#seems unlikely (chuckles)(puts head in hands)
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hyuckonia · 1 year ago
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very first 10 seconds of the tsum event and Kalim getting beaned by his tsum and lilia was like "oh guess i wasnt fast enough to stop it myb bro" SHUT UPPPDNAHAAJHA KALIMS SCREAM HAD ME LAUGHING SO HARD I WAS GUNNA CRY whatever i love them so badLMAOOOOO
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cybergoth1 · 2 months ago
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can you do some Jason Todd as a husband headcannon pls !! i just know that when he’s healed , he’s hauling his partner and getting TF out of Gotham , and popping out babies (GIRLDAD) and a nice job in a low-key town and maybe becomes a househusband đŸ˜‹đŸ€­(for real i’m 100% sure he would) but at the same time he is The Jason Todd . Hot , mysterious , emotional but also not , a big fat nerd in a brick body .
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you know your daddy's home.
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pairing: jason todd x fem!reader.
warnings/tags: fluffy, pre established relationship. my silly drabble about raising a daughter with jason todd. girl dad jason todd. husband jason todd.
author's note: hey babe i turned it into a drabble! hope you don't mind it!
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"look, mommy! i'm batman!”
you suppressed a chuckle as you watched your five-year-old daughter standing tall on the couch, wearing a paper mask poorly shaped like batman’s cowl. the little girl came home from school, talking non-stop about the vigilant and refusing to take off her paper mask, even during lunch time, excitedly repeating what her teacher had said about nowday heroes.
"gotham needs me!"
she was trying to make her voice deeper as she jumped onto the floor. the cats, startled by the noise on the wooden floor, bolted away in a stampede.
"you're too pretty to be batman, baby girl".
your husband jason said as he stepped out of the bathroom. the scent of soap and shaving lotion lingered in the air as he walked down the hallway in just his sweatpants. his scars seemed more visible, glistening under the light as drops of water trailed down his bare back and chest.
“but how do you know what he looks like? he's always wearing a mask!” her childish voice rang out indignantly.
he picked her up effortlessly with one hand, while the other gently tugged the paper mask aside to look into her bright blue eyes — blue like his had been before the lazarus pit. her nose, mouth and ears were just like yours, a glimpse of you both in her youthful face.
"he sounds ugly, like a very old sad man. unlike you, princess".
"i'm not a princess, i'm vengeance!"
you laughed behind the stove.
"well, vengeance," he said, walking toward the apartment’s kitchen with her tiny legs wrapped around his hips "you can save gotham after eating your vegetables," he added with a smirk, putting her on the high chair.
she looked at him with wide eyes, as if he’d just handed her a death sentence.
"broccoli?"
"broccoli".
you placed the plate of food in front of her, the broccoli standing out between the rice and meat like a tiny, green nightmare. she looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently appealing to your good side.
you stroked her hair gently.
"if you don’t eat, i'll have to tell batman that his sidekick isn’t eating properly. you can't patrol without eating broccoli," he said, pulling out the chair to sit beside her. that was more than enough. with a disgusted expression, she began to eat, occasionally poking at the broccoli.
"hi, jay," you said, placing your hands on his broad shoulders and giving him a light massage. he softly kissed your left hand before looking up at you.
"how’s my other girl doing?" he asked with a smile, his lips still lingering against your hand. your daughter was so focused on hating the broccoli that she didn’t even notice the display of affection. normally, she would’ve made a gagging noise, followed by a dramatic, “bleh!”.
"she's missing you a lot" you said kissing the top of his head. a familiar scent makes you pause for a moment.
"you're using my shampoo again, aren't you?"
"maybe?"
©cybergoth1, 2025
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diejager · 1 year ago
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Stepdad!König taking a call from your mother while she’s at work - and while he’s brutalizing your sweet pussy in your room, his hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speaks to your mother over the phone like normal 😊
Phone cw: p in v, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, smut, rough sex, creampie, exhibitionism?, tell me if I missed any.
Your heart jumped out of you chest when his phone rang, you panicked, but König looked unbothered, reaching over to pick it up as he kept up his pace, driving his hips forward roughly and ruthlessly. He chuckled lowly, showing you the caller: your mother. Your breath hitched, teary eyes widening and mouth agape with drool rolling down the corner of your lips, you struggled against him, begging for him to ignore the call or to stop if he wanted to answer it.
“You can keep quiet, can’t you, Schatz?”
“No no- please-!”
His hand came down on your mouth, muffling your cries and whimpers, pleading for him to adhere to common sense. Despite your cries, he answered the phone, clicking on speaker - to antagonize you - and your mother’s voice rang out in the room. He greeted her with a normal hi, his tone calm even through the strenuous session, rocking into you, his thick girth and throbbing cock milking your cunt of the load he left this morning after she left.
“I’m sorry for calling so suddenly, hun,” she sounded tired, spending the day working until 7pm.
“It’s okay,” König hummed, placing the phone down beside your head, beside your covered mouth and tear-streaked cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be home later than usually,” she sighed, oblivious to your muffled whines. “I’m going to swing by that Italian place, do you want anything?”
Unlike your choked mewls and breathless keens, your stepdad was still, chest puffing up and pressing down on you, shifting your legs over his shoulders as he drove himself deeper. He was rough, thrusts hard and words degrading, cooing in your ear harsh, degrading names. Telling you what a slut you were for you stepdad, how you were a bitch for whoring around him and Horangi in skimpy shorts and baggy shirts, and how your sweet pussy was so wet and loud for him.
“Could you ask (Name) about supper?”
“Give me a second, ja?”
He flashed you a mean grin, putting the call on mute for better acting, playing the scene of him walking towards your room or where ever you were. His hand moved down to your neck, giving you a hard grip and holding you down, folding you in half, knees bent to your shoulders and feet jerking over his head. Seeming satisfied with his manhandling, the wet slaps of his hips hitting your thighs louder and the head of his cock ramming your spongy cervix, he picked up the phone, unmuting it and pressing it to your ear.
“Dear?”
“H-hi mom-” you gasped, the heavy curve of his cock and the bulging veins rubbing your back wall, you spasmed around him, teeth biting down on your lower lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip.
“You remember that Italian place we went last week?”
“Ye-ah-yeah.”
She paused, her silence ringing louder than every slap that made your stomach bulge. You feared that she heard your slip up, the high-pitched mewl and pants you let out; you feared that crooked grin on his scarred lips and that proud and scheming gleam in his eyes. He changed his fast and rough pace for a deep and precise one, repeatedly aiming for that spot that made your eyes roll and back arch, finger thumbing your engorged clit.
“Are you okay?” You hated the worried tone mixed with that exhaustion, it picked at your heart.
“Yes-!” It came out harsher than you intended, pearly tears slipping from your squinted eyes.
König’s manhandling and pointed hits made your walls clench around him, the coil in your navel tightening to a delirious amount, making your head spin and mind dumb.
“Okay
 Do you want anything for tonight?”
“Ro-rosĂ©, please.”
“All right, I’ll see you tonight then.”
Any later and she would have heard you scream your mind off, you let moans roll off your tongue without restraint, nails digging into his back and back arched upward. He lowered your legs to his elbows, opening your legs to watch you come, your cunt swallowing him to the base, pumping in and then back out with a white ring around is cock from your shared pleasure. He made a sound of satisfaction, hands wandering down to grip your hips, riding out his pleasure leisurely and yours a fiery white blaze that burned through your body.
“You heard her, ja? Looks like we have more time to play.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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sunni-stuff · 6 months ago
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Ghost can draw.
It's just that no one knows.
He doesn't reveal anything to show that he has the skill or speaks about it at all. In fact, the only time anyone has ever seen him put any type of pen to paper work like that is Soap, who watched his lieutenant carve stick figures into a nearby tree while waiting for ex-fil.
Ghost draws.
In an old beat-up sketchbook, he captures you in drawings. He carefully renders the curves of your eyes, the angles of your face, the fullness of your lips, and the way your expressions change with each emotion. He studies how you radiate joy and how certain outfits compliment your features perfectly.
On your birthday, you find out he draws as he hands you a journal, except this one isn't tattered. You hold the black art book in your hands, its condition pristine, a clean cover from front to back. "You draw?"
Ghost stands beside you, arms crossed over his chest, watching you bobble with excitement. "Sorta." He drawls nonchalantly, and you miss the thrilled look in his dark eyes as your boyfriend starts to approach the gift table. "Go on, open it."
You chuckle at his demand, caught off guard by his gift in the first place. Ghost didn't seem like the type to really care for birthdays, gifts, or parties, yet he somehow found where your friends were holding your birthday bash. "This is so unlike you, Ghost." You commented teasingly.
As you opened up the sketchbook, time seemed to slow down. Your eager fingers flipped back the cover, and on the first page, you were met with a sketch of yourself in the nude.
You were in shock, unable to move or fully process what you were seeing. The first drawing was a highly detailed, full-body depiction of you stepping out of the shower. "Uh– Ghost," You managed to speak slowly, your eyes rising to meet Ghost's gaze, noticing the satisfied grin on his lips. "Keep going."
And you did.
You flipped through page after page, each one a detailed drawing of you in various states of nakedness, scattered throughout your house and in different poses. Nothing was left out by Ghost - every inch, curve, and imperfection of your body was captured on these pages, including the birthmark that only your boyfriend knew about.
You were about to ask Ghost about the drawings in front of you when you heard footsteps approaching. In a quick motion, you closed the book with a loud thud. Your boyfriend walked over and casually draped his arm around your shoulder. "What's in the book?" he asked curiously.
"Uh, nothing important! Just some beautiful landscapes that Ghost drew," you stammered out, casting a nervous glance towards Ghost who couldn't hide his smug expression. "Yeah, definitely really beautiful," Ghost added with a smirk on his face.
☀— had this in my head all last night. If it weren't for my brain buddy, @shotmrmiller my head probably would've exploded from holding this in
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luvxkdrama · 3 months ago
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— reflections
pairing : frontman x reader
warnings : mentions of blood, guns, manipulation, toxic love
word count : 2.6k
summary : "We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides."
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—
Y/N adjusted her pink jumpsuit and mask, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She hated everything about this place: the screams, the games, the stench of blood that clung to every surface. She hated being part of this macabre machine, but she didn’t have a choice. Or at least, that’s what she tried to justify herself with.
A year ago, when she first arrived and realised what was actually happening, she had vowed to find a way to end it all. Once she was back home, she worked silently, methodically not sharing her plans to anyone, besides one person.
Hwang Inho.
She met him after the first game as he was a pink guard as well and as much as y/n didn’t trust him at first due to his cold facade, he actually turned out to have the same ideas as her. He was different from the other pink guards y/n has met, he was quieter, observant. Unlike the others, who reveled in their power over the players or fell into obedient silence, he had a sharp wit that he wielded sparingly but effectively. He always seemed to sense when Y/N needed a quick distraction during tense moments.
And so, after they got out of the game, they worked side by side often, and she eventually found herself drawn to the rare moments when they spoke about things unrelated to the game. Cozy nights, wrapped in blankets and talking as if there was no tomorrow.
Y/N tried to stay focused on her mission and not let her mind wander anywhere else but with the time passing by, the moments spent together became significantly more important to her.
Things shifted when one particular night instead of going home, Inho suggested y/n to sleepover at his house as it was pouring rain and the roads were dangerously blurry. One thing led to another and eventually y/n found herself laying her head on his bare chest, feeling safer than ever.
“What are you planning to do once you take down the organisation?” He asked while gently running his fingers across her hair.
Y/N thought for a moment and smiled “I don’t know,” she finally answered “My main focus for now is succeeding this mission and the rest
 we’ll see I guess.”
Inho chuckled and didn’t push further, understanding her answer. He then put his left hand on her cheek and slowly raised her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, smiling into the kiss.
A year passed by quickly and it was time to return there again. Y/N felt ready, she knew what to do and when, especially after Inho somehow managed to find a sketch of the whole building where the games take place. Y/N did know that it was extremely odd to find such a thing out of blue, but knowing how helpful it was, she didn’t try to question it and simply let it slide, trusting him and being too immersed in succeeding her plan.
Before she knew, she was back, on her way to the first game, blending in as just another nameless guard in the sea of faceless pink uniforms.
Finally, the day came. It was the night after the third game when no one would expect anything as security was always on the highest alert after the first game.
Y/N was the one in motion while Inho was explaining the way she will have to make in order to get to the private lounge area. She managed to infiltrate the control room, her pulse pounding as she neutralized the guards stationed there. The room smelled of stale coffee and sweat, monitors flickering with live feeds of every horrifying corner of the facility.
She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had made it this far—there was no turning back now.
After shutting down the security systems and eliminating anyone in her way, Y/N pushed through a heavy door into a private lounge area. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a massive screen casting shadows over the elegant furniture. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure sitting on a leather sofa, his back to her.
Her hand tightened around the gun she held. “Don’t move.”
The man didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You made it quicker than I expected.” His voice was low and computerized due to the black mask.
Y/N quickly grabbed her walkie talkie and told Inho she managed to make it to the private lounge. However, even after waiting for a few more seconds, she didn’t get a reply. She tried once again but to no avail. She started to get nervous as to why he wasn't responding.
Her grip on the gun wavered slightly and she cursed, deciding to take matters in her own hands for now “Turn around. Slowly.”
He raised the whiskey to his lips, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stood and turned to face her, the black mask looking right at her. 
Y/N tried to reach out to Inho once again when suddenly the frontman took out something from his pocket. It was the walkie talkie y/n had given Inho. She froze, fearing the frontman somehow managed to capture Inho while she was busy fighting the soldiers.
"Where did you get this ?" She gulped, taking a few steps closer to him, pointing the gun right at his chest “If you hurt him I swear-”
A low chuckle echoed across the room, y/n looked at the frontman who shook his head before raising his hands to take off the mask.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped.
It was him. Hwang Inho.
In an instant, it felt like all the walls around her started to suffocate her and that the room progressively got smaller. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The man she had spent so much time with, the one who made her feel understood and the one who showed her what love felt like, was standing in front of her in a black coat with the black mask in his hand—the unmistakable mask of the Front Man.
“You—” she started, her voice cracking.
“Yes,” he said simply, his voice colder now, void of the warmth she had grown accustomed to.
Y/N’s mind raced, piecing everything together. All the times he had been quiet, watching, listening. The way he seemed to know more than he let on. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.
“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling.
“Why what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why did I let you get this far? Or why am I standing here instead of stopping you?”
“Don’t,” she said sharply, raising the gun higher. “Don’t come any closer.”
The frontman—no, Inho—stopped, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If I wanted to stop you, Y/N, you’d already be dead. You know that.”
Her finger hovered over the trigger, her entire body shaking. “You knew. This whole time, you knew what I was doing. You were even helping me.”
"Helping is a big word. I’d rather say I was agreeing with your ideas and eventually giving you some clues from time to time.”
Her breath hitched. “What was your goal?”
He shrugged, his gaze unreadable. “I wanted to see how far you’d go. And now, here we are. I never doubted you though, I knew we'd meet here as I saw the ambition and determination in your eyes.”
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them. She hated him. She hated the games, the cruelty, the manipulation.
“I trusted you,” she whispered, lowering the gun slightly.
He stepped closer, this time without resistance. “And maybe you still can.”
Y/N’s heart pounded as he stopped just inches away, “What are you talking about?”
“Finish what you started,” he said simply, his voice low. “Shut it all down.”
Y/N stood frozen, her pulse roaring in her ears as his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. Her whole purpose for being here—to dismantle the games, to destroy everything he had built—now felt like a fragile construct teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull of his words, the horrible, awful logic they carried.
“You’re insane, Inho.” she whispered finally, her voice raw.
Hwang Inho didn’t flinch, didn’t react to her insult. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But if I’m insane then what does that make you?” He asked suddenly “You’ve killed for your cause, Y/N. You killed dozens of guards to get here. And now, here you are—standing in front of me with a gun, and yet you can’t pull the trigger. Why?”
The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re trying to twist this,” she spat, her voice rising. “Trying to manipulate me into thinking we’re the same so I won’t stop you.”
His gaze followed her, steady and unflinching. “I don’t need to manipulate you, Y/N. You’ve already proven my point. You killed those guards to get here. You knew the risks, and you accepted them. You’re not here because you’re better than me. You’re here because you’re willing to do whatever it takes—just like I am.”
"I don't kill those people, Y/N," he continued, referring to the players “I don't force them to come here, I give them a choice. Moreover, after each game they have the choice to stay or continue. They kill the other players to survive and get more money, not me. People are so greedy for money that it makes them blind. They loose the privilege of being called human, they reveal their true nature — monsters.”
She whirled on him, her chest heaving. “Not everyone comes here by choice, some just don't have any other way. So you're wrong Inho-”
He approached her slowly, towering over her now, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Tell me Y/N, what do you think will happen if you kill me ?” he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. “The people who run this—the VIPs—they’ll just start again somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t reach them. Do you really think killing me will end this? I'm a just a puppet who accepted the harsh reality of this world, Y/N.”
Her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that there was a way to stop it all. But she didn’t have an answer.
“Exactly,” he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You think you can destroy this, but all you’ll do is burn yourself out trying. And in the meantime, people will keep dying.”
“So what?” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’re saying I should join you? Help you keep this nightmare alive?”
He didn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice softened as he said, “I’m saying you need to decide what matters more—your principles, or your survival.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I’d rather die than become like you.”
A faint smile flickered across his lips, “That’s what they all say.”
Before she could respond, the door behind her suddenly opened, and two guards stepped inside. Y/N’s stomach clenched, her body tensing and she immediately raised her gun at them, turning her back to Inho who didn’t even flinch. 
"Don’t you get it Y/N ? We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides." He gently put his hands on both of her arms, stepping behind her and looking at her side profile.
Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, her breath catching. She shook her head sharply, the anger rising in her chest. “No,” she spat, her voice bitter. “You’re not me. You’re a killer. And I don’t care what you say—you’re not going to twist this into something else.”
His smile barely flickered. “Funny. I thought you would understand. The line between right and wrong is thin, Y/N. You kill for your cause, I kill for mine. But in the end, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, the room spinning for a second. It was true—too true. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let herself be like him.
“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but full of conviction. She took a step back, turning back to look at him, his hands brushing over her sides before leaving her body completely. The weight of the gun in her hand heavy.
This wasn’t what she signed up for, wasn’t what she had worked so hard for. But standing there, facing him, she realized just how dangerous his words were, how much of what he said hit too close to home.
Y/N stood in the doorway, gun still heavy in her hand, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She suddenly raised her gun and pointed it directly at his heart, her finger twitching over the trigger. She had made her choice—at least, that’s what she had thought. The mission. The goal. It all led to this moment. One pull and it would be over. But now, standing in front of him, the room filled with the echoes of her hesitation, the lines between right and wrong blurred in a way she couldn’t ignore anymore.
She had been ready to walk away, ready to follow through, to do what she believed was right. But something inside her faltered, her resolve cracking like ice under pressure. He had been right about one thing—their reflection was too similar. She had spent so much of her life believing that she was the opposite of him, but with every step closer she took toward him, it felt more like she was staring into a mirror she had spent so long trying to avoid.
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze steady but somehow understanding. “You don’t have to fight it anymore, Y/N. We’re the same. We both do what we believe is necessary. You can either leave, and I will make sure to get you home safely, or you can stay with me and accept the world is a cruel place that can’t be saved.”
Her chest tightened, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was something in his presence—something that made her feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She hated that it was him, hated that it was this—but she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection, the understanding that went beyond their roles in this twisted game.
For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Her breath, his movements, the weight of the gun—everything hung in the balance.
She lowered the weapon, her hands shaking as she realized the truth. She couldn’t walk away from him—not completely. She had tried, had convinced herself that she was different, that she was better, but deep down, she knew they were too alike. Too broken. Too far gone.
“I don’t want to be like you,” she whispered, more to herself than him, but it didn’t matter anymore.
“You already are,” he replied softly, but there was no malice in his words—only something darker, something that felt like acceptance.
And in that moment, something shifted inside her. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Her feelings for him, no matter how twisted or complicated, were real. And maybe—just maybe—there was no escaping this dark connection they shared.
She looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if it was love or something darker that pulled her closer, but when she stood in front of him, their eyes locking, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t walking away. She couldn't.
“Stay” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it held an undeniable weight.
He slowly leaned in and his lips met hers. Y/N didn't move away. She couldn't. She felt interlocked to him in a way she never did with anyone. She left the salty taste of her own tears during the kiss, feeling her heart betraying her own mind.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other, two sides of the same broken coin, too entwined to walk away from each other.
The world outside didn’t matter. The game didn’t matter. In that room, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Alike.
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et6rnalsun · 3 months ago
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PRANKING BOYFRIEND! MATT
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your eyebrows were so close to touching the fucking ceiling as you raised them in skepticism, reading the comments written by little girls under some montages of your boyfriend hitting his brother. something like that seemed almost surreal to you, since at the beginning when you watched the unedited clip that nick had shown you, you’d just laughed like an idiot, finding it funny & just a familiar scene— unlike the fans who seemed to have taken it personally, maybe?
your manicured fingers scrolled through those comments, and you read and read until you lingered on one that stood out more than the others; babbling about how matt could perfectly be so violent and abusive in a relationship and towards his girlfriend, too. rolling your eyes, you fought the urge to answer her and simply turned off your phone, placing it next to you on the bed, matt’s one, you were lying on. the wheels in your head spun until they fabricated an idea that made you snap out of your rotting position, and you cleared your throat. “matt!” you called out in a loud voice, hoping he could hear you from downstairs.
you did it once, again, and then a third time—but to no avail. “come on,” you whined in a huff, taking the phone again as you went to emergency calls, “my love đŸ‘©â€â€ïžâ€đŸ’‹â€đŸ‘šâ­ïžâ€ glowing red and first. you called his number, humming softly as the sound of the ringing vibrated in your ear where you had the screen resting.
when he answered, you smiled, your feet kicking at the sound of his soft and soothing voice, so tired from making dinner for you & his brothers. “matt, can you come up to your room please? i need to talk to you.” you already expected matt’s heartbeat and anxiety to be at a thousand at your statement. in fact, not even a minute later, he was already in the room as he approached after closing the door. “what is it, baby?” he asked you, tilting his head as he looked down at you. he stood over your prone form, and as he did, he placed his hands on the corners of your body, lowering his head slightly to kiss your lips as a sort of greeting. you wanted to give up on everything just because of the way his cold necklace was dangling on your neck, brushing against it.
dramatically, you pushed him away as you sat on the bed and looked at him with the most serious expression you could muster. “i’m for real, we need to talk”
matt frowned, sitting down next to you as he rested a hand on your knee — one way or another, he was always searching physical touch with you. it was melting your heart. “did i do somethin? tell me, honestly, i have no idea” he was in a state of mild panic, it was rare to see you so serious and offended by something. (even if it was all fake) “i didn’t like how you hit nick” these words made him roll his eyes in the sassiest way ever, and he raised a finger that you immediately slapped, continuing to talk. “i’m not kiddin’! what if you hit me like that too?” that was your joke; making him believe that you were seriously worried about something that in reality, you never could.
“you cant be serious”
“i am” you shrugged, looking at how his blue and pretty eyes widened.
silence filled the room for a moment, and he shook his head repeatedly as he took his hand off your knee. “how can you be serious, actually? that— that just means you don’t know shit about me,” his tone was hurt, and he moved to stand up as he looked ready to put an end to whatever that shit was.
but before he could get far, you stood up and practically jumped on his shoulders, your arms around his neck as you hugged him so tight, like he was about to disappear. “love, baby, light of my life, it was a joke,” you quickly told him, your head tilted so you could look directly at his face from your position. he was clearly confused as fuck. “i saw all this shit in the comments on a tiktok ‘bout you hittin nick and i wanted to do this. come on, forgive me,” you added, kissing his cheek lightly as an amused chuckled escaped your lips. and, you were fucked. from behind, he pushed you onto the bed before turning around and throwing himself on top of you, tickling you to death. “you havin fun playin with me like this, huh? really?” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you squirm with the most beautiful laugh in the world. even if he should be angry and everything. “you are a bad person, fuck. the worst”
that said a lot about the kind of person your boyfriend was.
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krosiefics · 7 months ago
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let’s fulfill the prophecy ‱ minsung x reader
M D N I 18+
Synopsis: you and your best friends, Minho and Jisung, don’t mind talking about your sex lives and desires. Though one night when Jisung makes a suggestion about a fantasy all three of you share, you can’t help but take the offer.
WC: 2.9k
Warnings: PURE SMUT, pwp, smut, afab!reader, softdom!minho, switch!reader, sub!jisung, bsf!minho, bsf!jisung, piv, unprotected sex (PEE AFTER SEX AND USE PROTECTION), same hole double penetration, threesome, vaginal sex, double creampie, jisung is super vocal while minho isn’t, oral (f&m receiving), nippleplay (f&m receiving), some m/m action, breeding kink, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, good boy), friends to idk what(lovers???)
probably forgetting some- tee hee sorry
a/n: imma go touch grass now just like chan told us
Even though your two best friends are boys, you never thought much about talking to them about your sex life, they never hindered from telling you theirs either. So tonight didn’t seem any different.
The three of you gathered around the short wooden coffee table that laid in the middle of the living room, blabbing about things that happened this week.
“Ooh! There was a girl that was all over Minho this week!” Jisung exclaimed as if he just remembered the most important thing in the world. His words peeked your interests, you turned your gaze over to the previously mentioned boy, giving him a knowing look.
Minho’s shoulders rose from being put on the spot, “She wasn’t all over me
she was just there?” Minho furrowed his brows in a questioning manner. “She was totally into you! She was hot too!” Jisung said matter-a-factly, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin. Minho simply rolled his eyes at him.
Minho isn’t necessarily the type to have one-night stands unlike Jisung who likes to play around a bit. “Well what about you Ji? You’ve snuck your way into anyone’s pants this week?” Minho changes the subject. Jisung’s eyes usually light up like a kid on Christmas when he’s asked about his sex life. Liking to recall everything while you and Minho just sit there listening
internally disturbed at some of the things he says.
Though, this time, Jisung’s eyes didn’t have that spark. The round cheeked boy simply shook his head, “I’ve been left blue balled all week. That one girl I told yall about got a family emergency notification while we were grinding on each other!” Jisung threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
You let out a snort and Minho chuckles at his words. “What about you?”
“Me? Nah, haven’t gotten laid in a few weeks. Though when I went to the bar last weekend these two random dudes offered to do a three way with me-“
“Shit, a threesome sounds like so much fun! I wanna do one!” Jisung cut you off, “How was it?!”
“Well if you would let me fucking finish- I turned them down cuz my friend I was with puked.”
“Aww, would you have said yes if she hadn’t puked?” Minho pokes at you jokingly.
“Yeah probably, it’s seems like it’d be intresting- but at the same time I’d want them to be trustable people since I’m guessing it’d hurt like fuck! Don’t wanna be just left to clean up myself, you know.”
As you rambled you failed to notice Jisung suggestively nudging Minho with his elbow. Minho stared between him and you, before realizing what Jisung was indicating. “Jisung what the fuck?” The black haired boy stared at the younger. You look between the two confused.
“Oh c'mon Min! It’d be fun don’t ya think?!” Jisung whined, Minho continued staring at him as if he was crazy. “What is it?”
“This dumbass just suggested that we have a threesome.” Minho spat, though he’d never admit aloud that the idea slightly aroused him.
“Wait
you wanna try it too, right Ji?” You ask, Jisung nods frantically in response. “Do you wanna try it Min?” Minho stared at you as if you’d lost your mind by agreeing with Jisung. “I mean
I guess, but won’t you think it’s weird?”
“Oh c’mon! It’s for scientific research to determine if we like it or not.” You whine just as Jisung had done prior. “I guess.” He answered unsure. You notice his uneasiness, “Hey, if you don’t wanna do it we won’t.” Minho smiled at you appreciatively, “No, I want to do it.”
“Are we doing this or what?” Jisung grinned, popping up from his spot on the floor and making his way to your bedroom door. Your heart raced with anticipation, you’d be lying if you said you’d hadn’t thought about this before
when your best friends are as hot as Minho and Jisung are, how could you not fantasize about them at least one time.
You bolted up from your spot on the floor and towards your bedroom, pulling Jisung inside. “C’mon Min!” Jisung called out to the elder who just watched as the two of his best friends just ran off to a room to have sex together. Nonetheless, Minho rose from his spot, walking towards your now open bedroom door. As Minho neared the door, he watched as Jisung had his lips attached to your neck.
You tilt your head, allowing him more space to nibble and suck at. Your eyes shifted to the man who was standing at your door, you motioned for him to come over. “We’re actually doing this then?”
Minho sighed, arousal shooting quickly to his cock. “We can stop if you want.” You stated, Jisung whining at your words. Minho shook his head as he neared the two of you. “You guys are actually insane.” The feline-eyed boy chuckles, cupping your cheek in his hand. You melt into his touch with a sigh.
Small moans began flowing from your mouth as Jisung bit down along your collarbone before licking a stripe on the spot. “Ji,” You scrunch your eyes, hands flying to his hair. Jisung pulled away from your neck with a smirk. As Jisung fully removes himself from you, Minho decides to take the lead and back you towards the bed, falling onto the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.
Minho guided you gently to lay down. “You sure you want this?” He stared down at you, he noticed how flushed your cheeks were and the multiple marks that Jisung had left on your skin. “God yes, shit, this might just be an excuse at this point.” You bashfully confess, turning your head away to avoid eye contact. “Oh, she thinks we’re hot!” Jisung piped up, you felt the weight of the bed dip to your left. Jisung hovered over you, his face coming into your sight. “Don’t worry babe, I’ve thought about this before too. How could I not, you two are ridiculously hot.” He grins before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
Your eyes follow Jisung’s as he turns his gaze to Minho who just stands there, lip caught between his teeth. “He’s probably fantasized about this more though.” Though you weren't looking at him, you knew he wore a teasing smirk. “Oh fuck you Ji.” Minho groaned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “That’s what I’m trying for you to do.” Growing annoyed, Minho pushes Jisung onto the bed, harsher than how he guided you down.
“Hey pretty,” Minho turned his gaze to you, his eyes burning with lust, “Wanna help me out with this one while I take care of you?” You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, Minho’s sudden change in demeanor fully arousing you. You quickly rise from the bed and straddle Jisung’s hips. Jisung stares up at you with rosey cheeks. “You gonna take care of me baby- oh fuck!” His teasing was cut short with the roll of your hips. His hands fly up to your hips, trying to guide you to move faster, but you’re faster, slapping his hands away. “If you’re a good boy I’ll let you touch later.”
Jisung groans loudly at your words, you note how his cock twitched under you at the pet name. You continue rolling your hips into his, soft whimpers falling from both of your mouths. Suddenly, a pair of hands start trailing along the curves of your body, trailing their way down to the hem of your t-shirt. You could feel Minho’s warmth behind you. His hands stop right at the hem, as if the boy behind you were asking to continue. You were quick to nod, pleas flowing from your mouth.
Minho tugged your shirt up and over your head, your chest now almost fully exposed to your best friends. Jisung watched as you grind down on him as Minho took your shirt off. He could see how your nipples pebbled through your bra. Jisung’s hands unconsciously moved to touch them, but yet again you smacked them away before he could touch you. “What did I say?” You tsked.
Jisung simply whined. “Shirt.” You order below, he’s quick to understand what you mean, peeling his shirt from his body, tossing it somewhere in the room.
You stared down at the flushed boy, his abs flexed and his nipples hardened. You reach down and pinch one of his nubs, twisting and pulling at it as whines flow from Jisung’s mouth. “Fuck, baby c’mon! Lemme touch you already
I wanna touch you.” He babbles. You hunch over, taking one of his nipples in your mouth, nibbling at the nub teasingly as Jisung’s cock throbbed against your cunt. “Holy fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Suddenly you’re pulled away from Jisung’s chest. Hands harshly gripping your hips before hesitantly cupping your breasts, you throw your head back, resting it on Minho’s shoulder. Minho takes this as a chance to suck at the skin of your neck. Trailing his teeth along your neck before leaving feather kisses under your ear.
Your hips rolled needily into Jisung below you. The latter staring up with an arousal driven gaze as he watched you grind into him, the feeling of your warmth against him, Minho kneading at your tits and his mouth all over your skin
the skin that he, Jisung, wanted to so desperately touch. “Baby
please. I’ve been a good boy- I’ll keep being a good boy, just let me touch you.” Jisung fisted the sheets next to him as your hips edged him towards his climax.
“Fuck, Imma cum.” He warned. And almost immediately you lifted yourself from him, a broken moan slipping past his lips from the loss of friction, Minho also frowning at the loss of contact with your tits. “Baby, why’d you do that?”
“You said you were gonna be a good boy, no?” You teased him, his round cheeks flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red. You smirk at his reaction.
You tugged at the elastic waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs till you could kick them off somewhere. Both Jisung and Minho watched as you removed the articles of clothing, the sight making their cocks throb in their pants. “Min, care to help tease him for a bit.” You offered, your eyes burning into Jisung’s. Minho nodded, his eyes turning towards the younger boy. Minho didn’t fail to notice the bulge Jisung was sporting through his jeans.
“Pretty boy, you want help with these?” Minho smirked, his fingers trailing along the hem of Jisung’s jeans, looping around one of the belt loops. “God please- fuck Min!” Jisung groaned, willing to do anything at this point to be touched or touch someone. Jisung reached for Minho’s wrist but stopped himself, assuming he’d get rejected again.
Minho let out a deep chuckle before wrapping his fingers around Jisung’s wrist and guiding it to his face. “I’ll let you touch me for now.” He cocked his head as his fingers worked Jisung’s zipper down. You watched as the two boys maneuvered around to get Jisung undressed, until Jisung laid there fully naked. His cock erected, resting on his lower abdomen. Your mouth watered as you stared at the pretty boy’s cock. You wanted him in your mouth- no you needed him in your mouth.
“Minnie, can you prep me?” You asked Minho though your eyes remained on Jisung’s cock. Minho’s gaze shifted from Jisung to you. He noticed your staring and shifted over, freeing up space between Jisung’s legs. “You sure?” Minho asked as you bent over, leaving your ass exposed to him. “Yeah, I am
are you guys?”
“Fuck yeah.” Minho breathed out. “Can one of yal fucking touch me
please?” Jisung cried out, his cock leaking precum as it throbbed painfully.
You roll your eyes playfully before leaning in and taking the whining boy into your mouth. A waterfall of ‘fucks’ and ‘so good baby’ fell from his mouth, Jisung’s eyes screwed shut, but not until he started feeling vibrations against his cock. His eyes snap open, seeing how you took his cock into his mouth so easily, your lips so pink and wet around his shaft.
Another wave of vibrations surrounded his cock, he finally noticed that they were your moans. Your moans as Minho ate you out from behind, wet sounds of your juices mixing with his spit as his fingers pumped into your sopping cunt. “Fuck Min, keep doing that! She’s taking me so well!” Jisung cried out, his knuckles were white with how tight he was holding on to the sheets, just like how he was holding off his climax as best he could.
“I think you’re good now, pretty.” Minho said with a huff, his face wet with your arousal. You pulled away from Jisung’s throbbing cock with a ‘pop’.
Swinging your legs over the younger’s hips, straddling him as you had previously. “You ready Ji?”
“More than ready, princess.” Your eyes go wide at the sudden nickname, your heart unreasonably hammering into your chest. You shake your head out of it. The messy haired boy hisses as you guide his cock towards your entrance.
You sink down slowly onto his cock, the two of you letting out pornographic moans at the feeling. His cock fit you so well, you could feel every vein and curve of his cock as you unconsciously clenched around him, prompting him to buck his hips slightly.
Jisung’s gaze fell on your face, how your eyes scrunched up with pleasure as you began rolling your hips onto his, the new feeling already edging you both towards an orgasm. His gaze fell to your lips and how they formed a small ‘o’ shape as breathy moans left them. Fuck, he wanted to kiss you so bad. You must’ve picked up on his desire because before the two of you knew it, you were kissing.
Lips moving sloppily against each other as your hips started moving faster and as Jisung started thrusting into you. “Sungie.” You whimpered into the kiss, his hands flying to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. Jisung didn’t even care if you’d be upset at him touching you. But you didn’t care, you need his hands in you. “I’m right here princess.” He cooed as his hands made their way down to your hips, steadily holding as he thrust into you.
You moan into the kiss when you feel something else probing at your entrance. It was Minho’s finger. The older boy watched as his younger friends made out like hormonal teenagers. His finger traced along the rim of your pussy which was currently taking Jisung. “I’ve waited a bit, no?”
Minho smirked as he pushed his finger inside your hole, both you and Jisung letting out moans.
Minho worked his fingers in and out of you, stretching your hole even more while Jisung pounded into you. “You ready?” Minho asked, his hands rubbing circles on your waist. “God, need to feel both of you- fuck, now please Min- fuck Sungie!”
“Oh fuck!” Jisung and you moaned simultaneously as Minho pushed his cock into your tight cunt. The stinging pain of both of their cocks only turning you on more. “Fuck, Imma cum- fucking shit.” Jisung warned, his cock twitching deep inside you along Minho’s. “Fu...f-fill me up- you’ve been a good boyf fill me up baby.” You slump your head against his as Minho pounds you from behind.
Jisung spills over the edge, filling you up with every last drop of his seed, your pussy milking him so perfectly. Minho continued rutting into you, Jisung cried out from the overstimulation but nonetheless didn’t pull out. “Fuck, Minnie Imma cum- fuck Min!” A tear fell from your eye as your mind went blank with ecstasy. Your climax hit you like a truck as you squirted around both of their cocks, leaving Jisung’s abdomen soaked.
“Fucking hell.” Minho grunted at how tight you clenched around him that it sent him over the end. His hips stuttered as he filled you with his seed, both his and Jisung mixing within yours.
Your body felt limp as they both pulled out. The icky feeling of their cum rushing down your thighs made you cringe. Minho guided you to lay on your back before running off somewhere.
Both you and Jisung laid there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving and faces flushed.
“We just did that.” You huffed out a laugh.
“We just did that.” Jisung confirms, his voice sounding so raspy.
Minho returned with a warm towel, nudging your legs open before cleaning you. “I love you guys.” You said after cleaning up everything. Minho turned to you with a small smile on his face, his hands moved to cup your cheek before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. The two of you pull away, a grumble catching both of your attentions. Your gaze shifted to Jisung who pouted, wanting a kiss for himself.
You giggle before giving him a kiss as well. Jisung melts into your touch so easily, “I love you guys too.” He sighed into the kiss, pulling away before cuddling you into his chest. “You guys are still crazy for that.”
“Oh c’mon Min, you know you liked it.” You scoff, the feeling of Minho’s arms wrapping around both you and Jisung comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I love you guys too.”
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chuluoyi · 1 year ago
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i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojođŸ„Č and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
àż àż” đŸ•°ïž 「 09:45 P.M 」
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now
 thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
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emmaofnormandy · 8 months ago
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Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.
Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.
( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)
***
‱ How it all began

You are his twin, his other half
 What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”
What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.
“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.
You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.
“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”
He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.
Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.
“Let us ride, shall we?”
And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.
Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:
“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.
Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?
When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.
You are the light of my world, Y/N.
As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.
“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”
That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.
“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.
You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.
A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.
Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.
“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”
A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.
Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.
“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”
“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.
You shrug your shoulders.
“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”
And you flash him a mischievous smirk.
Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants
 as does Dreamfyre.
It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up
 even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.
*
There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.
“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.
You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:
“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”
Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:
“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”
You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.
“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”
Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.
“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”
“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.
You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.
“Perhaps.”
And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.
***
‱ Summer Children.
His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?
Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.
Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.
Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake
 Here he comes, visiting you.
Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please
 but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.
Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.
Yet when the door opens
 and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.
“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”
“My dear Y/Nickname
”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”
Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.
“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”
One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.
“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure
 just in case.
“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.
You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.
“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.
Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:
“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”
“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.
That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.
*
Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.
“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.
You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:
“I performed my duty well.”
Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.
“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.
The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.
“My brothers.”
“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”
“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child
 congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”
Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.
“Are you well?”
“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”
“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”
“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name
 so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”
No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles
 who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness
 though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.
“I must see her!”
Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.
You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.
“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must
”
“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”
You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.
“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”
“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.
The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.
Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.
“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”
Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.
“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”
You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.
“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand
 thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”
“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”
A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.
“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”
“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.
“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.
You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.
“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.
Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.
“I cannot believe I am his father.”
“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”
At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:
“Thank you for believing in me.”
He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:
“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”
***
Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.
“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”
Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.
“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”
“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”
“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.
“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”
Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.
*
“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.
“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”
“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.
“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.
Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.
“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.
“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”
Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.
“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”
But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger

***
‱ Midnight Sun.
Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.
“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and
 weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.
“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but
”
Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.
“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”
“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”
“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.
“Mommy
 flew.”
“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”
And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.
When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.
It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:
“Amazing!”
“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”
“Yes! More, more! Please!”
Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.
Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.
“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.
“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.
You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.
Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.
Such is the dance of the dragons.
**
The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.
“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.
“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon
 I would like to thank you.”
“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.
“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”
“Y/N
”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.
You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.
Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.
“Whatever our souls are made of
”
“
mine and yours are the same.”
***
‱ Epilogue.
Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.
Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.
She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.
She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there
. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.
“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”
Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.
“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”
Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.
“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.
Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.
“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”
“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”
For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.
“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”
Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.
“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”
“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”
You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.
“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”
And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.
“Do you think
?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.
“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”
Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.
“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”
“I know. But
”
“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”
“I just worry. I do not wish
”
Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.
“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight
 or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”
Aegon smiles quietly.
“How can you convince me that easily?”
“It’s the truth I speak. Besides
 I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”
“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.
You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.
Oh these delights

1K notes · View notes
benevolentbones · 10 months ago
Note
gideondaughter!reader and spencer first time talking when the team goes to dinner and spencer is just a mess talking to her
thank you sm for the request!! hope you enjoy<3 requests are still open i’ll be working through them!
kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 1
part 2
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warnings: mentions of alcohol, light flirting.
word count: 1.5k
summary: it’s gideon’s birthday dinner and the team are here to celebrate.
“are you sure he booked it for 8:30?” jj hummed, holding her clutch purse close to her sage green maxi dress.
“yes. gideon party of nine at mastro’s, 8:30pm.” spencer recalled, having the time and place drilled into his mind in fear of being late.
“party of nine? but there’s only eight of us?” elle’s brows contorted, she counted everyone in the room. jj, morgan, reid, garcia, hotch, prentiss, herself and then gideon who was yet to show, that was only eight.
“maybe he’s bringing a date?” penelope chuckled, her hands smoothing down the hem of her fitted pencil dress.
“gideon? with a date? i highly doubt that.” morgan snickered, leaning against garcia.
the group of agents waited rather impatiently for gideon to arrive to the restaurant. all adorned in their best dress for the awaited man of the hours birthday dinner.
hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.
“it’s only 8:25, he will be here.” he muttered out.
spencer began to fumble with his hands, he would class himself as a fairly patient man, the only thing on his mind currently was who the mystery ninth guest could be. he didn’t like not knowing things, it was part of being a profiler he guessed.
the doors to the dimly lit restaurant swung open, jason gideon walking in full stride with a grin on his face. he wore a navy blue suit jacket paired with his signature chinos.
“finally you’re here, they’ve been complaining for the last ten minutes.” prentiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip.
“its not even 8:30, i said i would be on time- but y/n here couldn’t find the shoes she wanted to wear.” gideon let out a small chuckle as a figure walked through the doors behind him.
a girl, roughly in her early twenties stood beside gideon. her hands clamped together in front of her, a black satin dress adorned her figure, hugging her nicely, which she paired with matching black heels.
“well i found them in the end, dad.” she mumbled out, greeting the group with a small smile.
half the team stood there it awe, mouths gaped and eyes locked on the latest arrivals.
“you clean up nice, jason.” hotch nodded towards the older man, then turning his sights on you.
“beautiful as ever.” he smiled, which he rarely did, and leaned over to give you a hug.
“thanks uncle aaron.” you grinned back, embracing his warm hug.
“i’m sorry you need to catch us up real quick- dad? uncle?” morgan titled his head like a confused puppy.
“i didn’t realise you’d have trouble putting two and two together, morgan. this is my daughter, y/n.” gideon mused, ushering you further into the room.
you held out your hand, derek quickly took it in his, giving it a small shake, cogs in his mind still visibly turning.
“and aaron isn’t actually my uncle- he just acts like it.” you pulled your hand back, returning it to your side.
gideon quickly introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone seeming to come to terms with the fact gideon had a ‘secret’ daughter that he never once brought up.
all the while spencer stood, hands glued to his sides as he eyed you. he had never seen someone so perfect, the way the dress hung from your frame, the way you politely greeted every member of the team.
when gideon had finally reached him to introduce y/n to him, he was caught off guard.
“reid, meet my daughter y/n, im sure it’s not as hard for you to understand.” gideon hummed, making a dig at morgan who had migrated with the group to where the table was set up.
unlike the others, you kept your hand to yourself, but shot spencer a sweet smile.
“it’s really nice to meet you dr. reid- my dad has told me so much about you, i know you’re not big on handshakes.”
spencer’s heart was practically doing backflips at this point. he was completely enamoured by you.
“really nice- to meet you too.” he managed to stutter out.
gideon internally rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what was happening.
“how about we sit down and look at the menu.” he began to usher his daughter towards the table, spencer following quick at his heels.
by the time the three of them had reached where the table set for nine was, the rest of the team were sat, eagerly awaiting them. the only free spaces were at either end of the rectangular table, and an extra place next to the end seat.
“hey gideon come look at this” jj beckoned the older man over, to the head of the table. he briefly turned back to his daughter, before he could utter a word she nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t be sitting with him.
“guess we can sit down at the end together.” you affirmed, shuffling to the free seats with spencer by your side.
once seated, everyone began flipping through the menu, all besides spencer who’s gaze every so often flickered over to the girl beside him, who seemed deep in thought about what she was going to order.
“what are you going to get?” she asked, attempting to make quiet conversation with the man at her side.
spencer hummed, he had researched the restaurant before hand noting all of the dishes he might like.
“the uh- the pasta, i think.” he paused for a moment. “what about you?” he cursed the heat that rose to his face, lifting his hand to loosen the dark purple tie around his neck.
you smiled, still scanning the menu, taking glimpses of spencer in his flustered state.
you had heard many things about most of the team throughout your fathers years of working with them, and when he finally allowed you to meet them, you were most excited to meet spencer.
“i might have that too, it sounds good.”
a few hours had past since everyone had sat down, everyone had finished eating and were now onto their fourth round of drinks, all besides you and spencer.
everyone was deep in conversation about a case from a few years back, obviously you had no clue what they were talking about.
you turned to spencer, who seemed to have gotten more comfortable being in such close proximity to you.
“i swear it feels like we are sitting at the kids table at a christmas dinner.” you giggled to yourself.
“i know right- it’s it’s like we aren’t even here.” spencer returned the chuckle, his heart beating a little faster.
“how are you enjoying the night- i hope im not boring you too much, if you want to join the rest of them feel free.” you mumbled out, eyes migrating to your hands that you had placed on your lap.
“no no- i like it here, i like you- i mean i like being with you i-“ spencer fumbled on his words, causing you to smile. god he was a complete mess.
you reached a hand over, placing it on spencer’s forearm. he could swear his skin felt like it was burning from your touch.
“i like being with you too, spencer.” you whispered out, a soft pink blush dusting your cheeks.
his hazel eyes locked with yours, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. he was partly confused as to why someone like you had enjoyed his awkwardness and rambling.
to say he had little experience talking to women in more than a friendly way, was an understatement.
he was completely out of his depth, and the fact that your father, his boss, sat at the other end of the table made things a little more awkward for him.
“you look really-good tonight, by the way.” he managed to mumble out, without sounding like a complete idiot.
this caused your face to flush, darting your eyes away from him briefly.
“thank you spencer.”
“would you maybe want to-“ before he could continue, gideon had stood up from the table, all eyes were on him.
“lets go y/n, your old man is getting too tired for this.” he joked.
“oh right-“ you stood up quickly brushing off your dress, you did a small lap of the table thanking everyone for the lovely evening and telling them it was great to meet them.
you then followed gideon out of the room, all remaining eyes were now on spencer who slumped down into his chair.
“that’s rough man, you had all night and didn’t even ask her out.” morgan shook his head lightly, feeling somewhat bad for the boy genius.
before spencer could say anything, he watched you dart back into the room, a piece of paper in your grasp. you quickly placed it in spencer’s hand before pressing a light peck to his cheek and running off out of the restaurant again.
the now flustered brunette un crumpled the paper, scanning the scribbled words.
thanks for talking all night, id love to go out with you sometime x
555-555-555 - y/n
“never mind- atta boy!”
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nottriddlethis · 2 months ago
Text
. If you are ill, use it fully
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
summary: everyone calls you a Slytherin princess. Cold, beautiful and out of reach. You've never been interested in someone. But Mattheo Riddle..intimidating and confident, and you are too ill tonigh to contrtol yourself.
warnings: none i guess? Despite a little bit of soft Mattheo, some deep kisses, and a lot of words, but I love some fluff tension
. ✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
It was the middle of the night, and you found yourself unable to sleep. The dorm felt suffocating—too warm, too oppressive. Wrapping yourself in a thick blanket, you slipped out of bed and padded quietly down the spiral staircase, your steps soft against the cold floor. The Slytherin common room, on the contrary, was cold and dimly lit, the greenish glow of the underwater windows reflecting off the dark stone walls.
Halfway down the stairs, you froze. Mattheo Riddle stood at the bottom, leaning casually against the banister, his dark, piercing eyes catching yours. He was smoking. Brazenly and shamelessly. He was as intimidating as ever, with his air of detached confidence and a coldness that made your stomach tighten. Dangerous, they all called him, and not without reason.
“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, smooth, and sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. It seems, you heard his voice so close and so raw for the first time ever.
You clutched the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Kind of. It’s
 too hot in there,” you murmured, barely audible, and moved to step past him.
He watched your every step piercingly, heavyly. To put it bluntly, you were used to guys looking at you, wanting to talk to you, noticing your appearance and not depriving you of their attention. You often heard whispers like "Slytherin princess", "Slytherin prude", "snow queen" just because you didn't throw yourself at anyone who looked at you. But they never looked at you like that. And it made you awkwardly make your every movement under the fastest rhythm of your heart. Besides you weren't at your good condition. You didn't want him seeing you like this.
But Mattheo, as he often did, didn’t let things go so easily. Without a word, he turned and followed you into the empty night common room. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting flickering shadows over the furniture. You sat down on the sofa closest to the flames, tucking your legs under and wrapping yourself with the blanket. You thought he might leave you alone, but Mattheo took a seat beside, his presence unsettling and magnetic at the same time.
“You look awful for Slytherin princess” he said bluntly, but there was no mockery in his tone, only observation.
You gave a weak laugh, lips curling faintly at the corners. “Slytherin princesses turn into grindylow at night.”
Mattheo chuckled and tilted his head, studying you. You were definitely not at your best now. Your hair was knotted and disheveled. Your eyes were red and slightly puffy. And summing up, you looked surprisingly simple and free, unlike the you everyone noticed: always confident, well-dressed, with perfect hair and makeup. Like a princess, really.
But even right now could he afford to reach for you? He raised his hand, reached out and lightly touched your hair, his fingers brushing through the messy strands. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You turned head slightly, only to find Mattheo's dark eyes fixed on the strands of your hair. Emboldened by the lack of protest, he began carefully untangling the knots, his movements slow and deliberate.
You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edges of the blancket to keep yourself grounded. The cold room suddenly felt warmer, and you wasn’t sure if it was because of the fire crackling in the hearth or the way Mattheo’s fingers were brushing against your scalp. Your heart raced as you felt his fingers glide through your now smoother hair. Every now and then, his knuckles would graze the back of your neck, sending a flutter of something you couldn’t quite name straight to your chest. It was disarming, this softer side of Mattheo, the boy you’d always thought of as sharp-edged and untouchable.
You sat in silence for a while, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire. Сombing your hair one last time, he ran his fingers over your forehead a little longer, gathering the curls. Then, he finally realized an unusual warmth. “For Merlin's sake! You’re burning up.”
“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, but your trembling hands gave you away. Mattheo frowned and leaned closer, his palm brushing against your forehead more longer. The touch that made you take your breathe away again. Tremble and lean to desired cool.
“You have a fever,” he said sharply. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a cold compress, pressing it gently to your forehead. “You shouldn’t be down here like...” The sound of your moaning at the cold compress squeezed his heart in a vice. For Merlin's sake.
You pulled your blanket tighter around yourself. Mattheo looked down and let out a low sigh, his expression softening in a way that was rare for him. “You should't wrap yourself up, it won't help.” Without another word, he tugged the blanket off your shoulders, ignoring your weak protest. He watched as cold air of common room sends goosebumps to your body. How they run over your open shoulders, down to collarbones and arms. He was sure that if he looked even lower, he would see the outlines of what his imagination had already drawn.
"If you wrap yourself up like that, the temperature might rise even higher. You need something in between.." he put the blancket aside. And when the cold unpleasantly licked your body, you protested even more desperately. You were going to hug yourself with your hands but your feverish brain began to work ahead. You turned to Mattheo, stretching your hands forward in a silent demand.
For just a second, surprise flashed in his eyes, and then was immediately replaced by satisfaction. Before you could react, he slid an arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly into his lap.
“Oi, I didn't think you really do” your quite voice was a mixture of surprise and indignation, but he silenced you with a look.
“I don't hesitate” He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping securely around you. His hands, warm and steady, rested lightly on your sides, radiating heat that chased away your shivers.
. ✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
For a few moments, you sat stiffly, your heart racing, but then you relaxed into him, too tired to analyze. His warmth was soothing, and the quiet sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear was oddly comforting.
“You don’t have to
” you began, but Mattheo interrupted. “Just stop arguing and rest,” he said firmly, his voice low and surprisingly gentle. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”
You smiled faintly, your eyelids growing heavy, brain as dizzy as it was for letting you say things directly “And you’re bossy. For the first time in my life I want to obey”
Mattheo clenched his jaw, trying not to let the wave of heat spread throughout his body. The unattainable and cold Slytherin princess asked for his arms and spoke into his neck about submission. He took a deep breath and spread his legs wider, so that, Merlin forbid, she wouldn't feel the force of her influence on his body. “Get some sleep, princess. I’ll keep you warm.”
And as the fire crackled softly and the world faded into quiet stillness, you let yourself drift off, safe in his arms. Your breathing was slow and deep, but sleep eluded you. Your cheek rested against Mattheo's shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle, lingering scent of his cologne. It was earthy and warm, with faint woody undertones that seemed to ground you in the moment. The scent was intoxicating, pulling your attention in a way you have always dreamt under cover of night and with the curtains drawn.
Without even realizing it at first, you leaned closer, cold compress fell down, your nose brushing near his neck as you took in his scent more deeply. It was comforting, yet strangely alluring. Shamelessly, you murmured, half-asleep but sincere, “You smell good.”
Mattheo stilled for a moment. He hadn’t expected the comment, and the way your voice sounded—soft and unguarded—sent an unexpected jolt through him. A low laugh escaped his lips, though his heart felt as if it had skipped a beat. “Thanks, I guess,” he replied, his tone dark and teasing, inside, something stirred. The way you were now
 made him crave your soul and body even more.
As you shifted slightly, pressing closer into the crook of his neck, Mattheo swallowed hard. His usual cool detachment felt as if it were unraveling, thread by thread. You suddenly trusted him enough to be vulnerable, to rest against him like this, and it was both disarming and... exhilarating. “You’re shameless, you know that?” he teased, his voice low and edged with warmth. He didn’t mind at all: the way you clung to him, the way you made his guarded world feel just a little less cold. The way the unattainable girl were sitting on top of him.
" 've lways been" you confessed. The scent of him—warm, woody, and impossibly him—was enough to make you feel this way, even in your hazy, half-awake state. You finally felt that you can be your imperfect self. You didn't try to stop yourself, the words spilled from your lips.
“Mattheo?” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the stillness.
“Hm?” His low hum vibrated against your lips where they were pressed lightly to his neck. Not-so-close-enough.
“Can I
” You paused. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you swore you could hear it echoing in the room. But you pushed forward, unable to stop now. “I want to kiss you”
The demand hung in the air, fragile and trembling. For a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard you. But then you felt it—his body stiffening ever so slightly, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he pulled back, just enough to look at you. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, burned with an intensity that stole whatever composure you had left. No one was going to believe him. Slytherin princess..
“You’re asking for permission or what?” he murmured, his voice low and edged with raw desire. His lips curved into a slight smirk, but there was no mockery in his expression—just breathtaking attraction.
You nodded, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. "My first..."
You didn't even finish. A low, primal growl escaped his mouth. Damn it. She was as innocent as desired by everyone. So fuck no he is going to share from now and on.
You was the first to close the gap. Your lips brushed his softly at first, tentative and hesitant. It was slow, almost unsure, but still enough to make Mattheo’s breath hitch. His body froze, every part of him fixated on the way you tasted. You lingered there, savoring the moment, tasting him again, licking the lower lip then the upper one, capturing them with your own. Drinking him. Marking him with your saliva. For now.
When your lips moved against his just a bit more boldly, you gasped at sudden motion. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Not enough. His hand moved to your chin, his thumb pressing there making you open your mouth. Into his own inferno. Here. His tongue slid inside, harshly brushed across the soft palate, then crawled under your tongue and intertwined with it.
It was no longer tentative or sweet—it was a storm. Mattheo kissed you like he was claiming you, as if raising the standards so no one will ever reach them. His lips pressed harder, demanding more from you, and his free arm threading through your hair with a possessive grip that sent a shiver down your spine. He angled your face, taking your body fully under control. You felt like his strong arms ghost everywhere. So to ground yourself a little more your hands gripping at his shirt. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and so undeniably him.
Under the heating fever and his hot kisses your head was melting down. Any touch and any thought blurs, sending you into the kaleidoscope of sensatoins. You are slightly drifting away.
Throught the burning desire to swallow the all of you, Mattheo managed to feel your weakness. "hey princess, wait..." You groan at the loss of his warm lips and pulled closer. He left a light kiss to the corner of your lips. "I will give you more than enough when you recover, beautiful."
"I will take it all" you confidently promised him, making him chuckle. Your head was getting heavier and you had to put it back on his shoulder.
"Your wish is my command" his whisper almost audible, but you smiled.
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mindless-existence1 · 3 months ago
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Summery: Bakugo x Support Group Reader. Basically you leave some hickeys on Bakugo, your secret boyfriend, and tease him about it.
Also I made this while thinking of reader having a teleportstion quirk or smth that makes it easy to sneak into Bakugos dorm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bright light shown through the large balcony doors, illuminating the small dorm. Your eyes fluttered open and in your sleepy state you see your boyfriend rummaging around in his closet.
When he emerged a black shirt was in hand, which you recognized as his classic skull tee he sported regularly. As he changed you propped yourself onto your elbow, "Goodmorning my handsome and amazing boyfriend." You cheerfully greet the blond, though you cut yourself off with a long yawn.
Bakugo responds with a soft grunt as he throws his dirty pajama pants and shit in a laundry bin.
When you fully got a look at the teen across the room you notice the red and light purple spots coating his neck. You chuckle to yourself replaying last night activities in your mind. When Bakugo looks your way he has a puzzled look on his face.
"What's so funny?" Though his voice lacked the same fire as normal the question was still pointed. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the laugh bubbling in your throat.
It fails when you seem him scratch at the back of his neck obliviously. "You should see yourself." You let out in between fits of laughter.
Bakugo rolls his eyes but walks over to his full length mirror, curtesy of you, and looks at the reflection. You know the exact moment he realizes the marks on his neck won't be easy to cover up.
"What the hell?" The blond shouts, you see him pull at the neck of his shirt to see the full extent if the hickeys. "Whatever do you mean Kats?" You innocently ask.
Bakugo glares at you before going to his closet trying to find a jacket or sweatshirt to wear in hopes to cover up. "I swear to God I hate you." You just laugh at his remark, "You didn't hate me last night."
You don't need to see his face to know he gets flustered, him throwing a crumpled shirt at you confirms it. "Don't you have class to get ready for?" He asks after a moment, his voice rough.
"Nope! Unlike the Hero Course, Support Course doesn't have early morning training." You sigh happily and cuddle up in the blanket. From your spot on the bed you hear Bakugo mumble a "Shit."
"What?" You ask, looking over at him as he runs a hand through his blond spikey hair. He just shakes his head. "Can't find a clean sweatshirt to cover up with." You roll your eyes playfully at his words.
"Don't worry about babe, people were going to find out eventually." The look of disgust that crosses you boyfriends face make soup chuckle. "I'm not having those extras in my class harass me all day about this."
You shrug your shoulders, "I'm sorry babe but I don't know what to tell you." It takes a lot out of your to bite back the smile tugging at your lips while you look at the defeated blond.
"Kats everyone in your class is scared of you, just threaten to explode them or something if they mention it." Your boyfriend thinks for a moment, considering your words before surging his shoulders.
"I guess your right." You giggle, beckoning Bakugo over to you. Whe he makes his way back to the bed you gently grab his face and give him a kiss. "I'm always right. That's why I'm in the smart people class."
Bakugo elts out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. "Your lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out a long time ago." You put a hand to your chest in mock suprise. "Kats that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
He rolls his eyes and walks away from the bed where you lay. "Don't push it."
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rothpie · 2 months ago
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❝FIDELITY❞ |part14
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MASTERLIST -`✼®- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank
Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.
Warnings: none (I guess)
previous - next
Witnessing Something You’ve Never Experienced 
There are moments in life—like when someone’s laughter makes you laugh, when you share their joy, or when you cry together—that are impossible to put into words. Watching someone else’s happiness is priceless. Maybe that’s one of the best things about being human: feeling their happiness as if it were your own. 
These were the simplest, purest emotions. And yet, when you saw Cleo and Pope smiling at each other, it was hard to keep your own happiness in check. It almost felt like it wasn’t their story, but yours. Like their vows added something to your life, too. 
You’d never been married. In fact, you’d never even come close to it. But as you listened to Cleo and Pope exchange vows, for a moment, you forgot about that emptiness inside you. Standing barefoot on the moonlit beach, watching them hold hands, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be. 
A gentle breeze mingled with the sound of waves breaking on the shore, creating a serene melody in the background. Standing on the sand, you realized how special this moment was. Everyone around you was smiling, even JJ. 
He stood a little apart from the crowd, lazily swirling a beer bottle in his hand as he watched the ceremony. His trademark smirk was there, but something about him seemed softer. As if he was sharing in the happiness in his own way. 
“You ready to head back?” JJ’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He had come up beside you, gesturing toward the lights at the edge of the beach with his beer bottle. 
You weren’t in the best shape, to be honest. 
You’d only known Cleo and Pope for four years—a long time, but not forever. You met them through JJ, yet your bond with them felt deeper than just friendship. Cleo, especially, felt like a sister to you. You loved them both and wanted to share in their happiness. 
It had been years since you’d felt like this. Your attachment to alcohol had ended alongside everything with Liliana, or so you thought. But now, Liliana was weaned, and you’d found a rare moment to be on your own. 
Cleo’s wedding wasn’t a grand affair; it was intimate, with close friends, family, and a few others. Your parents had even come. While they wished the same happiness for you, they also took Liliana with them when the reception started. It was their way of giving you a rare night of freedom. 
It wasn’t lost on you that they were doing this for you. Liliana was your baby, but in their eyes, you were still theirs. It was one of the rare times you could just be. A night to be young again. 
And JJ—well, you could tell your parents were secretly grateful for him too. They’d told him as much when they thought you weren’t listening. Your dad had even helped him out with work, quietly making sure JJ stayed on track. 
You were thankful for this time. For a little while, it felt like the old days. Not reckless or wild, just... young. 
And maybe you’d gone a little overboard. You’d been drinking and dancing all night. You weren’t sure how much, but it was enough to notice some concerned glances from people here and there. 
Still, it wasn’t just the alcohol. There was tension in you that you hadn’t let out. You hadn’t told JJ that you’d seen Rafe earlier. You just wanted to forget. But seeing him—especially when you were with your daughter—was a heartbreak all its own. 
After a moment of hesitation, you nodded. You didn’t feel sharp enough to respond with words, yet somehow, you felt like a genius. “I miss my house,” you mumbled, kicking at the sand. 
JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “Which house?” 
He grabbed your wrist gently, steadying you as you stumbled a bit. His touch moved to your hand, and you couldn’t help but follow his movements, your gaze dropping to the sand. 
“All of them,” you replied, your voice a little dreamy. Your answer made JJ laugh harder, the sound blending into the soft music playing in the background. His laughter—it suited everything, like it was a perfect fit for the moment, maybe even better than the music itself. 
“All of them? How many houses you got, sweetheart?” he teased, keeping a steady eye on you as if ready to catch you if you fell. 
“Two.” You held up two fingers to show him, wobbling slightly. JJ’s hand darted out to catch you by the arm while his other hand held yours firmly. 
“Yep, that’s our sign to head out,” he said with a smirk. His hand slipped to your waist as he pulled you closer, keeping you upright. Your bodies brushed against each other, and in your tipsy state, you didn’t have the energy to fight the thoughts that came next. 
You couldn’t help but look at him. JJ was one of those people you just had to look at. Admire. Worship, even. Had he really been right in front of you this whole time? What a snack. 
“So, one house is in Asheville,” he said, steering you toward your table to grab your bag. “Where’s the other one?” 
“You and Liliana.” 
JJ’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, he froze, trying to process what you’d just said. 
Then his gaze shifted, and he waved at Sarah and Pope, who were chatting nearby. He clearly chose to distract himself. It was just drunken rambling, right? No need to read into it. 
He knew better than to press the issue. You were drunk. That was all there was to it.
And while you were utterly drunk, he was completely sober. He’d only had one beer, because if you were falling apart like this, someone had to stay grounded to take care of you. The trip home had to be safe. That was his job, and he’d always make sure of it. 
You left the beach together, walking slowly. As the sand turned into a gravel path, the wind picked up, biting at your cheeks. JJ shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. Almost entirely leaning on him, you looked up with glassy eyes. “The stars look so beautiful, don’t they?” you asked, your voice carrying an unusual softness.
The house you’d rented wasn’t far. You had intentionally chosen a place close to the beach, for Liliana. When you arrived, JJ opened the door, turning to flash you a small smile. “Come on, let’s get inside. The wind’s going to make you sick,” he teased with a playful tone.
As you stepped inside, the happy scenes from the wedding were still vivid in your mind. Something felt different about tonight, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
JJ couldn’t believe you had made it all the way home. He was sure you’d pass out halfway through, but here you were, still standing—well, barely. He held you steady, watching as you stared at the house like you were seeing it for the first time. You smiled faintly as you spoke. 
“I can’t believe how much you drank. I mean—I didn’t even know you could drink that much.” 
He raised an eyebrow as you pursed your lips, clearly preparing a rebuttal. Despite your foggy brain, you still managed to respond. “I only had two shots,” you said confidently, holding up your fingers to emphasize your point. The attempt, however, was far from accurate.
JJ reached out to steady your hand, trying to refocus you. “Two shots and, what, a whole bottle of vodka?” he replied with a smirk. 
You threw your head back, laughing loudly. JJ’s lips quirked into a grin as he listened to your laughter, his hand brushing against your back in a comforting way. He had watched you all night—dancing with him, going wild with Cleo, chatting with Sarah—and at every moment, a drink had been in your hand, always nearing empty. 
“No!” you exclaimed, poking his chest with your finger as if trying to push him away. JJ didn’t budge an inch. Instead, when you stumbled back, he placed both hands on your waist to steady you.
“Alright, come here,” JJ said gently, his tone calm yet firm. He figured you needed to sit down before you hurt yourself. “Let’s get your shoes off before you end up face-first on the floor,” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice. He guided you back to lean against the wall. 
He crouched down to untie your shoes quickly, his movements brisk but careful. It was obvious he was afraid you’d trip and hurt yourself. When he finished, he set your shoes by the door and stood up. His gaze immediately met yours. You had been watching him the entire time, tracking his every move. 
You threw your arms around his shoulders and looked at him with a drunk, adoring smile. “Your eyes are blue,” you said in awe, studying his face as if it were the first time. 
JJ raised his eyebrows, his lips parting slightly. He wanted to pull back and figure out if you were serious, but then he remembered how drunk you were. His lips twitched into an amused grin. “Wow. Five years of living together, and you’re just now noticing?” he teased.
You had no idea what you were doing. You felt like a fool, detached from any sense of self-control. Your thoughts were jumbled, and logic had left the building. You leaned in closer, your heavy-lidded eyes fixated on his face. “Your dimples
 they’re really cute,” you whispered.
JJ took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. His heart raced, which annoyed him more than anything. He tried to pull away from your embrace, turning his head as he gently pried your arms off his neck. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk,” he muttered, letting your hands drop but still holding onto your wrists to keep you steady.
Suddenly, your breath hitched, and JJ’s attention snapped back to you. His expression shifted as he watched your face, now filled with a mix of worry and sadness. “I didn’t kiss Liliana,” you said in a mournful tone. “Before bed—I didn’t give her her goodnight kiss. I have to do it.”
JJ froze for a moment, trying to process your words. Liliana had been gone for hours, staying with her grandparents. She wasn’t even in the house, and there was no way you’d remember that right now. “Hey, hey. Liliana’s asleep, okay? You can’t kiss her now. You’ll wake her up,” he said soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. He didn’t dare remind you she wasn’t there; that would only lead to a meltdown.
You rested your head on his shoulder, your voice soft and sad. “But I needed to kiss her
”
JJ smiled faintly, brushing his hand over your hair. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can kiss her in the morning. Let her sleep now.”
Lifting your head, you looked at him intently, your gaze almost too focused for how drunk you were. JJ frowned slightly, sensing the shift in your demeanor. There was something behind your eyes—something determined. It made his chest tighten with unease, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 
“You’re awake,” you said suddenly, as if realizing a profound truth. 
JJ raised an eyebrow, looking at you in utter confusion. He took a step back. "Huh?"
Despite his retreat, you stepped closer. JJ swallowed hard as you approached, suddenly feeling trapped—vulnerable, even. Thoughts he had no business entertaining were creeping into his head. After all, it was you. You. His friend. His roommate. Yet, he could tell by your innocent tone that you meant nothing by it, and maybe that’s what he hated the most—because those innocent words were pulling his mind into places it didn’t belong. 
“You’re awake, so I can kiss you,” you said, your voice far too nonchalant for the chaos it stirred in him.
JJ quickly stepped back, holding up a hand to stop you, his face turning away as if looking at you directly might break his resolve. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said, his tone soft but firm. You were drunk, and there was no way you meant what you were saying. If you were sober, those words wouldn’t have left your lips. No matter what you said, he was getting you to bed and leaving you there to sleep it off.
“Why? If I can’t kiss Lily, can’t I kiss you? You’re awake! Besides—this is just a goodnight kiss,” you insisted with a faint smile, your tone bordering on teasing. 
Those words sparked something deep within JJ, something unfamiliar and unsettling. You two had never crossed this kind of line before. He’d never seen you look at him like that. And for the first time in years, you were drunk. He knew you hadn’t touched alcohol since Liliana. He also knew how much of your life had been shaped around her absence. Tonight, though, was different—you were drunk, and it was obvious your body wasn’t handling it well.
Even though he knew your words were soaked in alcohol, JJ couldn’t stop the heat creeping up his neck. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how it made him feel. 
JJ exhaled and shook his head, a defeated sort of gesture. He knew you meant nothing by it. There was no way this was anything more than innocent—it had to be. Besides, you were drunk. “Alright, fine. You can kiss me on the cheek,” he said, hoping to diffuse the moment, to get you to let this go. You were speaking without thinking, but his brain was taking your words to places he wished it wouldn’t.
JJ turned his head slightly, offering his cheek as he braced himself, standing as still as a statue. It wasn’t as if this was the first time you’d kissed each other on the cheek. It was a friendly gesture, a sign of affection. You were close—roommates raising a kid together. You spent almost every waking moment together. It was impossible not to care deeply for each other—as friends, of course.
But this? This felt different. Something about the situation was wrong. Whether it was the alcohol he’d had earlier, his own overthinking, or something entirely to do with you, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that, for the first time since you’d moved in, his mind was wandering into territory it had no business exploring. It was like he was just now realizing—or maybe finally acknowledging—that something had shifted between you two.
JJ couldn’t shake the unease in your presence tonight. He was used to being around you, practically glued to your side at all times. But this? Drunk you? That was a new one. Well, aside from those wild parties in your younger days, though even then, he’d usually seen you from a distance—usually surrounded by people. Or
 with that fuck-face.
And now here you were, just the two of you, and it felt like uncharted waters. JJ had been drunk around you before, sure, but he could hold his liquor. He didn’t drink often, but when he did, it wasn’t new territory for him.
JJ glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you took another unsteady step closer. His hands were still on you, steadying you, keeping you upright. He felt his tension rise with every passing second, his stomach twisting in knots. All he wanted was to let you kiss his cheek, put you to bed, and be done with this excruciating moment.
Then he felt it—your fingers slipping from his grip, brushing against the stubble on his freshly-shaven cheek. The light, almost hesitant touch sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t even turn his head fully to face you; he just stood there, keeping his gaze flitting between you and the floor. Your touch was nearly enough to make him close his eyes and lean into it, but the reminder of your drunken state snapped him back to reality.
As you swayed closer, your weight pressed into him. JJ quickly steadied you, hearing the soft giggle escape your lips. “Oops,” you muttered, your laughter muffled against his chest. 
He hated this—hated everything about it. Hated the situation, his thoughts, and most of all, how he was feeling. For the love of God, you were drunk, and the thoughts running through his mind were nothing short of sinful. How had he sunk so low as to let his brain spiral like this over a drunk woman—his best friend?
When your lips finally pressed against his cheek, JJ exhaled shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. You’d kissed him on the cheek plenty of times before, but this? This felt different. This kiss lingered too long, carrying a weight he couldn’t explain—a spark that was entirely new and unsettling.
When your lips didn’t move away, JJ gently pulled back, clearing his throat as he steadied you by the waist. As he turned his head back toward you, his eyes briefly—and accidentally—flicked to your lips. He quickly dragged his gaze back up to your eyes, cursing himself internally. He shouldn’t have looked. 
Clearing his throat again, JJ felt his face flush with heat. His prayers for composure were no match for the image of your lips—now cherry red, like they’d been painted that way. It wasn’t the lipstick you’d put on earlier. That had smudged and faded hours ago. Had your lips always been this red? Or was this something he was only now noticing? 
The moment he realized his eyes had drifted back to your lips, it felt like death itself. He needed to stop this. It was weird—no, terrifying. You were drunk, and he was completely sober. 
JJ took a deep breath and looked at your face. It was like you were staring straight into his soul, as though trying to pull everything he was out of him with just your gaze. "Okay," he muttered, trying to compose himself. He leaned on the thought that you'd forget this by morning, that you wouldn't remember any of it. If you were sober, he wouldn't dare let his eyes linger on your lips this long. "Well, since we’ve got the goodnight kiss out of the way—" 
JJ stopped mid-sentence when he felt your hand on the collar of his shirt. The proximity was already absurd—he’d only been holding onto you to keep you from falling—but this? This was nowhere near what he’d expected. Your grip tightened, and before he knew it, you pulled him closer. His eyes widened, and in the next instant, he found himself on your lips. 
His mind blanked. He didn’t even have the sense to close his eyes, as if keeping them open might confirm the absurdity of this moment. It couldn’t be real—it shouldn’t be real. 
The shock rendered JJ motionless. This wasn’t a passionate kiss. You weren’t moving; you just held your lips against his. Yet JJ was sure he was about to have a heart attack. 
Just the touch of your lips sent his heart into a frenzy. He was either dying or dreaming, and neither seemed plausible. 
But it didn’t take long for reality to sink in. He pulled away quickly, stumbling back. His hand darted out to steady you, but he didn’t dare come any closer. He had no idea what to make of what had just happened—or how he was supposed to feel about it. 
God, you were drunk. So drunk. 
“Stop,” he said firmly, though his voice shook slightly. He’d messed up. This wasn’t supposed to happen—none of it. And yet he swore he could still feel your lips on his. He regretted this. You wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, but he wouldn’t forget. “You’re going to regret this when I tell you in the morning.” 
He wouldn’t tell you. He couldn’t. Losing your friendship wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. More than that, he couldn’t bear the thought of being cut out of your life—or Liliana’s. No, he couldn’t lose the family he’d found. Not over one night. 
The words had only been meant to stop you, to get you to back off and let the moment end. He needed you to listen. Then he could put you to bed and get through the night without ever feeling your lips again, without remembering how soft they were or the feeling of having you this close. 
Shit. 
“I won’t,” you said stubbornly. 
JJ squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand over his temple as if trying to think straight. You had no idea what you were doing. You were drunk. You’d regret kissing him. And if he ever saw that regret on your face, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. 
Even though you were the one who kissed him, he still felt responsible for this. He shouldn’t have let you get this close. He should’ve gotten you to bed and let you sleep it off. 
JJ took a steadying breath, searching your gaze for something—anything—that might reassure him. Maybe a glimmer of awareness, a sign you understood what was happening. But you were too far gone. You wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. And even if you could think straight, the kiss was wrong. And you saying you wouldn’t regret it? That was wrong too. “You will,” he said softly but firmly, his voice unwavering. He wrapped an arm around yours and started guiding you to your room. He just wanted to erase this moment from his memory. 
Not because he didn’t like it—he couldn’t let himself think about that. Whether or not he liked it didn’t matter. You were drunk, and you’d crossed a line. Worse, he’d let you. If you were sober, you wouldn’t have kissed him or gotten this close. And that hurt more than anything else. 
You went quiet as you leaned against his arm. The silence persisted as he helped you to the edge of the bed. Gently, JJ eased you down to sit. You stared at the floor, saying nothing. JJ hated the silence. This shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, low and strained. “This is wrong... We’re friends.” 
JJ knelt in front of you, meeting your eyes. He knew that. You knew that. But the weight of your actions was already heavy on him. You’d kissed him, and he was already regretting it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how you’d feel when he told you in the morning. Would it change things between you? He wasn’t ready to lose you—or Liliana. He wanted a lifetime of memories with both of you, of raising her together and laughing through it all. He couldn’t lose that. “Yeah, we’re friends,” you murmured softly. 
The silence stretched again, and then, out of nowhere, your shoulders began to shake. You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling, your quiet sobs breaking the stillness. JJ’s eyes widened in shock. Seeing you cry tore at something inside him. He didn’t even know why you were crying. Maybe a piece of your clarity had returned. He didn’t want that—not now. 
Hesitating for only a moment, JJ pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. 
You didn’t answer. JJ tilted his head, resting his forehead against yours. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin as you shifted. When your nose brushed against his, JJ inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut. His hands slid down your back, settling at your waist. You still didn’t speak, but your movements spoke volumes. JJ exhaled shakily, like he’d just lost a battle with himself. “You need to stop
” he whispered. 
Suddenly, you lifted your head, and the space between you seemed to vanish. JJ’s breath hitched. He wanted this to stop—he needed it to. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself if it didn’t. He’d never thought of you this way, never imagined having your lips on his. But now that it had happened, everything felt
 right. 
Except it wasn’t. 
You were drunk, and this was so, so wrong. 
But when your lips touched his again, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 
When JJ felt your noses brush again, he let out a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes and meet yours. He wasn’t even sure who had started it this time. But when your lips met again, JJ felt... found. Like he’d discovered something he hadn’t known he was searching for. In that moment, he pushed everything else aside—all the rules, all the lines he wasn’t supposed to cross—and tightened his arms around your waist. Instead of pulling back, he gave in, even if just for a moment.
As your lips moved together in perfect rhythm, JJ could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. If he’d known it would feel this right, he wouldn’t have waited until now to kiss you. Hell, he’d have done it ages ago. When your hands gripped his collar and tugged him closer, JJ didn’t resist. Taking advantage of the way you shifted back on the bed, he let you guide him, following your lead as his hand instinctively slid to your neck.
The kiss broke momentarily as you both gasped for air, but before either of you could even think, your lips found each other again. JJ forgot everything—every rule, every fear, every reason this wasn’t supposed to happen. The only thing that mattered was you. Just you. 
When your fingers tangled in his hair, JJ realized he was completely at your mercy. You were insatiable, like you couldn’t get enough of him. And when your kisses turned more fervent, more desperate, he understood the shift. This wasn’t a sweet, affectionate kiss anymore. This was raw, unrestrained desire. When a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips, JJ froze.
Self-loathing hit him like a freight train. He couldn’t believe he’d let it happen again. With a jolt of awareness, he pulled back abruptly, putting distance between the two of you. As he took in the scene—the two of you on the bed, him hovering over you—he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let himself take advantage of you like this. 
“You’re drunk,” JJ said, his voice unsteady, his breath uneven. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” His hands trembled as he held himself back. Deep down, he wished you weren’t drunk. He wished this could be real.
Your gaze met his, and tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice cracking. But JJ knew he was the one who should be apologizing. Tomorrow morning—if he ever found the courage to bring this up—it would be on him. He was the one who was sober. He was the one who should’ve known better. He shouldn’t have let you pull him in, shouldn’t have let himself fall for it.
JJ took a deep breath and carefully helped you lie back on the bed. He brushed your hair back gently, his chest heavy with regret. Not regret for kissing you, but for doing it when you were drunk. For crossing a line when you wouldn’t even remember it. “Get some sleep, okay?” he said softly, trying to push the guilt from his tone.
As he started to pull away and leave the room, you caught his hand. “Don’t go,” you whispered.
JJ swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He shook his head slowly, refusing to look at you. “I can’t,” he said quietly. Staying would only make it worse—make him hate himself even more. But then he looked at you, and his resolve crumbled. He cursed himself silently. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was.
“Please,” you said, your voice barely audible. JJ’s eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching. The second he walked out of that room, he knew he’d be sick. He couldn’t believe he’d let things go this far, couldn’t believe he’d put you in this position. You were his friend, and you wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a single moment.
God, he wished you were sober. If you woke up and remembered everything—if you looked at him with disgust—he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He couldn’t.
“Fine,” he said, defeated. He was terrified—terrified of you waking up and hating him. “Close your eyes,” he murmured without thinking. He couldn’t take the way you were looking at him. That look only made the guilt gnaw at him even more.
You did as he asked, your eyes fluttering shut. JJ let out a long, heavy sigh and sat down beside you. He leaned his head back, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself under his breath, “Why do you make me hate myself like this...”
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It was close to 3 a.m., and you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You’d been awake for hours, but the dull ache in your head and the strange fog clouding your mind refused to lift. Some parts of last night were blurry—there were flashes of laughter, dancing, the wedding
 but the details were frustratingly out of reach. 
You sat curled up on the corner of the couch, sipping your coffee slowly, the warmth doing little to ease your unease. Across the room, JJ was in the kitchen, fiddling with the kettle as if it was the most intricate puzzle in the world. Normally, you were used to his easygoing, morning-person energy, but this wasn’t it. His movements were precise, almost tense, and his face carried a weird stiffness. You couldn’t make sense of it. 
“My head hurts,” you finally said, breaking the suffocating silence. You were tired of his strange behavior. 
JJ glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. With a faint, almost forced smile, he said, “Not surprised.” But his tone betrayed something deeper, something unsaid that hung in the air. 
“Not surprised?” you asked, frowning. “You’re acting weird, JJ.” 
He shrugged, putting the kettle back down and leaning against the counter. His fingers raked through his hair, a telltale sign that something was bothering him. Still, he avoided your eyes. “I’m just
 tired. You know, long night and all.” 
But you knew it wasn’t just exhaustion. You could feel it. “Did something happen?” you asked, studying his face carefully, hoping to find a clue. 
“No,” he said too quickly, his voice sharp before softening a beat later. “No, really. Just
 the usual.” 
His vague response only unsettled you further, but you decided not to press him. Not right now. Your headache and the foggy haze in your mind were draining enough without getting into a confrontation. 
When you glanced at the clock and noticed how late it had gotten, you suddenly straightened. “I need to pick up Liliana,” you said abruptly. 
JJ hesitated, his head turning to look at you like he was searching for something in your expression. “Alright,” he said cautiously. “Are you good to drive?” 
“Yeah,” you replied, grabbing your bag and standing up. “She’s probably missing us by now. I should get going.” 
JJ didn’t respond right away, just nodded slowly. His gaze stayed on you, heavy with something unspoken. It was like he wanted to stop you, to say something, but couldn’t find the words. 
As you headed to the door and bent down to put on your shoes, you could still feel his eyes on you. It was unnerving. Pausing for a moment, you glanced back at him. “We’ll talk later,” you said, keeping your tone light but purposeful. 
JJ gave another nod. “Yeah. We’ll talk.” But his words carried a weight far greater than they should have. 
Sliding into the driver’s seat of your car, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling in your gut. JJ’s behavior, your pounding headache, and the scattered, blurry memories from the night before were all swirling together, leaving an uneasy knot in your stomach. 
As you started the car and pulled onto the road, your phone lit up on the passenger seat. The screen showed Sarah’s name flashing as she called. Reaching over, you grabbed the phone, the knot in your stomach tightening as you answered. 
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Rafe hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a very long time. When he left Sarah’s house days ago, his steps were slow and heavy. Inside, a storm was raging. His thoughts collided, each crashing harder than the last. Talking to Sarah had been like a slap in the face with the truth he’d tried so hard to avoid. Hearing the things he didn’t want to hear—it had turned his whole world upside down. 
Once, he’d believed the life he was living was normal. Or maybe he’d just convinced himself of that. The life he’d shaped with his own choices, every step calculated to reach his goals... He had sacrificed everything for them. Absolutely everything.
And now, there was an emptiness inside him. He’d achieved the goals he’d fought for with relentless ambition and passion, but what had they given him in return? Monotony. A quiet restlessness. His soul was weighed down with a sense of suffocation he couldn’t even admit to himself. 
The moment he saw you and Liliana, everything changed. That’s when it all hit him. The scene played over and over in his mind—your icy gaze, Liliana’s delicate features that mirrored his own... her tiny hands, her green dress... Those images were burned into his memory. No matter what he did, he couldn’t erase them. 
He couldn’t sleep peacefully anymore. The moment he closed his eyes, he found himself lost in a vivid dream. He was holding you in his arms, playing games in the garden with Liliana. In those dreams, he clung to the illusion of a life he might have had, a life as a father with his own family. But every morning, he woke to the harsh truth. You weren’t his. Liliana wasn’t his. That life wasn’t his. 
Even throwing himself into work hadn’t helped. His mind wandered constantly, his thoughts overpowering him. There seemed to be no escape. For days, he’d stopped working entirely. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to just stop. To think. To try to figure out what was right. 
But he never expected to see you again. For four years, there had been nothing from you. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to find out where you or your family were. But you’d completely cut him off. You’d disappeared from his world. 
And now, after seeing you again, he didn’t know what to do. Should he fight to bring you back into his life, or was he meant to keep paying for the mistakes of his past? 
Every night, he dreamed. He dreamed of making you and Liliana part of his world, even though he knew it was impossible. In those dreams, Liliana’s laughter echoed, and you smiled at him. But that smile had been lost to him in the real world long ago. 
Calling Sarah had been a desperate act. He just needed to hear something—anything that could help. Again and again, he’d been met with Sarah’s irritated tone on the other end of the line. “What do you want now?” she’d asked, her exasperation unmistakable. 
And Rafe’s answer was always the same: “Hey... I just... I need a favor.” 
Rafe had realized his life was an illusion. The structure he thought he wanted was nothing but a trap. Seeing you had made that painfully clear. The dream of a life he might have had—holding you in his arms, hearing his daughter’s laughter, playing with her—had carved itself into his mind. But could those dreams ever become reality? Or had the wreckage of the past already swept everything away? 
These questions had no answers, but Rafe had made a decision. For the first time, he felt truly lost and defenseless. The only promise he made to himself was not to repeat his mistakes. Or at least, this time, he would try. 
To start, he knew he needed help. Calling Sarah, asking for her help—it meant swallowing his pride, but there was no other choice. “I just need to know where she is, Sarah,” he’d pleaded over the phone, his desperation seeping into every word. 
Sarah’s reply had been sharp and definitive. “Cut the crap, Rafe. I’m not giving you her address. And if you bother her one more time, I swear you’ll ruin what’s left of the relationship between us too.” 
The call ended. It hit him like a cold slap, but Rafe didn’t give up. He called again. Sent messages. Pushed Sarah to the edge of her patience. Eventually, he got a sliver of information. She mentioned a gas station stop. It was his only chance. Today.
He didn’t hesitate. He jumped into his car and sped off, his mind a whirlwind. His heart pounded, his hands gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline. 
When he arrived at the gas station, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes searched for you, and finally, there you were. Through the store window, he saw you picking something off the shelf. Your eyes narrowed slightly, as if lost in thought. 
For a moment, all he could do was watch. His feet felt rooted to the ground. But then he took a deep breath and forced himself forward, one heavy step at a time, toward the door. His heart raced faster with every step, his mind repeating, Is this the right thing? But he had no choice. He needed to see you. He needed to talk to you. 
When he opened the door, the bell chimed softly. You turned your head, your eyes meeting his. In that instant, the world seemed to stop. Your gaze held a mix of surprise and anger, but no matter what, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. 
Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets, hesitating as he walked toward you. His shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes unsure. He stopped a few steps away, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth, but no words came out. 
“Hey,” he said finally, his voice trembling just enough to betray him. 
He watched as your eyes scanned him, waiting for a response. The silence between you felt heavy. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone flat, devoid of any warmth. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. You didn’t take your eyes off him. 
Rafe had expected anger, maybe even an outburst. But the coldness in your voice—it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It hit him somewhere deep, leaving a dull ache in its wake. 
Rafe cleared his throat and briefly lowered his gaze to the floor. He’d imagined seeing you before he arrived but hadn’t thought about what he’d actually say. He tried to slip his hands into his pockets but stopped himself. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. "I—I just wanted to say hi." 
Your face fell into an impassive mask. The disdain for him was clear, and Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of it. "Alright. Hi." 
Rafe forced a smile as he looked at you, his expression nervous but determined. "Hi." The silence between you stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Desperate to shift the mood, Rafe mumbled, "You look really beautiful, by the way." 
Your face immediately hardened, and your eyes flashed with anger, as if you couldn’t believe what he had just said. The hiss that escaped your lips made Rafe regret his words instantly. He’d crossed the line. "Cut the nonsense, Rafe. Can you leave, please?" 
Rafe tensed but took a step back. His hands remained buried in his pockets, and he dropped his head slightly, cursing himself. He’d had one chance, and he’d ruined it—like he always did. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled before lowering his hand again. "I—I’m sorry. Really." 
He had barely turned to leave when your voice stopped him cold. 
"For what?" 
Rafe froze, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned back, confusion etched across his face. He understood the question, but was this really the time for this conversation? Of course, he expected you to hate him. He just hadn’t thought he’d get under your skin so quickly. "What?" 
"For what are you apologizing?" you repeated, your voice shaking but firm. Despite being in a public place, you struggled to keep it down, your anger barely restrained. "Did you honestly think you could just show up and casually talk to me? Like this is some kind of fucking joke?" 
Rafe raised his hands in a helpless gesture. Of course, you were right. What had he been thinking? "No. I—I just wanted to see if you were okay." 
Your brows knitted together as you crossed your arms, stepping closer to him. Rafe felt his entire body tense. "That’s none of your business. Why do you even care if I’m okay? You didn’t care five years ago." 
Rafe dropped his head. No matter what you said, you would always be right. He didn’t even have the words to defend himself. "I know." 
"You know?" Your voice climbed, sharp and incredulous, as you jabbed a finger toward him. "Fuck off, Rafe!" 
His breathing quickened, but he didn’t back away. This wasn’t how he imagined this would go, but—what did he expect? That you’d run into his arms and forgive everything he’d done? He had deluded himself into thinking you were still the person he used to know. "Look, I’m trying—" 
"I don’t want to hear it!" You raised a hand to cut him off, your voice louder than you intended. 
Rafe took a step closer. "I swear—" 
"I don’t want to hear it!" you yelled, your voice trembling but resolute. Rafe exhaled deeply, defeated. He hated this. Hated himself. He’d never be anything but a source of shame in your eyes. 
Rafe fell silent, guilt etched into every line of his face. He ran a hand through his hair, then took a step back. The quiet between you became unbearable. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as the words forced their way out. "It’s over. It’s been over for years. That’s it. You didn’t want—" 
"Don’t say it," Rafe interrupted, his voice low but thick with emotion. Every word was weighted with regret. 
"You said, ‘Get rid of it!’ You didn’t want it! That’s why it ended," you snapped, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. You didn’t back down, though. Rafe hated seeing you like this, hated knowing he was the reason for it. 
Rafe spread his hands helplessly, unsure of what to do. If you had told him back then, he would’ve accepted it with joy. But back then, he’d been a fool—a selfish, spineless coward desperate for his father’s approval. "I wasn’t thinking straight!" 
"Don’t give me that shit, Rafe." A bitter laugh escaped your lips, almost like you were exhaling your pain. You turned your gaze away, shaking your head. 
"I wasn’t in a good place," he whispered. But even he knew that no excuse could erase what he’d done. He wasn’t trying to absolve himself—he couldn’t. He was just
lost. 
Your laughter cut through him, sharp and bitter. "Right. Because your mistakes were all about your ‘bad mental state.’ Not because you’re just a shitty person! Enough, Rafe! This conversation is pointless. You’ve got a new life—without me. And we’ve got ours—without you. Let it go." 
You gave him one last look, lowering the finger you’d been pointing at him. Turning on your heel, you took a step to leave. 
Panic flared in Rafe’s chest. He couldn’t let it end like this. He’d made every mistake imaginable, but he couldn’t bear to add another one to the pile. He had to try. And if it didn’t work—well, at least he tried. 
"I want to meet her." 
You stopped in your tracks. The step you were about to take hung in the air before slowly retreating. You turned to him, eyes blazing with fury. 
"Liliana—" 
"Don’t you dare!" you shouted, pointing a trembling finger at him as you stormed toward him. Rafe stayed rooted in place, letting your fury wash over him. Of course, you were angry. You had every right to be. He just wished—wished he could turn back time and fix everything. "How dare you? Do you think it’s that simple?!" 
Rafe recoiled slightly, carefully choosing his words. He didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had—or dig himself into an even deeper hole. "I don’t mean to say the wrong thing." 
"I don’t care what you mean!" you snapped, your voice cutting through him like a knife. He watched as your expression shifted, protective and fierce. "You’re not meeting her!" 
"Don’t make me use force," Rafe said, his voice trembling but firm. He regretted it instantly. He shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t true. He’d never do that. Never. It was a fleeting moment—an impulsive lapse. He needed to think before speaking. Shit.
You flinched. Then, with a bitter laugh, you stepped closer and shoved him in the chest. Rafe let you. He shouldn’t have spoken like an idiot. He should’ve stayed calm. 
“What are you going to do? Sue me? Go ahead! Does your father even know you have a kid? Everything you’ve built—your stupid little empire—it’ll all crumble! Are you really going to do it? Because you won’t. You’re a coward, and you always have been.”
Rafe’s eyes hardened. “I will,” he said, his tone low but sharp with determination. He could. He had the power. Lawyers, connections—it was all on his side. But he couldn’t do it to you. 
You froze, staring at him in shock. 
Rafe stepped closer, taking a deep breath and holding out his hands as if trying to calm the storm. He didn’t want this to escalate, and he knew you didn’t want it either. "But I won’t do that. That’s not the point. I want to be in Liliana’s life. I’m going to tell my father.”
You watched his brows furrow as he exhaled. You were right—if he wanted to be a father, his family needed to know. And if you allowed it, they had a right to be informed. But even if you didn’t allow it, he’d still tell them. They wouldn’t take it well. He couldn’t predict what would happen, but he was done hiding. He was done being a coward. 
“What?” you asked, disbelief and frustration tightening your voice.
“I’m going to tell them. No matter what.” He took a deep breath, his voice softening. It was almost as if the confident man standing before everyone else had deflated before you. He could barely hold your gaze. He knew he didn’t deserve you.
“You’re lying,” you said, stepping back. Your voice carried not just doubt but a deep-rooted unwillingness to believe him. You didn’t want to.
“I swear I’m not.” Rafe lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a certainty that startled you. He would do it. In fact, he should have done it from the beginning, back when you told him you were pregnant. He was already too late.
You didn’t want to believe him. But the resolve in his eyes—he’d never looked more sincere. 
Rafe drew in a deep breath and spoke, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I want them to know. Everything. I—” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “I’m not making any more mistakes. I can’t afford to.”
Your brows knit together, your face hardening. You took a long, deliberate breath, though it was clear you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “Rafe, if this backfires on us—I don’t want it. I don’t want Liliana or me dragged into this mess.”
Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly. “It won’t. I promise.” He wouldn’t let it. Not ever. 
Your voice rose, insistent. “Rafe—”
He cut you off, stepping closer. “No. I won’t let that happen. I’m not that stupid, irresponsible kid you left behind anymore. That person...he’s gone. He’s gone for good.”
You let out a sharp breath, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t trust you. I just—can’t.”
The guilt etched deep into Rafe’s face made him drop his gaze. He nodded silently, as if accepting it. He hated himself for this. If one of his friends had done what he had, Rafe would’ve ripped them apart for their irresponsibility, for being such a terrible person. And he knew—that’s exactly what he was. A terrible person. 
“I know. It’s going to take everything to prove myself to you, and I get that. But
”
You squinted at him, your eyes sharp and wary. “Liliana thinks her dad’s in space,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with sarcastic calm.
Rafe blinked in surprise. His eyebrows shot up, lips parting as the faintest spark of humor lit his expression. His heart raced at the absurdity of it. “What?”
“Yes,” you said, shrugging. “I told her her dad’s an astronaut. He’s so far away he can’t come see her. If you step into her life, there’s no stepping out again. If you think for one second you can’t handle this, don’t even bother starting.”
Your voice was firm, your gaze sharp as steel. “And—I need time to think.”
Rafe nodded but never took his eyes off you. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave her again. No matter what, I won’t lose Liliana. I swear it.”
For a moment, silence hung between you. His seriousness, his unyielding resolve—it threw you off balance. You studied him with narrowed eyes, his words echoing in your mind. They made you uneasy. You hated feeling this way. 
“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you said at last, your voice tempered, the anger giving way to a measured determination.
Rafe exhaled deeply, relief softening his expression. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet.
You lifted your chin, your eyes cold as ever. “I’m not doing this for you.”
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This wasn’t a decision you could make on your own. It never had been, and it never could be.
When you returned home with Liliana, you had every intention of explaining everything to JJ. But as soon as you walked through the door, Liliana insisted on playing a game with JJ. Knowing you couldn’t discuss something this heavy in her presence, you simply went along with it. But JJ was no fool. He had picked up on something being off.
He’d been tense since you’d seen him that morning. While playing with Liliana, he would steal glances at you, checking on you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. 
You had no idea what was bothering him, but that nagging weight in your chest wouldn’t go away. You wanted to just tell him and be done with it. You couldn’t handle this alone—especially not when you and JJ shared a home and were raising a child together.
This wasn’t just your decision to make. No, it would affect JJ too. Practically speaking, the two of you were living together. Sure, JJ had his own place, but he barely used it. He’d take Liliana to school sometimes, decide what she’d eat, and even join you for her daycare events. 
Whatever you did for Liliana, JJ did as well. He cared for her as much as you did. At night, he’d kiss her goodnight just as you would. The choice ahead of you wouldn’t just impact your life or Liliana’s—it would alter JJ’s too.
You had to talk to him. You needed to unload this unease and find some relief.
When Liliana and JJ finished playing, your eyes immediately sought his. He was already looking at you. When you held his gaze for a second too long, JJ quickly turned back to Liliana. “Go on, give Mommy a kiss, then you can go upstairs and play with your dolls.” He planted a kiss on her hair and stood up.
Your attention shifted to Liliana as she waddled over to you. “Want some coffee?” JJ asked just as Liliana climbed onto the couch and wrapped her tiny arms around your neck.
“Yes, please,” you replied as her kisses landed on your cheeks. Smiling, you kissed her back. “Now I’m going to play with my dolls. I love you, Mommy,” she chirped, pulling away.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” you said, watching as she clambered down and carefully made her way upstairs. Your eyes lingered on her until she disappeared at the top of the stairs.
JJ headed to the kitchen, and you felt the weight of your discomfort pressing down on you. You knew he’d bring you coffee, just like always, but this time, sitting in silence and ignoring the elephant in the room wasn’t an option. You had to talk. The life you shared, the responsibilities you both carried—everything had been thrown off balance by Rafe’s unexpected move. And you needed to know where JJ stood on all of it.
When JJ returned with two cups of coffee, the exhaustion etched on his face hit you immediately. He set your cup in front of you and sank into the opposite chair, staring down at his coffee in silence. You recognized this—the way JJ withdrew when something weighed heavily on him. You’d seen it many times before.
“JJ,” you said, not bothering to hide the determination in your voice. He hesitated for a moment before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. The calm you were used to seeing in his eyes had been replaced by something much harder to read.
“Something happened,” you said, noticing the way his brows instantly furrowed.
“I know,” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something fragile. “I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Go ahead.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within you. “Rafe,” you said, hoping that single word would convey everything.
JJ’s expression hardened instantly. He straightened in his seat, his protective instincts kicking in. “What happened?” 
Your hands tightened around your coffee cup as you steadied yourself. “He
 he wants to be in Liliana’s life,” you said, the words feeling heavy as they left your mouth. “He told me as much. And it doesn’t feel like something I can decide on my own. It’s not just my decision to make.” You trailed off, watching JJ’s face shift—from shock to anger and finally to a resigned sort of disbelief.
JJ’s gaze dropped to the floor. His hands remained on the cup, his fingers whitening with the grip, but his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. You wanted so badly to read his thoughts, but he gave nothing away. He just sat there, silent. And that silence unnerved you more than any outburst ever could.
It was driving you mad. You waited for him to speak—to say yes, no, anything. When it came to Liliana, your emotions were always raw, and thinking clearly was difficult. You needed JJ to ground you. “Say something,” you whispered, your voice betraying the helplessness you felt.
“Are you meeting him?” JJ finally asked, his voice barely audible. The room felt eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest. You noticed his knuckles whitening further as he clutched his cup, his gaze still glued to the floor.
You shook your head quickly. “No. He came to me. I didn’t go to him. I didn’t call him—he found me. I would never willingly see him.” You paused, your voice trembling. “He
 he saw us a few days ago. And today, when I went to pick up Liliana, he was at the gas station.” You swallowed hard, bracing for JJ’s reaction. You wanted him to lash out—to yell, to be angry at someone—but he didn’t. He just sat there.
“You’re her mother,” he said at last, his words cutting like a blade. His tone wasn’t comforting—it was almost dismissive. You’d hoped for guidance, for support, but his response left you feeling more alone.
“JJ—” you began, but he cut you off sharply. His gaze never lifted as he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. His reactions were impossible to decipher.
“This is your choice.”
“You know it’s not that simple,” you countered, your heart pounding as you leaned forward, trying to draw his attention. You needed him to look at you, to see you, but he remained where he was, unmoving.
“Alright, suit yourself.” JJ’s voice was flat, his tone monoton once again. You could feel your frustration rising, but you knew it stemmed from sadness. 
“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. You couldn’t make this decision alone. 
“No, this is your choice.” JJ took a sip from his coffee. You had no idea how to change his mind. He kept throwing out these ridiculous comments and expected you to agree. And—it wasn’t like him at all. He spoke as if—as if he’d never been part of Liliana’s life. As if he hadn’t been there raising her alongside you.
“JJ—”
“Maybe you should move in together. You, Liliana, and Rafe. Picture-perfect family, what do you think?” His lips curled into a sarcastic smirk, and your jaw dropped. That bitter smile on his face made you feel utterly defeated. Did he even realize how ridiculous he sounded? These weren’t your words at all.
“Maybe you’ll rekindle your great love, hmm? Have another kid—” You couldn’t take it anymore. Did he not know you at all? Hadn’t he seen everything you’d been through? How could he talk like this?
Besides—you had come to him for advice. To figure out what to do as a team. It’s not like you had run to JJ impulsively to say yes to Rafe’s offer. You hadn’t even accepted it!
“You know I didn’t say that!” you yelled, unable to hold back your anger any longer. The realization that Liliana was upstairs hit you hard, and you closed your eyes tightly, taking a shaky breath to calm yourself before opening them again.
“I came to you for advice,” you said, the words catching in your throat. “To tell you this isn’t a decision I can make alone. And you’re—you’re saying all this to me?” The disappointment was written all over your face. You wanted to talk this through together, not deal with it on your own.
JJ gave a hollow chuckle as he stood up. When he slammed his coffee mug onto the table, you flinched. He ran his hands through his hair, pacing. “Maybe you’ll leave Asheville, move back to the Outer Banks. Start over with Rafe.” He turned his back on you, one hand resting on his hip while the other rubbed his temple. A frustrated sigh escaped him.
His words hit you like a slap. You stood abruptly. “You’re being cruel,” you said, your voice shaking. You cursed yourself as you felt your lips begin to tremble. You hated crying.
JJ’s face hardened. The anger seemed to drain from him, replaced by that same flat tone. “It’s not my place to decide. You’re her parent.”
“Me? Just me? So you weren’t her parent when you changed her diapers, stayed up with her when she cried at night, or showed up for her daycare events? Do you not see that Liliana views you as a father figure in her life?” Your voice cracked, as shattered as your emotions. You couldn’t stand how foolish he was being—or how he was acting. He wasn’t listening to you. “Does being a family only count if there’s blood involved?”
JJ paused for a moment, then sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Rafe’s her father. If he wants to be part of her life, you should let him.”
You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Stop talking like that!” you cried, desperation creeping into your tone.
JJ turned to you sharply, frustration etched into his features. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. “Didn’t you ask for my opinion? I just gave it to you. But know this—if he’s in her life, he’ll be in yours too. Whether you like it or not.”
That final sentence struck a nerve, and the storm inside you intensified. Before you could respond, JJ cut you off again. “You’ll fall for him again—” His smile was bitter, filled with pain.
You couldn’t take another second of this. “Do you think I forgot what he did to me?!” you shouted, interrupting him. “He left me when I was three months pregnant! Do you think I’m stupid enough to forgive that?!”
“I didn’t say that,” JJ muttered, his voice lower, but his words cut like a blade. “But you won’t be able to control your feelings.”
“You have no idea how I feel!” you snapped, anger and heartbreak tangled together in your voice. When you noticed a faint smirk tugging at JJ’s lips, your brows furrowed.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said, his tone strangely hollow. He nodded as if conceding your point, his tongue running over his teeth. “I really don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, shaken by how cold and distant he had become. His words were so cryptic, so frustratingly vague, it felt like he was mocking you.
“I don’t know. What do I mean?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something you didn’t. 
It felt like you were trapped in an endless loop. When JJ began gathering his things from the table, your heart clenched. Despite everything, you didn’t want him to leave. No matter what he said—you couldn’t bear for him to turn his back on you. This couldn’t be happening.
As your anger faded into pure worry, you watched him with rising panic. You took a step forward, but he had already packed up. No. This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t let Rafe ruin your life all over again. “Where—JJ, wait. Please.”
JJ headed for the door, and you quickly followed, grabbing his arm. When he turned to face you, your eyes brimmed with tears. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want this to end in anger and heartbreak. “Please—please, don’t go. Don’t.” 
“I need some air,” he said, his voice soft but firm. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, his expression softened. 
“I’ll stop talking, I swear—” you rushed out, desperate to keep him from leaving. You were ready to beg if it came to that. This wasn’t worth losing him over, not something so small. It didn’t have to escalate like this. 
“I’ll come back,” he said. His tone was steady, reassuring. But you didn’t want him to go, not even for a moment. Even if it meant sitting in silence together, you needed him to stay. You weren’t used to him walking away. 
“I really will stop—” you started again, your voice trembling. Your hands briefly reached for his arm before falling back to your sides, unsure of what to do. 
JJ looked away, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. His fingers raked through his blond strands, his face tense and brooding. His brows were furrowed, and the muscle in his jaw tightened slightly. When he finally turned back to you, his gaze was a mixture of emotions—no anger, but a deep, aching disappointment. 
“I don’t want you to stop talking,” he said, his voice lower than usual, but it carried a quiet intensity. “If I stay, we’ll just hurt each other more.” He hesitated, drawing in a long, controlled breath before stepping back further. “I just need some space to calm down. I’ll come back.” 
“I’m sorry—” you murmured, your hand instinctively reaching out to him again before stopping mid-air. You were scared to touch him, scared it might push him further away. 
“Don’t.” JJ stepped back another pace, lifting his hand slightly as if to hold you at bay. “I’m not mad at you.” His gaze met yours, and beneath the resolve in his eyes, you could see how fragile he felt, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 
“Yes, you are. You’re mad at me. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. 
JJ froze for a moment, exhaling deeply as he looked away. His hands fell to his sides, and he shook his head slowly, as if wrestling with something. “Why shouldn’t you have brought it up?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges. When his eyes met yours again, there was pain in them, not directed at you but at himself. “This has always been your choice. I only said what I did because I care about you. I’m not angry at you—how could I be? How could I ever be angry at you?” 
He paused, his gaze drifting somewhere distant. His fingers fidgeted unconsciously near the pocket of his jeans, and his lips pressed into a thin line before parting again. “I’m angry at myself,” he admitted quietly, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. 
His words stopped you in your tracks. Looking at his face, you realized there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Asking might shatter the fragile tension that still tethered you together. 
JJ stood motionless for a long moment, then turned and walked toward the door. He stopped just before opening it, resting his hand on the frame. His fingertips gripped the edge so tightly they turned white. Without looking back, he stepped out. The door closed with a soft but final thud, the sound echoing through the room, leaving the air heavier than before. 
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heartandbow · 4 months ago
Text
Neighbor in Distress
MILF!WANDA X FEM!READER | 18+
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Wanda was the perfect neighbor. She didn't make too much noise, she smiled and waved whenever she saw you, and when asked to borrow some milk or sugar, she always added a little more than asked. Always.
It felt weird to have a crush on her - after all, she was significantly older than you. But you could swear that some days, her eyes lingered on you, or the way your clothes hung to your body. The feeling was ecstatic, and you kept wearing shorter clothes whenever you were around her.
This short cat and mouse chase wasn't supposed to go more than this, but one day, a chance literally knocked on your front door.
-
"Hi!" You said, surprised.
Wanda was standing on the other side of the door, her hair disheveled.
"I'm so sorry! I was baking... and I-"
You ushered her in, vaguely hearing words like oven, smoke and vanilla.
"Sit here, I'll get you a towel," you said, looking at her ashened hands. When you were back with it, she looked noticeably calmer, though still a little shaken up.
"What happened? Should I call someone?" you asked in worry.
"No, no!" She let out a nervous laugh, as if her outburst seemed a little silly now. "I was baking and did something wrong with the oven! Smoke filled the room and I got scared enough to run here."
"Oh no, did you call the fire department?"
"There's no fire! I made sure to turn off the oven. I checked for flames too. I think I took the Christmas baking part too serious and too early."
You let out a sigh of relief. "Where are the kids?"
"At their aunt's, thank god. I'm glad they weren't here to see their mom's hysterics."
You chuckled. "I don't think they are hysterics. You just reacted like anyone would."
You placed a glass in front of her and poured her a drink. Her face reddened for reasons you missed at first. You then realized you weren't wearing a bra and that she might have seen a little too much while you were bending over to pour that drink.
You straightened up, slightly proud to have gotten her to blush.
"Oh I don't know, I do think the stress is getting to me," Wanda said, brushing hair off her face. "Agntha says I work too much."
"Well, if there's any way I could help," you said, sitting down opposite her. You tried to sound friendly and not as a pervert.
Did her eyes snake through your body in a blink, or was that just your imagination?
"You're a darling," she replied, waving it off. She put the empty cup down. "I've taken up too much of your time already-"
You bent down to pick up the glass, this time lingering a bit too much.
"I could help, you know," you said quietly. Wanda met her big brown eyes to yours and held a confused gaze.
You pushed the table away slightly, until you were towering over her.
"With my stress?" she asked, blinking. "Y/N, I'm not going to fuck you."
You tried to not let the disappointment show. "I was just joking."
"— you'll break if I fuck you." Her face split into the coldest smile, which was so unlike Wanda that it sent a chill down your spine.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a fact. You don't know me, love."
Half of you were stuck on love, and the other half was surprised. Wasn't she right? Did you know anything about her other than she was a mother of two? You didn't know where she was from, what she did, who her husband were, or if he was even alive.
Run, some part of your body said.
"Are you scared?" she asked, blinking innocently. It was as if that cold smile never existed at all. Then you did the boldest thing of your life.
You dipped your head down and kissed her lips. She, to your satisfaction, didn't let go. She pulled your body down to hers and deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours. She was full on making out, then stopped to hold your jaw with a little too much force.
"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered, a glint in her eyes. "Now I don't care if I break you. I—" she kissed your jaw "have to—" her tongue slithered to your neck "—have you."
You moaned, only to have the touch broken apart. Wanda stood up, pulling you to the nearby room. She navigated through your home like she's been there a thousand times before.
A part of you couldn't believe this was happening, but deep down, you knew this was inevitable. You needed her the same way she needed you.
Wanda closed the door behind her, and sat on the bed. She pulled her top down and her boobs jumped out.
Obediently, you sat next to her and bent down, grabbing one boob and sucking the other with your mouth. You felt yourself being wet just by her soft moans. Her breasts felt soft on your tongue, and you tried not to appear too eager.
Wanda whined when you bit her down too hard, and pushed you off her. She climbed on top of your lap, then pushed your shoulders down. You were now laying on the bed, and the woman of your dream was taking off your mini skirt.
"Won't you be my good girl?" she asked, almost cooing.
"Yes, mommy," you gasped when the air hit your legs. You took off your top to get completely naked.
Wanda spread your legs open. "Do you want to be touched, Y/N?"
"Yes."
"Beg."
"Please mommy."
"Not enough." She let you go, and climbed over you again and sat down on your face.
She still had her skirt on, but she pushed them out of place so that her panties were directly over your mouth. You flicked your tongue to her wet panties, rubbing it up and down till she started rocking herself on your face.
You moaned into her clothed pussy, and you were suffocated in the most arousing way. You wanted to feel the foldness completely, but Wanda had restraints. She got up after a few minutes, even though she looked reluctant to do it.
"My good girl," she whispered into your mouth, giving you an open mouthed kiss.
You melted to her touch and she used that moment of weakness to slither her hands down your body till she reached your pussy.
Your bare, wet, dripping pussy which took her hand so well even she looked impressed.
"Mhm, show me you want me," she said, plunging deeper. You whimpered when she added another finger.
"Mommy please," you cried, not knowing exactly what you were whining for.
"Shush." She pulled you up. Her breaths were staggered, and her chest was heaving. The sight of her chest going up and down made you get more horny.
"Sit up straight," she commanded, and you were all but ready to obey. She spread your legs open, and she pulled off her own panties. Her naked pussy made you let out a helpless sound.
"Wanna touch you," you whispered.
She didn't reply, just slid her legs into yours until your pussies were touching. You moaned as she started rubbing hers against yours. The friction made you hold onto her shoulders, and she was groping your boobs and leaning down to suck on them. Soon, you started moving against her, which made her go feral.
She started moaning - actually, properly moaning and you wanted that picture to be etched on your head forever. How the not-so-shy milf next door had her eyes rolled back as you were fucking her.
"Your pussy feels so good," she said, her movements slowing down. You felt her relaxing, with heavy breaths coming to a close. "Let me make you feel as good as you did me."
She pushed you down harshly, then went down on you before you could gasp. She spread your legs open, cheekily stroking your thigh and looked up to meet your eye.
"I'm going to taste your pussy," she said calmly. "And you will not cum until I tell you to."
You gulped.
"Yes, mommy."
You gripped the sheets next to you, the ones you were sure going to be ruined before the day was over.
THE END
home for the holidays event | commissions | kofi
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bbydoll18xx · 7 months ago
Text
I've Got a Wand and a Rabbit
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Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 1.6k
Themes: sex toys, masturbation, and sex mentioned
A/N: hii so I thought of this idea when I was lounging in my pool and I kinda love it. I have a few ideas for a second part if you guys are up for it
~
“That’ll be 49.95,” you say brightly, your customer service voice on full display, as you carefully wrap an eight inch glass dildo up and put it in a bag. Your customer, a tall, muscular man with shifty eyes and a baseball hat hanging low over his face, quickly swiped his card, avoiding eye contact with you, as you finished the transaction. 
“Have a great day!” You call as he rushes out of the store and into his large pickup truck. 
Ah. The joys of dealing with the closeted ones. It was certainly more appealing than the creepy straight dudes who offered to take you home and prove to you that the vibrators that adorned the entire back wall of the store were not as good as their own dicks. 
That was fucking bullshit.
You had prided yourself in being open with both your sexuality and the joys of sexual pleasure since you were old enough to know what it entailed. And you were not shy about sex or masturbation. It was a totally normal thing. 
You have often referred to yourself as The Fairy Godmother of Orgasms. Each of your friends had been given a vibrator sometime during college, with subtle instructions to learn how to make themselves cum. Because men just aren’t up for the job these days.
So when you picked up a job at the newest, trendiest sex store just outside of Storrs to help make some extra money for school, it seemed like all of the stars aligned. 
You shake your head, giggling at the hilarity of the man’s sheer discomfort and apply a layer of lip gloss to your full, pink lips. There were a few customers lingering in the store but it had been pretty quiet today, as it was the middle of the week. 
A few minutes later, the jinging of the bell on the door alerts you to a group of girls giggling loudly, faces blushing in a way that you had become quite accustomed to seeing in the store. 
College students were your favorite customers, as you loved seeing young women being open about having fun and safe sex lives, and you wave warmly at them.
“Hi there! Just let me know if you have any questions!” You chirp, sending a wink over to the tall blonde girl whose cheeks were the brightest shade of red in the group.
Her face darkens, spreading down the pale skin of her neck as the other girls shove her teasingly, and she almost falls into a rack of lingerie.
Muttering an apology, she fixes the rack, running her hand across her face, glancing back at you before running after her friends where they had assembled in the back of the store. 
Her bumbling behavior amuses you, and it was so unlike her.
You had recognized her from the second she had walked in. Paige Bueckers face was plastered all over UConn’s campus, and you were a victim of the tiktok edits bombarding your phone.
You were a willing victim at that.
Paige was not just a great basketball player. She was also incredibly kind and unusually humble. It also did not help that she was gorgeous, and you were not ashamed to admit that you had thought about those long, nimble fingers and her muscled thighs from time to time. 
Or maybe a little more than that. 
You are pulled out of your increasingly naughty thoughts by loud laughs, and you look over to where KK Arnold is holding up a huge purple dildo.
“Paige, I think this would be perfect for you!” She snorts, sending the other girls into a fit of howls.
You chuckle, putting a hand over your mouth as you observe Paige’s obvious embarrassment from behind the counter.
“God, KK, could you be any louder,” Paige mutters, eyes flickering to where you were pretending not to watch. “Shoulda just bought this shit online.”
“That’s no fun,” Aubrey says, gazing at the section of strap ons with an interested look on her face. 
The bickering continues for a few minutes, with Ice Brady and Aubrey occasionally making a few comments before you decide to go over to the group.
“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?” You ask. “I know the selection can be a bit
overstimulating.” You bite your lip as you finish your sentence, inwardly cringing at your provocative choice of words. 
Paige coughs, and KK erupts into another fit of laughter, and before the blonde could even form a word, KK says, “Home girl needs a nice vibrator. She is very single, and the ol’ right hand just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.”
“Dude, oh my god,” Paige groans, hands once more shielding her face. 
“I totally understand how that is,” you say sympathetically. “Let me show you our most popular vibrators.”
You reach for Paige’s hand, somewhat surprised as she allows you to take it, and you guide her to the back wall. 
“Now this one is a classic. They call it a rabbit because of the cute lil bunny ears, which is great for the clit. And it has a dildo attached, so it’s a two in one type of deal.”
You look up at Paige, trying to gauge her reaction, and she looks completely stunned. Blushing, you put down the brightly colored toy. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”
“No, not at all,” Paige mumbles, a far cry from her usual confidence. “This is all just new to me.”
You nod understandingly. 
“This one might be more your speed. It’s called a wand, and it’s perfect for beginners. Not much of a learning curve for this one,” you say, holding out the box for her to inspect. 
The wand was purple and small enough to throw in a discrete bag, and with a rechargeable battery and its waterproofness, it was a fan favorite. 
“Alright, I think I’ll try this one then,” Paige says, her voice a little more sanguine as the initial embarrassment of buying a sex toy wore off. 
Aubrey, KK, and Ice erupt into loud cheers and a round of applause, and Paige responds by giving them the middle finger.
“You guys are hilarious. You should come in more often,” you laugh.
“Maybe I will if you’re working,” Paige responds, looking you up and down. 
It was your turn to blush, her sudden boldness surprising you, and your heart rate jumps at the idea. 
Paige follows you over to the checkout counter, where you ring up the toy, adding your employee discount for good measure before bagging it up and handing it to her, your fingers brushing up against hers as you do so. The contact sends shivers through your body, and you immediately think of your own toys waiting for you in your bedside drawer. 
You were really going to fucking need them after this shift. 
“Have fun. If you ever have any questions, you know where to find me,” you tease, not wanting this to be the last you see of her.
“I will,” Paige responds, sending you a cheeky wave before leaving, her friends in tow.
“She will definitely be back, don’t worry!” KK exclaims, before Paige pulls her out of the store by the hood of her sweatshirt.
You certainly hoped so.
~
Life continued on the next few weeks as normal. You went to work. You went to class. And you spent even more time with your legs spread thinking about Paige. 
You didn’t necessarily mean for it to happen; it just did. If her face was not completely clouding your thoughts before she had stumbled into the store, it was now. Even your dreams were swirled with images of that long blonde hair and her mouth, her tongue peaking out seductively.
And because you were quite single, you had turned to the toys. 
You were walking through campus, eagerly heading back to your apartment after your lecture so you could enjoy yet another solo session, when you spot Paige, KK, and Jana walking up to you.
KK was leading the charge, enthusiastically waving to get your attention, whilst Paige was trailing behind, a shy smile on her face.
“Well look who it is!!” KK teases, introducing you to Jana, who had a knowing look on her face. She reaches a hand out to you. “I’ve heard lots about you,” she smirks in Paige’s direction, who rolls her eyes.
You wave at the blonde, eyes crinkling from the sun and the excitement of seeing her again. “Sooo,” you trail. “Any issues with it?” 
The question was vague, but all three girls seemed to know exactly what you were referring to, and Paige flushes yet again. She looks at the other two girls, shooting them harsh looks until they hesitantly walk away from the two of you, leaving you with the privacy you were dying to have.
Paige coughs. “Um, I haven’t really been able to figure it out, ya know?”
You try not to laugh. “What’s there to figure out? Just turn it on and go to town.” 
“I tried,” she nearly whines, clearly embarrassed.
“And?” You prod, confused as to what she was so obviously missing.
“I couldn’t, ya know, finish,” she mumbles, looking at you with a small pout.
You wanted to kiss the pout right off those lips. 
“Need some help then? I’m kind of a professional,” you suggest boldly, hoping she was feeling the electricity flowing between you. 
“God, yes,” she breathes. 
It was all over from there. 
~
If anyone was wondering, yes my friends do really call me the fairy godmother of orgasms. And yes I am very passionate about my love for vibrators LOL
I hope you enjoyed!! Do we want a part 2??
My inbox is always open
xoxo katy
Part 2
Part 3
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hgfictionwriter · 2 months ago
Text
Revelations
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's always been steady and loving - someone you cherish deeply and never doubted. The new ring on your finger was proof. So when she starts behaving distant and preoccupied, you don't know what could be wrong. Everything in your shared life is perfect. Right?
Warnings: Angst. Language.
A/N: Hello! This is the angsty, love-child from Jessie's UCLA days fic. It will be a bit of a rollercoaster, but I hope you all enjoy!
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"I can't believe you're going to be my wife," Jessie said, beaming ear to ear as she picked you up and spun you around. You laughed in her ear, head light and fuzzy with the elation of the moment.
"As if I'd ever say 'no'," you chuckled once she set you down. You grinned as she held up your hand to examine the sparkling ring that looked and fit perfectly on your finger - something she'd, of course, made sure of.
She shook her head in disbelief, a quiet smile lingering and pulling at her rosy cheeks.
"I just love you so much. I adore you and I can't wait for us to keep building our life together," she told you, eyes growing misty. You kissed her, harder than you'd intended, but every nerve in your body was firing in elation.
You looked at the woman before you. You couldn't have wanted more. You were so lucky to have her and her heart. You smiled.
"Same. I can't wait."
Your eyes fell to the empty spot next to you on the couch. Your chest panged as you pushed the memory away. The Jessie in that memory seemed so far away lately.
You released a silent huff and stood up, padding over and around the corner to the kitchen. You paused as you saw her leaned back against the counter. She wore a frown as she chewed at the corner of her thumb while she read something on her phone.
"Can I help you with anything?" You asked, making sure to keep your tone warm.
Her eyes shot up in surprise, before her frown hardened as she stepped away from the counter quickly tucking her phone away.
"What," she snapped as she turned on her heel and began working on fixing tea again. "I've got it," she went on softer, though not looking back over at you.
"It's been 15 minutes," you said a bit flatly, trying to cull your irritation. "So I just thought I'd see if I could help."
"No, it's fine," she assured you as she readied things and put them away in a bit of a disarray; very unlike her. She sighed, though you think she tried to stifle it, as she took long strides over to you with two mugs in hand. She handed one to you with a tight smile.
"Here," she said lightly. She leaned in and gave you a peck on the cheek, brushing past you to walk to the living room before you'd even registered it. You followed her silently. "Sorry for the wait," she said softly as she sat down, eyes on you as you took a seat next to her.
"It's fine," you said simply as you took a tentative sip. The beverage was lukewarm and offensively oversteeped. She really did forget about it. Still, you offered her a brief smile.
"Okay, let's go," she said putting on a new front of exaggerated brightness as she unpaused your show and settled in. She grasped your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze before shifting over closer to you. "You're too far away," she commented with a light laugh.
Normally, you'd laugh and swoon at such a thing from her. But right now, it felt hard to even smile for her. You didn't know what was going on.
The way she was in the kitchen, hiding away, transfixed on her phone, scattered, defensive; they were behaviours you never associated with her before, but had been increasingly the case the past month and a bit. Even when things were challenging - even horrible - with club or the national team, she hadn't been like this. Sure, she withdrew sometimes and could be quiet, but she didn't hide from you. Not like this.
You strangely had never worried about her cheating. She was wholesome and dedicated and sweet. She was your Jessie. Of course you trusted her. She loved you and you knew it. But now? You had a giant pit in your stomach. This ominous cloud lingering overhead that you couldn’t shake.
You'd noticed a few things cropping up initially, but you dismissed them. She'd never given you a reason to doubt her and for that you were grateful. Even if something was odd, there must've been a good reason.
The first time you really took notice was when you heard her getting out of bed extremely early one morning - early even for her - and though you just figured she was going to washroom or couldn't sleep, when you didn't hear her for some time you went to check on her. You came around the corner to see her out on the balcony talking quietly on the phone. You went back to bed and asked her about it when you got up later in case something had been wrong with her family or someone else.
Normally, she'd answer the question no problem, but she'd snapped at you instead and quickly excused herself to go on a run.
From there, you started to pick up on more things. Coming home late, disappearing for extended times, being secretive about her texting or calling sometimes. It was bizarre and so not like her.
Training. Games. The team. Those were always her excuses.
You wanted to believe her. You really did. You were going crazy flipping between wanting to corner her, question her, and get the truth, or dismiss everything because there must be a logical reason.
Jessie loved you. You'd been together for years, she'd proposed, you had all these plans for the future together and things had been going great. At least as far as you knew. It just didn't make sense.
You tried to focus on the show you two were watching, but you just felt unsettled. And by the way Jessie huffed intermittently, fidgeted and again chewed at nails and fingers, it seemed she felt similar. You asked if she was alright, if something was on her mind, but of course she dismissed any concern you had.
The show ended and you looked at the clock. It was about the time you and Jessie would both retire to bed, or at least Jessie. The heavy pit in your stomach didn't inspire you to do much else this evening.
"I think I'm going to go to bed. You coming?" You asked.
"Uh," she sat forward slightly on the couch and scratched the back of her head in contemplation. "I might stay up a bit. I'm not all that tired," she told you with a tight-lipped smile that didn't hide the bags under her eyes. You mustered up a smile in return though your stomach sank further.
"'Kay," you said simply as you stood up. "Try not to stay up too late. I know you haven't been sleeping well lately."
"I won't," she said with a hint of an edge in her tone. Her face scrunched up a moment later and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, um, I forgot to tell you - I'm going to be home late tomorrow."
Again?
"How late?" You asked as evenly as possible despite the irritation that immediately flooded your body.
"I don't know," she said with thinly veiled impatience at your inquiry.
It took every ounce of patience to speak calmly.
"Well, would you like me to try to change our reservation?"
A deep frown settled on her face as she stared up at you in question. Her expression fell a second later.
You let out the faintest, empty laugh. It was either that or you were going to start tearing up.
"You forgot?" You asked flatly. Your anniversary dinner.
You weren't that much for special occasions, but you always celebrated your anniversary and Jessie was often the one most on top of it; planning romantic, special things. Just not this time, evidently, and it felt like yet another nick in your skin.
She sighed inaudibly and offered you an apologetic look as she stood to face you.
"I'm so sorry," she said and it seemed genuine. "I-" she paused as she raised a hand to explain, but dropped it listlessly to her side with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you," she promised.
"It's fine, Jess," you said quietly. Neither of you spoke further, just standing across from one another with silence mounting.
You disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and readied for bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath to try to steady yourself. You wanted to be mad, or better yet, not care at all, but instead you just felt disappointed and hurt.
When you came back out she appeared and came up to you right away, following you to the bedroom.
"Let's go for a hike on Sunday and we can go to your favourite spot for lunch," she offered eagerly.
"Sure," you replied dully as you got under the covers. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to give you a kiss.
"You're the best," she said before rising and padding out of the room, closing the door behind her.
You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but the bundle of nerves and thoughts that careened through your mind wouldn't allow you. You felt restless and irritable, tossing and turning in the bed and doing your best to not check the time as you waited for her to come to bed.
You eventually sighed and gave in looking at your phone. It was after midnight.
You exhaled gruffly as you threw the covers off and approached the bedroom door. You could see the sliver of light from the other room coming through and you took a calming breath before you opened the door.
You immediately spotted Jessie at the kitchen table and her head snapped up from her laptop with an expression much the same as earlier this evening when she was supposed to be making tea. Her eyes fell back to her screen as she clicked a few times before sitting back in her chair and frowning at you once more.
"Hey, what's up?" She asked with a bit of a huff.
"What are you doing?" You asked, ignoring her question as you approached. You normally would've just sat across from her, but your skepticism was getting the better of you and you came around the other side to stand behind her. The hairs on the back of your neck rose as she curled inward a bit and gave you a scrutinizing look.
"What?" She asked curtly as she shot a look at you before looking back at her screen which only showed a table of player statistics. "I'm just prepping for our next game," she went on in the same manner as she closed the lid of her laptop rather firmly.
"You're just up late," you relented as you returned to the other side of the table and took a seat.
"Yeah," she said dismissively with a shrug.
You folded your arms on the table. "You're going to be tired in the morning."
"Yeah, well," she said in a tone as she brushed her hair back and slid down in her chair slightly, planting her feet.
You sighed tiredly and gave her an imploring look.
"What's going on Jess," you said beseechingly. "I know you keep saying it's stuff with the Thorns or the national team, but," you paused as you tried to gather your words, "I don't know. You're just not acting like yourself. You've been so hot and cold. And I feel like you're hiding things from me and I've never felt that way before."
She huffed and grew restless, eyes and hands scanning the table for clutter or distractions that weren’t there.
“I told you,” she said in exasperation and eyes determinedly downcast, “things are just stressful right now with the season and there’s a lot I need to navigate for it.” She sighed quietly before finally looking up at you. “It’ll be better soon,” she said, gaze falling once more as her tone fell too. “I just need some time.” 
You felt for her. You could see that whatever she was dealing with was weighing on her in a way you’d never seen. Even the scandal at the Olympics didn’t have her like this. Still, she wasn’t giving you a straight answer.
“Babe, I love you,” you said, pleading almost. “I just wish you’d tell me more. I’m supposed to be able to help you, support you, and if I don’t know what you’re going through I can’t do that very well.”
Her mouth was set in a line as she sat hunched over, hands now tucked between her knees as she stared hard at the table surface. She took a sharp breath and looked up at you, expression even.
“I know you want to help, but there’s nothing you can do.” She looked like she was going to say more, but she stopped and you saw a flash of emotion cross her face before she swallowed it. “I know you deserve better,” she said with the slightest waver in her voice.
Your posture grew rigid and you blinked at her declaration.
“I,” you started, unsure of what to think. You found yourself giving her a tentative, nervous smile. “What do you mean by that?” You asked lightly, your voice thin.
She exhaled gruffly as she buried her face in her hands and rubbed harshly at her features. “I don’t know,” she mumbled as she set her elbows heavily on the table and slowly shook her head. A beat passed before she dropped her hands and she gave a single shake of her head. “I think we should just go to sleep,” she said quietly.
“Jess-”
“I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore,” she said as she rose abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor as she did so. She gave you an imploring look. “Can we just go to sleep? We can talk about this another time.” She made sure to hold your gaze. “I promise.”
You felt helpless. At her mercy - whether she chose to let you in or not.
“Is there someone else?” You blurted out. She physically recoiled at the question.
“What?! Oh my God. Y/N. No, there is no one else,” she said adamantly. “Jesus Christ,” she said with a disbelieving laugh. “No. I love you. So much. I know you’re frustrated with me, but Jesus, no, I would never cheat on you. I just - I just need some space!” She said as her voice rose in desperation at the end. She breathed and spoke softly. “Please. Can we just go to bed?”
You felt tears begin to prickle at your eyes and you quickly looked away. You cleared your throat.
“Yeah. You go on ahead. I’ll be in in a bit,” you told her, hoping the tightness in your throat didn’t betray the steadiness you hoped to relay. By the way she remained rooted to her spot, her gaze boring into you as you determinedly avoided it, she wasn’t fooled.
“Y/N,” she said gently.
“I’ll be there soon,” you repeated as you were the one to now brush imaginary dust off the table.
-------
Your anniversary came and went, and though Jessie did send flowers to your office and brought home a card and a gift, she was quiet and distracted all night.
As you laid together in bed that night, you feigning looking at something on your phone, but rather, vacantly staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about how long it had been since you two had been intimate. It'd been weeks. Since all of this started, really.
The longest breaks you two typically had were simply due to her being out of town, but with how distant and moody she'd been, initiating sex just never felt right and she certainly hadn't initiated either.
As much as you missed the physical, it was the emotional intimacy you missed most.
You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. She wore a gentle frown that you still found so endearing as she read her book. The knot in your stomach told you not to do anything, but instead, you snuggled in and began laying soft, feathery kisses on her and let your hands start to wander.
She stiffened slightly under your touch, her shoulders growing taut and her fingers gripping her book tighter. Beyond that, she laid there, unmoving and quiet and the knot in your stomach grew tighter. The hungry moans, salacious grins, and eager hands you were used to from her were far from present.
Still, you blindly hoped that if you just continued, she'd respond in time. The worst moment of all was when you were about to reach down to cup and caress her through her boxers and she gently, but firmly grasped your hand and pushed you away.
"Baby," she said in a type of lament that confused you further. "I'm just-" she finally looked at you, giving you an apologetic look, "I'm just not feeling well. I’m sorry.”
The tightness in your stomach spread rapidly, settling in your throat. You couldn't help but swallow dryly before pulling away. You tried to give her a smile, but it faltered as quickly as it formed and you turned onto your side and away from her.
"Babe," she whispered remorsefully as she laid a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged her off.
"It's fine," you dismissed as evenly as you could. You closed your eyes determinedly and did your best to ignore the tears that began to form behind your eyelids.
"I love you," she said as though she was pleading forgiveness.
You shut your eyes tighter and irritation swept over you as you sniffled against your will.
"Love you too," you forced yourself to say. You hoped your voice didn't tremble the way it did in your head.
She sighed softly and laid her hand gently on your shoulder once more, caressing you with her thumb.
"Jessie. It's okay," you said more tersely than you'd hoped. You'd never really felt the need to hide your emotions around her, but lately - and especially right now - you didn't want her to know how upset you were.
Disappointment came over you at your inability to weather her rejection. Her hand remained on you and you felt her watching you. You exhaled quietly.
"Just read your book, please."
-----------
The following day, outside of a cold goodbye on your part in the morning despite the coffee and eager smile she offered you, you determinedly ignored her. No pining texts with questions about her day that sought affirmation and connection with her. No unprompted stories about your day. Nothing. You waited for her.
And you got nothing in return.
You were fuming by the time you got home. This so-called feeling of empowerment or self-satisfaction over being equally distant to her had proved exceedingly fickle and been replaced by more upset.
You were going to busy yourself by working on a puzzle, but that reminded you too much of her. You settled on a book, but you were woefully distracted and had only managed to read 15 pages - very little of which you remembered - by the time you heard her key slip into the lock of the front door.
You determinedly kept your head down, buried in your book, but after several moments of relative silence you couldn't help but shoot a glare at the wall towards the entry way where she seemed to be lingering. You were about to blurt out a snide remark when you finally heard her footsteps.
The annoyance bubbling just below the surface dissipated quickly as she tentatively stepped around the wall and into the living room. You locked eyes with her and she wore such a somber look that a pit immediately formed in your stomach. No smile, no brightness in her eyes. Just a heavy look and it seemed like she was on the verge of tears. She just stood there and stared at you.
Your mouth grew dry as you watched her. She picked at the skin of her fingers and you saw her visibly swallow several times. Your throat tightened inexplicably as she began to speak.
"I've been standing in the hall for 20 minutes because I've been too scared to come inside." Her voice was low and wavered just so. She'd dropped her gaze and couldn't look at you. She swallowed again. "To have this conversation."
Your heart started to race and you shifted forward on the couch cushion, now teetering towards the edge.
She took a deep breath and gestured aimlessly with a hand as she spoke, eventually meeting your watchful gaze once more.
"I've been just," her face fell briefly as she paused. Her eyebrows remained knitted together and her voice grew taut, "sick to my stomach for weeks. I haven't known what to say. How to say it. When. I just," her voice broke and her lip trembled as she shook her head subtly.
Your shoulders rose and fell as you tried to breath and calm yourself. To brace yourself. She took a quick breath.
"And it hasn't been fair to you. I know things have been shitty. I've been shitty. And I've made you feel like it wasn't true. And I'm so sorry for that," she beseeched, eyes now shimmering. "I just needed some time."
She paused again, visibly on the brink of tears and emotions. Her face screwed up again, but she didn't speak.
"Jessie, what the hell is going on," you cut in, your own voice shaking as tears began to burn behind your own eyes. Whatever admission she was building up to - and you had a feeling you knew exactly what it was - was already piercing you.
Your question seemed to draw her out of her upset briefly and she looked at you anew. She steeled herself and strode over to you, ignoring the way you tensed up in apprehension and she sat down a few inches away from you, but shifted enough so she was facing you.
"I need you to know that I love you more than anything," she said in earnest as she searched your eyes. "You are everything to me. I need you. And I so desperately want us to build our life together. To have the future we planned for."
"Jesus Christ, Jess. Just fucking tell me," you interjected, ready to burst as she continued her speech. You felt a rage and heartache taking over already and you challenged her further. "Just tell me what happened. Who it was."
She looked momentarily taken aback, but also unbothered in a way that made you want to scream.
"I-it's not like that," she responded, voice growing thin as she worked to hold your gaze. "I swear," she said as her eyes began to grow watery once more.
You scoffed. "Then what is it?" Your mask of anger slipped and your voice came out pleading. "Just tell me."
She visibly swallowed and her gazed dropped briefly before she met yours once more with an imploring look and determination.
"I didn't cheat on you. I said I'd never do that and I meant it." She let that set in before carrying on. Her hands were fidgety and you could see her breathing quicken slightly. "I want a future with you - more than ever," she emphasized. "But," she took a shaky breath, "it
my future
our future, it," she trailed off briefly before recentering herself. Her eyes closed for a second as she took a deep, silent breath. When she opened them again she spoke in a quiet, but measured voice. "It's going to look different."
You subconsciously narrowed your eyes at her, unsure what to make of that statement. She ran a hand distractedly through her hair before gripping the cushion beneath her with both hands, hunching in on herself slightly.
"I've been so
not myself. Unsettled. Cagey. Everything you've said. I've been like that the past several weeks because
" She struggled to continue and your breath held firm in your throat. "I found out that I," she was breathing audibly now as you watched her intently. She looked at you and the air in the apartment hung heavy. "I have a kid, Y/N."
She finished so softly, but it echoed in your head. Still, your mind churned in an effort to properly process it. She couldn’t possibly have said what she said. She held your stare.
"I have a daughter."
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