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totally-here · 2 months ago

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3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help.

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long.

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned.

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity.

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room.

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up.

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender.

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark.

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?”

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times.

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?”

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.”

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life.

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes.

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that.

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it.

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone.

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders.

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost.

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead.

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?”

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.”

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.”

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him.

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?”

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!”

“You what.”

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg.

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament.

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead.

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl.

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker.

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?”

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes.

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing.

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body.

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches.

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly.

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker.

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?”

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that.

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably.

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car.

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything.

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out.

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile.

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions.

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.”

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.”

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible.

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies.

He gets a resounding no in response.

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else.

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it.

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula.

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?”

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?”

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!”

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame.

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?”

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.”

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest.

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds.

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head.

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring.

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.”

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest.

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused.

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.”

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #this post was brought to you by me recently finishing starman 1994 #which i totally recommend it was rlly good and im happy i was able to read the physical version because there are some double page spreads #that were beautiful and i just know the online ver would've butchered #this is also part of my put danny in opal agenda!!#come on guys!! partially if not all powered by cosmic energy #missing heroes other than like benetti and the shade as far as i know #and used to have a ghostly curse on it!!! perfect place #also it's no-pulse coded because im still rotating them in my head like a microwave #the gl is supposed to b Kyle but sry if he's off i only know him from his appearances in yj and hitman #and i tried to do a read more thingy because it got long i hope it works

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kaysungshine · 1 month ago

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݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk.

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself.

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there.

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included.

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat!

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them.

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi.

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety.

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home.

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point.

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye.

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric.

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before.

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous.

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists.

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures.

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest.

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out.

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth.

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin.

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next.

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment.

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you.

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours.

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles.

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too.

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements.

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips.

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real.

But it was.

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on.

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully.

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running.

Though you weren't so sure you would run.

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms.

The mushrooms.

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears.

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago.

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly.

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes.

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt.

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground.

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth.

"Who are you?" You ask curiously.

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared.

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm."

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong.

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues.

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures.

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too."

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you.

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it.

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though.

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening.

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment."

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing.

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you.

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children."

French? This being was a riddle.

"I don't understand." You force out.

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings."

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin.

"The truth?" You ask.

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose.

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing."

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense.

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again.

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch.

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble.

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours.

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access.

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more."

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue.

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch.

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt.

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up.

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it.

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this."

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you.

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand.

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped.

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing.

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek.

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head."

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it.

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate.

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him.

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly.

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile.

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you.

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace.

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing.

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground.

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan.

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry.

You were crying, you realized.

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" You sob.

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet.

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good.

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?"

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you.

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure.

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you.

It was becoming overwhelming.

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan.

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze.

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard.

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet."

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements.

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that."

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty.

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now.

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud.

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him.

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch.

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements.

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead.

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away.

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core.

"So pretty, even here darling."

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs.

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove."

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more.

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing.

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously.

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head.

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips.

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you.

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop.

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis.

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned.

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat.

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you.

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name.

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point.

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through.

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion.

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to.

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest.

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house.

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly.

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches.

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore.

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up.

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink.

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were.

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more."

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?"

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles."

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true.

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair.

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night.

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions.

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all."

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all."

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him?

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say.

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent.

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought.

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble.

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore.

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew."

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water.

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed.

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest.

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-"

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off.

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech.

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to."

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions.

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms."

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it.

Craved it.

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent.

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap.

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?"

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all.

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all.

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond.

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck.

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is."

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

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blushpawss · 24 days ago

Text

feeling sick

warning: fluff + pet names — soft!sylus takes care of you while you’re sick 🩷

main acc: @sushiyuzu

your body ached in every possible way, and the stuffy feeling in your head made it hard to think straight. it had started with a slight scratch in your throat the day before, but now? the full force of the cold had hit. you were miserable, curled up under layers of blankets, trying to find any ounce of comfort. each breath felt heavy, and every time you moved, a fresh wave of fatigue washed over you.

through the haze, you heard the soft creak of the door opening, and you didn’t even need to lift your head to know who it was. sylus’ presence filled the room instantly, warm and steady, a quiet strength that made you feel just a little less alone in your misery.

“kitten, how are you feeling?” his deep voice reached you, soft and full of concern, as he stepped closer to the bed.

you groaned, barely able to answer. “terrible,” you muttered, your voice muffled by the blankets and the congestion in your head.

sylus frowned, his silver hair falling into his eyes as he knelt beside you, placing a warm hand on your forehead. his crimson eyes softened as he took in the heat radiating off your skin. “you’re burning up,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

you didn’t have the energy to argue. everything felt like too much effort, even talking, and all you could do was close your eyes and lean into his touch, hoping the warmth of his hand might somehow ease the fever.

“just stay still, sweetie,” he said softly, pulling his hand back. “i’ll take care of everything.”

you heard him move away, the quiet sounds of him gathering things from the kitchen and bathroom echoing in the background. it wasn’t long before he returned, sitting back down beside you with a cold compress and a steaming cup of tea.

“sit up for a minute,” sylus said gently, carefully helping you into a sitting position. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, supporting your weight as if he knew exactly how weak you felt.

you leaned into him, grateful for the support, as he pressed the cool cloth against your forehead. the relief was immediate, the cold soothing the fever that had been making your head pound for hours. you sighed softly, letting your eyes drift shut as the tension in your body began to ease.

“that better?” sylus asked quietly, his voice low and soothing.

you nodded weakly, feeling the coolness of the compress working its magic. “a little,” you whispered, though even speaking felt like it took too much effort.

he held the cup of tea up to your lips, his other hand steadying you as you took a few slow sips. the warmth of the ginger tea settled in your throat, the honey soothing the scratchiness that had been bothering you all day. you swallowed carefully, feeling the heat spread through your chest, a small comfort in the midst of all the discomfort.

“good girl,” sylus murmured, his voice soft, almost a purr. “just a little more, kitten. it’ll help you feel better.”

you managed a small smile, his words bringing a hint of warmth to your chest that had nothing to do with the tea. even when you were feeling awful, sylus always knew how to make you feel cared for, his gentle tone and the way he called you kitten wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

once you’d had enough, he set the cup down on the nightstand, easing you back down onto the pillows. “you need to rest,” he said quietly, tucking the blanket around you more snugly. “your body’s working hard to fight this off. let me do the hard stuff for now.”

you gave a weak chuckle, though it came out more as a cough. “you’re doing enough already.”

sylus smirked, his crimson eyes twinkling with that familiar glint of protectiveness. “you know i’ll always take care of you, sweetie,” he replied, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. “you don’t even have to ask.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his lips against your skin. the gentle gesture sent a wave of comfort through you, his touch soothing the aches in a way that went beyond just the physical.

“you’re too good to me,” you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper.

“you deserve it,” sylus said simply, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on your cheek. “i’ll stay with you the whole time. i’m not leaving your side until you’re feeling better.”

he settled beside you, reaching for your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. the warmth of his hand against yours was comforting, grounding you in the moment, even as your body continued to ache. every touch was so careful, so deliberate, as if he was afraid of hurting you, though you knew he was just being extra gentle because he hated seeing you in pain.

after a few minutes of comfortable silence, sylus spoke again, his voice softer now, almost like a whisper in the quiet room. “i’ve got everything you need right here. i’ll make you soup later, something light that won’t upset your stomach.”

you nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. you didn’t have much of an appetite, but you knew he was right—once the worst of the fever passed, you’d need to eat something to keep your strength up.

sylus shifted slightly, lying down beside you and pulling you into his arms. you nestled into his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body radiating against yours. his hand traced slow circles on your back, soothing, lulling you into a calm state that made it easier to forget about the aches and fever.

“just sleep, kitten,” sylus whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “i’ll be right here.”

you nodded sleepily, your body already beginning to relax under the comforting weight of his presence. the fever, the aches, the exhaustion—they were all still there, but sylus made it all feel distant, as if none of it could touch you while he was holding you.

you drifted off slowly, your hand still resting in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles in a rhythmic, calming motion. his touch was constant, a reminder that even in your weakest moments, he was there, ready to care for you.

as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was sylus’ voice, soft and low, as he whispered, “i’ve got you, sweetie. you’re safe with me.”

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coldfanbou · 1 month ago

Text

Showtime

In the end, I went with Giselle this week. Also, this is kinda what I meant in the author's notes of the last Eunha fic when I said making a little AU around this building. Anyway enjoy Giselle.

Giselle X Mreader

Length 4K

Aeri clutched at her knees, tears rolling down her face as the video continued playing inches from her, replaying whenever it finished. Her friend had sent her a video of her boyfriend with some woman, a health girl, they called them. She felt devasted at the betrayal, her heart aching because of the video, unable to comprehend how the person she loved could do this to her.

Hearing the front doorknob jiggle, Aeri was on the verge of tears. She heard the door open and held herself tightly as the bedroom door opened, but it wasn’t her boyfriend there. It was her friend Jimin. The older woman rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Aeri. “It’s okay, Aeri.” Aeri slowly returned the hug, crying as she buried her face into Jimin’s shoulder. “I know, I know.” Jimin felt her friend's grip tighten around her waist. She held the younger woman close to her, letting Aeri pour her soul out to her. “Do you want to grab some stuff and stay with me?” Jimin asks, patting her friend's head. She felt Aeri nod and slowly let her go. Aeri felt a wave of relief when Jimin offered her a place to stay. “Alright, let's pack some stuff up for you and go to my place.” The pair looked through Aeri’s drawers, packing some clothes and necessities before leaving the apartment.

The drive to Jimin’s home was quiet, and Aeri was in no mood to speak. Once they had arrived and were inside, the older woman spent her time pampering Aeri. She made Aeri a warm cup of tea and brought out her favorite blanket, all in an effort to make her feel better. The familiar warmth of Jimin's home enveloped Aeri. It wasn’t the first time Jimin had helped Aeri through heartbreak, but it was the first time that she had been cheated on. It hurt her more than any other; Aeri was motionless, holding the warm teacup in her hands and staring at the concoction.

“You know you can talk to me, Aeri,” Jimin said, finally sitting beside her friend.

“It hurts.” She whispered, her grip on the cup becoming tighter as she went through her relationship, trying to find where things went wrong.

“I know, Aeri. I know.” Jimin glances at her phone as she pats Aeri’s back. She gets a message from Yizhuo and Minjeong saying they are on their way. The room is soon filled with her friends, who surround the heartbroken woman and comfort her.

Yizhuo showed her support through anger, her protective instincts kicking in as she threatened to beat the man, while Minjeong tried to lighten the mood with jokes. The chaotic mix of energy from the two women trying to speak over one another was enough to make Aeri crack a smile. Seeing her smile calmed them down for the moment, allowing Aeri to gather the strength to explain what she saw. The women shook their heads, their protective anger simmering beneath the surface, annoyed that her boyfriend would do something like that to her.

As they continued to comfort Aeri, Yizhuo's mind began to work. She wanted Aeri to get back at her boyfriend and show him up. When Aeri played the video for the others to see what he had done, she refocused on the surrounding details. She remembered all the details she could, from it being obviously on the ground floor, the neon lights that gave the video a pink glow, to a name written overhead. The friends stayed over for the night, and when everyone else had gone to sleep, Yizhuo pulled up her phone and began searching, finding the place, Tinker Bell. She snuck out of the house, heading over to the redlight district, heading directly for the building. Yizhuo was slightly shocked at its size, as it took up the entire block and was several stories tall. It was an exact match, though. Heading inside, Yizhuo walked down the long corridor, finding a lobby at the end.

The staff working behind the counter was stunned as an angry Yizhuo turned to him. “C-can I help you?”

“Are you hiring?” She asked without hesitation.

“I, um, yes.” The man said, gulping. “We’re always hiring.”

“Okay, good. Now, what would it take to be put in one of the rooms on the street?”

The staff was a little more than confused by the situation but tried his best to answer. “Most of the ladies in the front have submitted request forms. We would like to have more experienced workers there, but if you want a spot that badly, I’m sure we can work something out. We have a lot of ladies who want those spots to build up their customer base.”

“Oh, it’s not for me. A friend of mine wants to work here. Here,” Yizhuo how said, pulling out a picture of Aeri. “She’s a little nervous about asking, but she’d be able to get one of those street positions on her first night, right?”

“I, um, we’d need to talk to her. I’m afraid I can’t speak to people who aren’t the workers themselves about this.”

Yizhuo leaned on the desk, her eyes turning soft. “She’s just a real shy girl. It would be really hard for her to ask. That’s why I’m here. Look, you seem like a really good guy,” Yizhuo stood back, walking around the table. “You also look like someone who hasn’t gotten to have any action lately. I’m sure we can help each other out, right? I’ll get my friend to come here and apply in a few days; you give her a room on the street so she can build up a lot of clients and as thanks. I’ll use my mouth to take some stress off you.” Yizhuo pressed a hand on the staff’s chest, reaching into her purse to pull some lipstick out of her bag. “Wouldn’t you like to ruin my pretty face?” She asked, applying a deep shade of red. “I’ll even let you cum on me, or I’ll drink it, your call.”

Reaching down, Yizhuo felt the man’s growing bulge, “Please?” She asked, batting her eyes and pouting.

“O-okay,” the man responded.

“Thank you so much for this,” Yizhuo said, kneeling behind the table and pulling out the man’s cock, stroking it slowly. She raised his cock, planting slow kisses along the shaft, leaving a trail of red lip marks on it as she reached the tip. “Relax and enjoy,” Yizhuo spread her lips apart, swallowing the head and forming a seal around his cock as she bobbed her head. The man groaned, Yizhuo’s tongue lashing at his cock. He placed a hand on her head, pushing her head to take more. Yizhuo rolled her eyes, knowing the man was going to force himself to an early orgasm. Still, she let him have control; she was held against his crotch, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She could feel his cock throb and saw as his legs began to shake.

“Please drink my cum,” He groaned, his cum spewing into Yizhuo's mouth. She filled her mouth with his cum. After he pulled out, she opened her mouth to show she had it all and then drank it, showing him a clean mouth afterward. Knowing it was something a guy like him would like.

“So we have a deal?” Yizhuo asked, a drop of saliva running down from the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, I’ll make sure your friend gets a room in the front.” He said, out of breath. Yizhuo smiled at him and rose slowly, kissing him on the cheek before walking out of the building and returning to Jimin’s home.

She hadn’t expected Aeri to be up and waiting in the living room. “Where were you?”

Yizhuo considered her options before deciding to come clean to Aeri and tell her the plan. “Aeri, that dirtbag of a boyfriend slept with some other woman while you were probably waiting for him at home. I think it’s only fair that you get to have your own fun at his cost. I went out to the place he was at in the video.” Yizhuo decided to come out strong, trying to rouse anger from the Japanese woman. “I asked if they were hiring. I think you should get back at him and show him you don’t need him.”

“Yizhuo…”

“I know, Aeri, but think about it. He deserves it for what he did. He probably thinks he can go out and fuck other girls and still come back to you. You can’t let that happen, and what better way than getting a job there so you can show him you don’t need him.”

Aeri considered Yizhuo’s words; a growing sense of frustration was inside her. It might’ve been her emotions blinding her, but Aeri felt that Yizhuo had a point. “You’re right.”

Yizhuo was shocked that Aeri would side with her so easily but didn’t show it. “Okay, let’s go down there tomorrow to get you all signed up. You said before how he had begun coming home late every night. He’s probably going to go back there again, so he’ll get to see you not needing him, and he can just fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Aeri said with a little more confidence. She wiped her eyes and smirked, “I’m going to show him I don’t need him.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Without telling Jimin or Minjeong their plan, the pair headed together to Tinker Bell in the evening. Approaching the building, Aeri felt some nerves building up, but with Yizhuo by her side, she pushed onward, heading inside the building. They stopped at the front desk, “I’m back and with my friend this time.” Yizhuo announced.

“Very good,” the man said, pulling out some forms. “Please fill these out, and you can begin soon enough.” Together, they filled out their own set of forms. Yizhuo didn’t want to leave Aeri completely alone, so she applied with her.

“Stage name?” Aeri said, looking at the form.

“Yeah, we don’t want people to know our information.” Aeri nodded and considered the name she would use. “I’m not going to put too much thought into it. I’m going to go with Ningning.”

“I think I’ll use the name Giselle. It sounds pretty.” Yizhuo chuckled and smiled at Aeri.

“Alright, Giselle,” Yizhuo said in a slightly mocking tone. Once the forms were finished, Yizhuo stood up and handed hers in. Aeri followed suit and handed hers in. “Okay, Giselle, let's get dressed and ready to start. Be safe out there.”

“You too, Ningning.”

“We have a process to go through, ladies. Please follow me.” The staff member walked from behind the desk and led them down a spiral staircase down one floor. “We’re heading to the dressing room; considering this is mid-shift, we’ll have to introduce you to the other girls later.” The dressing room was large, similar to a locker room, with each woman having their own space for storage. The three walked to the end of the room, where the man pointed out the lockers Ningning and Giselle would use. “You’ll have to try on some of the outfits we have on hand for your shift today, but you’re welcome to bring something of your own as well. The company will reimburse you the cost, but once you bring something here, it is for work only?” The women nodded, “Good, I’ll wait for you two outside. Please choose your outfit for today.” With that, the man left, leaving Giselle and Ningning alone with a closet full of clothes at their disposal.

They spent some time looking through the clothes, with Ningning deciding on a matching set of lacy pink underwear and high heels. “Giselle, I found just the thing for you.” Giselle turned to see Ningning holding a sheer white bra and panty in one hand and a garter belt and stocking of the same color in the other. “You’ll look so good in this; try it on.” Giselle hesitated but tried on the clothes Ningning recommended. The younger woman clapped and yelled her support, loving how the clothes clung to Giselle’s body, pushing her breasts together and showing off her wide hips. “They’re going to love you out there.” Ningning said, holding onto Giselle’s hands. “Come on, let's go.” The women headed outside, where they met with the staff member.

“Wonderful; we’re running late, though, so let's take your picture, " he said, not giving them another second of attention. He led them to a room a few doors down, taking their headshots against a white background. “I’ll upload these and get them on the lobby board. Let’s get you to your rooms,” he said, rushing them back to the ground floor. They moved toward the front of the building, stopping at Ningning’s room for the night. “Ningning, this is going to be your room. Please make yourself comfortable.” He said before leaving the room.

Ningning waved to her friend, “I’ll see you at the end!” She shouted to Giselle before closing the door to her room. The staff member led Giselle further to the front, turning around to face her and opening the door to her room.

“Good luck tonight; I hope you get many customers. In these rooms, you can attract more attention to yourself by dancing, and don’t forget that if you want more privacy, there is a screen you can lower. Press the red button to drop it and the green to raise it. Most women keep it raised to attract more attention. What else was there…oh you’ll hear a chime when you have a customer on the way. Anyway, good look, I have to give your friend the run down.” With that, the man closed the door, leaving Giselle alone; she turned around and looked at the screen; it was the only thing keeping people on the streets from seeing her. Giselle took a deep breath and looked around the room. It was relatively small, with a twin-sized bed and nightstand on one side of the room and a desk with a chair on the other. She noted that there was still enough space to walk around the room comfortably and headed toward the buttons. She raised her hand to it, hesitating before finally pressing the button and watching the screen rise.

Surprisingly enough for Giselle, a few people were waiting on the other side. She waved to them. She couldn’t help but blush as she saw all eyes on her. She looked to the ground, rubbing a foot into the floor before looking back up and waving to the group again. Giselle turned around, grabbed the desk chair, and placed it in front of the group, sitting with her legs crossed. She felt awkward and didn’t know what to do; she considered dancing but felt embarrassed.

After a minute of sitting down, Giselle stood up, wracking her brain for things to attract a customer. She bent over, giving the crowd a look at her cleavage before standing up and adjusting her bra, giving the men outside a peek at her breasts before covering up.

You were outside watching her. You knew she was a new worker, and you had visited Tinker Bell a few times but didn’t recognize her. Something told you, though, that she just needed a slight push to get started. You head inside the building and head to the board, paying for an hour's session before looking for the woman. You spot her, Giselle. Pressing her button, you turn around, take the keycard from the staff member, and head to your room.

You tap the keycard and open the door. Giselle has her hands in balls but bows as you enter. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Giselle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Giselle. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

She gives you a nod, “Yeah, let’s have some fun.”

You walk up to the young woman, sliding your hand down her smooth back until you reach her ass, giving it a light tap. You feel her shudder. Giselle stares up at you, wondering what your next move will be; she feels vulnerable. It’s the first time she’s going to have sex with another man, and she doesn’t know what to do in this situation. You can see as much; she was like a deer caught in headlights. She slowly wrapped her arms around your neck, breathing quickening as your hands shifted to her waist. “I’ll be in charge tonight.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You press your lips against Giselle’s, kissing her forcefully as your grip on her waist tightens and you dig into her flesh. Giselle stifles her moan, leaning back and keeping her hold on you. You lean back, breaking the kiss and staring at the young woman before letting go of her. “Sir?”

“Hold on, Giselle, there’s something here to help get us in the mood.” You tell her as you walk over to the desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of oil. “Help me out of my clothes.” You command; Giselle rushes over to you, helping you out of your clothes in a rush. You keep on your underwear, letting Giselle stare at your bulge with intrigue. You turn Giselle around, letting her look at the growing crowd as you unlatch her bra. Giselle catches it, holding it to her chest, but once given the order to let it go, she does. Pursing her lips, Giselle looks to the ground, not daring to look at the crowd as they grow more excited. While she’s in her head, you grab open the oil bottle and pour some onto your hands, snaking them under Giselle’s arms before squeezing her bare breasts. She’s shocked back to reality, your hands teasing her nipple as you make her breasts slick. Giselle leans against you, her voice filling the room as she moans.

She holds her hands over yours as you massage the oil into her skin. Giselle feels her body begin to heat up and bites her lip. The oil moves down her body, soaking her sheer panties and practically revealing her most private area to everyone. You grab the oil bottle and pour half onto Giselle, massaging it into every part of her body. Moving closer to the window, you snake your hands down under her panties and toy with her slit, running your fingers between her wet folds. Giselle’s moans grow louder as you move upward and pinch her clit, her legs tremble, and she presses her hands against the window, leaning on it for support. Giselle’s mind begins to grow hazy, lust overtaking her body.

You rub against Giselle’s ass, forcing her mind to your cock. “Sir…” She groans, returning the favor and grinding against you.

“Yes?”

“I-you can put it in whenever you’d like.” Giselle moans, submitting to you. You push a finger inside Giselle before adding another. Her walls squeeze your fingers as you pump them in and out of the young woman.

“I’ll decide when. I want you to look out into the crowd and smile.” Giselle nods, staring out the window and making eye contact with all the men outside, smiling at them as you make her cum. Her walls clamp down on your fingers while you continue to move them, “You’re going to have to build up more endurance if you’re going to work here, Giselle.”

You pull out your fingers slowly and reach around, pushing them into her mouth and hooking the corner. You feel her tongue move up and down your fingers and smile. Though you can’t see her face, you know she’s in heaven right now.

You pull down your underwear with your other hand and grab your cock, placing it between her thighs and thrusting. “Ah, sir,” She groans, feeling the hot piece of flesh slide between her slick thighs.

“I know you want it, Giselle.”

“Please,” She whimpers, moving her hips. “I want it inside now.” You smirk and adjust Giselle’s panties, pressing your cock against her entrance. “Yes, please! Take me, sir.”

You thrust, burying yourself inside Giselle with one swift movement; you press your body against Giselle’s, forcing her to the window, her tits gliding across the glass as you begin thrusting. Giselle’s moans flood the room again; it was music to your ears. You grab her arms and pull them back as you continue thrusting, but keep her upper body pressed against the glass. Her walls tighten around your cock, holding you snuggly as you make sure every inch goes inside.

Giselle stared out the window, finding a growing sense of enjoyment from being watched by strangers. She smiled at them, showing them just how much she loved being fucked. She felt her hard nipples slide along the glass, bringing her more pleasure as she focused her body around your cock. Then she saw him, her boyfriend or ex, at this point was watching her get fucked by some man. She smiled at him, letting him know he meant nothing to her.

“Kiss me, sir, kiss me.” She moaned. Her request surprised you, but you gave her what she wanted. You turned Giselle’s head and kissed her, slipping your tongue into her mouth. Giselle eyed her ex, watching his face drop as he watched you take Giselle. “Thank you, sir.”

You let pull back from the kiss and let go of Giselle’s arms moving one hand to her tit and the other to her clit. You play with both, pushing Giselle toward her second orgasm. You move your fingers in small circles around her clit as you thrust, making her cunt tighten around you. Her large breasts filled your hands as you gave them rough squeezes. Giselle gritted her teeth as she felt a tightness in her core; she warned you of her coming climax and screamed as you made her cum. You made Giselle squirt, her slick spraying onto the window as you played with her body.

Pulling out of Giselle, you watched her drop to her knees. “I didn’t get to cum yet, Giselle. You’ll have to use your mouth.”

“Yes, sir.” She groaned, reaching for your cock and stroking it slowly. Giselle got closer to your cock, giving her boyfriend, who was still watching, a wink before wrapping her lips around your shaft and bobbing her head. You listened to her moan as she sucked your cock. Reveling in the feeling of her tired tongue moving around your shaft, you pat Giselle’s head.

“You’re going to be a good girl here, Giselle. You’ll just need a little bit of training.”

“Can you be my master?” She asked innocently, popping you out of her mouth and rubbing your saliva-covered cock against her face. “I like this cock; I want you to train me,” Giselle whispered before bobbing her head again.

The idea of being the only one to touch her body for a long time excited you, but you knew it was better for her to learn how to please different people, so you lied to her. “I'll be your master.” Giselle smiles at you as she bobs her head, pushing you toward your climax. You place your hand on her head and begin thrusting into her mouth, telling her to relax her throat. Giselle follows along with little trouble, taking your cock down her throat. As you neared your climax, you pulled out, jerking yourself off and cumming on Giselle painting her tits and face with your cum. Once you were done, Giselle licked her lips and smiled. “Show everyone how pretty you are, Giselle,” you say, motioning to the window.

She follows your order without a second thought, standing up and giving the crowd a peace sign as they take pictures. Giselle glances at her ex, not caring about him anymore, as she bends herself over and offers herself up to you again. You slap her ass, making her moan before taking her again.

After you were done with your time, you returned to the lobby, handing in your key and watching as it was immediately handed to someone else. You went outside and watched as Giselle began fucking another man.

For her entire shift, Giselle did not have a moment to rest. The show she had put on made people line up for her, leaving the young woman covered in cum and sore from the experience. Ningning was left to wash the young woman after, asking how it went. Giselle responded that it went great and that the plan had worked.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #aespa smut #giselle smut

579 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 6 months ago

Note

I’ve seen you said you take prompts, so, I had an idea if you’re interested.

So, imagine Danny has an assignment from Clockwork, and as punishment for a prank he pulled where he messed with something and unintentionally pulled CW’s attention away from the timelines for long enough for the Flash to accidentally ruin the timeline, after the timeline was fixed Danny’s forced to go and fix every single broken clock in the solar system. This includes stuff like watches and the batcave clock, maybe a few timed bombs, something on the watchtower, villain bases, etc.. Everyone is extremely confused and concerned as to how and why this eldritch kid with the Mark of Kronos is appearing randomly in their secret bases. Danny isn’t just fixing the clocks, sometimes he pulls Shenanigans depending on where he has to go. If he sees clones in a lab, he’ll call up Dani and they’ll pull off a heist together and she’ll take care of teaching and raising them afterwards. Talons? Danny opens a portal to a section of the infinite realms and gives them their own island after having the yetis go through deprogramming with them and stuff. He sees some stuffy fruitloop batcave? Graffiti and glitter. Lazarus pits? Free smoothie! Of course, he’s respectful to civilians when he bumps into them, giving little unmeltable ice statues to kids, helping people who need it, etc. He fixes a family heirloom watch, bringing tears to a grandson’s eyes. He’s helping people while on his mission, while also messing with any fruitloops he finds. So all of these people around the world are just really confused and being like, what in the world, who/what is this kid?! And sharing stories about him online, painting him as a cryptid or god or whatever. The Justice League and the villains are just Concerned because the kid feels like Kronos, time, and death energy, and have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish. Maybe they think that working clocks give him power, idk, just thinking of the conspiracy boards about Danny as he goes through his punishment and fixes every single clock, including on other planets (Danny practically squealing the whole time as he meets *aliens* in *space*! What cool technology and life!) This is meant to be a punishment but Danny’s living out his dreams. Sure it’s boring at times, but all this traveling is interesting and can help him bond with Dani, so this isn’t much of a punishment for him. He gets to be mischievous and help people out, it’s a win-win. Meanwhile everyone else is thinking that the end of the world is coming and that Kronos has been reborn and is trying to take over the world somehow with clocks. If you’re willing to expand or add to this or make it your own, please do!

I love the idea of Danny just *poof* "Yes, hello, I am the clock-smith" in the middle of, say, the watch tower. Floating up to the clock wall to adjust the time while pulling out a manual on time zones in different parts of space. The watch tower is within Earth's intergalactic waters per se, but which Earth time did he set it to???

Should he anchor it to one place or just place a spell on it to show all the time zones in a cycle? Does Clockwork have a procedure for this?

Meanwhile, all the heroes in the cafeteria are jumping to their feet, some whispering, "A fifth dimension imp!" and others yelling, "It's Kronos!"

Wonder Woman kneeling before the flouting teen does not help these accusations, as she loudly proclaims, "It's an honor to be of service, Lord Kronos."

Danny looked down at her. "Oh hey, an Amazonian."

"Why have you graced us with your presence? Is there anything this lowly servant can help you with?"

".....Can you gather all the watches for me?"

"At once!" And that's how the rest of the heroes almost have heart attacks because Wonder Woman herself is rushing at them at terrifying speed to rip away any form of watch from their bodies. She's on a war path, and no one can stop her. They can see it in her eyes- she'll draw blood if she has to.

They hand over their watches without much of a fight, feeling like they are being mugged. Wonder Woman sprints away to the next few levels- the screams of fellow heroes echoing in her wake.

Batman isn't as willing to cooperate with Kronos until he knows why the god is here, but Danny doesn't give him much of a choice. Mostly because he is uncontainable. Thankfully, he seems fixated on watches (Bruce writes in his notes, "Can gods be autistic???), and he leaves once they are all fixed.

He changes everything to be precisely twenty-nine hours ahead of whatever time they originally were at. Wonder Woman basically barked at everyone to not switch them back, banishing her sword.

From there, Batman does research with his sons and daughters. Tim finds the information of Danny appearing throughout history to fix watches, and Hal finds similar historical text in Oa's archives—usually right before a horrible tragedy. Further investigation shows a horrendous discovery.

Danny adds or subtracts the same number of hours from the told time as before the tragedy.

He was on Mars three hours before the tipping point of the civil war when the tremendous green Martian massacre happened. He added three hours to the green Martian's capital clock tower.

He was there on Krypton twenty-five hours before the planet was swallowed up by a black hole and exploded. Every public area with any form of time telling was changed to twenty-five regardless of whether it matched the planet's time zone.

And now he was here in the clock tower.

Bruce realizes that they have only one hour left, so he commands everyone to rush about and search for what could be the issue. It's only thanks to the Speedsters' quickness that they find the malfunction in the tower's core—the thing keeping them flouting. Had they been one hour too late, it would have caused the Tower to get pulled into Earth's gravitational pull.

Leading to them crashing into Earth- right above the most populated country of the world, possibly killing millions and leaving the world without their heroes.

The tragedy is avoided but now everyone is weary of when or where Kronos will appear.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is watching the timeline, amused that they think Danny is him when, in reality, Danny is just picking a random time and sticking the clocks to match since it's less math.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Kronos' warning #A idea to your idea #I like the idea of Danny just being a clock smith and everyone going "A PROPHECY!?

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tododeku-or-bust · 7 months ago

Note

could you elaborate a bit on that post abt (not) wearing headphones in public/playing your phone out loud? i was under the idea that it was nice to not play stuff aloud bc ppl might have migraines or be sound avoidant, but didn't realize i might just be seeing it from a white perspective, and id love to learn more

All right! First, check this link out: Xochitl does a far more eloquent job of explaining the idea than I would:

I assume that you're specifically honing in on my tag about the "white right of comfort".

Okay, so here's the thing. You're allowed to find public noise annoying. I too, find public TikToks and music annoying! And if you have migraines and such, I can understand how it would be impolite and inconvenient.

But what you're NOT allowed to do, is feel entitled to the public and prioritizing your OWN comfort in it over everyone else to the point of DEMANDING that it conforms to you or it's "bad". Especially when there are things you as an individual can do to prevent this discomfort.

While this gross sense of entitlement is very first world American in nature, it is extremely White American in nature because white Americans actually have the social power to enforce what they believe is the "right" thing based on their own standards.

For many cultures around the world and for many people of color, noise in the community is a GOOD thing. It's part of being a community. I feel safer if the people around me feel safe enough to be outside, to exist and to be, visibly in public.

And you got to understand, while many white people think they're genuinely in the right for believing that being loud on public transit or in the public is worth enforcing as a "bad" thing, people of color have literally already been killed for it. A Black teenager was shot in the face for playing music that a white man didn't like. A Black mentally ill man was murdered in front of EVERYBODY on a train because he was having a mental breakdown. This sort of policing ALREADY HAPPENS to us. Hell, even white gays with any sense of community should be aware of how queer gatherings would be shut down for "noise" (when in reality it was bc it was homophobia).

And now people want me to empathize that YOU'RE oppressed by... noise? On Public Transit?? IN PUBLIC?? Kiss my ass lmao.

I've been on trains where a man was legit growling at me like he wanted me dead. Another i saw Teens high on crack. Another where people beg and people sleep and people listen to music. And you know what I did? I turned my OWN music up and went on my way. Because at the end of the day, the only person I control is me!

And if people were REALLY concerned about others welfare, they would COMMUNICATE. no one is willing to say "hey, I have a headache, do you mind-" bc they're afraid of the rejection, so it's easier to demand "well EVERYONE SHOULD BE LIKE ME". Mhm. Learn to confront your issues. But you're not "unsafe" bc music. You're just annoyed, and you'll get over it.

In summary it really gives me "I can give you something to cry about" energy. Bc y'all swear y'all don't understand the existence of an HOA but here yall are replicating the same Karen behaviors, and y'all don't even realize (or maybe even care) how racist you sound. But why would you lmao, that makes you uncomfortable! And damnit, you have a right to comfort!!

#using general you btw #not you specifically anon

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wearywinchester · 1 year ago

Text

Soft Touch

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Comforting Dean might seem like a hefty task, but all he needs is you.

Requested by Anonymous: “request!! can you write something where the reader comforts dean after a bad day, it doesn’t have to be major trauma or anything just dean needing physical touch and not knowing how to ask for it and the reader making sure he’s comfortable and okay and just a bunch of fluff and comfort”

Warnings: angst, language, injury, alcohol, fluff

The bunker was fairly quiet, near completely. Sam was tucked away in his room, and if you had to guess, he was probably doing research. It’s what he’d been doing in the library for a little while, sitting there quietly with a few lore books and his laptop before he gathered his stuff with a polite goodnight and went to his room.

Sam Winchester is the only person you know that decompresses after a hunt by researching for the next.

You heard the sound of his tv when you walked by, muffled and soft. The sound of your footfalls accompanied it, a soft set of taps on the cold floor as you wandered about in search of your beau.

He hadn’t been in bed at all, his side still made. It wasn’t uncommon for him, not really, but he’d had a rough day.

It was a seven hour drive back to the bunker, and he was damn near running on fumes because he hadn’t slept well the night before. The motel bed was not doing any favors, stiff and thin enough to feel the springs dig into your muscles. The dip in the center made an uncomfortable pit, and he was just about ready to snag you and sleep in the Impala. He couldn’t sleep nearly as well without you.

He was sore from the hunt, muscles aching and begging for a bath, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of them. He’d obtained a myriad of injuries, none serious or major, but the combination was a melting pot of misery when you put them together. Not to mention the constant state of war he’s in with his own mind.

The halls still smelled like dinner, pizza and a mix of burgers, something quick and easy. None of you had the energy to do more than takeout.

You heard the quiet hum of the lights lining the hall, and your sigh upon seeing an empty library, and an empty map room. The bathroom was empty too, and the Dean cave he’d set up. There was no note on the desk by the bed, so that was an indication he was still there.

But your search wasn’t very lengthy much to your relief, a simple glance into the kitchen revealing just the one you were looking for.

His back was to you as he stood at the sink. He’d discarded his shirt after dinner, a habit he’d gotten into as of late. He got hot very easily, and it was a simple and more comfortable solution. Besides, you wouldn’t complain about that.

The muscles in his back tensed and moved as he washed the dishes in the sink, those damn hotdog pajama pants sitting on his hips.

His hair was a bit tangled and mussed, brushing against the nape of his neck and curling outward. He’d been growing it out, same for his beard, a mixture of not having as much time to handle it and wanting to try something new.

You saw a half drank glass of whiskey on the table as you passed it, the uncapped bottle sitting next to it.

He knew you were there, heard the soft pattern of your footfalls, not to mention he could sense your presence regardless of hearing you or not. But it was confirmed when you reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear.

He pulled his gaze from the plate in his hand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thought you’d run off for good,” you teased, your eyes meeting his.

His chuckle was soft and sweet, accompanied by a shake of his head. “Ain’t runnin’ off without taking you with me, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’t that a relief?”

You notice the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth, tired but surely present.

He rinses off that last plate, sticking it in the drying rack on the counter before wiping his hands dry on the tea towel draped over the sink. He turns to you, hands settling on your hips before they glide forwards, snaking themselves around your waist and tugging you closer. They were warm and calloused, the perfect combination.

You rested your hands on his chest, his skin warm and radiating to you. Your gaze shifts to the scrape on his shoulder, fading into a cut. He hadn’t tended to it, not really, nor did his mess with the one on his bicep and just above his beard on his cheekbone.

“How about we get you cleaned up, then head to bed?” You say, tipping your head back to look at him.

He took one of his hands from where it rested around you to settle by your cheek and tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck.

“You sayin’ I didn’t do a good job?” He asks, and you just barely saw the raise of his brow under the hair that fell over his forehead.

“Pretty much,” you answer with a shrug, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of his frown and crease between his brows.

He tugged you in closer abruptly and you made a delighted noise of surprise, moving your hands from his chest to wrap up around his shoulders. His nose bumped against yours, the brush of his lips gentle before he they pressed a kiss on your own. It was lingering and sweet, borderline steamy before he parted, only to press one, two, three more to your lips.

“Trying to distract me?” You ask, furrowing your brows with a soft smile as you look at him.

He chuckles as he shakes his head, brushing your hair out of your face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t have to try to do that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, instead rolling your eyes as you wriggle from his arms.

“Sit down, Winchester,” you say, walking towards the cupboard.

You hear his sigh as you grab the first aid kit, freshly replenished a few days ago. You hear that sigh but when you turn around, sure enough he’s taken his seat at the kitchen table, swirling his unfinished glass of whiskey in his hand before gulping it down and pouring another.

Now it’s your turn to sigh, head shaking softly and he most definitely heard it.

You open the lid to the kit, pondering over what you wanted before it came to mind. You snagged a package of an alcohol wipe, and the small bottle of antiseptic, grabbing a small stack of gauze.

None of his injuries were severe, but it’s no good for any wound, superficial or not, to have dirt trapped in it while it tries to heal.

Anyone knew that. Anyone except Dean Winchester.

Well, it’s not that he didn’t know, he very much did. He just lacked a certain caring when it came to himself. And by lacking, he didn’t care at all. He was always that way. He cared enough to eat and bathe, to brush his teeth and at least have you brush his hair, though that was purely because he secretly not so secretly enjoys how it feels. But in actuality, he didn’t care much for himself, didn’t see a reason to.

In fact, the only reason he cared even a little bit was so he could be around to protect you and Sam, didn’t have anything to do with himself.

“No more liquor, De,” you sigh, capping the bottle and pushing it away from his reach.

You didn’t fail to notice the way he looked at you for it, brows furrowed and gaze narrowed. And you didn’t fail to notice the way those dimples formed by the corners of his mouth, barely visible through his beard but you knew with one hundred percent certainty that they were there.

That was his form of self care. A bottle of whiskey or a six pack of beer. But that was no form of caring at all, no form of soothing.

You simply lift your hand and run it over his head, caressing over his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek softly. Your hand drops to rest under his chin, tipping his head back to drop a soft kiss to his lips, something that made your words sound not so bad to him now. So much so that he made a noise of discontent when you pulled away to tend to those wounds of his.

He didn’t care about a damn scrape or two, he wanted you.

You sigh as you tear open a couple packets of alcohol wipes, plucking one from its package and unfolding it.

You started with his arm, holding his bicep in your hand, cumbersome at best because he’d become quite muscular as of late. You noticed the slight twitch he’d made in reaction to the cold alcohol stinging the open scrape, but it’d barely shown on his face, hard for anyone but you to tell.

You cleaned away the excess dirt and blood with gentle swipes. You set down the dirtied wipe on the table, reaching for the gauze and bottle of antiseptic. You squeezed a generous amount on, returning your grip on his arm as you dabbed it directly on the scrape this time.

He may think you were being dramatic, you knew it did. It was only a few scrapes, the most superficial of injuries you can get. The equivalent of a paper cut in the world of hunting. But you were all about caring for your big, strong tough guy even if he couldn’t give a damn about any of it when it came to himself.

“You should really take better care of yourself after hunts, De,” you say, beginning to repeat the process on his shoulder.

“I ain’t gonna die from a couple of scrapes and scratches, sweetheart,” he says, as careless as ever, his tone lighthearted.

You exhale a huff, tossing the second wipe down in a more obvious show of your frustration.

“Would you want me to say that about myself?” You ask, brow raised in challenge.

“Y/n,” he said sternly.

You could tell he was angry, or the beginnings of it. His jaw was tense, along with his shoulders. You could feel it under your palm, a noticeable difference. Not to mention the look on his face alone was enough of a giveaway.

That crease between his brows never left, only deepened by your words. Those dimples were still adorning the corners of his mouth unable to be masked by the beard that framed his jaw. Nor could it hide the subtle flush in his cheeks, tinged with anger and frustration.

To him, the comparison was incomparable. So ridiculously, unbelievably able to be compared because he was not in the same bracket as you. He’ll, he’d die for you, and has. He’s sold his damn soul to a low life demon just so you would be okay, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. He’d rather get torn to shreds by a werewolf, become some wendigo’s dinner, be made into some monsters toy than have so much as a hand laid on you.

The comparison between you and him was one he could not make. Because you were the world, a radiant being and far better than the angels he’s seen in his lifetime and he knows it for a fact. You were his world and he was simply a fleck in it. He’s always felt that way, and the whole idea has been putting a strain on him for as long as he can remember.

He always hated that you were a hunter, because dammit it scared him more than anything. He’s seen what monsters do to people, innocent lives. He’s seen what the life does to those who enter it, how it changes them, he’s one of them. He’s seen the sheer trauma it’s put you through, the agony and pain. He sees it with every case, every hunt that’s added to the endless chart.

If he thinks about it for too long, it’ll drive him insane, push him over the edge of emotion and into a fit of rage. And that, that reaction alone only adds to the self hatred he feels. To be an angry person when you’re so delicate and everything he wishes he could be. It spirals into every avenue.

He couldn’t bring himself to put caring about a scrape on himself at the same level as an injury on you. He couldn’t do it. Even so much as a paper cut on you would have him furrowing his brows. It’d need something as simple as a bandaid and he’d be sure to put it on, giving you hell if you tried to brush it off.

No matter the severity, if you were hurt in any way, shape, or form, it mattered to him.

He didn’t give a damn about himself, he gave a damn about you.

He didn’t say anything else, and you sighed, softening your glare and settling your hand on his other cheek.

You noticed the way he leaned into your touch, however, his hair falling in the direction it so pleased as he tilted his head and tipped it back, his eyes falling closed.

Dean Winchester was rough, tough and rugged. There was no denying that. He was stereotypical, and put up every front he felt he needed to. But when everything is stripped away, when it came down to it, Dean was a man of comfort. That’s really all he’s ever wanted, no matter how much he refused to say it.

But it’s a trait that’s guarded with extra security, one he tries to keep on lock down from you even, but he can’t keep that from his source of comfort. He’d be foolish to think he’d be able to keep that from you.

The subtle flush in his cheeks had accentuated his freckles, soft flecks kissing along his skin, almost comically delicate in contrast to the tough persona he puts on. Especially the way his lashes curled over top of them when his eyes were closed.

You were gentler this time if that were possible, gentler in comparison to the other two you just tended to. His skin was angry and red around the uneven scrape, some of it smudged lightly with blood and some not.

His beard felt prickly and soft all the same against your palm, the longest he’s ever let it grow. His hair fell over his eyes, glimmers of green breaking through as he opened them to look at you.

He didn’t say anything, just looked. His gaze is softer than it was moments before, looking at every detail he can soak in as if he’d never see them again. Quiet as he admired. His expression was unreadable, yet so openly blatant all the same.

You knew he’d calmed down from a couple minutes ago. You knew it with the way his hands grasped your hips and pulled you closer. You sat down on his lap, a soft sigh exhaling past your lips.

“Well, I was all done anyway,” you say, tone lighthearted and teasing as you toss what was in your hand to the side.

“Oh good,” he says, pulling you all the more closer.

He tucks you into himself as tightly as possible, and you feel how deeply he inhaled as his face settled against the crook of your neck briefly, felt his exhale against your skin.

This. This was all he ever needed. All the comfort he’d known and cared for.

His warmth was unbeatable, his skin smooth and heated as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“I could get used to this no shirt thing, you know,” you said, soft but mischievous, that smile of yours plenty proof of it.

You hear his chuckle, see that half grin of his as he looks at you with half open eyes, a chunk of hair dipped between his brows in a damn prince charming sort of way.

“Yeah?” He inquires, though he knows your answer already.

You simply respond with a nod and a soft laugh that sends a feeling of warmth through his chest like it’s the first time he’s heard it. Nearly sent over the edge when that laugh presses to his lips and dissolves into a kiss.

Damn was he ever lucky, any tension he’s carried having long since dissipated just from your mere presence.

He’d felt absolutely miserable, purely stuck below the surface of his thoughts that never fail to drown him. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter so much. They could be thoughts to worry about some other time.

Because right now he’s got you.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana @iprobablyshipit91

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine

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natalievoncatte · 5 months ago

Text

Kara is buzzed when it happens. Not drunk, buzzed. A little tipsy. Not lost in the sauce, more “in her cups”. It’s been a rough day of wordsmithing and crime fighting and game night has turned into an impromptu movie night because no one has enough energy to play anything. The Settles of Catan box is gathering dust next to the Pictionary stuff and the other random games that have accumulated at Lena’s apartment ever since they all realized that she has the best bachelorette pad for hosting these things.

Instead they’re watching Twister instead of playing Twister, laughing at how cheesy it is. The movie is almost over but the night is young and Kara is unwinding, so she asks Lena for a favor.

“Can you bring me some?” she says, spotting Lena pouring wine from a box that Kara brought over.

“Sure,” Lena says.

A moment later, Lena joins her.

This moment is inportant. Kara doesn’t know it yet but it’s one of the most important. One day she will rank it in importance with the day she first saved Lena and the first time she walked into Lena’s office and a number of other firsts.

Consider this: It is a warm May night and Lena has the windows open to let the breeze in. It’s maybe seventy in the penthouse and eventually it’ll get cooler. Right now, everyone is lazing about in knockaround clothes. Kara herself is in a pair of old threadbare sweats from the DEO that she kept even after the organization disbanded because they were so comfy, and the ribbed tank she had on under her outfit at work, baring her blocky and sun-tanned shoulders.

(This is because Lena once made a comment about her big meaty shoulders after they attended a spin class together. Kara never consciously said “I’m giving Lena two tickets to the gun show”, but she has her bis and tris on display around her whenever possible anyway. Kara had no reason to flex when she’s opening a bottle of wine -or a box with a screw cap- but she does it anyway. She doesn’t need to pick up Lena’s car… you get the idea.)

Lena, for her part, is dressed in mercilessly short shorts that bare her thick thighs, and she’s put on a sweatshirt. A gray sweatshirt that has the National City university logo on it, a school she did not attend, and is two sizes too big for her. She’s put her hair up in a sloppy ponytail and has taken out her contacts in favor of a pair of rather chunky-framed glasses. She looks like a dork.

A stunning, cute, adorable, huggable, kissable dork.

Lena brings with her two blue plastic tumblers of wine, and hands one to Kara.

The couch is packed. Alex and Nia flank Kara, and their respective partners fill out the sofa. Really, someone should have saved Lena a seat in her own house. She has one in mind, though. She sits right on Kara’s lap as she hands her the wine.

It could be any number of things that cause it. She’s tired, she spiked a few of her drinks with alien rum, it’s been a long and frustrating day and she’s just not thinking right. She doesn’t have her filters in. Words just spill out.

“Good girl,” Kara says, as Lena settles in place.

The reaction is subtle, but to a Kryptonian, obvious. Lena’s heart does a little pitter-patter and she tenses just slightly, just barely, so subtly that only Kara would notice. Her pupils widen and her breath catches sharply.

Alex, seated such that she’s behind Lena, snaps her gaze to them quickly.

Kara does the only thing she reasonably can do. She presses her legs gently to either side to make sure there’s enough room and lets Lena settle in with her. The couch is one of those huge custom jobs that cost more than Kara’s apartment and every stick of furniture in it, so there’s room for Lena to comfortable position herself and lean back into Kara, sipping a bit of wine.

Everyone is else is dead silent, the only sound coming from Lena’s massive TV and theater quality sound system (so there is in fact a lot of sound)

Lena is there and she’s warm and soft, the crown of her head in perfect range for a little sniff. With not much effort Kara could press her lips to Lena’s hairline and give her a little kiss.

She’d done that once. It was after a save, when Kara was holding Lena in her arms after catching a collapsing crane on her back, shrugging off a hundred tons of twisted metal to save her Lena. It was not long after Lena came back to her and things were still weird and fragile and Lex wanted her dead and Kara was so, so scared, so wracked with pain just from knowing what Lena meant to her. The only way she could stop herself from kissing Lena, proper kissing, was by pressing her lips somewhere safe and friendly and kinda a we’re friends kiss and not a I want to marry you please never leave me again kiss.

Lena drinks the wine so fast she gulps, and she’s either thirsty or trying to calm her nerves. There’s a palpable air in the room right now, a heavy tension that’s made them all suddenly stiff and uncomfortable. They pass the rest of the movie in silence.

“Who’s up for a double feature?” Kara says, not wanting to leave but not wanting to test the terms under which she might stay.

“Not me,” Alex says. “We’ve got to get home and pay Ruby for watching Esme. Besides, if we let you picky we’ll end up watching some damn cartoon.”

Nia wnd Brainy similarly demur, citing reasons of their own.

“Okay. I’ll stay and help clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” Lena says, tentatively.

“I don’t want to be a poor guest.”

The rest of the Superfriends pile out of the penthouse and into the night with mildly alarming speed, and Kara is suddenly alone with Lena. The vast penthouse doesn’t feel empty. Instead it feels close in, almost crowded.

Lena slips off of Kara’s lap and plops beside her, yawning. She sets down her empty wine cup and stretches, delightfully arching her back as she throws her arms back up over her head, fingers laced. Kara doesn’t need x-ray vision to see she’s bare beneath the sweatshirt. Her own heart does a little flutter.

She looks so soft, so cozy and inviting, but her legs are such a distraction that Kara can’t help but look at them, her gaze sweeping from ankle to hip with the intensity of an explorer who’s just crested a mountain and set eyes on a promised new land. That’s when Kara realizes that Lena saw her looking and is meeting her gaze firmly.

“Like what you see?”

Kara swallows hard. She can hear the drum of Lena’s own heart, almost feel the same quickening of her pulse as well as the slight waver in her voice.

Kara licks her lips.

“Should we clean up, or…”

“Should we? Or should it wait until morning?”

If Lena had been dropping hint before, she was laying down the gauntlet now. She looked at Kara with lidded eyes and a flushed, wine-silly grin.

Kara swallowed hard. A part of her, a very loud part, still insisted she misinterpreted all of this and Lena was just being friendly. What if she was just being friendly, what if-

“What would you rather do?” said Kara.

Lena shrugged. “I’m tired of thinking, Kara. People ask me what to do all damned day. I’d rather relax and just let someone else take charge for a while.”

The way she said it, especially take charge, was so heavy and drippy and velvety that Kara could get lost in it.

Fuck it.

Kara twisted and, carefully, very carefully, lifted Lena into her lap. Lena made sure to not sit but straddle, her warm thighs bracketing Kara’s as she settled her weight in Kara’s lap and fell against her chest.

Very, very tenderly, with supreme care, Kara pressed her hand to the back of Lena’s head, slipping her fingers into Lena’s hair, and guided her in. She savored every second. The ghost of breath on her lips, the sight of Lena’s blown pupils before she closed her eyes, the feeling of Lena’s fingers digging into her shoulders as their lips met. Lena kissed her softly at first, then more and more greedily, exploding from a gently pressing of lips into something undeniably needy and hot. When Lena moaned into her mouth, Kara’s nerves lit up like a Christmas tree and she instincts grabbed Lena’s hips and and grinds herself up against her.

“Lena,” Kara whispered, “is that my sweatshirt?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Take it off,” said Kara, and then a moment later, “good girl.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #steamy #Lena likes praise

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its-avalon-08 · 1 month ago

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what about franco x reader: reader wants to breakup with him cause she thinks their relationship might not survive his f1 career and she gets insecure about all the girls he’s going to meet and stuff but he reassures her he actually needs her by his side? 🙏

why me? (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, break up, insecurity, fluff

Y/N's heart pounded as she stared at the news notification on her phone. Franco had finally done it—he had secured a seat with Williams in Formula 1. The moment she should’ve been ecstatic for him, proud of all his hard work and determination, instead left her feeling hollow. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of him; she was, more than words could express. But the overwhelming wave of uncertainty crushed her, drowning out the joy she wanted to feel.

This is it. This is the beginning of the end.

She could already see the cracks forming, fractures in their relationship that hadn’t even happened yet. Franco, with his charm and talent, was bound to be surrounded by so many new people—drivers, celebrities, and worst of all, beautiful women who��d be drawn to him like moths to a flame. He would be traveling constantly, pulled in a thousand directions by his career. Where did that leave her?

It’s better to end things now, she reasoned with herself, as painful as the thought was. She didn’t want to be the clingy girlfriend sitting on the sidelines, wondering if he’d forget about her. What if she wasn’t enough for him anymore? What if, in the chaos of fame, he realized he wanted more than what they had?

Tears burned her eyes as she stared blankly at the screen. I can’t do this. I have to let him go before he lets me go.

time skip

Y/N felt a strange mix of pride and unease as she walked into the paddock with Franco. The energy here was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Franco, in his Williams gear, looked like he belonged—every inch the rising F1 star. But that only heightened her anxiety.

As soon as they stepped further in, a small crowd began to gather around them, particularly around Franco. Models, influencers, and PR representatives, all with perfectly polished smiles, swarmed him, vying for his attention. Their bright laughter and easy charm grated on Y/N’s nerves, even though she tried her best not to show it. This was part of his life now, and she had to accept it.

But do I really?

One of the models leaned in a little too close, her hand brushing Franco’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Franco, ever polite, smiled and responded, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. Y/N stood off to the side, suddenly feeling like an outsider in his world. The women around him were stunning—tall, glamorous, and effortlessly confident. How could she compete with that?

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she absentmindedly unlocked it, scrolling through Instagram as a distraction. Her heart sank when she stumbled upon the latest post of Franco—one from his PR team, showing him posing by his car, looking effortlessly cool in his racing gear.

The comments were flooded with compliments.

“OMG, Franco is so hot. 😍” “Imagine being his girlfriend… I would die for that smile!” “Ugh, how is he single? I need him in my life.” “He could have any girl he wants tbh.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted, her fingers tightening around her phone as she scrolled through more of the comments. Each one felt like a knife digging deeper into her insecurities. These girls didn’t even know him, but they spoke as if he was already theirs.

She glanced up, catching Franco laughing politely at something one of the models said. The sight stung. He was just being his usual kind, respectful self, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. Her mind raced with doubts. Would it always be like this? Her, standing on the sidelines, while he was surrounded by people who seemed to fit into his new world far better than she ever could?

Maybe this is how it starts, she thought, her throat tightening. Maybe one day he’ll realize he deserves someone like them—someone more glamorous, more confident, more… everything.

The thought hit her like a tidal wave. She could barely breathe as her fingers hovered over her phone screen. Should she say something? Should she pull him aside and tell him what was going through her mind? But then, would he even understand? Or would he just brush off her feelings as irrational?

She took a step back, trying to create space between herself and the scene unfolding in front of her. Her phone buzzed again, and she instinctively checked it, only to see more comments flooding in under Franco’s post.

“I can’t believe he’s still single… lucky girls at the paddock.” “Franco, when are you going to date someone? 😏”

Her heart dropped. I’m right here, but no one even knows that I exist. Y/N closed the app, shoving her phone into her pocket as she tried to fight off the suffocating wave of insecurity building inside her.

Franco finally broke free from the crowd, excusing himself from the models with a gracious smile before turning back to Y/N. He frowned when he noticed her distant expression, walking over and taking her hand. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

Franco didn’t seem convinced, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "You sure? You’ve been quiet all morning."

Y/N glanced around at the women still lingering nearby, their gazes lingering on Franco even as he stood by her side. The weight of everything—the comments, the models, the reality of his new life—crushed her. I can’t do this.

"Yeah," she said, pulling her hand from his grasp. "I just need a moment alone." Before Franco could protest, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, confused, as her heart raced with the decision she had already made.

She couldn’t let this continue. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Y/N had barely spoken since Franco got back from his meetings with Williams. He immediately sensed something was wrong, her usually bright demeanor muted, her smiles forced.

"Y/N, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day," Franco asked, concern etched in his face as he sat down beside her. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

She pulled away slightly, feeling the weight of her decision crashing over her again. "Franco, I… I’ve been thinking. About us."

His brow furrowed, the confusion clear in his eyes. "What do you mean? What’s there to think about? Everything’s fine, isn’t it?"

Everything’s not fine.

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "You’re going to be a Formula 1 driver, Franco. This is huge—bigger than anything. Your life is going to change completely, and I don’t… I don’t think our relationship is going to survive that."

He blinked, stunned. "What? Why would you even say that? Y/N, we’ve been through so much together, why would you think this would break us?"

"Because you’re going to be away all the time," she burst out, her voice trembling. "You’re going to meet all these new people, and—Franco, you’re going to be surrounded by girls who are way more interesting, more beautiful, more… everything than me. And I can’t compete with that. I’m scared that you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore."

He looked at her like she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. "Y/N, stop. You really think I care about any of that? About some random people I’m going to meet? That’s not what matters to me."

"You say that now," she muttered, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from the pain of her own words. "But what if it changes? You’ll be busy all the time, caught up in your career, and I’ll just be… here. Waiting."

Franco’s jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand, his eyes intense and unwavering. "I need you by my side, Y/N. Not some random person. You." He brought her hand to his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her palm. "You’ve been with me through everything—the hard times, the wins, the losses. Do you really think I could go through this without you?"

She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. "But what if—"

"No." Franco’s voice was firm, cutting off her doubts before they could take hold. "No more ‘what ifs.’ I love you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the attention, the fans, or any of that. It’s you who grounds me. You’re what keeps me going, even when things get hard. I need you to believe that."

Y/N’s heart twisted, torn between the fear that had been eating away at her and the raw sincerity in his words. "But what if I hold you back? What if you need to focus on your career?"

"Then we figure it out together," he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Not because of fear, not because of this career. I want you with me, every step of the way. You’re the only person who knows the real me. And I need that more than ever now."

Her resolve crumbled as she looked into his eyes, the weight of her fears slowly lifting. "I’m just scared, Franco," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m scared of losing you."

"You won’t," he promised, pulling her into his arms. "You’re not going to lose me. I need you with me, Y/N. We’re in this together. Always."

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #williams #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x yn #williams f1 #williams racing #williams formula 1

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leahswife · 7 months ago

Text

the in-betweens

summary: in which you and aitana go from normal best friends to best friends who kiss.

a/n: this is the before of "where do we stand". gotta post some aitana fluff after all the jenni filth. i'm sorry if this feels rushed but i just couldn't find any more ways to describe the goddamn act of kissing 😭

prequel, part one, part two, part three

"ven a bailar conmigo, porfaaa." aitana begged as she grabbed your hand.

"no no no aita–" you tried to protest but the girl's strong arms pulled you up from your seat, in the direction of the dance floor. you looked back at where you were seated besides caro and marta, sending them a pleading look to save you. they sent you an apologetic look but knew even they couldn't reason with a buzzed energetic aitana. you groaned at being dragged, you weren't in the mood for drinks tonight and you pretty content sitting next to the calm couple.

you don't know where aitana managed to find so much energy to party after a long game. but she did. and insisted on trying to force some of it into your worn out body.

you danced for a while, aitana screaming along to the spanish songs playing. you were unable to keep your frown on, with a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you saw how happy she was.

she finally calmed down and wrapped her arms around your neck which made you comfortable enough to wrap yours around her waist, pulling her closer. you felt like your heart could combust with how close she was. she was breathless and clearly still high on a buzz when she got closer to your ear to shout "quiero besarte!" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not quite understanding what she said, a mix of language barrier and loud music not allowing you to. she grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer and shouted again, "i want to kiss you!" she smiled excitedly.

you felt like your eyes couldn't grow wider if you wanted to, shocked at what you just heard. "you want to kiss me?" you asked her, disbelief in your voice. she just nodded with a happy smile and kept on dancing like she just didn't drop those 'too drunken' news on your 'too sober' self.

you went along with her wishes for a while but the pressing of sweaty bodies against you was starting to make you uncomfortable and so you got closer to aitana to shout in her ear, "i'm tired, tana. i'm going!" she nodded, starting to get drained too and both of you went back to your friends' table to gather your stuff. she tripped a bit on her own feet and you quickly put your hand on her waist to steady her, "okay, i'm taking you home." you say as you grab her stuff for her, she just giggled and let you take the lead, "at least take me to dinner first."

once you got to her house, you search for her keys in her purse and open the door, planting your hand on her back to guide her inside.

"so much better." you let out as you relished in the warmth of aitana's apartment, compared to the night's relentless cold outside. you turned to aitana to see her shivering in her dress, holding tightly onto her jacket.

"aitanita, go change into your pajamas." you rubbed up and down her arms and she nodded, "you can use my pajamas too" she suggested quietly, sleepiness taking over her.

"oh that's okay, i can go ba–"

"i'd like for you to stay." she whispered, looking up at you. she was sobering up by now and you could see it in her eyes there was something she needed to let out. did she remember what she said earlier? about you two kissing? she could really just let it go and blame it on the alcohol but you knew aitana felt the need to carefully explain any behaviour that could come across as weird. so you nodded. you went to grab her pajamas and got ready in her bathroom while she got dressed in her bedroom.

when you walked in, aitana was sprawled in her bed, dead asleep. you looked at her for a moment, heart beating slightly faster at the thought that your best friend might like you back. anyway, that was something for you to obsess over later. you chuckled at her figure and tucked her in, pulling the warm covers over her. you grabbed a blanket and made yourself comfortable on her couch.

–

"why did you sleep on the couch?!"

you groaned and reluctantly opened your eyes as a scolding aitana woke you up.

"you don't have a guest room." you mumbled sleepily.

"so you should've slept in my bed." she crossed her arms.

"hm. couldn't disturb your beauty sleep." you put one arm over your eyes to keep away the light.

"idiota." you heard aitana mutter under her breath as she continued to throw complaints in catalan at you.

"aita, aita, aita" you repeated in hopes of interrupting her, in which you were successful, resulting in aitana shutting her mouth but not without sending you a scowl.

"qué?"

"has anyone ever told you that you're extremely loud and talk way–" you're interrupted by her rolling her eyes and moving towards the kitchen, ignoring you, "-- way too fast!" you yelled after her.

soon after, you feel a body sit down next your lying one. you opened your eyes to see aitana offering you a plate with fruit and eggs and some orange juice. you sit up, a smile forming on your face. "you didn't have to."

"eat."

"bossy."

"as i speak."

you looked at her, getting slightly anxious at what was about to come next. but you nodded and started diving into your plate.

"i said something last night." she started, hesitantly. you nodded again, focusing more on your plate rather than looking at her so she wouldn't feel so much on the spot.

"i didn't– i don't want to make you uncomfortable with what i said."

"did you mean it though?" you finally lift your gaze towards her.

"i– i did mean it. but i don't know what that means for me. if that makes sense." aitana was looking at her hands, fidgeting with them. this was clearly a sensitive topic. you noticed her breathing starting to get irregular and you put your plate and glass on the coffee table so you could get closer to her.

"i just don't want to lose you and i'm sorry if i made things awkward or different–" she started rambling the same time her tears started flowing down her cheeks. you pulled her into a hug and held her tight, "hey, tana–" "i don't want you to look at me differently or avoid me–" she was trying to control her breathing at this point, so you grabbed her cheeks, "aitana. stop." you said firmly, trying to ground her. she finally regained control of her breath and looked at you with slightly red eyes.

"aitana, i can assure you that you wanting to kiss me is not a problem. at all. i don't feel weird or uncomfortable or whatever. hell, i feel flattered that aitana bonmatí wants to kiss me." you winked at her, trying to lighten up the mood. she giggled and wiped her nose. you felt relieved when you saw the smile back in her face, "i know this is probably overwhelming for you right now and you have a lot to discover on your own. but i can't lie and say i don't want to kiss you either."

she looked up at you, eyes wide at your confession.

"but if that's something you're not ready to explore, let's leave it at that and let it go."

–

and you did. let it go, that is. for a little while.

none of you spoke about it. you figured aitana should be the one to bring it up when she's prepared, so you went back to normal. as if nothing happened.

until it did.

–

you and almost the whole barça team were hanging out at mapi and ingrid's house for bonding night. you had played a few games and were now gathered around the living-room, watching a movie.

you were sitting at one of the ends of the couch, with aitana cuddling you by your side. you'd often whisper things to her to explain some scene from the movie or make some joke about what was happening. you'd do anything to see her smile and give you her absolutely lovable giggle.

at one point she nudged you to face her. "hm?" you asked, highly aware of how close your faces were. "i'm going to take a nap, wake me up when it's over." she whispered and you could feel her breath on your lips, which was far too intoxicating. you could simply nod and try to not look at her lips.

she smiled as a thank you and flicked her eyes to your lips before gazing back up at you. you felt her inhale a short breath before looking down at your lips again and moving closer, pressing her own against the corner of your mouth. if your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now.

you started at each other, both understanding that that changed something.

she leaned her head on your shoulder again to try and take her nap but there was no way aitana was able to fall asleep now with the thundering in her chest.

–

the ride back to aitana's house was silent. there was unspoken tension between you two and you both knew it.

you got out of your car and walked her over to her door, not quite sure what to say and feeling like a teenager with a crush who's just dropped her date off at home and doesn't know what to do.

you huffed in frustration. the silence was killing you and you had to do something about it. you stepped closer to aitana and carefully cupped her cheeks, looking at her as if asking for permission. she didn't pull away so you leaned in, noses touching, you giving her another chance to back out if she wanted to.

she didn't. so you took your chance and softly pressed your lips against hers.

you honestly didn't know how to describe it. it was tentative, gentle, delicate but - comfortable? like your lips were always meant to touch hers and knew exactly how to move against hers as if you've kissed a hundred times before.

after what felt like ages to you but were actually seconds, aitana kisses you back. you keep kissing for a few more moments before you pull back, hands still cupping the catalan's cheeks and stare at her, breathless.

"i swear, aitana, if you still don't speak after that i–" you're cut off by her sweet little giggle before she presses multiple kisses on your lips. "you want to come in?" she asks, biting her lip to try and keep her grin from widening even further.

"damn, bonmatí. a girl gives you a finger and you want the whole arm." you shook your head in fake disapproval.

"callate." she grabbed your hand and pulled you in.

the rest of the night was spent with you two letting your lips and tongues explore each other's mouths. it started off as shy and tender but as comfort and boldness started to settle in, your kisses got harder and provocative.

however, no matter how much your hands and lips delved into each other, no labels were defined.

and they wouldn't be for the next months to come.

–

a routine started to settle in. you would show up at each other's houses for "best friend's night" and it always ended up with you locking lips. whether it was while aitana was cooking or when she beat you at a board game and you wanted to shut her up.

the same conversation also started to settle in between make out sessions. "just friends, right?" aitana would whisper breathlessly against your lips, and you would nod, agreeing with whatever she wanted so you could press your lips against hers again and again.

"i just," she would cut herself off to kiss you, "can't be," kiss, "in a relationship right now." kiss. you would agree because you would accept anything aitana would give you, no matter how small or little it could be.

you couldn't keep off of each other even at training, with you often pulling her inside closets so you could press her against the wall and muffle her giggles with your mouth. or when she would drag you into the changing room while others were at lunch to playfully bite your lips and leave you winded up.

but aitana was a busy person. she had family, friends and her career to focus on. but all she seemed to focus on now was you. and that was starting to worry her. she never had to make room for someone else in her life since starting her career, except for the casually meeting friends once in a while and visiting her family when she could. but to share everything with someone?

so she started to pull away, she wouldn't reach out to you during trainings, choosing to focus on getting there earlier for gym sessions and staying after to practice some more. this was her life, this was her focus. it had to be. so the "best friend's nights" started to disappear as well, aitana claiming she was too tired after trainings. and she was, she really was. as much as she trained, she didn't feel as fulfilled as before. the more she pulled away from you, the less accomplished she felt. but she also pulled these feelings away.

football was once her entire life. and it would be again.

#aitana bonmati #woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #aitana bonmati imagine #barca femeni x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, injury, brief hospital visit, smut, oral (f. Receiving), smut, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, knotting, biting

Length: ~5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Boo.

-> Masterlist

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

Jeon Jungkook.

He's a good looking guy, above average in almost everything he does, and easy to like. Conversations flow easily around him and friendships blossom left and right- almost everyone knows and likes him. It's hard not to, really; as an Omega, he's naturally passionate and caring, a gentle guy that enjoys making others happy.

You met him at a friend's birthday party, the young wf having noticed you standing mostly all by yourself without really conversing with anyone. He'd been kind enough to introduce himself, stay with you, and keep you there for much longer than you usually stay at gatherings like these.

And right now, he's standing in front of you, smile still on his lips and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets while he sways front and back on his heels after having told you he's interested in you.

Romantically.

"There's a.. You said you collect those stuffed animals, squishmallows, right? There's a new store that sells the really huge ones. We could stop by that store tomorrow, if you'd like." he offers, curious eyes watching you with a glimmer that's just.. Jungkook.

Jungkook is new. Different. He's nothing you'd expect, always doing something you'd never be able to guess- and ut makes spending time with him hoth exciting and a little stressful at times.

His eyes always seem to sparkle when he smiles. It's honestly unfair, how they always put you under their spell with their boba-pearl charm. How can you say no?

How can anyone ever tell him no?

"I.. Okay wait. You.. And me?" you wonder, and he nods, smile turning into a grin that makes his lower eyelids raise. "But I'm not, uh… Are you sure?" you wonder, and he becomes surprised at that it seems.

"I am. I wouldn't have asked you out like this if I wasn't." he says, still swaying a little.

He's always been like this. Never staying still. Always up to something. Constantly moving. Like his body is constantly generating excess energy he can't seem to burn. Like the energizer bunny.

"what makes you think I'm joking?" he asks, and you look down, rather watching the tips of his shoes than his gaze any longer.

You can't stand his gaze. You're gonna melt into a puddle if you look at him any longer.

"I'm just.. Me. And you're you. Shouldn't you want someone more.. Opposite of you, rather than the same?" you ask carefully and it seems that it clicks for him in that moment.

It's technically common sense- alphas get with omegas, omegas with alphas. That's how it goes- or so one might think.

But Jungkook isn't any wolf. He's not ordinary in anything he does- so it's unsurprising that his sub-gender also isn't what one might expect.

"Ah~." he hums mostly to himself, before shaking his hair out of his eyes after the wind had blown it over his face, fingers pulling the strands from his piercings decorating his bottom lip. "Stereotypes. You're talking about me being an omega and all that, right?" he wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." you instinctively say. The regret of your words already starting to make you uneasy. Did you insult him now?

Male omegas tend to be very sensitive when it comes to this. Or maybe that's Stereotypes too?

"No problem, lots of people think that way." he shakes it off, taking a step towards you. "But, rather than explaining to you what is and isn't true about the stuff people say-" he starts, feigning innocence before he grins at you, holding your hands in his now, playfully, just by the tips of your fingers. "-how about I show you?" he asks, and you look back at him.

"huh?" you can only answer, and he sways again, tilting his head to the side a little, swinging your hands a bit.

"Go out with me." he bluntly suggests, grinning brightly. "And I'll show you."

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

Wolf's sub-genders have been the topic of Novels and movies for a long time now.

The most popular trope being the alpha that falls in love with their omega, to live happily ever after. Some of your own favourite media actually includes this stereotype as well- and for a long time, in your head and in many others, this was the most ideal couple amongst wolves.

However, reality is more complex than that, and you're roughly reminded of that with the way Jungkook behaves.

While he does offer a lot of the general traits associated with being an omega, such as his big round eyes and constant need for physical contact, he also doesn't fit others at all. He's muscly, masculine body dressed comfortably in clothes made of soft materials, and his behavior, while gentle and soft in the way he acts, feels oddly confident and almost dominant to you.

He's sure in his walk. He knows his worth.

There's a hand on your back leading you without any force through the store, like a remote control, no need for actual strength.

There's that glimmer in his eyes every time you struggle and ask him for help with something, as if he's amused by the fact that he makes you nervous.

There's that look of victory in his face whenever you seem flustered by any of his words, Luke it's a game he keeps winning.

He's making your head spin.

You're both sitting on a blanket in a calm park- when he lays down, patting the spot next to you in an inviting manner. "Come here." he smiles, and you do so- easily cuddling up to him, surprising yourself even, considering you're not one that's this easy with physical contact like that. But Jungkook? He runs the inside of his wrist over your neck, bashful smile on his lips as he watches you, caring nature of his sub-gender showing in his actions.

"What're you doing?" you wonder, and he grins sheepishly, caught red handed.

"Scenting you." he says. "I- we technically do it differently as wolves but, I don't wanna seem pushy." he admits, and you nod. You know how it usually goes.

You remember your last alpha doing it, licking your neck instead, or biting. It made you anxious. Every bite could've been made to last, after all.

"…Thank you." you tell him due to that, the way he makes sure he's never too forceful making you feel at ease- and slightly guilty. "And sorry." You apologize because of this.

"for what?" Jungkook wonders. "I had a nice day, even better than I could've imagined. I'm feeling really happy right now." the young man explains, and it makes you a little jealous how easy it seems for him to voice out his emotions.

You're not that good at it. Maybe he can teach you?

"For judging." you explain, but he just scrunches up his nose before softly flicking a finger under your chin, teasing you.

"Don't worry. It's normal." he shrugs, before rolling onto his back, your head on his tattooed arm as you watch the clouds as well next to him. "Do you think.. We could try?" he wonders, and after a moment of thinking, you nod.

You know what he means by that. And you want to try as well.

And he swears, if he had a tail, it would be wagging like an excited puppy.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

Your first kiss happens rather Spontaneously.

It's unprepared, a little clumsy, happening in the kitchen after you'd placed a small bandaid over the cut Jungkook had accidentally given himself while helping you cook. Seeing you tend to such a minor wound so carefully just set something off inside him- and he couldn't help himself.

And after the initial shock of it all, kisses seem to be a constant around Jungkook.

As soon as you meet up, there's a quick peck as a greeting, lips barely properly touching, but enough to make the gesture of affection count.

Small kisses on your cheek whenever he's close enough, just to see you turn red, shyness of you just too precious to look away from.

And most importantly? The way he scents you changed.

While pretty tame at first, the entire act of scenting you has become somewhat heated these days- just like now, as he runs his lips over the crook of your neck, back and forth, hands almost sensually running over your body, clothes suddenly feeling itchy.

He never crosses boundaries, never bites where you don't want to, never pushes himself past your limits just because it's easy to do. He's gentle, caring, offers you just what you need in the right amount, easing you into the waters that's his love.

And it makes you brave. It makes you want more.

Your own limbs seem to want him closer as well, your mind slowly becoming more and more trusting towards him, as he builds up the affection every time you spend time with one another.

It started just with cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. Then, the kisses got added to the mix- shy at first, his confidence with you slowly building up towards the point of where you are today; Heated, bodies warm and needy as his hand travels underneath your soft fleece shirt, fingertips carefully meeting the underline of your chest. "Still okay?" He asks, lowly so as if worried he might pop the little bubble you're both in and wake you up from the trance of emotions, but you simply nod, smiling, happy.

And as an omega, he feeds off of your emotions; he thrives in the fact that you're giving yourself into his arms so freely and comfortable, no worries in your scent whatsoever in his presence.

He shamelessly purrs at the way you kiss his collarbone, lips pressing over a tiny little beauty mark he has in that area, making him shiver in pleasure. You've not talked about going all the way yet- and right now, he's not trying to get into your pants at all. You're so attentive to him, offering such kind affection, that its enough for now. He can't deny however that your scent is driving him crazy- making him hungry for even more intimacy than he's receiving already.

He's needy. Craving.

"Can I eat you out?" He asks breathlessly so, and your eyes widen before your cheeks grow a bit red. "You don't have to say yes." He adds at the sight of your shyness, but you just shrug in response.

"I don't know what it feels like.." You start, before you look up at him, and he feels himself feeling upset. How come you've never experienced that? You're so sweet, you should've been able to explore your most carnal desires with someone you trust. "..but I trust you." You say, and his body erupts into happiness.

You trust him.

It washes over him like the hot stream of water in the shower after a long day, making him nod eagerly as he kisses you first and foremost. Jungkook is pretty orally focused, you've noticed; playfully nipping your skin here and there, kissing you randomly, or just running his sensitive lips over the soft skin of the back of your hand, feeling your skin with his mouth and hot breath. So it's not a surprise when he doesn't mind kissing you a bit more chaotically, open mouthed and tongue exploring your mouth with confidence.

He loves you, after all- and he can see, feel, that you're falling for him too.

He makes it all feel so natural that you can't help but giggle at the feeling of his kisses down your bare stomach; dress pushed up by his hands, a grin showing when he notices your reaction to his antics. He feels as if he's high- never having had the opportunity to be in a situation as easy and simple as this; both of you just existing, no words needing to be shared, no roles defined, no goal in mind other than making the other just as happy as yourself.

It's an odd feeling at first, but simply the sight of him so immersed in the act makes it feel ten times more erotic to you than you thought it might. Your breathing is deep, occasional sighs escaping you, soft voice chanting out his name like a mantra to keep you sane; and he starts to feel drunk off of it, teasing licks turning into more determined motions, tongue flat on your most sensitive area, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. All that fills your head is simply your approaching high, not in the slightest feeling like anything you could've done to yourself.

How will it be when you're both in heat?

You've known each other for months now, after all. Your cycle has synced up by now, you've noticed last time he'd taken time away to himself.

Your back arches as you roll your hips closer to him, lost in the ecstasy while his hands hold a firm grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, before he let's go of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to lay down next to you with an impish smile on his red lips. "Hey." He jokingly greets you after you've opened your eyes again, noticing how he's moved your dress back down again as to not have you get cold.

Jungkook lays there with a smile, and you feel funny in his presence like this. You've never had anybody talk to you or treat you like he does ever before- you're used to either being told exactly what to do, or to be scolded for what you're doing or have done- so him talking to you like you're something special makes you a little confused on how to act.

And it makes you scared, because up until now, you've ruined everything good.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

"So have you, you know? Repaid the favor?" Jimin asks, eating his sandwich in front of you while you suddenly turn pale. "Oh." He just humms, while you let your face fall into your hands.

"Oh god, I'm such a nasty bitch, really.." You groan, eyes stinging already at the thought of Jungkook having expected you to get him off as well, just to get nothing in return but a stupid cuddle. The shame washes over you like waves on a stormy day, clashing against your bones with anger that swells up in your chest. You're upset at yourself now, appetite having vanished, and now you're even madder at yourself because Jimin had literally paid for that little piece of cake you'd chosen to eat here, and now you can't even enjoy it anymore.

Hormones are a gorrible thing, especially for omegas. And the stress you have these days just really fucked you over, causing you to drop into a new mental low.

"Hey, no-" Jimin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before a hand reaches out to touch your arm. "-I'm sure he would've said something if he'd expected anything." He says, making you look at him with glossy eyes.

"Great, so you're saying he doesn't want me like that, thanks." You say roughly, and Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Oh god I'm sorry, now I'm all moody and-"

"Everything alright?" Jungkook's voice rings out next to you, as he stands close to your chair now, having spotted you in the small cafe with Jimin while passing by on his way home from work. "Hey, what happened?" He coos worriedly, bending down a little to get a better look at you who's hiding your face in your hands, humiliated about crying in a public setting like this, while Jungkook tries to assess the problem- your scent making him anxious too, but in a different way.

You're his partner. And his instincts tell him to offer you comfort, make you feel better.

You've always been overly emotional like this, but its worse now than ever. Jimin said that it's probably from being raised so roughly by your more than strict parents- after all, he remembers the times he had to make up stories just so you would be allowed to stay over at his family home, or for you to attend school trips. He's put himself into the line of fire constantly just to hang out as a friend with you- your mother hating him growing up for being a 'bad influence', and your father even threatening him with violence after Jimin had cut your hair for you, having grown tired of you being unable to express yourself even in the slightest at the age of 15. You remember how Jimin had grinned to you the next day, after everyone at school genuinely complimented you for your new appearance.

However, years after and now both of you working adults, you still have the habit of breaking down crying at the sight of the slightest thing going south in your life. But Jimin simply smiles watching Jungkook squatting next to your seat, carefully wiping your cheeks and eyes concentrated as he listens in on your hiccups interrupting your words to him, none of it very coherent.

But he manages to understand.

"Baby, it's totally fine, I don't hate you." He chuckles, pulling a chair from an empty table close by to sit next to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you both, by the way." Jungkook laughs, reaching out to shake Jimin's hand. "Jungkook, nice to meet you."

"Jimin. She's been talking non-stop about you." He teases, making you pout while drying your eyes with a napkin, earning a snort from Jungkook who just can't help but find your glare cute.

At the end of the day, you're happy to see your best friend and boyfriend get along so well- both making sure you know you didn't do anything wrong- and that it's totally fine to cry.

Jimin making sure to underline that no one even noticed at all.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her at all." Jungkook says, and it's all a face-off you never hoped you'd have to witness.

Your father had arrived unannounced to apparently bring something over your mother had sent- but you know he just does it to tell you how 'messy' your apartment is, and how you don't have your life under control. You don't know why exactly he does it- any parent would be happy to see their child earn a living from a job they genuinely enjoy; your art selling for high prices, well known celebrities decorating their homes with your works. Jimin had always said that your father is simply jealous- but you can't help but feel small under your parent's strong gaze and harsh words, Alpha father too intimidating to resist bowing to.

And now? Right now your father had told Jungkook to leave, and to yours (and probably your father's too) surprise, Jungkook had declined.

An omega, refusing an alpha's command.

"I'm sorry too, dog, but It's not up to you to decide that." Your father responds, and you worriedly look between the two men, when Jungkook speaks up yet again.

"You're right, it's up to her." Jungkook says. "It's her apartment after all." He says, turning a bit to look at you. You quietly nod, giving him the sign that yes, you want this man out, but you can't bring yourself to say it. It makes Jungkook feel protective of you in this situation, no mate able to stay calm at the prospect of their partner feeling in danger of anything in their presence. "Please leave, or I will call police." Jungkook says, and your father scoffs.

"I'll give you a nice black eye before they get here then, how about it?" He threatens, and while you step in front of Jungkook in a moment of thoughtlessness and reckless protection, you end up receiving the punch right into the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.

"No!" Jungkook barks out, rushing down to your level to check up on you- before spotting your father looking down at the scene with horror.

"I didn't mean to-" He almost whispers, before he takes a shuddering breath, leaving the apartment and you two alone.

You feel dizzy, headache already starting while your hearing sounds like cotton wool had been stuffed into it. It's distant, almost non-existent, and you can only hear Jungkook with your unaffected side. "What's wrong, baby, talk to me.!" he urges, and you sit up a bit straighter, noticing an odd feeling in your ear that makes you run your finger over the opening of your ear canal. When you move it away to reveal red spots of blood, the omega wolf immediately rushes to get his car keys, rushing to the emergency room with you next to him.

An overnight stay, and thorough examination later, you're free to go again, Jungkook making sure to cover all the formalities for your release, while you wait in your room.

"I can't believe he fucking punched you. Oh my baby peanut.." Jimin jokes dramatically, though you know there's genuine anger directed at your father in his words. He's currently keeping you company, his job as a nurse coming in quite handy in times like this, before the door opens to reveal a smiling Jungkook.

"Alright, I've been given your antibiotics and papers, so we're good to go now." He informs you, making you nod, albeit a bit hesitant after being told not to move your head too violently.

"You're lucky there wasn't anything more serious." Jimin sighs.

"Her hearing will be back soon right?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods.

"A month or two, typically. The bruising will be down even quicker I imagine."

And Jungkook nods, keeping in mind to never let you get hurt again.

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

True to his words, a few months later, there's no trace of your past injury any longer.

Now on a spontaneous camping trip Jungkook had surprised you with to help you get over your artists-block and give you some inspiration, you're both entangled inside the van he had rented out, the rain pattering harshly onto the roof of it. You're both unconcerned with the little thunderstorm outside however, rather occupied with each other as he finally uncovers all of your body for himself.

You'd thought it would all feel much weirder than it actually does, but it's Jungkook- every move he makes feels natural at his point, even if the territory you're both walking on right now is absolutely new to you.

The condom over his length makes it a bit easier for him to push himself inside you, your warmth welcoming him eagerly and making him struggle to compose himself. You're just so pretty in the dim orange light that shines inside the van from the front that he can't help himself, his instincts to breed you full of his cum pushing itself into the front of his mind. You'd look so good covered in his release- and you'd smell even better, he knows it already.

Maybe next time. Or next round? How long can you take it?

Right now he's gasping for air, your little whimpers making him feel more sensitive than he's ever felt before. Not even his own heat compares to this burning need he feels growing inside him, your hips rolling up into him, and he's a goner. A growl leaves his throat before he bites around your neck, movements becoming more frantic now in the heat of the moment, needing to claim you as his. "I love you." He hums into your neck, and you respond with your own confession, before his hand angles your leg a little better, his thrusts a lot more desperate at this point. The van is probably visibly shaking from the outside, force of his hips hard enough to fill the small interior of the sleeping area with the wet sound of skin against skin, and your sensual breaths.

You're whining for more, but for what exactly you're not sure of. But again, as if he can read your mind, he knows- hand reaching between you both to press and roll your clit between his fingers, making your core clench and thighs shake with your sudden orgasm, his hips never ceasing to move as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kiss him feverishly.

It gives him the final push to cum as well- though he's a bit disappointed it has to be inside the condom, and not you.

But, Again; maybe next time.

You're overly sensitive, noticing something odd happening, but he reassures you with licks and kisses to the bruised spot he'd bitten over and over on your neck while his arms hold you close. "Did you forget yet baby?" He chuckles amused, making you a bit shy considering the position you're now in.

Completely connected, his knot keeping him inside you at all costs.

"Kook?" You wonder when you notice the muscles in his thighs still trembling occasionally, hips pushing as close as he can get, breaths studdering, gasping. He's moaning quietly every time you involuntarily clench around his length still inside or move too much, and it's in that moment that you realize he's probably still in the midst of his orgasm.

Talk about drawn out.

It doesn't take long for him however to notice your rather impish acts, the way you seem to be very aware and in control of your actions- and much to your surprise, the moment he's able to slip out and discard the filled condom, he's back between your legs, thrown over his shoulders with a grin on his lips that spells trouble in bold.

"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?"

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

"I'm a little worried though." Jimin says, sighing next to you while you reach into the bag of chips he's holding, TV show playing on the screen while you both spend a day together alone. "Yoongi is an alpha- what if I get on his nerves or something? Alphas are said to be quite moody.." He mumbles.

You giggle, adjusting the strap of your tank top that rests right over the permanent scar of Jungkook's forever bite.

"Don't worry Jiminie." You simply reassure him.

"That's all just stereotypes."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #werewolf jungkook

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pedroscowgirl · 2 months ago

Text

love beyond boundaries

hugh jackman x afab!reader

masterlist (part 1,2 & 3 are here)

warnings: smut! minors, dni!

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

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

Words: 9.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After what felt like an eternity, Hugh finally broke the silence, his voice still rough with lingering desire. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a flicker of worry crossing his face as if he feared he might have gone too far.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your touch tender as you reassured him. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice still breathless. "That was incredible, Hugh. I've never felt anything like that."

His eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if savoring the feel of you. "Good," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "I just… you drive me wild, you know that?"

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. You felt the same way about him,he brought out a side of you that was uninhibited, raw, and utterly devoted to him. It was exhilarating, and you craved more.

As you lay there, still entwined in each other's arms, the reality of what you'd just done began to settle in. You'd crossed a line, opened a door that couldn't easily be closed, and the thought thrilled you to your core. You'd asked him to make you pregnant, to fill you with his child, and he'd done it with a fervor that spoke to a deep, primal desire within him.

Hugh was the first to break the silence again, his voice soft but serious as he held you close. “So… do you really want kids after all?” His question was gentle, but it carried the weight of something much deeper.

You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “I want us to be happy,” you said finally, your voice soft but firm. “And if that means having kids, then maybe we’ll get there eventually. But I’m also scared, Hugh. Scared of what it would mean for you, for us. We have to think about your age, about the time we have…”

He nodded, his eyes serious as he listened to you. “I know,” he murmured. “I think about that too. But we have to face the reality of where we are right now. We can’t ignore it.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence as you both contemplated the gravity of the situation. It wasn’t just about desire or love, it was about time, about the ticking clock that neither of you could stop. You loved Hugh with all your heart, but you couldn’t deny the fear that gnawed at you, the fear that time might not be on your side.

After a long pause, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest as you tried to push aside the worries that plagued you. “Maybe we’ll just see what happens, Hugh,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning of our journey together. We don’t have to decide everything right now.”

Hugh’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve got time to figure things out. But it’s something we’ll need to think about, sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. The reality of your situation was something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. But for now, you were together, and that was what mattered most.

Hugh shifted slightly, his hand running gently up and down your back as he continued to speak. “Before we even get to that point, we need to think about other things too,” he said, his tone more serious now. “Like announcing our relationship to the public. We’ll need to do it slowly, subtly.”

You smiled at his words, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind them, but you couldn’t help the small pang of anxiety that tugged at the back of your mind. The idea of going public with your relationship was daunting, especially considering the scrutiny you both would face. But you knew it was something that would have to happen eventually.

“I know,” you replied, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension. “It makes sense, taking things slow. We have to be careful.”

But even as you said the words, the reality of what you were facing began to sink in. The public aspect of your relationship, the challenges of starting a family later in life, it all felt overwhelming, like a storm gathering on the horizon. You tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now, but they lingered, a constant reminder of the complexities that lay ahead.

Hugh seemed to sense your unease, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll handle it together,” he promised, his voice firm and reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it as a team.”

His words were meant to soothe, and in many ways, they did. But they also served as a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead, challenges that you couldn’t ignore. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to focus on the warmth of Hugh’s embrace, on the love that you knew would carry you through whatever came next.

“I know we will,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “But it’s just… a lot to think about.”

Hugh nodded, his lips pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before he settled back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “One step at a time, baby,” he murmured. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

His words were a balm to your anxious thoughts, and you let out a small sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax in his arms. The road ahead might be uncertain, but for now, you were together, and that was enough.

You smiled softly, feeling the tension begin to ease as you let yourself focus on the present moment, on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “We’ll figure it out, Hugh,” you said quietly. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out.”

He pressed a final, lingering kiss to your forehead before settling back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yes, we will,” he agreed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you held onto that thought, letting it anchor you in the uncertain waters of the future. You didn’t have all the answers, and you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew that whatever it was, you would face it together, one step at a time.

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