own fears and hopes into the kiss, wanting him to feel the depth of your trust. You weren't going anywhere, no matter how much he might want to run. You were here, and you were choosing him.

As you pulled back, you looked into his eyes, your own shining with unshed tears and unspoken promises. "You can't scare me off, Lucerys," you whispered, your voice low and fierce.

Lucerys stared down at you, his green eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. Your words, spoken with such fierce conviction, seemed to penetrate the walls he'd built around his heart. He could feel them chipping away, could feel the cracks letting in the light of your unwavering faith in him.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheekbones. "You're crazy," he whispered, a hint of wonder in his voice. "Crazy to want to be with someone like me."

He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he tried to gather the courage to say what he needed to say. Lucerys took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands trembling as they cradled your face.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "But I know I can't let you go." He buried his face in your hair and breathed in your scent. "Stay with me," he murmured, his arms tightening around you like a lifeline. "Don't let me push you away. Please."

Your heart swelled as Lucerys's words washed over me, his raw, trembling confession striking you right in the chest. You gazed up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as a single one slid down your cheek.

"I'll stay with you," I breathed out, my voice cracking with the force of my emotion. "I know no that I can't be without you, Lucerys."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck as sobs wracked your body.

Lucerys held you tightly, his own tears flowing freely now as he felt your body shake against his. He stroked your hair, and your back, murmuring words of love and reassurance as he rocked you gently. "Shh, I've got you," he soothed, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got you, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your scent, letting it calm and centre him.

You crashed your lips against his in a fiery, desperate kiss, throwing your arms around his neck like a woman possessed. Your fingers raked through his messy curls, gripping them tightly as if you could anchor yourself to him forever. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, a messy tangle of lips and tongues and pent-up emotion.

You nipped at his bottom lip, soothing the sting with your tongue before diving back in for more. Your nails dug into the skin of his neck, no doubt leaving marks, claiming him, branding him as mine. You wanted him to feel the force of your desire. To make him believe how much you truly needed him.

Lucerys groaned as you attacked his mouth, your affection igniting a fire in his veins. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal fervour. He could feel your nails digging into his skin, leaving delicious marks of possession. It only spurred him on, urging him to claim you just as thoroughly.

When you broke the kiss, he was left panting, his eyes glazed over with lust. He rested his forehead against yours. "You're going to be the death of me." He nipped at your jaw, your neck, marking you in turn. "But what a way to go," he murmured, his lips brushing your skin.

You looked up at Lucerys through tear-streaked lashes, your heart fluttering in your chest. With a tender touch, you brushed away the tears clinging to his cheeks, your thumb lingering on his skin. A soft, shy smile played on your lips as you met his intense, love-drunk gaze.

Lucerys's breath caught in his throat at your tender touch, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He leaned into your caress, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savoured the gentle brush of your thumb against his skin. A slow, soft smile spread across his face, mirroring your own.

Opening his eyes, Lucerys gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, his purple irises shimmering with unshed tears and a love so intense it stole your breath away. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he inhaled deeply, committing your scent to memory.

"I want to show you how sorry I am," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Words have never been my strong suit, but I want to try. You wanna come to my place?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, never having done this before.

He glanced towards the bar, where the sounds of laughter and music still emanated. "I'll make sure my brothers stay out longer. Jace and Joff will be entertained at the bar for hours. And even if they do come home..." Lucerys shrugged, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Who cares. I just want to be alone with you, to show you how much you mean to me."

He held out his hand, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability. "Please, come with me."

Clinging to his side, you let your smaller hand slip into his larger, calloused one. The contrast of your hands, and your bodies, sent a thrill through you.

"Alright, I'll come with you..." you sighed, your voice soft. You pressed yourself closer, your hip against his thigh as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. "But you're sure your brothers won't come home early and interrupt our... private time?" you giggled somewhat nervously but still sounded like a siren's call to him.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he gazed down at you with a grin. "Trust me, love, they won't be back anytime soon. Jace and Joff are too busy being the life of the party to call it a night early." His thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. "Besides, I've got a few ideas to keep us umm... occupied." His voice dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes glinting with promise.

You followed Lucerys out in the crisp night air, content to walk beside him in the comfortable silence. Occasionally, you found yourself stealing glances at his handsome profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw and how his messy curls fell over his forehead.

As you walked, you let your fingers trace idle patterns on his arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath his hoodie. You were acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched - his hand holding yours, his thigh brushing against your hip with each step.

Lucerys glanced down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he caught you staring. He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope you know that." He kept walking, keeping you close to his side as he led you through the quiet streets.

Your cheeks tingled with his sweet words. "I don't mind you reminding me," you breathed out, a small, coy smile on your lips. 

Lucerys chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. "Good, because I plan to remind you often," he teased, his voice low and warm.

After a short while, you arrived at a big house, the architecture reminiscent of the past. Lucerys led you inside, closing the heavy wooden door behind you. The entryway was dimly lit, with a narrow staircase leading to the second floor. He turned to face you, his hands resting on your waist.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his green eyes darkening with an intensity that made your heart race. "Welcome to my home," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Well, technically, my family's home. But for now, it's ours." He stepped closer, one hand sliding to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "I want to take you upstairs to my room. I want to... I want to make love to you."

Your heart stopped as his words washed over you, a shiver running down your spine. He wanted to make love to you. Like he was finally letting you in, truly letting you see the real him.

You could only nod slowly. "Uhuh," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't form any other words, rendered speechless by the raw emotion in Lucerys' eyes.

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders, feeling the firmness of his muscles even through his hoodie.

Lucerys gazed down at you, his heart swelling with a love so profound it almost hurt. He could see the desire and trust shining in your eyes, filling him with awe and wonder. Slowly, gently, he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slid into your hair, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his love and longing into it. He wanted you to feel it, to understand the depth of his feelings for you.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much." He pressed another soft kiss to your lips before scooping you into his arms, carrying you bridal style up the narrow staircase. He held you close, protective and possessive, as he navigated the darkened hallways of the old house.

Stopping in front of a heavy wooden door, he kicked it open, revealing a spacious bedroom decorated in rich, cool tones. A large four-poster bed dominated the room, the sheets already turned down invitingly. Lucerys carried you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.

Your heart raced as you gazed up at Lucerys, your cheeks flushed and eyes bright with anticipation. Slowly, almost shyly, you slid your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Next went your shirt, leaving you in jeans and a black lacy bra.

You sat up on your elbows, your hair spilling over your shoulders as you looked at him. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours. Your fingers itched with the need to explore his body, to map out every inch of him.

"Your turn," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire. You tilted your head, a coy smile playing on your lips as you waited for him to bare himself to you.

Slowly, almost reverently, he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. He tossed it aside carelessly, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and warm.

He stepped closer to the bed, his hands coming to the hem of his shirt. He paused, his eyes locked with yours, before slowly, teasingly, he peeled the shirt up and off. He tossed it to the side, leaving him bare from the waist up. His chest was lean and toned, with a light dusting of hair trailing down his stomach. A thin scar ran across his collarbone, a memento from a childhood adventure gone wrong. But it only added to his rugged, masculine appeal.

Your heart fluttered as you admired him. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

Sitting up, you reached for the button of your jeans, your fingers trembling slightly as you popped it open. You looked up at Lucerys, your eyes shimmering with nerves and anticipation.

"Could you help me slide these off?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You lifted your hips slightly, a silent invitation for him to assist you.

"Of course," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, slowly tugging them down your long, shapely legs. He took his time, savouring the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips as he exposed more and more of you to his heated gaze.

As he slid your jeans off completely, he tossed them aside without a care. His hands lingered on your calves, stroking the soft skin gently before trailing back up to your thighs. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, and it only fueled his desire.

He leaned down, his face hovering inches from your newly exposed skin. He could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of your arousal, and it made his mouth water. Slowly, teasingly, he leaned in and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He could feel you tense beneath him, and he smiled against your thigh.

You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your skin flushed and tingling with anticipation. The dampness between your legs grew, your panties clinging to your folds as evidence of your increasing arousal.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "Please," you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't even realize you'd spoken aloud until you heard the desperation in your own tone. You were so wound up and ready to shatter. And all it took was a few teasing touches from Lucerys's hands and lips.

Lucerys groaned softly as he heard your breathless plea, feeling a surge of masculine pride at how desperately he was affecting you. He could smell your arousal and could feel the heat radiating off your core. It took every ounce of his restraint not to bury his face between your thighs and taste you deeply.

You squirmed beneath his teasing touch, your breathing becoming shallow and uneven. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, twisting the fabric in your fists as you fought the urge to beg him to touch you where you needed it most. You could feel your core clenching, aching for his touch, for some form of relief from the building pressure.

He continued his sensual assault, trailing kisses up your thigh until he reached the lace edge of your panties. He nuzzled against the damp fabric, breathing in your scent and feeling the heat of your sex through the thin material.

His hands slid up to your hips, gripping them gently as he looked up at you with lidded eyes. "You smell so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your panties. "I bet you taste even better."

With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clothed sex, his lips parting slightly to allow his tongue to slip out and lick a slow stripe along your slit. He could feel you twitching beneath him, could hear your gasp of pleasure. It spurred him on, and he continued to lap at you through the fabric, his tongue stroking your folds and circling your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.

He could feel you growing wetter, your juices seeping through the lace to coat his lips and chin. He groaned softly, the vibrations adding to your pleasure as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth. His hands slid around to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globes as he held you in place, preventing you from squirming away from his relentless onslaught.

You let out a choked moan, your back arching off the bed as Lucerys's tongue worked through the damp lace of your panties. Each stroke sent jolts of electricity through your veins, the fire building rapidly in your core. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast, your body responding to his teasing touches like a live wire.

"Mmm," you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his hair as you tried to grind against his mouth. But his strong hands gripping your ass held you in place, leaving you at the mercy of his relentless teasing. You could feel every lap, every circle around your aching clit, the sensation dulled by the thin barrier of your panties. Your thighs trembled, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Lucerys could feel your body trembling beneath his touch, could hear the desperation in your voice as you moaned and whimpered above him. He knew he was pleasing you and could feel your arousal coating his chin, but he was still learning, still figuring out what you liked best.

He licked and suckled at your clothed sex, his tongue pressing against your clit and circling it sloppily. He could feel it throb against his lips, could hear your breathy cries growing louder and more frequent. Emboldened, he leaned in and caught your clit between his lips, suckling on the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Suddenly, he tugged your panties to the side, exposing your dripping sex to his heated gaze. He whined at the sight, taking a moment to admire your glistening folds before diving in to taste you properly.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invasive muscle. He groaned at the taste of you, sweet and tangy. He licked and suckled at your folds, his movements slightly clumsy but eager. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell beneath his touch.

"Oh, Luke!" You cried out, your head falling back against the pillows as you felt his tongue finally make contact with your aching sex. Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut in bliss as he began to lap at your dripping folds. 

Lucerys paused, looking up at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty in his eyes. "Am I doing this right?" he asked softly, his voice rough and breathless. "Tell me what you need, love. I want to make this amazing for you." His fingers traced teasing circles on your inner thigh as he waited for your guidance, eager to please you in any way he could.

You couldn't hold back the desperate, wanton whine that tore from your throat as he broke away briefly to ask if he was pleasing you. "Mmmm, so good," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. You tangled your fingers in his hair, nestling his head against your sex as you urged him on. "You're doing so, so good. Don't stop, please don't stop." You could feel your climax building rapidly, your core clenching and fluttering around his exploring tongue.

Lucerys groaned softly, feeling your fingers tangle in his hair as you urged him on. The way you bucked your hips, seeking more of his touch, spurred him to continue his sensual assault. He could feel your climax building, could feel your sex clenching and fluttering around his tongue. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so greatly.

He kissed his way down your thighs, his lips trailing over your soft skin as he made his way to your dripping sex. Impatiently, he tugged your panties off, tossing them carelessly to the side. He wanted to taste you properly, to bury his face in your heat and lose himself in your essence.

Lucerys leaned in, running his tongue along your slit, feeling you clench and flutter around the invading muscle. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he licked and suckled at your folds. His movements were messy, sloppy even, but eager and filled with desire.

He could feel your arousal all over his lower face, could taste your sweetness on his tongue. It made him feel drunk, completely intoxicated by the taste of you. He licked and suckled at your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud as he looked up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

Lucerys let out a low, guttural moan as he continued to pleasure you, his face smudged in your juices. He could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew you were close, and he doubled his efforts, determined to make you come undone.

Your eyes rolled back, fluttering shut as you felt your climax building to a crescendo. You couldn't form any words, only incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as your body tensed and tightened. Abruptly, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming uncontrollably.

"Ahhh!" You screamed, your voice echoing off the bedroom walls as you gushed all over Lucerys's eager face. You could feel your slick arousal pouring out of you, soaking his lips and the lower half of his face completely. Your stomach muscles contracted, your back arching off the bed as you rode out the intense waves of your orgasm.

Lucerys continued to lap at you, his tongue stroking your fluttering walls as you came down from your high. You collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving and your skin flushed and glistening with sweat. "Stop! It's too...ahh! So sensitive...mm," you whimpered, thighs trembling around his face.

As your body began to relax, he slowly pulled back, looking up at you with a satisfied, almost drunk grin, his chin and cheeks glistening with your juices. "You're so pretty when you come."

He pressed a soft kiss to your sensitive sex before trailing his lips up your quivering stomach, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. He paused to press a kiss to your breast, his tongue darting out to flick over the hardened peak of your nipple, wrapping his lips around the hardening bud through the lace.

His actions made you let out a whimper and you could feel your arousal dripping onto the sheets, a wet patch appearing there. The lace of your bra began to stick to your skin, Lucerys' wet mouth all over your breast.

"Mmmh," you breathed out, your voice high and needy. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to your breast.

Lucerys whined as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to your breast. He could feel your nipple hardening under his tongue, your skin warm against his lips. He suckled gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as he gazed up at you with lust-darkened eyes.

His hand slid up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he continued to lavish attention on your chest. He could feel your heart racing beneath his palm, could hear your breath coming in soft pants and whimpers. It made him feel powerful, knowing he could affect you so deeply.

He trailed his fingers along the edge of your bra, toying with the clasp. He glanced up at you, his eyes questioning. "Can I...?" he asked softly, his voice rough with desire. At your nod, he deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside to reveal your bare breasts to his heated gaze.

Soon enough his mouth was back on your tit, making you let out a sharp gasp. Your fingers caressed his soft curls, gently stroking his hair as he suckled and tugged on the hardened peak with his teeth.

Lucerys groaned softly as he felt your fingers in his hair, your gentle touch making his cock throb.

"I want... I want to make you feel good too," you whispered breathlessly, your voice thick with desire. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent, and it made you ache to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside you.

He could hear the need in your voice. It made him pulsate with desire, his arousal straining against his jeans.

He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a heated gaze. "You already do," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Making you feel good makes me feel incredible." He pressed another soft kiss to your breast before trailing his lips up to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

All the while, he rutted against your thigh. The friction was maddening, teasing, not enough but oh so good. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pounding as he lost himself in you.

He slid a hand down your body, his fingers skimming over your stomach, and your hips, before cupping your sex possessively. He could feel the heat radiating off you, could feel your slick arousal coating his fingers as he stroked along your slit. He groaned against your neck, his hips jerking sharply at the feel of your dripping sex.

"Fuck," he panted, his voice strained with desire. He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it swell beneath his touch. His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, before slowly pushing inside your tight heat. He groaned at the feel of your walls clenching around the invading digits, your body welcoming him in.

You choked on a moan as his fingers began pumping inside you, your greedy little cunt clenching hungrily around the delicious stretch. A needy whimper escaped your lips as he massaged my most sensitive spots.

Unable to resist any longer, your hand drifted down to cup the hard, straining length of him through his jeans. You could feel him throbbing against your palm. You applied pressure, rubbing along his impressive size, feeling him twitch eagerly against your touch.

You gazed at him with hooded, lust-darkened eyes, your voice breathless and heavy with desire. "I need to make you feel good," you insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to taste you, to feel you in my mouth, to make you feel as good as you make me feel.."

With that, you gently pushed him onto his back on the soft mattress, kneeling next to him as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Lucerys moaned into the kiss, his fingers still pumping slowly inside your dripping sex. He could feel your hand rubbing along his aching length, the pressure and friction delicious torture. He thrust his hips up into your touch, seeking more of that incredible sensation.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving as he looked up at you with lust-glazed eyes. "Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice strained with desire. "I want that more than anything."

He watched through hooded eyes as you slowly slid down his body, your fingers trailing over his chest, his stomach, before reaching for the button of his jeans. He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug his jeans and boxers down his legs. His hard cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

He shuddered as the cool air hit his heated flesh, his cock twitching under your gaze. Lucerys tangled his fingers in your hair, gently guiding you down to his lap.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice high and needy. "I need your mouth on me, need to feel your lips wrapped around my cock. Please." His words were punctuated by the thrust of his hips, his cock bobbing with each movement as he sought your touch.

You smiled at the needy tone in his voice, your heart melting at his desperate plea. "I'll make you feel so good...," I purred, "...baby boy," you added in a barely audible whisper. You leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the trail of hair, leading from his navel down to the base of his impressive cock.

When you called him 'baby boy' in that sweet, breathy tone, he let out a soft, strangled moan. His hips jerked off the bed, a fresh spurt of precum beading at the swollen tip.

A deep blush spread across his cheeks and neck at the unexpectedly intimate endearment. It made him feel cherished, desired, and strangely vulnerable in the best way possible.

"Fuck, I love hearing you call me that," he breathed out, his voice trembling slightly. "Please, I need your mouth on me. I'm going crazy."

Wrapping your hand around his thick shaft, you licked a slow stripe from base to tip, savouring the taste of his skin, the scent of his arousal. You could feel him pulsing in your grasp and could see the bead of precum glistening at the pink head of his cock.

You stroked him slowly, your hand gliding along his velvet-soft skin, feeling him twitch and pulse beneath your touch. You spat on his tip, letting your saliva dribble down his length.

He watched, enraptured, as you spat on his tip, the saliva trickling down his hard cock. It was so filthy, so dirty, and yet so fucking hot. He groaned at the sight, his cock jumping and leaking even more precum at the erotic display.

Lucerys could feel the heat building in his core, could feel his orgasm already threatening to overwhelm him. It was intense and all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

You slowly leaned in, placing kitten licks and soft, teasing kisses along his tip, your breath hot against his sensitive flesh.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he gasped out, his voice strained and high with pleasure. He could feel every flick and lick of your tongue. "Please," he whimpered, his voice breaking slightly. "I need more. I need to feel your lips around me."

You need more?" you purred, your voice low and teasing, a coy smile on your lips.

At his desperate nod, you leaned in, wrapping your soft, plump lips around the head of his cock. You could feel it throb against your tongue as you slowly took him deeper, inch by thick inch disappearing between your lips until the tip kissed the back of your throat.

Lucerys let out a choked moan as your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock, your hot mouth engulfing him completely. "Oh fuck, oh god," he panted, his fingers tightening in your hair as you took him deeper. He could feel the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat, and it made his hips jerk up involuntarily.

"I've never... fuck... I can't believe how good this feels." He looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes, watching as more and more of his hard length disappeared between your stretched lips with each bob of your head.

He could hardly form a coherent thought, his mind hazing with pleasure as you took him deeper and deeper. The sight of your mouth stretched around him, the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft, it was almost too much to bear.

Lucerys's hips jerked up involuntarily, seeking more of that amazing sensation. He could feel your throat convulsing around him as you adjusted to his size, and it made him groan deeply. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his skin flushed and sweaty.

You let out a gag as Lucerys thrust into your mouth, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden intrusion. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears as you gazed up at him with glossy, watery eyes.

The salty drops trickled down your cheeks, leaving a glistening trail on your soft skin. You could feel your makeup starting to run, but you didn't care. All you cared about was pleasing him.

Lucerys's heart clenched at the sight of your tears, a pang of concern and tenderness mixing with the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. "Shit, I'm sorry," he gasped out, immediately stilling his hips and gentling his grip on your hair. "I didn't mean to be so rough. Are you alright?" His hand gentled in your hair, no longer gripping, but caressing softly, his thumb brushing away the salty drops on your cheek.

But even as he said it, his hips jerked up accidentally, seeking the heat of your mouth once more. He was so close to the edge, his orgasm building rapidly in his heavy balls, heart racing at the erotic sight of your glistening, tear-stained cheeks and his hard cock stretching your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he panted. "I just... I need..." He couldn't even finish his sentence, too lost in the sensation of your mouth around him.

With great reluctance, he pulled you off his throbbing shaft, watching as it bobbed and jerked in the cool air. The thick head was a deep, angry red, leaking copious amounts of precum.

Your heart swelled at his tender concern, warmed by the worry in his voice. You gently squeezed his thick shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grasp.

"Shh, it's okay," you murmured, voice low and soothing. "You didn't hurt me at all. I promise." You leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. You could taste the salty essence of his arousal on your tongue, and it made you crave more.

Lucerys shuddered as he felt your soft lips press against the sensitive head of his cock, your soothing words and gentle touch helping to calm his frayed nerves. He looked down at you with hooded, desperate eyes, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"Do you want me to continue?" You asked softly, your eyes gazing up at him with innocence and sultry promise. Your hand slowly stroked along his hard length, twisting gently as you awaited his response.

"Please, I'm so close," he whimpered, desperation clear in his tone. "Can you... will you... I need to come so badly." His fingers tightened in your hair, gently urging you back down to his aching cock. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. I just... I need to feel your mouth on me again. Please."

He was usually so much more in control. Still, something about you, about this moment, had stripped away all his defences until he was left bare and aching with desire.

"Such a good boy," you murmured, your voice approving. You breathed in deeply, pressing your nose against the coarse trimmed hair at the base of his thick shaft, inhaling his scent and placing a chaste kiss there. Holding yourself there for a moment, before slowly pulling back.

Licking your lips, you dove back down, engulfing his hard length in the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, lapping at the sensitive skin as you took him deep. Each time you sank down, your tongue dragged over his heavy balls, massaging them gently as you worked his cock with your mouth.

Lucerys let out a strangled moan. "Oh fuck, oh god," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as you worked his aching cock with skilful ease. He could feel every flick and swirl of your tongue, every gentle massage of his cum-filled balls as you took him deeper and deeper.

Lucerys could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his groin, his balls drawing up as he neared his peak. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, not with the way you were worshipping his cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna come," he panted, his voice high and desperate. "Please, I need to come so badly. Can I... can I come in your mouth?" He looked down at you, his eyes hazy with lust and need. "I want to feel you swallow it, want to see you drink down every drop."

Gazing up at Lucerys with sultry, half-lidded eyes, you hummed your encouragement around his throbbing shaft, feeling it twitch against your tongue. Not needing words, you picked up the pace, bobbing your head faster as you worked him towards his release.

You wrapped your thumb and index finger snugly around the base of his thick cock, squeezing tightly. With each pump, you milked his heavy balls, coaxing out every last drop of his impending orgasm.

Lucerys's breath came in sharp, desperate pants as you worked him towards his release, your skilled mouth and hand driving him wild with lust. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he cried out, his voice rising in pitch and volume with each bob of your head.

With a final, strangled moan, Lucerys came undone, his cock pulsing and jerking as he spilt his hot seed down your eager throat. "Oh god, yes! Swallow it, please swallow it all!" he begged, his hips jerking up to bury himself deep in your mouth as he rode out the intense waves of his climax.

Thick, creamy ropes of cum pumped out of his throbbing shaft, coating your tongue and the back of your throat. It was an overwhelming amount, and he could feel you struggling to swallow it all, your throat working as you gulped down every drop of his release.

You tried desperately to swallow every drop of Lucerys's hot, thick seed, but some of it spilt from the corners of your stretched lips, dribbling down his twitching shaft. You pulled off his softening cock with a lewd pop, your chest heaving as you gasped for air.

Licking your lips, you cleaned up the mess, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head to lap up every last bit of his release.

"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your voice slightly hoarse from the exertion. You placed a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of his cock, feeling it twitch weakly against your lips.

Lucerys collapsed back against the pillows, completely spent and sated. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. He watched through hooded eyes as you licked and kissed his softening cock, cleaning up every drop of his release.

"Fuck...," he panted, his voice rough and low. "You're so pretty." He reached out, gently cupping your cheek and thumbing away a stray drop of his cum that had landed there.

You kissed and nipped your way up Lucerys's toned stomach, relishing the taste of his sweat-slicked skin. Reaching his neck, you pressed your soft lips against his racing pulse. A small smile played across your kiss-swollen lips as you gazed at him.

"Was that good?" you asked. You needed his praise and craved it like a drug. Seeing the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Your fingers traced patterns on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your touch. You snuggled closer, pressing your soft curves against his side as you waited for his response.

Lucerys gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration, his heart still racing in his chest. "That was... fuck, that was incredible," he breathed out, his voice filled with awe. "I've never... I mean, I've touched myself before, but that... you..."He seemed at a loss for words, unable to fully express the magnitude of the pleasure he had just experienced.

His hand tangled in your hair, gently stroking the silky strands as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I can't believe how amazing that felt," he murmured, his voice still rough from his intense orgasm. "I've never come so hard in my life. You're just..." He leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, pouring his gratitude and desire into the intimate embrace.

You kissed him back softly, your lips curving into a satisfied smile against his. Your hand drifted from his heaving chest, your thumb gently caressing the sweat-slicked skin of his neck. You could feel his pulse slowly returning to a normal rhythm and see the blissed-out, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face.

Lucerys deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He could feel himself growing hard again already, his cock stirring against your thigh as he pulled your naked body flush against his own.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight pussy wrapped around my cock." He rolled his hips, letting you feel how ready he was for you.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the weight of your breast in his palm. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it stiffen under his touch. He leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Tell me you want it too," he breathed against your throat. "Tell me you need me."

You arched into Lucerys's touch, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he groped you. "Mhm," you gasped out, nodding eagerly. "I need you, Lucerys. Ever since you made love to me on that boat, I knew no other man could ever satisfy me. Please, I'm yours, all yours." You breathed your words into his neck, your heart racing with anticipation and desire.

Lucerys groaned at your breathless admission, feeling a surge of masculine pride and possessiveness. He liked the sound of that, liked knowing that he had ruined you for other men. He wanted to make good on that promise and try to show you just how thoroughly he could satisfy you.

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that," he growled, his voice deep and low with desire. He rolled you over, settling his hard body between your soft thighs. He could feel your wet heat against his aching shaft, and it made him throb with need.

."I feel the same way," he murmured, his voice thick with feeling. "I know I can never let you go, not now that I've had a taste of paradise in your arms."

He reached down, gripping your thighs and pushing them up and back towards your chest. The new position left you open and exposed to him, completely at his mercy. He took a moment to admire the view, his eyes roving hungrily over your glistening folds.

"Keep saying things like that," he commanded, his tip nudging your entrance teasingly. "Keep telling me how much you need me, how good I make you feel. I want to hear all of it as I fuck this tight little cunt."

You gazed up at Lucerys with hooded, desire-darkened eyes, your heart racing in your chest. "Please, Luke..." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I have longed for you. I've thought about your touch every single night, aching for you.."

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, urging his mouth back to mine in a desperate, hungry kiss. Your knees were pressed against his elbows and against your chest. The new angle allowed you to feel every hard inch of him pressing urgently against your dripping core.

"I want you to take me all night long," you mumbled against his lips, your nails raking down his back.

Lucerys froze, his green eyes wide and unblinking as they locked onto yours. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t know how to breathe, his chest rising and falling unevenly as your confession settled over him.

“Say that again,” he whispered, his voice rough and shaky, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right the first time.

“I said,” you began, your voice soft but unwavering, “I want you to take me—all night long.”

His breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he tried to steady himself. “Fuck, you can't just...” he muttered, his voice trembling. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

He kissed you with a hunger that bordered on frantic, his tongue delving deep into your mouth to claim you, to taste you.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest heaving against yours. "I want to fuck you in every room of this house," he panted, his voice rough and low. "I want to bend you over the kitchen counter, lay you out on the dining room table, fuck you in the bath, on the balcony overlooking the sea..."

He rocked his hips slowly, his cock sliding through your slick folds, not yet pushing inside. "I want to please you," he murmured.

You felt the tip of his hard cock nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing you, making you ache for more. A soft moan escaped your lips as you arched into him, your heart racing in anticipation.

"We... fuck... we have all night," you sighed, voice breathy and low. You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his gorgeous face, his chest heaving with desire. "Please, I need you inside of me."

Lucerys groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his cock parting your slick folds and sinking into your tight heat. He had to pause, his breath catching in his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted to slam forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one hard thrust, but he forced himself to go slow, to savour every inch of your silken passage.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he slowly pushed forward, inch by delicious inch disappearing inside you. He could feel your body yielding to his, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick shaft.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Take my cock, let it fill you up." He rolled his hips, grinding against your clit as he bottomed out, his heavy balls nestling against your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped, your back arching off the bed as you finally felt Lucerys's thick cock sink deep inside you, stretching you deliciously. "Thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your voice high and breathy, your mind hazing with pleasure at being so perfectly filled. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Mmm, needed you so bad," you sighed. "Please, don't stop."

Lucerys groaned as he felt your nails dig into his back, the slight pain only spurring him on. He began to move, withdrawing slowly until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before surging forward again, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, wet heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, setting a deep, sensual pace as he made love to you. Each thrust pushed him deeper, his cock kissing your cervix as he ground his hips against yours.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers.

"I'm going to fuck you all night long," he murmured against your lips. "Keep saying those pretty things, keep telling me how much you need my cock. I want to hear it, want to feel you come apart on my dick again and again."

He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, driving himself harder and faster into your welcoming body. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he made love to you with increasing fervour.

"Lucerys," you mewled breathlessly, the word escaping your lips in a needy whimper. You could feel every hard inch of him throbbing within your tight, dripping walls, and it made you ache for more.

But you wanted to ride him, to watch his face as you made him lose himself in pleasure. You placed your hands on his firm chest, giving him a gentle push. "Sit up," you breathed out, your voice low and sultry. "I want to ride you until you can’t take no more, want to watch your pretty face as I make you feel good."

Lucerys paused, his eyes widening at your words. He hesitated for a moment, desire and hesitation warring in his gaze. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "I don't know if I can hold back if you start riding me." He bit his lip, his hips twitching slightly as he fought the urge to start thrusting up into you.

Your heart raced as you rolled my hips sensually. "Ohh, fuck, I love riding you," you praised him mindlessly, your words tumbling out in a jumbled mess.

"Don't hold back," you purred, your eyes gleaming with wicked promise. "I want to feel you throbbing and twitching inside me as I ride you hard and fast. I want to make you forget everything but the feel of my pussy around your cock, wanna watch your face as you come inside of me."

He thrusts up to meet your downward movements, driving himself deeper and harder into your dripping core. The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside you with every thrust, and he could feel your body starting to tremble above him.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and rough with lust. "Ride my cock just like that. Fuck, you look so sexy above me, bouncing on my dick like you can't get enough." He reached up to cup your breasts, squeezing the soft mounds and thumbing your nipples as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Gripping his shoulders, you pushed his face into your heaving breasts. "Suck my tits," you purred, voice breathy. "Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." You arched your back, your wet pussy making an obscene noise with each bounce.

Lucerys obeyed quickly, humming around your nipple, his tongue swirling and sucking greedily at the sensitive bud. He could feel your wetness dripping down his shaft as you rode him harder and faster, your needy little whimpers and moans spurring him on.

"Fuck, your tits taste so good," he muttered, switching to the other breast to give it the same treatment. He could feel his orgasm building, your tight cunt squeezing him like a vice as you chased your own release.

"I'm getting close," he gasped, his hips starting to move erratically beneath you. "I don't know how much longer I can last."

You arched your back, pushing Lucerys's face deeper into your breasts as jolts of pleasure shot through you from his greedy sucking. You could feel your climax fast approaching, your inner walls starting to flutter around his throbbing shaft.

"I'm close too," you squealed, your eyes squeezing shut as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "Don't stop!" Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, holding him against your chest as you ground your hips down, taking him as deep as you could. You wanted to feel him explode inside you.

Lucerys gripped your hips tightly and held you up, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he thrust up into you with increasing urgency. "Fuck, I can't hold back any longer," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his impending orgasm. "I'm going to fill this tight little pussy up so good. You want that, don't you? You want to feel my hot cum shooting deep inside you?"

He could feel your walls starting to flutter around his shaft, and he knew you were just as close as he was. He leaned in to capture your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

He gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he emptied himself inside you, his hot seed spurting deep into your waiting womb.

You threw your head back, a high, keening moan tearing from your throat as my orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamped down around Lucerys's pulsing cock, rippling and squeezing as you gushed all over his shaft, your juices splashing against his navel and dripping down his thighs. You were shaking uncontrollably above him, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy, feeling like you had been utterly possessed by the intensity of your climax.

The feeling of Lucerys taking control, gripping your waist and holding you in place as he emptied himself deep inside you, had sent you hurtling over the edge.

It was the most intensely pleasurable experience of your young life, and you knew you would be ruined for anyone else after this. No one could ever make you feel as good as Lucerys just had.

As you slowly came down from your high, you collapsed against his chest, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You breathed out, nuzzling into his neck. "I've never come so hard in my life."

Lucerys held you close, his arms wrapping around your trembling form as he felt your walls flutter and clench around his spent cock. He could feel your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his thighs.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice low and rough with sated desire. He brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you coming apart in my arms."

He rolled you over, settling you beneath him on the bed as he leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He poured all of his feelings into it, trying to show you just how much this moment had meant to him.

"I meant what I said before," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "You're mine now, all mine. I won't let anyone else touch you, not after I've had you. You belong to me. You belong with me."

"Mmm, you know I do. And I could never imagine letting another man touch me again..." you sighed. "Especially not after witnessing firsthand just how... protective you can be. I mean, what you did to Aegon back at the bar..." you giggled at the thought.

Your fingers played with the soft, damp curls at the nape of his neck as you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. "It was pretty damn hot though, seeing you finally let go like that. I loved watching you lose control, seeing the real you shine through." You nuzzled into his jaw, breathing in his musky scent. "Don't hide that from me. I want to see that intensity, all the time. I'm not scared. I'm not leaving." You said as your tone turned more serious, cupping his jaw.

Lucerys's heart raced at your words, a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness rising up inside him. He knew he would do anything to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. He leaned into your touch, his cheek resting in the palm of your hand as he gazed down at you with a fierce intensity.

"I won't hide anything from you," he vowed, his voice low and serious. "I want you to see all of me, the good and the bad. I want you to know that I would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make you happy. You're not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it."

He leaned in for a passionate kiss. He wanted to brand you with his kiss, to mark you as his for all eternity.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and intense as they bore into yours. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm yours, completely and utterly. We belong together, you and I. I know it, deep down in my bones."

You gazed up at Lucerys, a gentle expression on your face. "Even though you tried to push me away at first?" You whispered, your voice soft.

Lucerys's expression softened at the reminder, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. He sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. "Even then," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I was just... scared. Scared of how much I wanted you, of how easily you could ruin me if you were to leave. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were different, that you could make me feel things I had never felt before."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes. "But I can't run from this anymore, can't deny how much I need you. You've gotten under my skin, into my blood, and I don't ever want to be without you again."

"Good," you whispered, your voice soft and breathy with feeling. "Cause I don't want to be without you either." You pulled him into another kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as you pressed your lips against his in a loving caress.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you held each other, your bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars <3

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 5 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

warning(s): weed mischief

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4

You were sitting at your table, chatting amicably with everyone, when Gretchen finally graced you with her presence. She was glowing, that much you could admit.

"Hey, guys!" She gave an energetic greeting. You smiled and waved.

"Oh em gee, Gretch!" Regina said as she stood up. She was considerably taller than the bride, with killer heels that gave some significant inches. They did air kisses on each cheek and cooed and squealed for a little.

"It's been so long! You're so rarely in town I wasn't sure you'd come!" Gretchen enthused. Her husband stood on the sidelines, looking quite put out but trying to hide it.

"Oh, you know I always make time for you," A blatant lie but you weren't going to say anything about it. "I'm so happy you've found love!"

"Me too," Gretchen gushed, snaring her boo-thang by the arm. He'd zoned out so startled a little but recovered quick with a dashing smile.

"Hi, I'm Michael." Of course, his name was Michael. What was next? Chad? Tucker?

"Regina. Regina George." Regina said, then turned to you. "And this is my partner."

You stood up and shook his hand, then said your name. "Nice to meet you. Congrats."

Michael nodded, smiling uncomfortably. He'd seemed sociable and open with the other guests so you didn't get why he was being all shy now.

"Thanks!" Gretchen chirped. Her eyes flitted between you and Regina. "Sorry if this is abrupt, but you two are still together?"

"We did go on a break right before college." Regina chose her words deliberately. "But after that, we just couldn't resist. True love just pulls you in, doesn't it?" She put her arm around your waist and pulled you to her. You stumbled a little, falling into her. Your arms came around her neck.

Gretchen looked quite unsettled by the close embrace. "It totally does." She said, tone falling flat.

"Mmh. Well, what plans have you got? Honeymoon?"

"Michael's been planning it for us," Gretchen said. That surprised you considering she was such a control freak. Perhaps you were wrong.

"There's no keeping secrets from her," Michael laughed. "Surprising her is too damn hard." His Southern twang was prominent. Something was charming about him, you supposed.

"I just want it to be right, Mike!" Gretchen teased, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. "I've been better haven't I? I let Deborah do the flower arrangements."

"Yes, dear," Michael said, looking down at Gretchen with real, genuine love in his eyes.

Seeing them interact, so sweet on one another, made you sad. First of all, because you were so similar. You were on the same level, people just the same as them. Looking at them like this, in just the context of the moment currently playing out, you didn't want to ruin their wedding.

But you had history. Gretchen had outed you to the school in junior year of high school. It'd had devastating effects on your life as a whole. Your father went from cold neglect to open disdain, you lost the jobs you were doing around the neighbourhood, your peers ostracised you. Those close to you, Regina mostly, got targeted rumours spread around and more negative attention than ever.

Gretchen was not the sole reason for your and Regina's break up but definitely one of them. You had settled to forgive and forget when you came back to town, to stay away and not say anything in a silent, mutual agreement. You buried the hatchet and thought she had, too.

You should've known better. Watching her make googly eyes at her husband as if the things she did had no bearing, no weight, infuriated you. She had ruined your life. Things had progressed since you were in high school and outing didn't have quite the same fallout, but what she did to Kylie was still unforgivable. There hadn't been that much progress. Gay marriage was still illegal in some states.

"Man, Gretchen, seeing you like this brings me back." You said, eyeing her. "Those sure were the days," You sighed and played wistful.

The bride and groom shared glances. Regina picked up what you were putting down and got involved.

"You'll be seeing just how much of a wildcat she is, Michael," Regina said, laying it on thick. "You have my number, Gretch, just give me a call if you wanna relive old times on your wedding night." She finished off with a saucy wink. You almost couldn't hold in your laughter.

"Toodles," Regina wiggled her fingers and took you by the arm, leading you away.

Once you were a safe distance away, you asked: "Wonder if they'll talk about that in private?"

"About Gretchen being involved, allegedly, in a lesbian threesome sandwich? I'd bet on it." Regina grinned.

You steered towards the exit to the parking lot where your car was. You had the kazoos and water pistols in the trunk. Maybe you spent a good fifteen minutes pinning Regina to the side of your flashy vintage—Betty the Catalina, you introduced—sucking the soul out of her through her mouth. Making out. Whatever, that was neither here nor there.

While Regina set out to find a gullible mother to deceive into giving out kazoos and water pistols, you called a guy. Rick was his name and he owed you a favour. He happened to be the owner of several karaoke bars. He'd hook you up.

"Yeah, anything will do, just needs to connect to the loudspeakers—uhh, pretty new I'd say, nothing too fancy but they didn't skimp out, that's for sure—yeah, yeah, I'll give you the address. Can he get here in an hour? Maybe less? I can pay his speeding tickets, no worries."

After making sure a karaoke machine would be delivered to the reception, you strutted back towards the building. On the way, you spotted three youths huddled in a non-descript spot by some shed. They were only visible from the parking lot. You knew what they were up to.

"Hey, kids," You sidled up to them, prompting the tallest of them to fumble with the joint he was trying to light. He had acne all over and residues of black eyeliner on his eyes. He had a strip of hair dyed stripey like a racoon tail. It was pretty cool, to be honest.

"H- hey," He stuttered, voice cracking as he swiped some hair from his eyes. Oh, to be young.

"You got weed?" You decided to be blunt. (Ha, blunt.) The two others were shaking like leaves in their tuxedos.

"No. I don't, like, even know what that is," The ring-leader crossed his arms defensively and leaned casually against the wall of the shed. Or, well, he was going for casual but looked extremely spooked.

"Well, that's a damn shame 'cause I was just looking to buy some." You said and reached into your breast pocket to pull out your wallet. You opened it and pulled out a couple of fifties. "I got all this cash to burn. But, hey, if you don't got any..."

"You'd pay that much for weed?" The boy eyed the bills hungrily.

"I'll be straight with you, kid-"

"I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen." He grumped. "Flint. Or Finnigan, I guess."

"Alright, Flint, I'm gonna put this bluntly. Your family sorta sucks." You looked at the other two. They were probably all cousins. Wouldn't tattle if Flint, the Cool One, told them not to. They didn't seem that much younger. As a responsible adult, you should've probably said something along the lines of 'don't smoke it's bad for you' but you were just glad they weren't shooting up or anything.

"Understatement of the century," He scoffed.

"Which side are you from, by the way?"

"The groom's." They all said in unison. That explained why you'd never seen most of these folk.

"I don't know much about him to be fair, but if he's shacking up with Gretchen I'm pretty sure they're equally sucky. Anyway, I'm trying to get everybody as fucked up as possible." You clarified, skirting around exactly what you were trying to do which was to ruin the wedding. Maybe these kids had better morals than you. "The bride sorta caused a rift between my girlfriend and I years back, outed me to the whole school, it was a scandal, we broke up and I spiralled. It was bad and I want revenge."

"She outed you? Like..." Flint looked around, looking scared someone was gonna hear. Nobody else was around. "Like you're gay?"

"I'm here with my girlfriend today." You said, smiling dopeyly. Your cheeks hurt. "I think we're back together. It's complicated. So, you wanna sell?"

"Hell yeah," He grinned, teeth crooked to the ninth degree. "Can we get in on it? Michael totally sucks, he orders us around like we're his minions or something."

The other two nodded along empathetically. They all had the same boxy, swoopy haircut that kept falling into their eyes. What luck that ran into the angsty teens of the clan.

"I don't know how much you'll be able to do without getting in trouble with your parents. Gotta be at least a little subtle."

Flint dug into his backpack and pulled out a plastic tupperware. There were some decent-looking nugs in there from what you could see through the frosted plastic. You handed over the cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you." You contemplated for a moment. "Any chance you could pull the fire alarm for the cake-cutting?"

The three matching evil grins were enough of an answer for you. Their little emo faces made your chest feel warm. You wanted to take them under your wing, or something.

"By the way, weed is fine. It's not great, I don't recommend it, but if you're gonna do drugs then this is best case scenario." You shook the plastic case in your hand. "Never do hard drugs. It's gonna make your hair fall out and teeth hurt like a bitch."

You left the three teenagers to smoke their blunt, knowing that your little shpiel probably went through one ear and out the other. You hoped they pulled through but if they didn't, you were planning on doing enough wicked shit that the sprinklers triggering would just be a cherry on top.

You found Janis smoking a cigarette at the same spot you'd been at earlier.

"You got a grinder?"

You opened the lid of the box, blasting the air with the potent smell of cannabis.

"Where the fuck did you get all that?" She asked as she reached into her purse.

"Not important. What is, though, is how we'll get the guests high."

Janis, the bright mind that she was, immediately got to work. You didn't even bother asking what she was up to when she crouched on the floor and began grinding away. She had fast hands, you observed, with how quick and clean she was rolling several blunts. Now that you saw clearly into the tupperware, lord almighty Flint had a lot of kush.

"What's the plan?" You asked after a moment, holding the box in one hand and blunts in the other. You stubbornly ignored the compulsion to stick one between your lips and light up. That was over for you.

"Find a Helen, a Beatrice, and or a Leigh-Anne, and convince them this is a miracle herb harvested from the government-protected, top-secret alpine springs of Florida, known for reversing wrinkles, repairing hymens, and with long-term use reducing hair growth neck down. It might even accelerate or delay menopause, depending on whose asking."

"Florida is the flattest state in the continental USA." You pointed out.

"Exactly." Janis didn't spare you a glance, just kept on rolling.

"So we're spinning a multilevel-marketing scheme on these people."

"Not really." Janis paused and turned to you. "We're just scamming them. Not even with money, with the devil's lettuce."

"That's arguably worse. I think this might be a felony."

"Oh, it definitely is."

Notes: The ball is rolling! At last! It only took five chapters good golly god.

Taglist posted seperately! If you want on it, comment so on that post!

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: in a feud with her neighbor

bonus scenes now available

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5621

summary:

Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.

author’s note: this is so self-indulgent. i hope you guys enjoy it! if you like this work, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make my day 💕

special thanks to the angels who helped with ideas: @dreamingofdaddydin @jksprincess10 @mydailyhyperfixations @funnygirlthatgab

additional warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no use of y/n, story contains visual graphics, everyone pretend the 12 ft skeleton was available in 2003 and you could stream TV shows, no sarah, no outbreak, neighbor feuds, enemies to lovers, oral (explicit f receiving, non-explicit m receiving), semi-public sex, making out in a pool, reader is a menace and arguably the bad neighbor here, unprotected p in v, use of sex toys, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk. let me know if any are missing!

Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever. 

Your issues with him started on your first Halloween in the neighborhood. You had moved into your new home a few months prior, thrilled that you finally managed to escape the horrors of apartment living. You were now the proud owner of a little single story two bedroom craftsman style home, complete with fenced in backyard and a pool. 

You loved your little house and the neighborhood was ideal, quiet but tight knit. The neighbor to your left, an elderly woman named Betty, had invited you over for tea and cookies and given you the lowdown on the neighborhood gossip.

The neighbor to your right, Joel Miller, she said, was a wonderful man. Polite, kind, and not too hard on the eyes either. You hadn’t met him yet, but with a glowing review like that, you couldn’t wait until you did.

She had also mentioned that the neighborhood goes all out for Halloween. They even hosted a contest for the best decorated house. Your mind already raced with the possibilities.

You loved Halloween. In Texas, the stifling heat finally eased around that time, dropping to a slightly more tolerable range in the 80s with cooler nights. You loved seeing all the displays in the stores and how abandoned storefronts would be overtaken by whole companies dedicated to Halloween. You watched all the horror movies you could and on the weekends you’d seek out local fall festivals because you’re a sucker for candy apples and funnel cake.

No one ever decorated at the apartment complex you previously lived in, so you were extra excited to decorate your house and yard. You bought fake tombstones and plastic skeletons for the yard, spider webs and little ghosts to hang in the trees. You carved two pumpkins to set on either side of the steps leading up to your front door and made little ghost statues out of tomato cages, foam balls, and white fabric. You even strung purple lights through your hedges. 

You were totally going to win the decorating contest. You were confident that you would.

Until you woke up Halloween morning and Joel Miller had somehow decorated his entire home in the time that you had been sleeping, blissfully unaware.

The man had somehow managed to set up an entire army of skeletons, including a handmade wooden jail stuffed with ones trying to escape. There were some posed on the house itself, climbing up the sides and the roof. He had some coming out of the ground, red spotlights fixed on them for an eerie glow. But perhaps most impressive of all was the twelve foot skeleton with glowing red eyes that was posed near the makeshift jail, holding the door open like it was releasing the trapped undead soldiers.

Joel Miller had the motherfucking twelve foot skeleton. You wanted one of those so bad but it was always sold out. You checked every nearby Home Depot for months trying to find one and here Joel Miller has one, taunting you.

He won the decorating contest, sweeping the victory from right under your feet.

It may seem silly, but that was the moment you decided Joel Miller was the worst neighbor ever.

When you were buying your first home, you had been meticulous in calculating your finances in order to comfortably afford the purchase. You did not, however, account for having to repair your air conditioning system within less than a year of moving in. This made a significant dent in your savings, which led you to cut your expenses elsewhere.

One such expense was your internet. Why? Because it turns out Joel Miller, asshole neighbor, doesn’t password protect his router and you can just use his.

It’s not like he would notice.

_________________

Joel stares at his internet bill in confusion. This is the third month in a row that he’s been charged for going over his data allowance. That doesn’t even make sense. He’s the only person in his house and he only uses the internet on his phone to check the news and sometimes play Candy Crush. It’s why he got the lowest data plan in the first place.

He tries to think of what he could be doing differently, but comes up short. Hell, he’s not even home most of the day. He works long hours at different contracting jobs, so his free time is spent watching TV (cable, not connected to the internet), and sleeping.

But then it hits him. The overage charges never happened until you moved in. 

Joel powers up his ancient laptop and has to Google search what a router is. Turns out, he doesn’t have a password set on his. Which means, if his hunch is correct, you’ve just had free access to his internet this whole time.

He learns how to set a password and, more importantly, he learns how to change the name of his router. 

He needs to send a message, after all.

_________________

You’re about to start another episode of Grey’s Anatomy, courtesy of your friend generously sharing her Netflix password, when you receive an error message. 

No internet connectivity. Try again?

The little WiFi connection icon is missing from your toolbar. You investigate further, opening the list of options and scanning them for Joel’s, conveniently titled Miller.

But instead you find a new name.

GetYourOwnWiFi. And it’s password protected.

“Son of a bitch,” you hiss.

Joel Miller’s tree is always dropping debris in your yard. The limbs have grown over your shared fence line and on windy days you have to deal with extra pool clean up on top of the usual mess it makes of your yard, twigs and leaves ruining your perfectly manicured backyard oasis. 

You’ve asked him to trim the branches. Left him notes on his door and in his mailbox, but he still hasn’t done it.

Today you’re sending a new kind of message.

He’s going to wish he’d listened when you asked nicely. 

_________________

“What the fuck,” Joel growls when he gets home just after sunset. There’s piles of leaves and twigs littering his front porch, almost to the point that he can’t see the concrete slab beneath. 

There’s no way this just happened through the force of nature. It’s been a perfectly clear day in Austin and besides, there’s no trees at the front of his house for this kind of mess to fall from.

Which can only mean…

His eyes spot the bright pink Post-It note stuck to his door and he curses under his breath as he stomps up the porch steps and rips it down.

Here. Clean your own mess up for once. 

xoxo

Joel crumbles the note in his fist, taking deep breaths as he heads for the garage to grab a broom and a trash bag.

He’ll get you back.

He always does. 

You love animals, especially cats. Unfortunately, being allergic, you don’t have the option to have one of your own all the time. 

When you spot the first neighborhood stray, your heart lights up with excitement. It’s a little black and white cat with bright green eyes that walks right up to you while you’re getting your mail, winding its lithe body between your legs and purring against you. You stoop to pet it, mentally reminding yourself to wash your hands before you touch your face, otherwise your eyes would be itchy for hours.

“Hello, little baby,” you murmur, rubbing a hand down the length of its back. “How are you?” The cat gives a strong meow in response. “Oh, are you hungry? Let’s go see if I have anything I can give you as a treat.”

Back inside your house, you locate a can of tuna and dump it into a small plastic bowl. The cat sits patiently on the porch, tail flicking in anticipation. It hops down and shoves its little face into the bowl as soon as it’s within reach. 

“So cute,” you say, giving it one last pat on its back before returning inside.

_________________

There’s a cat sitting on Joel’s porch, watching him as he parks his truck. It’s the second time this week there’s been a cat lurking around his property. The first one he found out in the backyard, tearing up his flower beds.

The neighborhood had never had an issue with cats before, so he has a sneaking suspicion that you’re, once again, the root cause of his suffering. 

His suspicions are confirmed when he sees you on the porch one day, laying out a row of plastic bowls filled with what he assumes is cat food. At first he’s annoyed that he’s right, it is you feeding the cats, which is why they’ve been terrorizing his yard, but then you turn around and he’s struck by how utterly gorgeous you are. 

This is the first time Joel’s ever actually seen you. He’s usually out of the house before dawn and back after sunset, which must not coincide with your schedule since you’ve never run into each other. He remembers Betty, the older woman who lives to your left, telling him about meeting you.

“Gorgeous girl, that one. You two would probably hit it off,” she said as he hung a picture frame for her.

“Don’t go playin’ matchmaker, Betty,” he replied. 

But damn, seeing you now in a pair of little shorts that hug your hips and ass just right and a tight white t-shirt that shows off the tiniest bit of skin above the waist of your shorts is making him think he should have taken Betty up on her word.

Joel’s so distracted that he almost misses the way the cat on his porch hits one of his planters with his paw, knocking the ceramic over and spilling dirt all over the ground.

“Fuck!”

_________________

There’s a note on your door the next morning, a torn piece of paper with a familiar scrawl of messy handwriting that could only belong to one person.

Stop feeding the cats or you owe me new plants.

-Joel

The note actually makes you giggle. Betty sees you on your porch and beckons you over to hers.

“What’s got you gigglin’ like a schoolgirl?” The older woman asks.

“What? Nothing,” you reply too quickly.

“Wouldn’t happen to be a note from a certain tall, strong, and handsome young neighbor of yours?”

“No, definitely not.” 

She smirks at you. “You better quit terrorizin’ that poor man, honey.”

“Now, Betty, where would the fun be in that?” You say brightly as you head back to your house, the sound of her laughter following you through the door. 

There’s a package on Joel’s porch when he gets home from work. He doesn’t remember ordering anything, but he wouldn’t put it past himself.

He brings it inside without thinking twice or checking the label, chucking it on the counter with the rest of his mail as he searches for a box cutter in his junk drawer.

Joel cuts through the packing tape, lifting the flaps and rifling through the packing paper to pull out the contents.

It’s another box, light pink with the image of a hot pink u-shaped device on the top. The text across the top reads REMOTE VIBRATOR in black script.

He nearly drops the box in surprise, fumbling it in his hands. He’s certain he didn’t order this. 

Joel pulls the shipping box back towards him, keeping an eye on the vibrator like it might grow legs and run away. He flips the lid over to inspect the shipping label, his eyebrows rising as he reads your name and home address instead of his.

He looks at the toy again, mind whirling with images of you on your back, remote in hand as you bring yourself pleasure. He coughs, clearing his head and adjusts himself in his jeans.

He searches the junk drawer for a sheet of paper and a pen.

_________________

You’re staring at the delivery confirmation email from Lovelies, panic creeping down your spine. It says that your new toy has been delivered but there’s no package in your mailbox or on your porch. You’ve checked everywhere.

Which means it was either delivered to one of your neighbors or someone stole it.

If you’re being honest, you’d rather someone stole it than to have to go knock on Betty or, god forbid, Joel’s door to ask if they accidentally received your sex toy delivery. Your cheeks heat at even the thought of Joel knowing what you ordered. You head back inside empty handed.

Later, when you open your door to feed the cats, you’re surprised to find a box on your welcome mat. You set the bowls of food down and carry it inside, your excitement mounting. 

But when you open the box, you’re mortified to find a torn piece of paper on top of the packing material, Joel Miller’s familiar handwriting on the sheet.

Interesting choice

-Joel

“Fucking asshole,” you mumble, crumbling the note and tossing it to the side. You pull your new toy from its box and turn it on. “Huh. Fully charged.”

Your jerk of a neighbor won’t ruin your night if this little gadget has anything to say about it.

It’s Joel’s one day to sleep in and you’ve been blasting your music all fucking morning. He’s already got his head shoved under his pillow but the sound still filters through, ruining his chances of any extra hours of sleep to make up for his lack of it during the week.

He rolls out of bed with a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand across his beard. He heads downstairs to make coffee, the heavy beat of your music chasing him through the house. He can feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind his eyes.

Joel tries to tune it out. Really. He does. As much as the two of you butt heads, he doesn’t mean anything by it, not really. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, nor is he trying to be one. 

But if you don’t turn your music down soon he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

He gives you another hour. He’s feeling generous. But when the music just keeps playing, he finally snaps. 

Joel shoves his feet into the work boots beside the door, paying little mind to the fact that he’s not wearing socks. In fact, he’s still in his sleep pants and ratty old t-shirt but he’s too far gone to care.

Once he’s in front of your door, he bangs on the wood with his fists. He waits for a response and when he doesn’t get one, probably since you can’t fucking hear him, he bangs again. There’s movement from the corner of his eye and he turns his head to find Betty watching him, lips tilted in a smirk.

“You okay with this?” Joel asks, gesturing vaguely to your house to indicate the noise level inside. 

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” she replies before shuffling inside. He turns back to the door to pummel it with his fists again but he’s surprised to find it open.

“Howdy, neighbor,” you say, eyebrow raised and arms crossed beneath your breasts.

Which were currently covered by the tiniest bikini top he’s ever seen. His eyes trail lower, over the expanse of your stomach to the matching bikini bottoms that peek out past the folded waist of your denim shorts.

“Uh,” he says, followed by a strained cough. “Hi.”

_________________

Joel Miller is standing on your porch dressed in a threadbare t-shirt and gray pajama bottoms that sit low on his hips, a strip of soft tan belly peeking out from above the waistband when he stretches an arm up to run his fingers through his dark, messy curls.

Christ, you think. The man is prettier than Betty gave him credit for.

“Can I help you?” You ask. His eyes snap from where they’d been lingering on your chest and you straighten your back just the slightest bit at the knowledge he’d been checking you out. 

Joel clears his throat. “Your music is way too loud.”

You roll your eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“Does…what hurt?”

“Always having a stick up your ass.” 

Betty barks a laugh from her porch and Joel’s head turns so fast you have whiplash just watching him. He throws his hands up.

“Who’s side are you on, Betty?!” He shouts. 

You’re bent over, laughing so hard your stomach hurts and tears form at the corners of your eyes. When you finally catch your breath and return your attention to Joel, he’s got his hands on his hips and an impressive furrow between his brows.

“Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m about to go out by the pool and have a drink. Wanna join?” You ask. 

“I don’t have my suit with me.”

“Well good thing you’re just right next door, huh? Go get it. I’ll leave the door unlocked,” you tell him before shutting the door in his face.

_________________

Joel returns to your house thirty minutes later, showered and wearing his swim trunks and a new t-shirt. He wipes his sweaty hands against his chest, not entirely sure why he’s nervous. He’s just having a drink with his annoying neighbor to hash out all the issues. No big deal.

Your music is still playing when he enters your house, giving the door a courtesy knock before letting himself in. The front door opens directly into the main living space, a large sectional couch facing a TV mounted between two windows to his right and a dining nook to his left. Your kitchen is nestled in the corner, just past an opening to a hallway that he assumes leads to the bedrooms. Your place is bursting with colors and textures and patterns, from the floral blanket draped over your velvet couch to the leaf patterned wallpaper and natural stone backsplash in your kitchen. You have tea towels hanging from your stove that say “ANOTHER ONE BITES THE CRUST” with a picture of a pizza, and an impressive looking bar cart that houses a variety of liquor bottles and glassware.

There’s a splash from outside and Joel sees that the sliding glass door to your patio is open. He steps onto the concrete deck, surveying the backyard oasis you’ve created for yourself. The pool is on the smaller side but still, it’s a pool, and Joel’s a little jealous of it. You’ve got chaise loungers lined near the edge and matching chairs that surround a little fire pit further out in the yard. There’s string lights hung from the shade canopy that extends from your house. 

You pop up from beneath the surface, your hair slicked back from your face and little droplets of water clinging to your skin. Joel stands there, unsure of what to do, until you swim to the ledge closest to him and drape your arms over it, regarding him with keen eyes.

“Hi,” you say. He swallows, the nerves returning as he tries desperately to not let his gaze fall below your neck.

“Hey,” he replies. 

“There’s beer in the cooler. Grab me one?” You ask before ducking back beneath the surface. He can see you swim towards the edge of the pool that the loungers face. He grabs two beers as instructed, popping the tops with the bottle opener fixed to the lid of the cooler. You break the surface once more, swimming over to where he sits on the end of one loungers.

Joel passes you the beer and you tip it towards him in thanks before taking a deep pull, your lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle and distracting him monumentally. 

“So, you’re the Joel Miller, huh?” You ask. “Tell me about yourself.”

The two of you talk for what feels like ages. He learns that you’re a software engineer and you work a typical 9-5 schedule, which is why he’s never caught you around the neighborhood before. You don’t like to be outdoors much, preferring reading and catching up on your Netflix shows. You have two brothers, both of whom are older than you and live on the opposite side of the country, but you visit them around Christmas. You love animals, but have major allergies so you settle for fleeting moments with the neighborhood strays and occasionally watching your best friend’s dog when she goes out of town. 

He tells you about his work as a contractor, which he’s been doing since he was fresh out of high school and had no idea what to do with his life. He talks about his brother Tommy, how they work together on most projects and they want to start their own contracting business, but that’s a dream for another day. He mentions he’s more of a dog person than a cat person, especially because he has a grudge against the orange neighborhood cat that is still tearing up his flowerbeds. 

Joel loves the way you laugh, bright and full bodied as you toss your head back and bring a hand to your chest each time. You talk with your hands a lot, which is funny because you keep letting go of the pool ledge and scrambling to grab it again when gravity pulls you down in the water. If he doesn’t give enough detail in an answer, you’re not shy about asking him for more information, like when he said his favorite color was blue.

“Okay, but what shade of blue?” You asked.

“Just…blue?” Joel asked, clearly not understanding your question.

You rolled your eyes. “Men. I like lavender. Not just purple. Purple is a range of shades.”

“I guess…navy?”

“Now you’re getting somewhere, big guy!”

The conversation lulls as you share your drinks in companionable silence. The Texas sun bears down on his back, his t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his sweat slick skin. He bites the bullet and reaches behind his head to tug the damp fabric off, leaving him in just his swim trunks. He doesn’t miss the appreciative once-over you give him.

You extend a hand to him. “Help me out?””

Joel grasps your hand in his, marveling for a moment how small it is in his broad palm. He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t notice the michievous look on your face, or the way you plant your feet to the pool wall for leverage.

You give a sharp tug with both hands and he goes toppling into the pool with a surprised shout.

_________________

You’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The look on Joel’s face as you tugged him into the pool will be burned into your memory for years to come. You’d been waiting all afternoon for the man to take his shirt off, not only because you were admittedly dying to see what was hiding beneath the fabric, but also because you wanted exact a little neighborly revenge for stomping over to your house to tell you your music was too loud.

You’re feeling mighty accomplished, right up until you feel a hand wrap around your ankle and you get pulled beneath the surface with no warning. 

You open your eyes, chlorine stinging them as you see Joel torpedo towards the shallow end of the pool. You give chase, breaking the surface with a gasp.

“You asshole–”

Joel cuts you off by wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you close and tipping his head down to capture your lips with his. He kisses like a man starved and he tastes like sunshine and chlorine and the beer he’d been drinking as his tongue slides hungrily against yours. He uses his arm to press your body to his, but it’s not close enough.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lift your legs to circle his waist, your center grinding against his rapidly hardening length. Joel trails his hands up and down your back, stopping to grab rough handfuls of your ass as he groans against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he curses. “This little fuckin’ bikini has been torturin’ me all day.”

“Why don’t you just take it off then?” You offer. He pulls back to watch your face as his fingers find the strings of your bottoms beneath the water, giving both sides a quick tug until you feel the material fall away. His hand creeps up your back, pulling at the strings holding your top together around your back and neck until they, too, fall away.

Joel walks the two of you forward until your back collides with the rough stone of the pool wall.  He presses a muscular thigh between your legs, boxing you in with his body. Your hips jerk at the sudden pressure and friction against your bare pussy, a moan slipping from your lips as Joel presses kisses to your jaw and neck, nipping the delicate skin with his teeth.

“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your skin, the deep timbre of his voice making a shiver dance down your spine despite the Texas heat. “Those sounds are just for me, isn’t that right?”

You nod your head quickly and he rewards you with another toe curling kiss. Your hips rock against his thigh and he swallows every little whimper as his hands explore your body.

“Joel,” you whine. His fingers pinch and pull your nipples before he soothes them with sweet circles of his calloused thumb.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asks. One of his hands slides across your thigh and your breath hitches as he brings it dangerously close to your pussy before trailing it back down. “You need somethin’?”

“Need you to touch me.”

“That right? You want me to take care of that pretty little pussy?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “Please.”

“So polite. Where’s all that attitude from earlier, hm?” Joel asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. You narrow your eyes at him.

“I can be rude, Miller. You want that instead?”

“Trust me, I know, but I think I like you better when you’re beggin’ for me,” he replies with a grin. 

Joel’s hands grab onto your waist and he hoists you up onto the ledge. His broad shoulders press against the back of your thighs and his arms drape across your hips. He smiles at you, mouth tauntingly close to where you’re desperate for relief. You lean back on your elbows, the concrete warm against your bare skin and the sun washing over you.

“How about you show me those nice manners one more time?” He asks. 

You grit your teeth. “Joel, I swear to god I will go inside and lock you out–”

Your threats are cut off by your startled moan as he licks through your folds, broad swipes of his tongue from your fluttering entrance to your aching clit. His sweet brown eyes are sinful as he looks up at you from between your thighs, devouring your pussy like his last meal. His nose rubs against your clit each time his tongue dips inside of you and you’re quickly reduced to a writhing mess.

You shift your weight to one arm and reach down with the other to tangle your fingers into his hair. He moans appreciatively against your cunt, the vibrations making you keen. When your hips start to fight against his hold, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking and rolling it with his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that,” you babble, trying to keep your voice down as you balance right on the edge of your orgasm. He hums again, tongue swirling over your clit until that final thread snaps and you free fall into oblivion, fingers curling tightly against his scalp and making him groan as he works you through your release.

Your limbs go boneless in the aftermath and you collapse against the ground, an arm over your eyes to block out the sun. You hear the sound of water sloshing before Joel lays beside you on his back, arms beneath his head. He turns to look at you, his bright smile making your heart flutter in your chest. 

And when he extends an arm out for you to snuggle up against him, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Joel Miller isn’t such a bad neighbor after all.

“What do you mean you thought I was the asshole?!” Joel asks indignantly as he leaves your bathroom. He’s got a towel held up around his waist and you’re finding it hard to concentrate on his words at this exact moment.

You’ve just finished showering together after your outdoor activities, where you returned his poolside favor with some attention of your own. Now, you’re laying on the bed in your own towel, tired from the sun and the sex. 

You’ve also just admitted that you thought he was the worst neighbor. An asshole even. And now he’s looking at you like you’re insane.

“You stole my internet!” He exclaims. 

“You can’t prove that,” you reply, maybe a bit too quickly. He raises an eyebrow at you, but you refuse to back down.

“Fine, but you put all those twigs and shit on my porch.”

“They were from your tree, I was simply…returning your property.”

“And the cats?” He crosses his arms. “Because of you, my flowerbeds look like shit and I’ve lost two planters.”

“Not my fault they can sense you’re the weak link. They’re asserting their dominance. Hiss at them or something,” you say with a shrug.

Joel gapes at you. “You can’t be serious.”

“Look, it’s water under the bridge now, right? What can I do to make it up to you?”

He’s silent for a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“Where’s that toy you bought, sweetheart?”

_________________

Joel’s got you on your back, your wireless vibrator placed snugly inside of your and against your clit. You’re glaring at him because he’s stopped you from another orgasm. He’s quickly becoming obsessed with that fire in your eyes and the curl of your lip when you’re mad at him.

He presses a trail of kisses from your ankle to the inside of your thighs, nipping the sensitive skin close to your pussy just to hear you gasp. He continues across your abdomen and your breasts, stopping to lavish attention to each sensitive nipple, your back arching against him for more.

“Joel,” you whine, squirming beneath him. He stretches up to capture your lips in a kiss, your lips dragging across his in the most addicting way. His cock slides against the smooth skin of your hip, making him groan. With a flick of his thumb, he turns the toy back on. “Oh, fuck!”

“Want you to come for me this time, baby,” Joel tells you. “Then I want you to come all over my cock, okay?”

You nod, back bowing and muscles straining as your writhe against the vibrations. Joel sits back on his heels to watch you, the way your mouth is dropped open in a silent shout and how your eyes find his at the exact moment you start to come undone.

“Oh my god,” you pant as Joel swiftly removes the toy, the pink silicone shiny with your release. He tosses it to the side and presses his cock to your fluttering hole, sinking inside of you with a deep groan. Your walls are still clenching with the aftershocks of your orgasm as he begins to thrust, slow and deep.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he growls. He uses a hand to press one of your knees closer to your chest, his fingers wrapped tightly beneath your knee. 

The change in angle gets him deeper and his pace grows faster in response to your moans. He can feel you start to pulse around him, each drag of his cock out of your cunt getting harder as your walls squeeze, desperately trying to keep him inside. 

“Touch yourself,” Joel commands. “Wanna see you come for me again, pretty girl, come on.”

Your fingers find your clit, swirling through the mess of slick coating your folds. Your eyes are glued to him as you work yourself to the same rhythm of his thrusts. He knows you’re close when your eyes start to flutter, your head dropping back against the mattress and your thighs going tight against his hips.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, just like that,” he growls as you come with a shout of his name. “Christ, you look so damn good.”

You blink at him, your eyes hazy and your smile languid as he chases his own release, using your sensitive cunt for his pleasure. When it gets to be too much, too close, he withdraws, fisting his cock with rough strokes until he comes in thick splashes against your belly.

He collapses on the bed beside you, both of your chests heaving with deep breaths. After a moment, he uses one of the towels to wipe you clean, tossing it to the floor. You glare at him. 

“You better put that in the hamper later,” you admonish. He pulls you into his side. 

“So, why exactly did you think I was an asshole neighbor?” He asks. To his surprise, you blush, mumbling something he can’t make out. “What?”

“I said because you beat me at the Halloween decorating contest.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. You have the twelve foot skeleton and I’m jealous.”

“I’ll get you as many skeletons as you want,” Joel laughs. You smile at him.

“Sounds good to me, big guy.”

_________________

The following Halloween, there are two twelve foot skeletons in the neighborhood, and they live right next door to each other.

Joel Miller taglist: 

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-cat @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu @dreamingofdaddydin

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

[clockwards]

Have some Gempearl minific bits because I don't think I'll ever write a proper one (although I am writing a longer, weirder, Gem-centric fic)

Gem likes being a deer. She used to say it was because people underestimated her, but those days have long since passed. Her antlers hold her a little taller than Joel's curled horns, something she gleefully thinks about but does not say aloud when he forms hills to be higher - she'd rather blame his mountain goat instincts than listen to his blustering excuses.

They are out of their element with the current base of operations, anyway. Deer need trees to run between, goats need cliffs to scale, but this is a wide, open space. It screams danger on all sides, even with the little walls they'd constructed. None of which was helped by the swathes of people (friends, friends, something caustic and fearful) that gathered around her barn. A piece of her loves it: there is safety in numbers, safety in the herd when they hear the ticking clock. This time more than ever there is a tug of confusion on her heartstrings when they circle her, yellow and aching, mangy wolves around a faun.

The wolves kind of suck at killing her though, so she mostly ignores them.

And in her periphery, Pearl flits. It’s in her nature, as a moth. To circle around a light source and tempt fire, to see a beautiful spot of colour and want to suck it dry. She teases at the edge of her vision, goading death and friendship, pressing at the soft centre of Gem’s back and whispering.

“I want that life, doe. I bet it’d taste delicious.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come take it yourself, my dear.”

Privately, she thinks of the whole ordeal as a particularly bad Disney movie plot. Like Bambi, if his first interaction with the butterflies was to be mildly threatened. She’s generally easy to ward away, a soft shoo-ing off from herself or Scott. Out of earshot, she jokes about needing bug spray, and Joel cackles. Together they are a bright, glowing green and the whole world tastes like pepper and lemongrass under their tongues.

They’ve gotten rather collaborative in the past few hours, the flying trivia game causing people to run screeching for answers. She watches, a genial smile on her face, as Pearl’s alights in her yard.

“Who, oh, who opened the End portal in secret life?”

Gem blinks.

“I don’t know, I don’t know who put the last Eye in, I wasn’t-”

She stops listening. That secret had burnt the nerves from her hand to forehead, that secret made her who she was. It felt like water trickling the wrong way up her arm as she set it in the frame, cracking open a hole in the world and in turn, her body. She’d spent the rest of that life with a numb, twitching shield hand, the spots on her shoulder bright with some odd, false light. She hadn’t even won. She hadn’t won, because-

“I think it was me.”

Her head snaps back to the present. And truly, she could have corrected her. She could have shouted ‘me, me!’ the second the question was asked and saved them both a world of pain. Spite and hope hold her tongue like a hostage, and she finds spite has much better reason. Pearl is laughing nervously as the robot puts the microphone down, and Gem is reassuring her, Watcher knows why. She finds her vision is blurred a little, everything coming in and out of focus, until Joel laughs so hard and loud he bleats a little, calling,

“Gem! Gem, she sounds like a robot! Pearl, talk, say something, come on!”

She’s slapping her hand over her mouth repeatedly as if it will system reset her, words coming out as garbled beeps. She catches Gem’s gaze and speaks louder, as if she could solve this for her.

“You know.” She walks backwards and Pearl follows, beeping askance, gesturing wildly. She grins. “You know, I think we can finally have a conversation like this, Pearly.”

It’s a ridiculous punishment. She cannot help but feel it was hand-picked for her pleasure, though, watching those wings flare out in annoyance with every word.

“You’d do anything for me, I know.”

The frown on her face and bucket of lava in her hand say otherwise, but it’s just too easy to put words in her mouth this way. To hear what she wants to hear. It’s laughable, and pitiful, but her left shoulder aches with phantom pain and she remembered nothing of it.

“Oh, my…my poor red Pearl.” Schooling her expression, she turns to blink consideringly up at her. “When I’m red, and you’re still here…I’m sure we can have some fun. Again”

When she nods eagerly, glitching sounds of joy spilling from her, Gem smiles for real. It’s a promise. It is, maybe, a threat.

*

In the middle of the next (typically chaotic) day, Pearl drifts behind her calling plaintive compliments.

“You’re gorgeous, you’re amazing, Gem, come on,”

“Uh huh.”

“You- you’re like a flower!”

“And you’re a bug,” she snorts, grinding her heel over the freshly shoveled dirt. Pearl sputters, antennae flexing dramatically.

“That, that-” she mutters to herself, before jumping triumphantly, “that means, that we are meant to go together!”

Gem cocks her head to the side, smiling at the ground. From Pearl’s vantage, she's certain the moth cannot see it. It’s silly to be pleased at something like that, and anyway, she’s much too far into her game to give it up now.

“Uh huh, Pearl, if you say so,” she hums, tune ever sweeter with her companion competition’s indignation.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 31/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Slight!Smut, Language, age gap, angst, fluff

Word Count: 8459

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

It was late November, the air crisp but not too cold, and you sat on Jared’s porch in the backyard, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the scene. Jared’s wife and kids were out of town, leaving the house quiet except for the low murmur of conversation and the occasional sound of Jensen pacing in the yard below. Jensen was on the phone with Danneel—again. The tension in his voice was unmistakable, even though you couldn’t make out the exact words.

You took a sip from your beer, your shoulders slumping as you let out a sigh. It was the same story over and over. Danneel had promised to sign the divorce papers weeks ago, and yet here you were, nearly at the end of November, and nothing had changed. Every time it seemed like progress was being made, something would come up—some excuse, some new argument, and the papers would remain unsigned.

Jared, who was sitting beside you on the porch, glanced at you, clearly noticing your frustration. He took a swig of his own beer, his eyes drifting over to Jensen, who was pacing the backyard, his voice rising and falling as he argued with Danneel. It was hard not to feel the weight of the situation. This whole thing had been dragging on for far too long, and it was taking a toll on everyone—especially Jensen.

“Seems like it’s never gonna end, huh?”, Jared said quietly, breaking the silence between you. He leaned back in his chair, watching Jensen with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance. "I hate seeing him like this. He deserves better".

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. The frustration and uncertainty had been building up inside you for weeks. You knew how much Jensen was struggling, caught between trying to do right by his kids and wanting to move forward with his life—and with you. But as long as Danneel kept dragging her feet, it felt like you were all stuck in limbo, waiting for something that might never happen.

“I just don’t get it”, you finally muttered, your voice tinged with frustration. “She said she would sign. What’s she waiting for? It’s like she’s doing this just to keep him tied up in knots”.

Jared let out a soft grunt of agreement. “That’s exactly what she’s doing. She knows what she’s doing, keeping him on edge like this. It’s about control, and she doesn’t want to let go of it”.

You sighed, resting your elbows on your knees as you watched Jensen continue to pace. You hated seeing him like this—so stressed, so caught up in a situation that seemed to have no end in sight. You knew how much he loved his kids, how important it was to him to be a good father, and that made everything more complicated. Danneel knew exactly how to push his buttons, and she wasn’t afraid to use the kids as leverage.

“He can’t keep living like this”, you said softly, more to yourself than to Jared.

Jared nodded, his gaze still fixed on Jensen. “No, he can’t. But until Danneel lets go, I don’t know what else he can do. It’s like she’s holding him hostage, and there’s only so much he can push before it affects the kids even more”.

You knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. You took another sip of your beer, trying to push away the gnawing feeling of helplessness. This wasn’t how you’d imagined things would be when you and Jensen started this relationship. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the constant back and forth with Danneel, the endless waiting, was starting to wear you down.

After a few more minutes of pacing, Jensen finally hung up the phone, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He walked over to the porch, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He didn’t say anything at first, just dropped heavily into the chair beside you, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s still not ready to sign”, he muttered, his voice tight with anger. “Every time I think we’re making progress, she pulls something like this”.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, offering him a small squeeze of support. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I know how hard this is for you”.

Jared leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious. “You can’t let her keep doing this, man. She’s dragging this out for control, not because she has a good reason. You’ve done everything you can to be fair”.

Jensen nodded, but his eyes were distant, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. “I just don’t know what else to do, man. I don’t want to make things worse for the kids”.

Jared sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get that. But you deserve to move on with your life too. She can’t keep you trapped like this forever”.

You sat there in silence for a moment, the three of you watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Jensen stared off into the distance, his expression unreadable, before he finally ran his hands roughly over his face, letting out a long breath. Then, without saying much, he stood up and held out his hand toward you.

“C'mon”, he mumbled, his voice low but insistent.

You looked up at him, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion, then glanced toward Jared, who gave you an equally puzzled look. “What?”, you asked quietly, unsure of what he had in mind.

“Just.. come”, Jensen urged again, wiggling his hand for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he was planning, but there was something in his eyes—a mix of determination and vulnerability—that made you reach for his hand without question. Little did you know, Jensen had something significant planned. He’d been holding onto a secret, undecided, but now, in this moment, it seemed like he was ready to show you something he hadn’t even mentioned yet-.

As you stood up, Jared, clearly intrigued, followed suit. “Hold up, I want in on this too”, Jared said, grinning as he stepped beside you and Jensen. “I mean, if it’s something dirty or crazy, I’m definitely not missing out”.

Jensen gave a small, exasperated smile, shaking his head slightly but not giving away any details. “Trust me, it’s neither. But you can come if you want”.

Jared feigned disappointment, crossing his arms in mock frustration. “Well, that’s a shame, but I’ll still tag along. Can’t have you two going off on some mysterious adventure without me”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Jared’s playful attitude, but your curiosity grew.

The three of you walked toward the driveway, and Jensen didn’t say much as he led you to your car, but his grip on your hand was steady, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Jared hopped into the backseat as Jensen opened the passenger door for you. Once you were all settled in the car, Jensen finally spoke up, his voice calm but a little uncertain.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about”, he began, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the driveway. “Something I haven’t told you yet”.

You stared at him, still puzzled by the silence. Jensen hadn’t said anything more since he’d mentioned having something on his mind, and with each passing second, your curiosity and anxiety grew. You could feel the weight of the unspoken words, but it was the uncertainty that really got to you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at Jared through the rearview mirror before turning back to Jensen, who was focused on the road.

“Just tell me, Jensen!”, you finally burst out, your voice a little more tense than you intended.

Deep down, a familiar fear had started to bubble up—one you had felt before, especially after the times Jensen had been slightly dismissive or distant following another argument with Danneel. The uncertainty always left you feeling like you were bracing for something worse, something you couldn’t control.

“Please”.

Jensen glanced over at you, his eyes soft but determined, as if he could feel the worry creeping into your thoughts. He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I want you to see it first”, he mumbled.

That didn’t help the knot in your stomach, but you tried to push the fear aside, trusting him. He wouldn’t lead you into something bad. He wouldn’t do that, right?

Jared, sensing the tension, leaned forward from the backseat and made an exaggerated groaning sound. “Man, you’re killing the suspense! If you’ve got some big secret, just spill it already. We’re dying here!". His teasing tone cut through the heaviness in the air, making you chuckle despite yourself.

Jensen shot him a quick look in the mirror, shaking his head again but with more amusement this time. “It’s not like that, Jared”, he said, though there was a slight grin on his face now. “Just be patient”.

You exhaled, trying to settle your nerves as the car continued down the road. Whatever this was, it had to be important, and Jensen’s tone didn’t carry the weight of something negative. But still, after everything with Danneel and the constant uncertainty of where things stood, it was hard not to let your mind wander to darker places.

"Don’t worry”, Jensen mumbled, though there was a slight nervousness in his voice that you couldn’t ignore. He placed his palm gently on your thigh, squeezing softly as his eyes flicked over to meet yours for just a moment before returning to the road. The brief glance was filled with reassurance, but there was still something in his expression—a vulnerability he hadn’t shown in a while.

You tried to relax, the warmth of his hand grounding you a little, though the tension still lingered at the back of your mind. You trusted him, but the unease from the past weeks, with Danneel’s constant presence in his life and the uncertainty about where everything was headed, made it hard to fully let go of the worry.

Jared, clearly sensing the unspoken tension, shifted in the backseat, trying to break the silence with his usual humor. “Well, whatever it is, it better be good, man. You’ve got the both of us on the edge of our seats here. If it’s not some grand romantic gesture, you’re in trouble”, he teased, winking at you in the rearview mirror.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, though it was clear his mind was still focused on whatever was coming next. “I think you’ll both like it”, he muttered, his voice softer now, as if he was gathering himself before revealing what he’d been holding back. His thumb traced light circles on your leg, an absentminded gesture that soothed your nerves just a little.

A few minutes later, Jensen turned down a quiet street, lined with trees that cast soft shadows on the road.

He continued down the private, tree-lined road. As the trees thickened, the houses became more secluded, each hidden behind dense foliage, with small, private driveways.

Jensen’s grip on your thigh tightened for just a moment before he turned into the driveway at the very end of the road. The tires crunched softly over the gravel as the car slowed to a stop in front of a beautiful, secluded house. It was large, but had a cozy, inviting feel to it. There were tall trees surrounding it, offering both shade and a sense of seclusion, making it feel like a hidden oasis tucked away from the rest of the world.

You stared at the house, a mix of surprise and awe filling you. It was stunning, with a modern but homey design—clean lines, big windows, and a porch that wrapped around the front, giving it a warm, welcoming feel.

Jensen turned off the engine and exhaled deeply, his hand slipping from your leg as he leaned back in his seat, glancing at you.

“I got the keys yesterday”, Jensen admitted, his voice quieter now. “I haven’t even taken a look inside yet. An old friend of mine did me a favor—said I could come by, take a look, see if it feels right”.

He opened his door, the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he stepped out. “Alright, kids, let’s get out”, he mumbled, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though the nerves were still there, evident in the way he kept flexing his hands.

You stared at Jensen, still not fully understanding what was happening. “What?”, you mumbled under your breath, feeling slightly out of the loop. Jared’s eyes, on the other hand, went wide with realization. Without a second thought, he stepped out of the car and gave Jensen a rough shove on the shoulder, catching you by surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”, Jared exclaimed, shoving him again, this time with even more excitement.

Jared’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it quickly became clear that whatever Jensen was revealing was big—bigger than you had initially thought. Jared, obviously thrilled at the prospect, looked like he couldn’t believe his buddy was moving back Austin.

Jensen just chuckled softly, sticking one hand into his jeans pocket and raising his other hand in a mock surrender. “I haven’t bought it yet”, he said, his voice calm but tinged with that same nervous energy that had been there earlier. The weight of the moment hung between you all.

You stepped around the car, your heart beating a little faster. “Bought?”, you asked quietly, the confusion in your voice giving way to realization. Jensen was talking about buying this house.

Jensen’s gaze softened when he looked at you, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. This was a huge step, one he clearly hadn’t expected to take so soon—or at least, not without talking to you first. “Yeah”, he admitted, his voice lowering as he took a breath. “I’ve been thinking about it. Moving back, finding something stable. And this place… I don’t know. It feels right. But I wanted you to see it first”.

Your heart skipped a beat at Jensen’s words. The idea of him moving back to Austin, especially so soon, wasn’t something you’d fully wrapped your head around. And now, standing here in front of this beautiful house, he was asking for your opinion, your involvement in the decision. The weight of it all hit you at once—this wasn’t just about a house. This was about him wanting to build a life with you.

You looked up at him, still trying to process what this all meant. “You really want me to help you decide? You want me to… move in with you?”. The question slipped out quietly, almost as if you were afraid to ask it, unsure if it was too soon to even think about something so serious.

Jensen’s gaze softened even more, and though he was clearly nervous, his determination never wavered. “Yeah”, he mumbled, his voice low but steady. “I can’t buy it until the divorce is finalized, but no matter what happens, I’d love to come back to Austin. To start fresh… With you”.

The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, making your heart race. He wasn’t just talking about the house—he was talking about a life, a future, one where the chaos of everything with Danneel and the divorce could finally be behind him, behind you both.

You blinked, glancing between him and the house, the realization settling in. “You really want this?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen nodded, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “I do”, he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “I want this for us. I know things are complicated right now, but this… this feels right. I want to build something here. Somewhere that feels like home”.

Your heart swelled with emotions—hope, love, fear, all swirling together. The thought of making such a huge step, of really committing to this new chapter with him, was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But there was no denying the way your heart responded to his words. You wanted it too, even if the idea scared you.

Jared, standing to the side with his arms crossed, broke the moment with a playful grin. “Man, you’re really going all in, huh?”. He nudged Jensen with his elbow. “But hey, if you’re coming back to Austin, you know I’ve got your back”.

Jensen chuckled, though the nervousness hadn’t fully left him. “I can’t buy anything until the divorce is finalized, but I’m ready to make the move".

You looked back at Jensen, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “What if things with Danneel get worse?”, you asked quietly, the lingering fears bubbling to the surface. “What if she makes it harder for you?”.

“No matter what Danneel does, I’m moving forward. I’m not letting her hold me back anymore. I want to come back to Austin, and I want you with me”.

He was choosing you—choosing a life where you were central to his future, despite the uncertainty.

You took a deep breath, the emotions swirling inside you almost too much to handle. Despite everything Jensen had said, the weight of the decision still lingered. You wanted to be absolutely sure, to hear him say it again, to erase any doubts that might still be lingering in the back of your mind.

“Jensen”, you whispered, your voice wavering slightly, “are you really sure? Do you really want me to move in with you?”.

For a moment, he just looked at you, and then, to your surprise, a wide grin spread across his face. He rolled his eyes in that playful way that told you he wasn’t annoyed, just amused by your persistence. “You´re for real right now?”, he asked, his tone light but full of affection. “How many times do I have to say it?”.

He squeezed your hand again, pulling you closer until you were standing almost chest to chest. “I want this, alright? I want you. I want us. This isn’t just some spur-of-the-moment decision”. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ve thought about it, and yes, I want you to move in with me. I want to build a life together here. You’re a part of my future, no matter what happens”.

The warmth in his words made your heart race, and for a moment, everything else—the divorce, the uncertainties, the complications—seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Jensen, standing there in front of this house that could very well become your home.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, laughing softly at your own emotions. “Okay”, you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want this too”.

Jensen’s grin only grew wider as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring, “Good, because I’m not doing this without you”.

Jared, who had been standing to the side, watching the whole thing unfold with a soft smile on his face, finally spoke up. “Alright, lovebirds”, he teased, clapping his hands together. “Are we gonna check out this house or what? Because I’m dying to see it”.

You both laughed, and Jensen loosened his grip on you, his hand still firmly holding yours as he nodded toward the front door. “Let’s take a look inside”, he said, his tone lighter now, filled with excitement.

And with that, the three of you walked toward the front door, stepping into what could be the start of a new chapter—a home, a future, and a life together.

Jensen led you and Jared through the large front door, and as soon as you stepped inside, the house took your breath away.

The entrance opened into a grand foyer with towering ceilings and polished, dark wood floors that gleamed under the soft, natural light filtering in from the oversized windows. The walls were a warm shade of cream, and the space exuded a modern yet welcoming feel. Above you, a large wrought-iron chandelier hung, casting soft light that filled the room.

Immediately to your right, a formal dining room stood, framed by large archways and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in abundant sunlight. The dining table was modern and sleek, made from rich, dark wood, with plush, cream-colored chairs. French doors led out to the side yard, offering a private outdoor dining space.

The heart of the house was the expansive living room, which flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. This open-concept space had a stunning blend of modern luxury and comfortable design. The living room had towering windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, giving you a clear view of the stunning backyard and the Colorado River just beyond. The focal point of the room was a modern stone fireplace, embedded into a wall of rich wood paneling, and surrounded by a large L-shaped couch with oversized, plush cushions.

Above, the gallery on the second floor overlooked the living room, creating an impressive open space that felt both expansive and connected. The high ceilings, clean lines, and modern furnishings gave the room a sense of understated elegance.

The kitchen was a damn dream. With sleek, custom cabinetry painted in a soft dove gray and expansive white quartz countertops, it was both practical and beautiful. A large island sat at the center, big enough for several people to gather around with its high-top barstools. The island was topped with a waterfall edge, the quartz cascading down the sides in a beautiful, smooth finish. The appliances were top-of-the-line stainless steel, seamlessly integrated into the cabinetry, and there was huge stove, double ovens, and a built-in wine fridge.

The kitchen flowed into a cozy breakfast nook, complete with a round table that looked out through large windows to the backyard.

And what a backyard it was.

Through the oversized glass doors, you stepped out onto a wide stone patio that extended the entire length of the house. There was an outdoor kitchen with a built-in grill, sink, and refrigerator. The patio opened up into an immaculately landscaped backyard. A sparkling pool was the centerpiece, with its sleek, modern design framed by stone and shaded by large oak trees. The pool had a built-in hot tub that flowed seamlessly into the main swimming area, the water cascading over the edges in a gentle, soothing sound.

Near the pool, a stone fireplace sat surrounded by a circle of comfortable outdoor lounge chairs, creating a cozy space for gatherings on cooler evenings. Beyond the perfectly manicured lawn, you could see the Colorado River glimmering in the sunlight. A small path led down to a private pier, where a few lounge chairs and a small dock were set up. It was the perfect place for fishing, launching a kayak, or just sitting by the water, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

As you made your way back inside, Jensen led you upstairs to the second floor. The gallery overlooked the living room and kitchen below, and the sleek iron railing contrasted beautifully with the rich wood floors. Upstairs, there were four spacious bedrooms, each designed with large windows that brought in natural light. The master bedroom was the best, with a private balcony that offered sweeping views of the backyard and the river. Inside the master bedroom, there was an oversized walk-in closet with built-in shelving and enough space for even the most elaborate wardrobe.

The bathroom was pure luxury, with a deep soaking tub set beneath a large window that looked out onto the treetops, offering a serene view. The large walk-in shower was framed in glass, with modern tile and a rainfall showerhead.

Two of the additional bedrooms shared a bathroom, each with its own vanity area but connected by a shared shower and tub. The fourth bedroom had its own private bathroom, perfect for guests or a teenager seeking a bit of privacy.

Downstairs, there was another guest bedroom with a private bathroom, ensuring that any visitors would have their own space. The laundry room was large and functional, with plenty of counter space for folding clothes, built-in cabinets for storage, and a deep sink. It was tucked away in a quiet corner of the house, making it both convenient and out of sight.

The house was a perfect blend of modern luxury and comfortable living. It felt like a home designed not just for show but for a life filled with love, family, and friends. The balance of open, inviting spaces and private, cozy areas made it ideal for both intimate moments and large gatherings.

Jensen walked behind you as you wandered through the house, your eyes soaking in every detail. His hand rested gently on the small of your back, a reassuring presence as you moved from one room to the next. You could feel his anticipation, the way he waited for your reaction with every step, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

As you reached the spacious living room, you stopped for a moment, taking in the incredible view of the backyard and the river beyond. It was perfect—almost too perfect, like something out of a dream. The kind of house that felt like it could hold so much life, so much love. You turned back to Jensen, and he was already watching you, his eyes searching yours for some kind of affirmation.

“What do you think?”, he asked quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of nerves and hope.

You blinked, your mind racing as you tried to put your feelings into words. It wasn’t just about the house—it was about the life he was offering you, the future he was imagining for the two of you. And that future was starting to look more real, more tangible, with every step you took through this house.

“It’s…”, you paused, trying to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the gravity of it all. “It’s beautiful, Jensen. I mean, it’s perfect. I don’t even know what to say”.

Jensen’s face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I wanted something that felt right for us”, he said, his hand still resting on your back. “Somewhere we can build a life. And… I wanted you to be part of that decision. I didn’t want to do this without you”.

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you realize just how serious he was about this—about you. You turned to fully face him, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

Jensen's gaze softened even more, the nervousness giving way to something deeper—an earnest vulnerability. He stepped closer, his hand brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as he spoke, his voice quiet but filled with intent.

“Even though I can’t buy it just yet”, he began, his thumb gently tracing your cheek, “if you like it—if you can see us here—I’ll take a hold on it. I want this place to be ours, but only if you can see it too”.

You felt your heart skip a beat. The house was beautiful, but it was more than just a place—it was a symbol of everything he wanted to build with you. The life you both dreamed of but hadn’t quite dared to fully imagine until now. His words hung in the air between you, charged with the weight of what this meant for your future.

You looked around once more, taking in the expansive living room, the warm sunlight filtering in through the tall windows, the view of the Colorado River in the distance. It was everything you could have imagined, and more. But what made it truly perfect wasn’t just the house itself, but the idea of sharing it with him—building a life here, together.

“I can see us here”, you whispered, turning back to him, your voice thick with emotion.

Jensen’s face lit up, his relief and happiness so palpable that it made your heart swell even more. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and you could feel the tension he had been holding onto melt away.

“Then I’ll make sure it happens”, he murmured against your skin, his arms wrapping around you. “I’ll put a hold on it. This will be our home, I promise”.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his words, your heart racing with excitement and love. The future suddenly felt less scary and more like a promise—one you were both ready to keep.

As the moment between you and Jensen hung in the air, Jared, who had been lingering quietly in the background, finally decided it was time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat dramatically, stepping into the living room with an exaggerated grin plastered on his face.

“Well”, Jared began, clapping his hands together with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Look at you two, playing house already. I knew I was tagging along for something juicy”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jared’s playful tone, while Jensen rolled his eyes, clearly anticipating the teasing that was about to come.

Jared walked around the room, spreading his arms wide as he admired the house. “I mean, this place is ridiculous. I’m talking perfect. You guys will have to fight me to keep me from moving in. I can already see myself in that pool, cocktail in hand. You’ll never get rid of me!”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, well, if you show up uninvited, I’ll be sure to have the pool drained”, he teased, earning a chuckle from you.

Jared put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Oh, come on! That’s no way to treat your future houseguest slash best man slash live-in nanny for the kids”, he joked, winking at you.

Jensen chuckled at Jared’s antics, but the lightness in his laugh was fleeting. You could sense the shift in his mood as the reality of everything else weighing on him began to creep back in. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing between you and Jared before letting out a soft sigh.

“There’s something I haven’t mentioned yet”, Jensen started, his voice a little more serious now. “Danneel’s been talking about moving back to Austin too, once we sell the house in Fairfield”.

You could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, the uncertainty of the situation hanging in the air.

Jensen glanced at you, his hand finding yours as if he needed that grounding connection. “But.. Even if she doesn’t move back here, though… I’ll figure it out. I’ll move here no matter what. I want to be close to the kids, and to you”, he added, his eyes softening as they met yours. “But if the worst-case scenario happens and she decides to move somewhere else entirely, I’ll find a way to make it work. I’m not going to let her or the situation keep me from living where I want to be, and who I want to be with”.

You felt a wave of relief mixed with the weight of the situation. The fact that Jensen was so determined to move forward, to make Austin home, was reassuring, but you could also sense the strain of it all—the endless negotiations with Danneel, the logistics of parenting, and how it all weighed heavily on his shoulders.

You and Jensen took one last slow walk around the house. The house, with its stunning design and the potential it held for a new beginning, suddenly felt even more significant.

Jensen’s hand remained firmly on your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles as the two of you stepped out into the backyard. The sound of the river flowing softly in the distance mixed with the quiet rustling of the trees. The setting sun cast a golden glow across the landscape, making everything feel peaceful for just a moment.

As you reached the edge of the yard, standing by the path that led down to the private pier, Jensen stopped, turning toward you with a contemplative look on his face. He pulled you close to his side, wrapping his arm securely around you as you leaned against him.

“I know it’s a lot to take in”, he murmured, his voice soft. “But I want you to know that no matter what happens, this is where I want to be—with you”.

You looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. There was still so much uncertainty with Danneel, the kids, and the logistics of everything, but in this moment, all that mattered was the decision you were making together.

Jensen pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he needed the closeness. “We’ll make this work”, he whispered against your hair. “Whatever it takes”.

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. “I believe you”, you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

Jared, who had been quietly watching from the patio, finally broke the silence with a lighthearted chuckle. “Alright, are we done with the heartfelt stuff? Because I’m getting emotional over here”.

As the three of you walked back toward the car, Jensen kept his arm around you, his presence steady and reassuring. Jared kept a light atmosphere as he teased you both, but there was an unspoken understanding between all of you.

Once you all settled back into the car, Jensen started driving, the familiar sound of the engine humming as you headed back to Jared’s place. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows on the road, but inside the car, the mood was light.

Jensen glanced at Jared through the rearview mirror as they drove, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So, you told Gen about me and her?”, he asked, keeping his voice casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind it. He wanted to know how much Jared’s wife knew.

Jared grinned in the mirror, clearly enjoying the shift in conversation. “Oh, you mean have I told Gen that you’ve finally got your head out of your ass and found someone who’s way too good for you?”, Jared teased, his tone light but affectionate.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that”.

Jared leaned back in his seat. “Of course I’ve told her”, he said, more seriously now. “She’s happy for you, man. She’s always rooting for you. But you know she’ll want to meet her again”. He nodded toward you with a grin. “Sooner rather than later”. His grin widening as he continued, "Gen knew something was up from the beginning. Right at my birthday party". He gave a knowing glance to Jensen through the rearview mirror, clearly amused by the memory.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, but he already seemed to know where Jared was going with this. "Oh yeah?", he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Dude, Gen figured it out that night. I mean, come on—since when do either of us invite a random person we met while buying alcohol for a party?". He shot you a wink, his grin widening. "You weren’t just some random guest. Gen clocked it right away, knew there was something going on".

You chuckled softly at Jared’s playful tone, feeling both flattered and slightly embarrassed at the revelation. You hadn’t realized that it was so obvious from the start, but Jared clearly had a knack for reading people, and it seemed like his wife was just as perceptive.

Jensen laughed, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the road. “I thought I was being subtle”.

Jared let out a scoff. “Subtle? Please. You guys had the whole ‘secret glances across the room’ thing going on. Gen saw right through it”. He paused for a moment before adding, more seriously, “And honestly? She wasn’t surprised. She knew for years that things with you and Danneel weren’t working. It was only a matter of time”.

There was a quiet shift in the car after that. Jensen’s expression softened, and you could feel the weight of those words settle in. Jared wasn’t wrong. Jensen’s marriage with Danneel had been rocky for a long time, and now, as everything was coming to a head, it felt like a natural, if difficult, progression.

Jared leaned forward again, his tone more thoughtful now. “Gen’s always said that you deserve to be happy, man. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve worked to make things right with Danneel, but sometimes… it just doesn’t work out. And that’s okay. The important thing is that you’re doing what’s best for you, and now… well, you’ve found someone who makes you happy”.

Jensen glanced over at you for a brief moment, his hand squeezing yours gently before returning to the wheel. "Yeah", he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. "I have".

Jared’s grin returned, and he leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with how the conversation had gone. “Just don’t screw it up, man”, he teased lightly.

As December rolled into town, the colder morning outside was forgotten in the warmth of your shared bed. You lay on your stomach, feeling the soft sheets beneath you, tangled around your legs, while Jensen hovered above you, his body radiating heat. He was slightly between your legs, his hands gripping the mattress tightly on either side of your head as his lips moved lazily down your bare lower back. His touch was soft but firm, sending tingles up your spine as he explored every inch of your skin.

His hips brushed against your buttcheek, and just as his teeth gently bit down, causing you to giggle softly, the sound of his phone rang, shattering the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen groaned against your skin, his forehead coming to rest against the small of your back as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course", he mumbled, the frustration clear in his voice.

You couldn't help but smile, turning your head slightly to glance at him. "You going to get that?", you teased, your voice still breathy from the closeness of the moment.

He huffed, his lips brushing against your back one last time before he lifted himself off you, reaching toward the bedside table where his phone buzzed insistently. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly.

"It's probably something that can wait", Jensen said, sounding more annoyed than concerned, his thumb hovering over the decline button. He looked at you, his lips curling into a small, mischievous grin as he leaned down again, his lips ghosting over your shoulder.

You turned your head back into the pillow, chuckling. "Are you sure?", you asked, knowing how quickly things could shift, especially with all that had been going on in his life lately.

Jensen hesitated for a moment longer before finally pulling back again, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. "Yeah, it's nothing that can't wait", he murmured.

His hands slid back down to your hips, his body resuming its position above yours, the closeness and warmth between you quickly reigniting the spark of intimacy. "Now, where were we?", he asked, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzled the back of your neck, his hips pressing closer to yours.

You giggled softly, your body relaxing back into the moment, the world outside once again fading away.

As the quiet moment stretched on, Jensen's closeness grew more intense. You felt the firm pressure of his arousal against you. His breath was warm against your ear, his groans soft but laden with need as he kissed along your neck, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jensen's hands gripped your hips gently, his movements deliberate as he pressed closer. His lips traced a path from your neck down to your shoulder, each kiss deepening the connection that the morning laziness had already fostered.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, seeing in his eyes a mix of affection and desire that mirrored your own feelings.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of heat as you pressed yourself back against Jensen, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt natural and intoxicating. His soft groans in response made your heart race, the tension between you building with every touch, every movement.

But then, his phone rang again, the sound breaking through the intimacy of the moment like an unwelcome intruder. Jensen groaned in frustration this time, burying his face in the curve of your neck as the phone continued to buzz insistently.

“Seriously?”, he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. He kissed your shoulder before sighing deeply, clearly reluctant to let go of the moment.

You giggled softly, feeling his irritation, but part of you was just as frustrated. “You should probably get that”, you whispered, your voice a mix of amusement and disappointment.

Jensen sighed again, reluctantly lifting himself off you, his hand brushing your back one last time before he reached for his phone on the nightstand. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted from annoyance to something more serious.

He hesitated for a second, his fingers hovering over the screen before he finally answered. "Yeah?", he said, his tone immediately changing, more alert now.

As much as you wanted to stay lost in the moment with him, you could sense the shift. Something was happening.

While Jensen continued talking with his manager, you tried to quietly slip out of bed, swinging one leg over his hips, intending to get up and make some much-needed coffee. You’d spent way too long in bed, lost in each other, kissing, teasing, and now the morning sun was filtering in through the curtains.

But just as you started to move, Jensen’s hand shot out, gripping your thigh firmly. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and you froze in place, one leg still draped over him, the other half out of bed. His hand brushed up to your hipbone, fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. He pulled you gently closer to him, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as your body followed his lead, your most intimate part mere inches from his face.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with amusement, a slow grin spreading across his lips as he watched you, fully aware of how flustered you had become. His phone was still pressed to his ear, his voice steady and composed as he continued the conversation with his manager. But his free hand was anything but composed. It moved deliberately, fingers brushing over your hip, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin.

Your heart raced as his thumb began to trace slow circles near your clit, the touch almost too light to be real, yet sending waves of electricity through you. You blushed furiously, your breath catching in your throat. The contrast between the casual way he spoke on the phone and the intimate attention he was giving you sent your mind into a whirlwind of sensation and anticipation.

Jensen's grin widened as he noticed your reaction, his thumb pressing just a little harder, brushing directly over your clit. He kept his eyes on you, his gaze dark with desire, even as he continued speaking in that smooth, calm tone, completely in control of the situation while you were quickly losing yours. The combination of his teasing touch and his playful, confident grin made it impossible for you to think clearly.

Every nerve in your body was attuned to his touch, and as his thumb continued to move in slow, deliberate circles, you could feel your body responding despite the presence of his phone conversation. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was a losing battle.

As you hovered over Jensen’s chest, your breath shallow, you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. He licked his lips, his gaze flickering between your flushed face and the intimate space between your legs.

Without breaking eye contact, Jensen dipped his thumb inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes darkening with desire. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, your body reacting instantly to his teasing.

Jensen’s lips curled into a grin as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

His thumb moved with a purpose, circling and retreating in a way that was maddeningly perfect. Each motion was calculated to draw out the moment, to intensify your desire without granting the final release.

As you struggled to maintain composure, the sound of Jensen's voice mingled with the sensations he was eliciting. He continued his conversation with his manager, his tone professional despite the intimate situation. "Yes, I've reviewed the schedule for January", he said, his voice steady. "We need to ensure that the production aligns with my current…. commitments. Can we possibly push the filming start by a week?".

His manager’s response was inaudible, but Jensen's slight nod indicated he was listening intently. "Understood", Jensen replied after a moment. "But let's try to negotiate for a bit more flexibility. It's crucial that the dates don't clash".

Throughout the call, Jensen’s thumb paused occasionally, his attention momentarily splitting between you and his professional obligations. Each pause left you anticipating more, the slow burn of need growing with each second of delay.

"Alright, send me the revised schedule once you've had that conversation", Jensen finally said, concluding the call. As he set his phone aside, his full attention returned to you. His grin broadened, aware of the intense state he'd left you in.

"Sorry about that", he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "Let´s get to the important thing". His thumb resumed its slow, deliberate dance, pushing you closer to the brink this time, his gaze locked on yours, reading every reaction, every tremor that coursed through you.

"Focus can be a tricky thing, can't it?", Jensen teased, his words a velvet caress that matched the physical ones. His touch became slightly more insistent, promising that he was now fully present, committed to taking you all the way.

An hour later, the morning had settled into a comfortable rhythm. You sat at your small kitchen island, eating your bowl of cereal, the soft clinking of your spoon against the bowl the only sound in the quiet space. Jensen stood nearby, leaning casually against the counter, a mug of coffee in one hand while his other scrolled through emails on his phone. Every now and then, he'd glance at something on the screen, his brow furrowing slightly as he responded to work-related messages.

Despite the quiet, there was an easy, intimate vibe between the two of you. Occasionally, Jensen would lean over toward you, wordlessly opening his mouth as if expecting you to offer him a spoonful of your cereal. You chuckled at his unspoken request, shaking your head but obliging him nonetheless. You scooped up a bit of cereal and brought the spoon to his mouth, which he took with a playful grin.

"You're like a child sometimes", you teased, rolling your eyes as he chewed thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the bite.

"Well, you picked a good cereal", Jensen quipped, his voice casual, though there was a soft affection in his tone. He took another sip of his coffee, his eyes returning to his phone, though you could tell he wasn’t completely absorbed in work—there was still a lightness about him that hinted he was still mentally with you.

"So, anything exciting in your emails?", you asked, resting your chin in your hand, watching him as he scrolled through his inbox.

"Just more scheduling", Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Trying to make sure everything’s set for January when filming starts again. There’s always something". He put his phone down for a moment and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "But I’d rather be here with you than thinking about work".

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It was these little moments that made everything feel so easy and real between the two of you—simple mornings like this, where the world outside the kitchen didn't matter much.

"Well, if you keep stealing my cereal, you’ll definitely be here a while", you joked, pushing the bowl slightly toward him.

Jensen chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, then". He took another sip of coffee, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer, the weight of his words settling between you both in a way that was both reassuring and meaningful.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 32

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[cheynovak]

Sweetheart - Part 2

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character     

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Weeks had passed since that night, but the kiss with Jensen lingered in my mind like a song stuck on repeat. I couldn’t shake it, the way it made me feel—like that teenage girl all over again, falling hopelessly in love for the first time. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel the warmth of his lips, the tenderness in his touch, and the familiar flutter in my chest.

In a moment of nostalgia, I found myself digging through old photo albums, hoping to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions I couldn’t quite shake. Flipping through the pages, I paused when I found them—our prom pictures.

I stared at the photo, my fingers lightly brushing over it. There I was, standing next to Jensen in that long, flowy dress I had spent weeks picking out. He looked so young, his suit slightly too big, but his smile was everything. I looked up at him with stars in my eyes, my love for him written all over my face. My heart ached as I realized just how deep those feelings had run back then, how simple everything had seemed.

In that picture, I looked so in love, my eyes sparkling with hope, and Jensen—he had always looked at me like I was his world. A part of me wondered if he still cared.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from the haze of memories that had consumed me. I looked up from the bed, where I’d been sitting with the old photo album spread across my lap, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number.

*Hi, I hope you don't mind. I asked around to find your number. I really hope I didn’t scare you off the other night. Maybe we can still be friends? J.*

The moment I read his words, my stomach fluttered. Butterflies danced in my chest, and I could picture him so clearly, standing there with that boyish nervousness, hand rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of how I’d respond. Just like he had done the very first time he came up to me in high school.

I could still see it—us in the school yard. Jensen and I had been stealing glances at each other for days, neither of us bold enough to make the first move. His friends had practically pushed him toward me, egging him on, while mine giggled behind me, watching the whole scene unfold.

I remembered how he fumbled for words at first, clearly nervous, but the second our eyes met, everything else fell away. He’d made me laugh with some awkward joke, and from that moment, it all just clicked. That was where it had started—those small, tentative steps toward each other, the way his nerves melted into charm, and how, before we knew it, we were inseparable.

And now, after all these years, there was that same feeling. I texted back, *" I'd love to be friends! Hope to run into you soon."*

His response came almost immediately: *"Why wait for fate again? How about tomorrow?"*

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. That was fast. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I typed, *"Name the place, and time."* A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again, this time with an address.

I didn’t think much of it until I arrived. It wasn’t just any spot—it was our place. By the lake. The place we’d spent countless hours during summer, the place where we’d shared so many memories. My heart clenched as I stepped out of the car and saw him standing there, the sun beginning to set behind him, casting a warm glow on the water.

As I walked toward him, my breath caught in my throat. Jensen had changed, undeniably so. He wasn’t the lanky boy I once knew. His shoulders had broadened, his posture more confident, and his beard was neatly trimmed. God, he looked handsome. The years had been kind to him in ways that made my stomach flutter all over again.

But his smile—that hadn’t changed. It was the same easy, boyish grin that had always made me feel like I was the only person in the world. He took a step toward me, and for a moment, everything felt like it had slipped back into place, like no time had passed at all.

As he leaned in, I saw it. The flash of white gold. His wedding ring.

My heart dropped into my stomach, and instinctively, I turned my head, offering my cheek instead. His lips grazed my skin, warm and soft, but that one small gesture felt like a wall going up between us.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the sudden weight in my chest. “Hey,” I said, my voice steady even though my mind was racing.

Jensen pulled back, his own expression faltering for a second, as if realizing the same thing I had at the last moment. “Hi,” he replied, his voice soft, almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

The silence between us stretched for a moment, the lake's quiet lapping against the shore the only sound. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was different. Everything was different. And yet, despite it all, the connection between us still lingered, fragile but undeniable.

After the silence settled between us, Jensen suddenly started to laugh. His deep, familiar chuckle broke through the tension, and I couldn’t help but smile, even though my heart was still racing.

“What’s up?” I asked, glancing up at him, curious.

He shook his head, grinning. “I just remembered that time you accidentally pushed me into the lake. You were so freaked out that you offered to buy me hot cocoa because you felt so guilty.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at the memory, warmth spreading through my chest. “Yeah... And you paid for it behind my back.” I looked down at my feet, feeling the nostalgia wash over me, tugging at both my heart and my nerves.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile softening as he looked at me, but then the silence returned. This time, it felt heavier, like the weight of everything unsaid was pressing down on us.

I swallowed, bracing myself before I spoke again. “J, what are we doing here?” My voice was quieter, but steady. I didn’t mean *here* as in this spot by the lake. We both knew I meant something deeper, us. Whatever was happening between us now.

His smile faded slightly as he looked at me, his expression turning serious. He knew exactly what I was asking. His gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. Jensen shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves—it was hesitation, uncertainty.

He sighed, glancing at the lake before meeting my eyes again. "I don’t know," he admitted softly. "I guess I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. About what we had... and what could’ve been."

Hearing him say that out loud made my heart twist. “But you’re married, J,” I whispered, not wanting to break the delicate moment, but needing to be real. “We can’t pretend that doesn’t matter.”

“I know.” His voice was filled with regret, but there was something more there—an ache, like he wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings that had clearly resurfaced between us. “I just—seeing you again, it’s made me realize how much I miss… this. You. Us.”

I looked at him, feeling torn. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment as I gathered the courage to admit what had been swirling in my mind for weeks. “I looked at our old pictures,” I said softly. “High school, prom… all of it. I guess I miss us too.”

Jensen turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine briefly before drifting back out over the lake. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile, and for a moment, I could see the memories flashing in his eyes.

“Prom night,” he murmured, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “That was a great night.”

I nodded, the memory vivid in my mind—the music, the laughter, the way he held me like we were the only two people in the world. But before I could say anything more, Jensen spoke again.

“I remember what you wore that night,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the water as if he was pulling the image from the depths of his memory. “That blue dress. You looked incredible. I couldn’t stop staring at you the entire night.”

Jensen’s eyes sparkled as he described the outfit you wore to prom. I could see him picturing every detail.

"The fabric of the dress hugged your figure perfectly, the soft flow of it as you moved, and how the color made you stand out under the dim prom lights." And then he added "Your hair… you had it up, right? All messy and beautiful.”

I nodded, biting my lip as I remembered the exact moment. " Simple, soft curls, lose curls or two framing your face, beautiful" He’d complimented me back then too, and I could still hear his words in my mind as if they were said just yesterday.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole night,” Jensen confessed quietly, his voice filled with the same affection from all those years ago.

I looked at him, watching the way he was lost in the memory, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I blinked, caught off guard by how easily he recalled every detail. “You remember that?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, how could I forget? You were… perfect.”

I bit my lip, warmth flooding my chest as I watched him, the sunset casting a soft glow over his face. The way he spoke, the way he remembered, made me feel like we were back there again, dancing under the stars like nothing else mattered.

Jensen’s gaze softened as he continued, his eyes locked on the lake but his mind clearly elsewhere—back in time. “You know,” he said slowly, almost as if he was still savoring the memory, “when I saw you that night… I don’t think I’ve ever felt more nervous in my life.”

I raised my brow, surprised. “You? Nervous?”

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah. You looked... perfect. That blue dress, it wasn’t just the color—it was how you wore it, how you moved. You were so confident, so beautiful, I didn’t know what to do with myself. All I could think was, *Don’t screw this up, Jensen.*” He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if still teasing his younger self.

His smile faded slightly as he grew more reflective. “I remember how the room practically disappeared when you walked in. Everyone was there, but all I could see was you." He paused, looking at me with that familiar glint in his eyes.

"You were laughing about something with your friends when I walked up with pur drinks. I couldn’t even think of anything to say. I just stood there, completely stunned, and you—God, you smiled at me, and it was like... nothing else mattered.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as he spoke, every word carrying more weight than I expected. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” I whispered.

Jensen shrugged, his gaze still far off. “I wasn’t good at showing it back then. But that night... I knew I was in love with you. I was already falling, but when I saw you like that? I was gone. I spent the whole night trying to find excuses to... to touch you, to be close. It was like I couldn’t breathe unless you were right there next to me.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his words. He was opening up in a way that was both tender and heartbreaking. His voice lowered as he added, “When we danced, I remember thinking... This is it. You were the only thing that mattered in that room, in that moment, in my whole damn world.”

I looked at him, searching his face, realizing that this wasn't just some old high school memory to him. It was something he had held onto, just as I had.

He glanced over at me, his expression vulnerable, like he was trying to find the right words to explain how deeply those moments had stuck with him.

I smiled softly at the memory, looking down at my feet as the words tumbled out. “I remember how most of my friends went off with their dates to some cheap motel after prom... but you didn’t.”

Jensen smirked, the playful edge in his voice making me glance up at him. “Trust me, I wanted to,” he admitted, the honesty in his tone catching me off guard. His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and affection, but I could tell he wasn’t just talking about the physical desire. It was deeper than that.

“Yet, you didn’t,” I said, my voice softer now, recalling that night in vivid detail. “Instead, you drove us here.” I gestured toward the lake, the exact same spot we were standing in now. “We laid under the stars, kissing, talking... just holding me.”

He nodded, his smirk fading into something more tender. “Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes softening as they met mine. “I didn’t need anything else that night. You were everything.”

I could feel my heart swell as the memory flooded back. The way the cool night breeze had danced over our skin, the sound of the lake lapping gently at the shore, and the stars—so many stars—hanging above us like tiny specks of light, illuminating that perfect moment.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft, cool breeze in its wake. I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the slight chill. Jensen, noticing my discomfort, walked over to his truck, parked just a few feet away with the tailgate facing the lake. Without a word, he opened the back, rummaging around until he pulled out a blanket.

He patted the back of the truck, motioning for me to sit. I hesitated for a moment, but then climbed up, perching on the edge. The cold metal of the truck’s surface sent a shiver through me, but before I could say anything, Jensen was standing right in front of me. Eye to eye now, the closeness made my heart race.

Without a word, he gently draped the blanket over my shoulders, his hands brushing against my skin, sending a wave of warmth through me. “Don’t want you to get sick on my watch,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with that familiar care. The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine—not from the cold, but from the feeling of being so close to him again.

I could only stare up at him, taking in every detail of his face. The way his jawline was more defined now, the faintest traces of freckles still visible, and those eyes—just as green and mesmerizing as they were all those years ago. My breath hitched slightly as his gaze held mine, filled with something unspoken.

There was a tenderness in the way he looked at me, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed between us. Like we were still those two kids, wrapped up in each other, the world falling away around us. The lake, the stars, the silence—it was all there, but the only thing I could focus on was him.

Jensen’s fingers lingered on the blanket for a second longer than necessary, as if he didn’t want to break the moment. His touch was warm, reassuring, and I found myself lost in the feel of it.

“You always took care of me,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Jensen’s lips curled into a soft smile. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his lips, memories of every kiss we'd ever shared rushing back to me in waves. The tension between us crackled, making the cool night air feel electric. His hand moved slowly, deliberately, brushing against my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. The touch was so tender, like he was afraid I might disappear if he moved too fast.

Then, before I could even process what was happening, his lips were on mine. Soft, hesitant. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t push forward either, waiting for my reaction, giving me space. It was just a whisper of a kiss, almost like he was testing the waters, feeling the way things still hung between us after all this time.

A second kiss followed, still light but with a little more certainty, and by the third, something shifted. My nerves—strung tight ever since we met again—began to calm, and I leaned into him, allowing myself to fall into the familiarity of it. It was like muscle memory, like our bodies remembered each other in ways our minds had tried to forget.

By the fourth kiss, everything else faded away. His lips parted slightly, a silent question, asking for permission without words. On instinct, I answered, my mouth opening to meet his, and suddenly I was 15 again, feeling that same nervous excitement that had coursed through me the very first time we kissed. My heart pounded, and for a moment, it felt like time had folded in on itself, bringing us right back to the start.

It was different now, though. Deeper. More layered. The years we’d spent apart, the lives we’d lived, everything that had changed between us—it all melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of us, tangled in something that felt both impossibly new and achingly familiar.

I didn’t know where this was going, or if it even could go anywhere, but right now, all I cared about was the feel of his lips on mine, his hands holding me like they had always belonged there.

Like I had always belonged with him.

-- Eh guys... I think I need a part 3 to wrap it up. What do y'all think? --

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[moonselune]

Shadowzel + Xan | Hatchling no more

This was a request sent by @longjohnsilverfish but I had a mad moment and hated what I wrote so I deleted the whole thing, not realising that it would delete the ask itself - whoops, anyway, enjoy!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xan carefully eased the window open, wincing as it let out a faint creak. His heart pounded in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder, making sure Shadowheart and Lae'zel were still asleep. The house was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Confident he hadn’t been heard, he hoisted himself out, landing lightly on the grass below.

He stood still for a moment, listening, then grinned to himself. Another successful escape. He had been sneaking out for weeks now to see his girlfriend, and while he knew it was risky, the thrill of it made his heart race even faster.

Just as he turned to run toward the meeting spot, a dark figure stepped into his path. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. Even before his eyes could fully adjust, he recognized the imposing silhouette.

"Ma," he muttered under his breath. His mother stood there, arms crossed, her fierce yellow eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Going somewhere, hatchling?" Lae'zel’s voice was low, filled with the kind of authority that left no room for argument.

Xan scrambled to back away, his mind racing for excuses, but before he could form a coherent thought, he bumped into something—or rather, someone. Slowly, he turned his head and felt his stomach drop as his mama, Shadowheart, stood behind him, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

Trapped between his two mothers, Xan knew lying was futile. His pulse raced as he opened his mouth, trying to salvage the situation.

"I… I was just getting some fresh air?" he stammered, though even he knew how weak the excuse sounded. Lae'zel narrowed her eyes at him, while Shadowheart gave him a look that was half concern, half disappointment.

"Fresh air? At this hour?" Shadowheart asked, her tone skeptical. Xan sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

"Alright, fine," he admitted. "I’ve been sneaking out… to see someone. My girlfriend."

There was a moment of tense silence, and Xan braced himself for the reprimand that was surely coming. Lae'zel’s stern expression didn’t falter, though there was a glint of something else in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps. Shadowheart, however, crossed her arms tighter, her lips thinning into a line.

"How long?" Shadowheart asked, her voice sharp. "How long have you been sneaking around behind our backs?"

"Only a few weeks," Xan said quickly, holding up his hands. "It’s not what you think! She’s not bad, or—"

"You are young," Lae'zel interrupted, her voice steady but intense. "Too young to be sneaking out in the dead of night. And too foolish to think you could do so without being caught."

"I—" Xan began to protest, but at that moment, a soft voice cut through the air.

"Xan?"

All three of them turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows near the edge of the yard. Xan’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw his girlfriend approaching, worry etched on her face. The moonlight illuminated her features, her sharp cheekbones, the pale green skin, and the familiar steely gaze of a Githyanki.

For a moment, no one spoke. Xan’s stomach churned as he glanced between his mothers and his girlfriend. He had no idea how they’d react to seeing her. Lae'zel’s eyes widened in shock for the briefest of moments before a wide grin spread across her face.

"She is Githyanki?" she asked, her voice rising in excitement. Xan blinked, caught off guard by his mother’s sudden change in demeanor.

"Uh, yeah?" he replied, unsure of what to make of the situation. Lae'zel’s grin grew even wider, and she stepped toward the girl with an approving nod.

"You choose well, Xan," she said, clapping him on the back. "A Githyanki partner—this is an honorable match. Go. Enjoy your night together."

Xan’s jaw dropped in disbelief. "Wait… what? You’re… okay with this?"

Lae'zel looked at him as if he had asked a ridiculous question. "Of course! She is strong. Fierce. It is fitting you should seek out one of our people. Go, have fun."

Shadowheart, however, was not so easily swayed. "Lae'zel!" she said, her tone incredulous. "You can’t just let him run off into the night. He’s still a child! There’s no telling what kind of trouble they’ll get into."

Lae'zel turned to her with a raised brow. "Do you not trust our son to handle himself? He is nearly a warrior, Shadowheart. Let them have their time."

Shadowheart’s lips pressed together, her protective instincts flaring. "I just don’t think it’s responsible," she argued. "He should have told us, and—"

"Enough," Lae'zel said, her tone firm but not unkind. She placed a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder, her touch both soothing and commanding. "We do not need to coddle him. He will learn through his experiences. Let him go."

"But Lae’zel—" Shadowheart started, but she was quickly silenced as Lae'zel leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Shush, my heart," Lae'zel murmured, guiding Shadowheart away from Xan and his girlfriend with a gentle hand. "We must give them space. Come, let us return to bed."

Shadowheart still looked uncertain, her eyes darting between Xan and Lae'zel. "But what if something happens? What if—"

"They will be fine," Lae'zel assured her, her voice calm yet firm. "Trust him. And trust her."

Xan stood there, half in shock, watching the interaction between his mothers. His heart pounded in his chest, half relieved and half anxious as he saw Shadowheart relent, her protests falling silent as Lae'zel led her back toward the house.

Lae'zel turned back to Xan, a smirk playing on her lips. "Be back before the first sight of light," she instructed, her tone playful but firm. "Or you will have more than just your mama’s wrath to deal with."

Xan nodded quickly. "Yes, Ma."

As Lae'zel led Shadowheart back toward their bedroom, the door to the cottage softly clicked shut behind them, but Shadowheart’s objections hadn’t quieted. She glanced back toward the window, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I still don’t think it’s a good idea," Shadowheart muttered, clearly not ready to let it go. "He’s too young to be sneaking out like that. And with someone we barely know—"

Lae'zel, walking just ahead, sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she turned to face her wife.

"Shadowheart, Xan is not a hatchling anymore," she said, her voice firm but patient. "He is old enough to make his own choices. We cannot shelter him forever."

Shadowheart huffed, her lips pressing together in frustration. "But he’s our son! How can you just let him wander off into the night like it’s nothing? What if—"

Lae'zel took a step closer, her gaze sharpening with a mix of affection and impatience. "Do you not trust him to handle himself?" she asked, her tone quiet but filled with conviction. "Or is it that you do not trust the Githyanki girl?"

Shadowheart hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "It’s not about trust… it’s about responsibility. He didn’t even tell us he was seeing someone! We should’ve been the first to know—"

"And now we do," Lae'zel interrupted smoothly. "And you have already met the girl. She is strong. She is Gith. Our son is in capable hands. What more do you need?"

Shadowheart opened her mouth to argue further, but before she could get another word out, Lae'zel swiftly closed the distance between them. With a low growl of impatience, she cupped Shadowheart’s face in her hands and kissed her firmly, effectively silencing any more protests.

The kiss was rough at first, driven by Lae'zel’s frustration, but it quickly softened as she melted into the moment, her hands sliding to cradle the back of Shadowheart’s neck. Shadowheart tensed in surprise, but within seconds, she relaxed, her arms unfolding and coming to rest against Lae'zel’s chest.

Lae'zel pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against Shadowheart’s, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Xan is not our only responsibility, Shadowheart," she murmured, her lips still brushing against hers as she spoke. "And now that he is occupied… we have the house to ourselves."

Shadowheart blinked, momentarily taken aback, her mind still half-occupied with worries about their son. "Lae'zel, this isn’t the time to—"

But Lae'zel’s smirk grew, her sharp features softening with affection as she gently pulled Shadowheart closer by the waist.

"It is exactly the time," she said, her voice low and playful. "No hatchling to interrupt us. No responsibilities to drag us away. Just you, me… and a quiet house."

Shadowheart’s resistance faltered as Lae'zel leaned in to kiss her again, slower this time, teasingly. She felt the familiar warmth pooling in her chest, the weight of her worries slowly lifting. Lae'zel’s hands were firm against her back, her lips insistent, and despite herself, Shadowheart found it harder and harder to hold on to her arguments.

With a sigh, Shadowheart finally gave in, her hands sliding up to thread through Lae'zel’s hair as she deepened the kiss. The tension that had lingered between them moments ago was swiftly replaced by a different kind of heat. Shadowheart pulled back just enough to look into Lae'zel’s eyes, her own still half-lidded with a mix of frustration and desire.

"You think you can just kiss me to shut me up every time we disagree?" she teased, arching an eyebrow.

Lae'zel’s grin only widened, a spark of mischief in her gaze. "It works, doesn’t it?"

Shadowheart huffed again, though this time it was more in amusement than annoyance. "You are infuriating."

"And yet, here you are," Lae'zel shot back, her hands roaming up and down Shadowheart’s back, her voice lowering. "With me. In an empty house. Tell me, Shadowheart… why are we still talking?"

Shadowheart opened her mouth to retort, but once again, Lae'zel silenced her with another

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed this, I rewrote it about five times so sorry if it's a bit rough! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[lena-thinks-too-much]

Some post death Jason things that fanon gets wrong

1. Talia kidnaps a catatonic Jason from the hospital (or in some versions his dead body)

While generally speaking this isn't that big of a difference, I recently read Red Hood: Lost Days and the way Jason ends up with Talia is actually really interesting.

Jason claws his way out of his grave, which is public and unmarked and wanders out of the grave yard. He's catatonic due to the brain damage from what joker did and kinda just wanders along the highway trying to make it back home. Meanwhile whoever's security at the cemetery find Jason's grave, assume it was caused by grave robbers and decide that they'd rather cover it up instead of get in trouble for letting it happen. While this is happening Jason get's hit by a car on the road and police are called. Because he's legally dead he they fail to id him and he's admitted to a hospital as a John Doe. He's in a coma for some time and once he wakes up, he promptly runs away and begins living on the streets in crime alley. At some point some big guy tries to pick a fight with Jason and his training kicks in. Jason does a flip and someone recognizes the move as Robin. This leads to Talia finding out that Jason is alive and that's how she ends up taking him to the league of assassins.

2. Ra's was involved with Jason's training

Ra's wasn't really for doing anything with Jason. Even less so when they realized he was catatonic. He kinda let Talia do whatever she felt like but after a few months of no improvement from Jason, he insisted she called the whole thing off because it was a waste of league resources. This is what spurs Talia into shoving Jason into a lazarus pit. Which just pisses off Ra's.

3. Jason's revenge plan was due to Talia's manipulation

While Talia did tell jason that he "remains unavenged" she also told him to "not seek him out". I've always assumed the antecedent to "him" was Bruce.

In fact Jason's little revenge arc is something Talia was super against. He does the whole bomb under the batmobile thing soon after getting out of the pit but he fails to actually go through with it. Because Talia doesn't actually want Bruce dead she decides to distract Jason by sending him to specialists around the world.

I'm not 100% sure why she later shows him the pictures of Tim. Because that's the point where she sleeps with Jason (which is already a weird choice), leaves him the helmet, and seems to know Jason's going to go back to Gotham with this information.

But generally Talia was trying to keep Jason away from Bruce until he calmed down - which, considering dude kept killing his teachers was definitely going to be a bit.

4. Jason and Damian met in the league

Okay I'll start this one off by saying I love the fics that do this, but there seem to be a lot of people who genuinely believe this happened. Sorry to burst your bubble guys, but outside of the young justice universe, it's quite literally impossible.

Jason was being sent to instructors around the world after coming out of the pit. In fact he was technically being hunted by Ra's for daring to use the pit. Talia herself barely interacted with Jason. Damian certainly didn't.

The argument could be made that Damian and Jason met before the pit but Jason clearly has memories from when he was catatonic and from what I know, he doesn't recognize damian when he meets him later on.

5. Pit madness

Look, there's nothing quite as tasty as a Titan's Tower AU where Jason's stalking through the tower hopped up on pit rage with glowing green eyes only to fully lose his anger at seeing Tim Drake being a disaster of a human. Literally my favorite trope of all time. I highly doubt there's a fic under this tag that I haven't read yet.

That being said pit rage or pit madness quite literally doesn't exist. The closest thing we get in the comics is a temporary burst of madness immediately following exposure to the lazarus pit. But it doesn't last. Definitely not as long as some people seem to believe.

Jason isn't the only person to use the pits in the comics. The Al Ghul's obviously but also bruce takes his own swim later on. But Jason's the only one people think have pit madness (and also Ra's Al Ghul but he doesn't count because there's no way you survive 7 centuries without going insane). The closest thing we see to pit madness in the comics is when Nyssa tortures Talia with her personal lazarus pit (that she experimented on) by repeatedly kiled and revived her until she quite literally breaks Talia's mind.

The pit madness that people attribute to Jason, however, most closely resembles the kind of bloodlust and animalistic behavior we see from people who use the lazarus pits in the Arrowverse, and no one is ever going to accuse that of being canon. So yeah these are just some things that while I actually quite enjoy reading in fanfics, they aren't actually true and it genuinely astounds me, how many people think it's canon and not fanon.

let me know if I missed any or got something wrong because I'm mostly working off my memorie for the red hood lost days references.

disclaimer: I'm fully aware that fanon ≠ canon. However these are things that I see a lot of fans treating as fact and that just generally irks me. Like I'm all for cherry picking the timelines and details that you like and adding your headcanons into the mix. It's the best part of fandom. But also I think it's important to at least be aware of what's canonical (although with DC that does generally turns into a mess)