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miumura · 3 months

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IN ANOTHER LIFE, YOU’D BE THE ONE.

assigning enhypen sad tropes / endings

PAIRING enhypen x gn!reader GENRE angst, some fluff? WARNINGS some r not portrayed in a good light (bc of the trope ideas) WORD COUNT varies from 0.3-0.7K+ per

DISCLAIMER these are just random tropes that i think suits them, however, this is not a true depiction of how enhypen truly acts in real life. this is simply just fictional.

‘ 💬 ’ hanniluvi cb? HAHA sorry for disappearing on you guys, but i just finished finals & school is ending soon !!! so yk what that means 😊! slowly making my way back 2 writing 🫡 this was def made randomly and somehow i was committed to it so here you guys go!!

HEESEUNG — HE FAILED THE SECOND TIME.

i don’t really have an explanation to this, i just think he suits this kind of trope? like he truly loves you to the point where he’s willing to give another shot into the relationship. but when trying again, he realizes the problem but was too late to fix it once more.

You wouldn’t have expected either, but the buzz coming from your phone would be a text message from Heeseung. Shock and adrenaline rushed within your body as he was the first to break the “no contact” rule after your break up.

Without a second thought, you found yourself propped up against your bed frame, texting him instead of sleeping. It was going well, until the text messages started becoming more flirtatious.

Even so, it felt different. It felt like you two were finally ready to try again. When he arrived at your doorstep with flowers and a sign asking, "CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?", you found no reason to decline.

Texts? He sent you thoughtful good morning and good night messages regularly.

Dates? He always paid attention to your preferences, leading to more spontaneous dates than anticipated.

Gifts? He surprised you with "just because" gifts, often accompanied by adorable notes.

Perhaps it seemed too perfect, but you were too in love to see any warning signs. His initial initiative in reaching out first felt like destiny. However, those blissful three to four months soon dissolved into nothing.

Texts? His responses come much later, and those sweet good morning and good night messages? Few and far between.

Dates? You're the one initiating them, and they lack the genuine spark they once had.

Gifts? It's only you who's putting in the effort, mirroring the gestures he used to make.

You've noticed he's slipping back into old patterns. Heeseung is consumed by his own schedule, neglecting those around him. Attempts to communicate often circle back to his work, leaving no room to discuss your relationship. He's too drained to prioritize you.

Perhaps you shouldn't have expected more or less, considering you already gave him another chance before.

You tried waiting, but with each passing day, you only disappointed yourself further.

So you gradually stopped texting, stopped putting in effort, stopped caring. And what came of it? Nothing.

Nothing until he randomly resurfaced with texts again.

People never change.

This time, without the previous excitement and nerves, you found yourself indifferent to even bother replying. Maybe your silence would speak volumes, considering he's accustomed to the silence he often gives you.

Maybe, you shouldn't have replied in the first place.

JAY — YOU FELL OUT OF LOVE, HE LOVED TOO HARD.

honestly, i see jay as a person who would absolutely do everything and anything for anyone. like this man would have no problem doing anything if it was meant to help anyone he loved. he just gives off the energy / whole idea of “so much love to give, gets not much in return.”

Since you started dating Jay, this guy has been nothing short of perfect to you. He constantly surprises you with flowers, insists on carrying everything for you, and showers you with compliments at every opportunity.

On the surface, it all seemed too good to be true. Despite having what many would consider the "perfect" boyfriend, you found yourself drifting away. Feelings slowly waned, and you began to distance yourself from the person who loved you the most.

Initially, you might not have noticed, but he did. As you began to give him less attention, show less reaction to his gestures, and the love in your eyes faded upon seeing him, he observed it all.

He witnessed you transform into someone unrecognizable. He recognized the signs of change, and perhaps he should have let go then. Yet, there remained a part of him that was reluctant to give up, still holding onto hope and the desire to keep trying.

Despite his earnest efforts to salvage the relationship, he couldn't escape the inevitable "Let’s break up" conversation. He hadn't realized how much his attempts to reignite your love were taking a toll on him until you made the decision to end things.

For months, he had maintained a facade of "everything will be okay," but now, faced with the reality of losing you, he began to crumble. He had invested so much time and energy into becoming a better person for someone he loved, only to realize that he was sacrificing himself in the process.

He couldn't blame you; he never would. He understood that you were falling out of love, and perhaps he should have let go sooner. But he couldn't shake the feelings he still harbored for you, even as they led to nothing but heartache.

Getting over you won't be as simple as he had hoped. He'll likely continue to blame himself, wondering what he could have done differently to be a better boyfriend for you.

But deep down, you know he did nothing wrong. He was a wonderful partner; it's just that you had fallen out of love, and sometimes, that's nobody's fault.

JAKE — RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIME.

DUDEEEEE, you can’t tell me jake gives off the vibes of a person you’d always think about. no matter how much you try to forget him, you visually can’t get him out of your head. like you truly like this guy, but because of the time/fate, it lead you guys onto separate paths. this trope sounds cliche, but it’s the best way i can word it.

Jake embodied everything you sought in a partner. From his looks to his humor, and especially his personality, he checked all the boxes. Spending time with him felt like a whirlwind; the hours flew by when it was just the two of you.

Ever since he moved in next door, you found yourself drawn to him, intrigued by his every move. What began as subtle glances evolved into friendly greetings and eventually daily hangouts.

You never knew you could be this over the heels with someone until you met him. You found yourself looking forward to his daily texts and him sending silly videos that reminded him of you. You found yourself making silly trinkets and dropping them off in his mailbox. You found yourself with a pink envelope in your hand, walking to the park to give to him.

And as always, you saw that smile that always managed to brighten up your day. Sitting next to him on the swings, as you expected to be faced with another few hours of random talk with him, you’d be suddenly hit with the news of him having to move.

You didn't want to believe it.

You hoped he was joking, but instead, you were met with a disappointed look on his face. He seemed almost ashamed that this was happening, even though you knew it wasn't his fault.

You could imagine how badly he felt, so you kept your emotions in check and simply told him you would miss him. That night, you went home with tears staining the pink envelope you had intended to give him—a letter of your confession.

You had planned to give it to him that day, but instead, you saved it for his last day.

"Here," you said, pressing your lips into a thin line as you handed him the envelope.

"What is this?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"A letter—but don't read it now!"

"Why not? You're tempting me," Jake replied, raising an eyebrow as he held the envelope with care.

"Well, don't listen to your temptations because—hey!" Before you could finish, he had already opened it, revealing its contents.

"This is embarrassing," you mumbled into your hands, feeling the heat rise to your face. Peeking through your fingers, you saw his eyes getting watery as he chuckled at parts of your letter.

When he finished reading, Jake looked at you and extended his arms. You immediately fell into his embrace, feeling his warmth surround you. Placing a hand on the back of your head, he whispered into your ear, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" your voice cracked, fearing that your confession would lead to nothing.

"I'm sorry this had to be this way," he said, clearing his throat and fighting back tears stirred by your emotional letter. "If it wasn't obvious enough, I like you too."

You felt a mix of relief and sadness. Despite your mutual feelings, fate was pulling you in different directions.

Before you could say another word, his family was already calling him to leave. Jake gave you one last squeeze and a look filled with fondness.

"I'll try to contact you often, okay, YN?"

"Okay," you replied.

As he waved goodbye with red eyes and that beautiful smile you loved, you saw him for the last time in person, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your heart.

SUNGHOON — JUST “FAKE DATING”.

do you see the vision that i’m visioning. like i don’t know, it just works out?? like i can see you two starting to fake date, it leads to something more (at least that’s what you think), and that all disappears, repeating once more. like it seems like he means it, but at the same time, his actions seem to prove otherwise. it’s like a constant cycle that you don’t want to or know how to get out of.

"I'm telling you, I don't think you should be doing this," your friend insisted, both online and in person. "Hanging with Sunghoon is only going to hurt you."

You never anticipated how your own choices might backfire. As a good friend, you just wanted to help Park Sunghoon make someone jealous. After all, with his pleading tone, how could you possibly say no?

If only you just believe his rule, "Don't fall in love with each other," this should be easy. You just needed to play the role—that’s all you had to do.

So, it started off slowly.

You two were together all the time, which was normal for you both. But whenever his ex came around, you could feel him inching closer, invading your personal space. It wasn’t much, but it felt rather intimate...though that was the plan.

Then it escalated. Sunghoon didn’t just act like a boyfriend in person and at school; he began behaving the same way outside of school and over text.

You spent more time together, going to places, laughing as you took pictures. He started showing up at your house unannounced, and the two of you would stay up late, binge-watching your favorite shows and having those nightly talks.

He even introduced you to his friends. Would someone go to such lengths for a fake relationship?

It just didn’t feel like pretending. You felt something there, something that couldn’t be easily explained.

You tried to brush it aside, but your feelings for him only grew. You were definitely falling for his stupid, swooning charms.

You hoped he was falling for you too.

But that sliver of hope crashed down when you saw him with the very person he had wanted to chase after.

They were smiling and holding hands. He looked so...happy.

After he gave them a final hug, he turned and met your gaze, your eyes slightly glistening.

"Thank you, YN," he said, with that stupid grin on his face—the one you had fallen for. Seeing it now only made your stomach twist painfully.

“Thank you? That’s….that’s it?”

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon gave you a confused look. “Did you expect something more?”

“I would’ve loved an explanation.”

“What?”

You pressed your lips together, but your emotions were overflowing.

“Why would you treat me like that? I mean, why would you treat me so nicely? Why would you try so hard that it made me feel like we could’ve had something…real?”

“YN…”

"Just why, Sunghoon? If you knew this was only going to be a fake relationship, why did you create something special only for it to be discarded?"

"I'm sorry, YN. I never intended my gestures to be misleading, so I never purposefully planned that. I did enjoy our time together, but I have to end whatever we had because I now have the person I will always want."

Right.

No matter how hard you try, you can't change Sunghoon's mind.

You aren’t the person he wants.

After all, that was the whole point of his plan.

Don’t fall in love with each other.

SUNOO — YOU TWO DRIFTED APART.

i feel like with sunoo, since he has such an outgoing and bubbly demeanor, it allows him to easily connect with others. so with that idea in mind, why not because of his personality and him constantly being involved in new crowds, it causes him to have no time for you. without realizing it at first, he soon forgets about his priority: you.

You can't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions: confused, overwhelmed, sad.

Sunoo is a great guy, and you know that. But his bubbly personality seems to be interfering with your relationship.

At first, you were completely fine with it. He helped you meet new people, pushed you out of your comfort zone, and, most importantly, you saw him extremely happy. That’s all you really wanted.

But lately, you've noticed that he’s been paying less attention to you. Even when it's just the two of you, he often ends up calling someone or suddenly engaging in conversations with people around you.

You always had to make the plans, and his reactions seemed less genuine compared to when he was with others. Would it be wrong to think that you don’t matter to him anymore?

You always had to initiate conversations. Always.

Just like every other day, you were on the phone with Sunoo, the silence filling the room. No one was talking, and you could probably assume he was messaging someone else while on the phone with you.

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke. “Sunoo?” You didn’t know why you were nervous; he was your boyfriend, after all.

“Yes?”

“Um…” Your throat felt like it was closing up on you. You never wanted to seem pushy or insecure because of his behavior—you just wanted to feel special again, like you did at the beginning of the relationship. It should be easy to tell someone like him, right?

“Just tell me, YN.”

“Listen…” You hesitated before continuing. “Do you even… love me anymore?”

“Seriously? What kind of question is that? Of course I love you. Do I not show you that?”

“Well… no.” You bit your lip, hoping to get the closure you needed.

“I didn’t know you felt that way. I hope you know that you’re my—oh, YN. I’m sorry, I really have to go. I promised to hang out with Jungwon today. I’ll call you back, okay? Love you.”

You heard the other line beep, leaving you feeling empty. Removing the phone from your ear and dropping it in your lap, you looked at the calendar next to you. Today's date had a large red circle with little hearts doodled around the event “OUR ANNIVERSARY.”

He was hanging out with Jungwon instead of you. He forgot it. You stared at the hearts, feeling a knot form in your stomach. This day had meant so much to you, and now it felt like just another ordinary, lonely day.

His "I love you"s always reassured you—but now? They did nothing but make you feel worse.

He really doesn’t realize how much he’s hurting you, does he?

JUNGWON — THE CLASSIC SECOND LEAD.

okay okay, hear me out. i feel like jungwon suits the idea of a person liking someone, but too afraid to actually make a move. like he would want to keep people he like closely, but he would never do anything that seemed like it would lead to a fallout or anything more. so because of this, it leads to him watching you love someone else on the sidelines.

Jungwon has always been a nervous guy, and being in love only amplified his anxiety.

After spending so much time getting to know you, he realized he was falling—deeply. And he hated how it made him feel.

He hated how he would stutter when trying to make eye contact with you.

He hated how he took extra time to fix his hair.

He hated how he felt like a nervous wreck every time he initiated a hangout outside of school and work, praying you’d have the time.

But all those things he hated would soon fade away when he was with you. He began to appreciate himself for making the effort—it felt worth it.

Any moment with you felt special to him—enough for him to lay in bed and think about it all night.

He loved how you made him feel seen and understood, something he had not felt with anyone else.

If he were to date someone, he would want it to be you.

"Isn't he so dreamy?"

Hearing those words crushed his hopes of ever making you his.

He found himself sitting across from you, listening to you talk about this new guy, feeling a knot form in his stomach.

"Are you listening, Won?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. What happened again?" He nervously chuckled, clearly not wanting to hear what was going to come out of your mouth.

"We're going on a date tomorrow!"

His heart was about to burst.

Deep down, he wished he could tell you how he truly felt, how much he cared about you, but it seemed like there would be no point.

Every word felt like a stab, yet he forced a smile. "I am so happy for you, YN."

And there was that smile—the very smile he hoped to see whenever you talked about him. But instead, that beautiful smile was for somebody else.

As you continued excitedly talking about your upcoming date, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing that he would always be just a friend, never the one you longed for.

Jungwon found another thing he hates about being in love.

He hates how loving someone can ultimately hurt you too.

NIKI — “TOO HARD TO LOVE”.

i can somehow see niki being apart of a trope where there is a lack of communication. like i think it would be hard to express himself properly, leading him to become closed off. like he would do tests to see how much you actually cared for him, leading to his own unsatisfaction. and yet, he still wouldn’t communicate it properly, leading to the downfall of your relationship with him.

"It doesn't seem like you care," Niki let slip out over the phone, his words not quite what he had intended to say to you.

"What do you mean?" you responded, clearly frustrated. "How can you say I don't care?"

"You haven't reached out to me."

"And what about you?"

"What?" Niki was taken aback by your abruptness.

"You never tell me anything. How am I supposed to know that you even want to be around me when all you've done is just push me away?"

The silence hung heavy between you, the weight of unspoken emotions palpable even through the phone line. Niki's mind raced, grappling with the sudden confrontation. He hadn't anticipated this turn in their conversation, nor had he realized the extent of his own actions until now.

Niki had never experienced this level of comfort and connection with anyone before.

He hadn't anticipated falling in love again—until he met you.

You possessed all the qualities he had been searching for, and being with you felt incredibly natural. So, it came as a surprise when he found himself in a relationship with you; it all seemed almost too perfect to be true.

Without even realizing, Niki was starting to become rather distant. He never intended to, but he was afraid of becoming a burden to you. The thought of investing so much time and energy into someone who might eventually leave scared him.

"I... I didn't realize," Niki stammered, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and guilt. "I didn't mean to push you away. I just... I've been dealing with some stuff lately, and I guess I haven't been handling it well."

"Then you could've told me, but you didn't. You only talked to me because I was always the one reaching out first," you finally said, your voice heavy with hurt. "So why?"

Niki felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of your words sinking in. He struggled to find the right words, the right explanation, but nothing seemed adequate.

"I don't know," he admitted softly. "Maybe I was scared."

"Scared of what?" you pressed gently.

"Just... just forget it," Niki muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’m sorry.”

"Niki, I need to know that you're willing to put in the effort, to be open with me. This relationship can't work if it's one-sided."

"I just don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice breaking slightly.

"I don't know if I can believe that."

"What?" Niki's voice was filled with surprise and hurt.

"I can't tell if you're honest with me. You've done this more than once, Niki."

"But it's true!" His voice raised higher, clearly panicked by how the situation had escalated.

"You say that, but actions speak louder than words," you replied, trying to stay calm despite the turmoil inside. "If you really don't want to lose me, you need to show it, not just say it."

Niki should've taken that as a sign to finally show what he'd been holding back. He should've explained why he had such a hard time expressing his feelings, and proved to you that you were someone he truly wanted.

But he didn't. He found himself holding back once again, repeating the very behavior you truly hated.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's... that's it?" You scoffed in disbelief. "Really?"

Niki felt a surge of panic and regret. He knew he was failing you again, but the words just wouldn't come. "I don't know what else to say," he admitted, feeling helpless.

"You could start by being honest," you replied, frustration evident. "Why is it so hard for you to open up? Why do you keep pushing me away?"

Niki hesitated, the fear of vulnerability clawing at him. "It's not that simple," he said finally. "I've never been good at this. I've always been afraid of getting too close, of being hurt again. But that's no excuse. I know I need to change."

"Then show me," you insisted. "Show me that you mean it. I need to see that you care enough to try."

Your silence was heavy, filled with both skepticism and a flicker of hope. "Call me when you're finally ready for this. I think we both need a break to think things over clearly, okay?"

Niki should have seen this coming. But instead of running away from the problem like he used to, he accepted it. "Okay."

You hung up the phone, leaving Niki alone with his thoughts. Determined, he knew he had to win you back and prove he could be different, better than he had been throughout the entire relationship.

💬 : if it doesn’t seem obvious enough, i’m trying to get back into writing longer fics 🤫

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bbydoll18xx · 4 months

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Pet Names And Airplanes (Part 2)

The aftermath of the airplane ride leaves Paige moaning once more.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 2 based on this request: I have a request but it's not fully thought out but all the traveling she's been doing has got me thinking. Basically Paige x friend where there's some tension emotionally and physically but neither of them know it rlly. Paige is groggy bc they had to catch an early flight to go somewhere and while sitting next to each other on the plane, her mind starts wandering and she accidentally says smthg dirty out loud to the reader which obviously leads to a build of tension on their flight that they end up having to deal with. How they deal w it and such can be up to you.

Read Part 1 here :)

Themes: bottom!Paige, SMUT, but also some fluffiness

Word Count: 2.7k

To whoever requested bottom Paige, I hope this is acceptable lol

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How the hell did you get here?

Your heart is beating furiously, and your head feels fuzzy. You are pulled away from the grounding grips of reality as Paige continues to lick into your mouth with a delicious fervor. It was all-consuming, and you think that you would surrender everything in order to keep Paige’s mouth on yours.

Her lips ghost across yours once more before trailing down to attach to the delicate flesh of your throat. Quiet whines are spilling from your lips, as she alternates between hot, open mouth kisses and sucking, soothing the marks with her tongue. You anticipate the trail of tattoo kisses that would soon adorn your neck, leaving you with undeniable proof of Paige’s affections.

Her hands are wandering now, and your eyes flutter shut at the pure absurdity of the situation. Paige is kissing you. And neither of you were dreaming this time.

Paige’s hands fist at the oversized shirt you had been sleeping in, and her lips find yours once more. As her warm hands find their way onto the soft skin of your abdomen, your phone rings, cutting through the room harshly. Your eyes fly open, meeting Paige’s, and she hesitantly pulls away from you, allowing you to grab your phone that was resting on the nightstand.

“Fuck, it’s Nika,” you whisper, trying to fix your hair and lopsided shirt. Paige does the same, and she fixes the wrinkled bed sheets quickly.

Sliding the screen to open the FaceTime, you wave to a smiling Nika.

“Hi guys!” Nika practically yells over the phone. “I can’t wait to see you tonight! How was the flight here?”

Looking at Paige, who turns a delicate shade of pink at the mention of the airplane ride, she mumbles, “The plane was aight. Mostly just slept. Can’t wait to see you, too.”

You nod your head in agreement, avoiding meeting Paige’s gaze on the screen of your phone. The three of you chat a few more minutes, cementing your plans for later in the evening once Nika was out of practice. She soon hung up, leaving you and Paige to stare at each other once more.

You desperately try to avoid glancing down at her lips, but it was nearly impossible. Her tongue darts out to run across her bottom lip, slightly swollen from the kiss. The action unwittingly causes you to catch your own bottom lip between your teeth, biting down in an attempt to subdue your skepticism.

“We should definitely do that again,” Paige declares, and your heart nearly stops at her words. You were expecting things to be awkward, worried that your friendship would dissolve into a weird dynamic.

You laugh, and a pink blush blooms across your cheeks at the boldness of your best friend. A wave of relief washes over your senses, and your rapid pulse slows at the realization that things would be okay between you two. Maybe even better than okay.

“I agree,” you whisper, trying to hide the huge grin that was threatening to give away your casual act. “But let's go sightseeing first.”

Paige, who typically was eager to go out exploring, sighed dramatically before acquiescing as you flashed puppy dog eyes and a not-so subtle pout in her direction.

She was so whipped.

The two of you spend the afternoon in downtown Seattle. The weather was surprisingly sunny, and as you strolled down the street with an ice cream cone, the sheer domesticity of the day hits you like a fucking truck.

Paige has her free hand in yours, the other holding her own ice cream. You glance up at her, and try to hold back a giggle as her tongue chases a stray drop that is sliding down the cone onto her wrist. It was getting harder to ignore the feelings you had for her, and it threatened to overtake you until you were a withering mess of nothingness.

You are pulled out of your head, as Paige squeezes your hand. As you look up at her once more, the fond smile adorning her beautiful face makes you realize that you were not necessarily alone in your affections. And it was so comforting.

You and Paige walk through the door of your hotel room, and as it shuts, apprehension fills you up once again. You were alone with Paige. And the idea of kissing her again was fucking with your mind.

You kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at Paige to see where her head was at. You’re greeted with bright blue eyes and that ridiculous tongue of hers peeking out of her mouth seductively. It was positively sinful, and it gave you the courage to grab her hand and pull her between your parted legs. She leans down to kiss you slowly. While her earlier kisses had been full of want and lust, this one was pure passion. It was a promise, and as you kiss her back, you let all the unspoken words fall from your mouth into hers.

Your hands roam to find her waist, and your touch causes Paige to speed up the kiss. Longingness fuels her, and soon enough, your lips are meeting hers with an unbridled urgency that you had never experienced before. Falling backwards onto the bed, Paige’s lips pull away from yours to attach to your neck once more, and through the haziness of your thoughts, you think that maybe she has a certain fascination with it. She trails messy kisses down your throat and adds a few small marks below your ear to the ever growing collection. The thought of them fading away causes a pang in your chest, but somehow you just know that Paige will no longer let you go without the purple marks embellishing your skin.

Paige pulls away from your neck, making you pout at the loss of contact, and she meets your eyes with a smug smirk. She just knows the effect she has over you. Your panties are fucking soaked, and your pupils are blown wide with lust.

You don’t forget, though, how she was moaning out for you in her sleep this morning. And the thought of this pulls out an equally smug look from you. It was your turn to be in control, and you were going to turn Paige into a whimpering mess.

You sit up in the bed, and Paige moves with you, a surprised look flitting across her face. Now you both are sitting straight up, legs still entangled and eyes connected in a wordless conversation.

You make the first move.

Your hand reaches out to cup Paige’s cheek, reconnecting your lips in another bruising kiss. She lets out a groan at the contact, relishing in you taking control. You wish you could spend the rest of your life hearing her little noises on repeat.

Pushing Paige back once more against the soft pillows of the hotel bed, you position yourself on top of her. Your right knee comes to rest in between her parted legs, and as you press it against the sopping heat of her core, she moans out your name.

“Fuck, P, you like that?” You purr, secretly exhilarated at her pure, unadulterated neediness. She nods at your question, eyes shut in pleasure as you find a spot right under her ear to suck and bite at. She wasn’t going to get away with silence, and you reach up to loosely wrap a hand around her throat. “Use your words, baby,” you murmur, pressing several small kisses up and down her neck as she gives in.

“Need you, princess,” Paige whines. The words are so unfamiliar to the confident Paige you knew and loved, but the stark want in her voice had you nearly drooling with lust.

You were going to make her feel so, so good. And that was a promise.

“You’ve got me, Paigey,” you whisper, and your hands find the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She allows you to pull off her pants, lifting her butt up to let you slide them over her hips. As she lays back against the pillows, clad in only a sports bra and boxers, you let your gaze wander over her athletic body. The heat of your stare causes Paige to writhe impatiently, desperate to feel some pleasure.

“My pretty girl,” you breathe, sliding a hand down the side of Paige’s ribcage, admiring the pale flesh of her toned stomach. You lean down and press open mouth kisses up and down her abdomen before taking off her bra. You admire her again and attach your mouth to a nipple, eliciting another whine from Paige. The sound inflates your ego, and you bring a hand up to pinch the other one.

“More,” she chokes out brokenly, and you were not going to deny the blonde. You were going to give her everything until she was begging you to stop.

Satisfied with the marks you leave scattered across her chest, you move down to the waistband of her boxers. Your breath fans over Paige’s belly button, and hers hitches in the anticipation. Looking up at her, trying to gauge her reaction, you see her eyes screwed shut in concentration.

“Open those pretty eyes for me, baby,” you request gently, and your heart lurches once she complies. Her clear, blue eyes flutter open, revealing her neediness in blown pupils and a darkness that you’ve never seen before.

She had never looked so beautiful.

You pull down Paige’s boxers, throwing them onto the floor. The cool air of the room hits her sopping center, and Paige lets out a gasp. You wanted to immediately dive in, but you knew it would be more fun to tease. Pressing hot, open mouth kisses all over her hips and down to her inner thighs, you revel in the moans pouring from Paige’s mouth.

She is now just short of begging.

“Please, princess. Need more. Touch me.”

Getting drunk off of her desperation, you swallow your own instincts to just give in to her and fuck her senselessly. But you weren't going to give in that easily.

“Gotta tell me where you wanna be touched, pretty girl. Just gotta tell me, and I’ll take such good care of you.” Your words are husky, now, darkening your typical giggly disposition, and Paige secretly savors the dominance pouring out of you.

Another kiss to her inner thigh pulls another whine out of Paige, and she’s bucking her hips up in an attempt to feel a shred of pressure against her pulsating clit.

“Please, baby…please. N-need you to touch my…pussy.”

Fucking finally.

For a moment you thought Paige’s stubbornness would prevail, but it seems that her overwhelming neediness was hijacking her typical need for control.

You take a second to savor it. Paige Bueckers was spread out in front of you at your every whim, and you were going to enjoy this.

Two fingers ghost across her inner thigh and come to rest at her dripping hole. You gather her wetness, swirling it around her folds and up to her clit.

A long groan falls out of Paige’s mouth as you finally touch her, followed by several expletives when you replace your fingers for your hot, wet tongue. You had been dying to taste her all day, and your patience was rewarded as you licked a fat stripe from the weeping hole of her pussy up to flick across her clit with a maddening pace.

With no intent on stopping, or even slowing down, you push in two fingers, and the sudden entry causes Paige’s moans to grow even louder. Torn between wanting the whole world to hear just how good you were making her feel and wanting to keep her all to yourself, you whisper “Gotta be a little quieter for me, baby. Can you be a good girl?”

The last thing you needed was unnecessary attention distracting you from making Paige cum like she never has before.

A quieter whimper leaves Paige’s throat, satisfying you, and you reward her with a third finger, curling them all up to the spongy flesh that holds all the pleasure.

Paige is humping against your hand now, moaning out, “Feels so good, princess, oh my…god.” Her noises are nothing short of pornographic, and you feel your own wetness slide down your inner thighs.

“Tell me who’s making you feel this good, Paigey,” you grit out, intoxicated from her essence and needing the extra validation to push you over the edge.

Paige moans out your name, and your head soars. You had spent many nights dreaming of scenarios just like this, but nothing compared to having her wrapped around your finger, as she was now.

Quite literally.

Continuing your brutal assault on her g-spot and eating her out as if she was the last meal left on earth, you feel Paige’s pussy start to clench around you.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You urge, and she lets out a strangled whine. “Let go, cum for me, P.”

And she does. The sound was heavenly as your name leaves her lips over and over again, like it was a prayer. She throws an arm across her face, as if the release was just too much, and you revel in your abilities. No one else made Paige feel like this but you.

Giving the blonde a few moments to ride out her high, you slow down, letting the orgasm wash over her. Paige’s chest rises and falls, giving way to labored breaths, and once her legs stop twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all, you crawl up to meet her in a slow kiss.

It’s different than earlier. The passion is still there, but there is no longer something to prove, and the two of you bask in the glow of a friendship that had developed into something more.

“That was fuckin’ incredible,” Paige murmurs, voice raspy now, and you grin at her praises.

“What can I say? I’m pretty great,” you gloat, feeling like you had an orgasm yourself.

Nika is due to arrive at your hotel any second now, and you finish the final touch ups of your makeup. Paige is behind you, staring at you through the mirror with a fond look on her face that has your stomach erupting in butterflies.

Paige spins you around and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering, “Look at my pretty princess. I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.” A blush engulfs your face at the thought, and it takes an impressive amount of restraint to avoid pushing her up against the wall and attaching your lips to hers.

A loud knock sounds through the hotel room, pulling the two of you away from your affections. Nika’s smiling face appears as you open the door, and she pulls you into a huge hug.

“Oh my god. I missed you so much,” she mumbles into your neck. You giggle, repeating her words, as the two of you rock back and forth in a friendly embrace.

Nika pulls away and steps behind you, jumping onto Paige, yelling in Paige’s ear about how she had ‘missed her twin.’ Paige lets out an affectionate chuckle, telling Nika that she had missed her, too.

Once the hugging was over, Nika stands in front of you and Paige with a smirk on her face. “So what have you two been up to today?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes.

You feel her gaze roam over the hickey peeking out under the collar of your shirt, and your cheeks heat up.

Paige runs a hand across her face, trying to avoid looking guilty, and Nika gives her a knowing look.

“About damn time, honestly you two.”

And there was no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Part 3

this was a lil too much fun to write. hope you beautiful people enjoyed it

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x you #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #friends to lovers #fluff #smut #wlw smut

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cheriecelestial · 6 months

Text

Angel Pt.II

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ fluff. suggestive content. swearing. 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ™️. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ So here’s part 2. I’m aware of the poll results, but I had already planned to go against the consensus beforehand (cuz ain’t nobody tells me what to do). So smut in pt.III I promise. pls don’t be mad. Comment, Reblog and Like（╹◡╹）♡

╰ ┈➤ Part I

One of Jason's most cherished aspects of his Red Hood helmet was its ability to allow him to doze off undetected. He was curious how Y/N would react if he fell asleep at her place. He knew many people often tried, and foolishly so, to take off his helmet when he was asleep to try to find his identity. Despite his affection for her, he felt the need to ensure her trustworthiness because he knew he wouldn't be able to bear if she betrayed him. If she were to betray him, he reasoned, it would be better sooner rather than later. Feigning sleep, he waited. For a while she just sat and watched him. And not in a vigilant or cautious way, atleast it didn't that way to him. He hoped she would remain that way, but fate seemed to have other plans for him. He heard her retreat to her room, the smallness of her apartment allowing him to observe almost every movement. Maybe I'll buy her a nicer place, he thought to himself.

As she approached him, she checked once more, hiding something behind her back. She wouldn't try to take off his helmet, would she? A profound sense of dread and apprehension gripped him. She was the last person he wanted to betray him. Soon he found himself questioning his own judgment and the authenticity of the relationship. What did you expect? A sinister voice taunted him.

He felt his brain cloud with a whirlwind of emotions such as shock, disbelief, sadness, hurt, and confusion. When her fingertips grazed his helmet, it felt like a deep, agonizing wound piercing to his core. Initially, there was disbelief—a refusal to acknowledge that someone he loved and trusted could do that. He could feel the pit rage resurface, fierce and consuming, directed at her and perhaps even at himself for allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to be wounded in such a way.

He anticipated her lifting his helmet, only she didn't. She withdrew her hands and let out a tiny giggle. He was struck with the realisation that she didn't try to take his helmet off, rather she placed something atop it. It was out of his field of view so he couldn't quite tell what it was. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her take out her phone and snap a picture. Unfortunately for her, she forgot to switch off the flash. Jason took the opportunity and in the blink of an eye, her grabbed her wrist and flipped her over his shoulder, slamming into the couch. He pushed his forearm against her throat with his other hand pinning her under him.

“What do you think you're doing angel ?” He growled as his thumb trailed from her bottom lip to her cheek in a gesture that was equal parts sultry and sinister. Her eyes widened like saucers as cold sweat started to form on the side of her forehead. Her body might froze momentarily before trembling with fear. He didn't realise just how small she felt against him until he was on top of her. Akin to a quivering rabbit ensnared in a hunter's trap. Truth be told, the analogy wasn't far off.

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to. I swear it was a prank —" She tugged at her restraints with tears forming at the corner of her eyes, her breathing becoming shallower and rapid but Jason didn't budge. She felt all too aware of the situation she was in. His proximity so close that she could feel so exposed under his gaze. It was intimidating yet so intoxicating, the feeling of being enclosed by him, the scent that was so intense and virile was enough to make her head spin. She could hear her heartbeat resonating in her ears and it was clear that he could too. Needless to say, Y/N L/N messed up big time.

"What was ? Hmm?" He leaned in closer to her face until his helmet was mere centimeters away, relishing in the sadistic pleasure of watching her teary eyes as she whimpered and muttered incomprehensible apologies. Seeing her struggle to form words, he picked up her phone to view the picture she had taken. It was him with what seemed like — a fuzzy bear ears headband? He plucked it from his helmet, staring at it incredulously. You have got to be kidding me.

"You're so fucking adorable, you know that ?" He let out an airy chuckle that was felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh. "You're not mad at me ?"Y/N's voice sounded so desperate like a broken whimper. Her pretty eyes still wide and a little teary and red at the ends, a visible look of confusion etched onto it.

He wanted to stroke her cheek again, but he feared he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going further. "I don't know. Should I be?" He chuckled, and while he was mostly teasing, he couldn't help but marvel at her.

Despite his experiences with many women, he had never encountered someone so captivating. Just by the virtue of being pinned under him, she looked just so impossibly inviting. Jason found himself rendered breathless as his mind wandered into the realm of the most salacious thoughts.

"But this warrants punishment. Does it not?" He watched her breath catching in her throat, her cheeks and the tips of her ears flushing with heat.

Y/N swallowed hard," Punishment ?" She nervously peered at the man, a a slight shiver running down her spine as she could almost feel his piercing cold gaze from behind the red helmet. She understood her predicament and knew she shouldn't be enjoying it. It could take an unfavourable turn at any given moment and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Suddenly, he released her hands and leaned back. Despite feeling a little disoriented from his sudden absence of his towering self, Y/N sat back up. Jason held up the headband in his hand,"Do you have more of these?"

"A few. Yes" she replied.

"Go get them." he said nonchalantly. Y/N blinked at his request, feeling a hint of disappointment creeping in. As she rose slowly and made her way to the dresser, she scolded herself internally, Jesus get your brain out of the gutter Y/N. Not wanting to keep him waiting, she gathered all the headbands she had and dropped them onto the couch. "You have quite the collection," Jason chuckled, examining a headband. "Mostly from previous Halloweens and costume cafés I used to work at." Y/N explained. Jason's gaze settled on a particularly intriguing headband - white floppy bunny ears with pink bows. He tossed it onto her lap, grinning,“Put this on.”

Y/N complied without question and looked at him expectantly. Jason whipped out his phone and aimed it at her,“ Strike me a cute pose angel." Her eyes widened in a mix of surprise embarrassment," Wait what ?”

"Well you clicked that picture of me so it's pretty fair trade if you ask me." He reasoned, attempting to maintain a neutral tone, though secretly relishing the moment thoroughly. He maintained composure, not wanting to risk scaring her away. He eagerly snapped photos as Y/N reluctantly donned the headband and flashed a small peace sign, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He could feel his own heart racing in his chest and his face growing warm.

"Please don't show it to anyone. It's embarrassing," She pleaded. Jason acknowledged her request with an absentminded nod, slipping his phone into his pocket. He hadn't quite reached the stage of covertly taking pictures and plastering them on his walls like a stalker, but he reasoned that photos she consented to were fair game. Plus that was more Tim's thing, Jason liked shooting his shot up front or atleast that’s what he told himself. He casually grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it on his lap so she wouldn't have to see his raging boner.

"Now how about we fire up the console. Video games you said?" Jason suggested holding the dvd in his hand that Y/N had completely forgotten about. She eagerly grabbed the controllers and settled onto the couch, anticipation sparking in her eyes as the previous tension eased. Jason stared at the game dvd and couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. "Do you play video games often ?" Y/N asked him with a smile. "Only when I'm with the boys at the batcave or with Ro – ahem I meant Arsenal. Starfire is temporarily banned because she's burnt too many controllers out of excitement." She laughed at his words, almost imagining the scene.

"Well I'm sure you dominate in physical fights. Let's see how you hold out in a virtual one. I hope you're ready." Y/N challenged, a competitive gleam in her eyes.

"Bring it on angel." Jason replied, his fingers already poised over the buttons. Before they knew, they were completely immersed in the game, their laughter and exchanging banter and competitive jabs filling the room. Whether they were working together to overcome a tough level or engaging in heated competition, their bond only grew stronger with each passing minute.

"Oh come on ! You've won like the fourth time in a row. This thing has to be rigged !" Jason accusingly jabbed his controller at the screen in frustration, eliciting laughter from Y/N at how worked up he got over something insignificant like a video game.

"'ll let you in on a little secret. I'm a bit of a pro. Back in college, gaming was like my side hustle," she whispered with a mischievous grin, leaning in closer. Jason's interest piqued at her revelation. He couldn't deny his curiosity about how she had been these past few years. Despite his thorough investigations, he knew that no amount of research could uncover the personal intricacies of her college life - the moments of joy that lit up her face, the frustrations that weighed heavy on her shoulders, the solitary hours spent, the struggles she endured, and the victories she celebrated. It was a side of her story that remained untold, a mystery he was eager to unravel.

"In college, I used to dress up real cute and go to frat parties and challenge guys to play with me and if they lost they'd have to pay me." Y/N continued. It sounded like a perfect plan on paper. Deceptive disguise, psychologically analysing targets and exploiting their weaknesses against them, strategic thinking and meticulosity. But her explanation wasn't enough to satiate his curiosity. "And what if they won?" The most important part of any good plan was enticing bait. A part of him knew the answer but still wanted confirmation. "Something no college frat boy would reject. I said I'd blow their dick." Y/N grinned causing Jason to visibly freeze in disbelief. "I know how it sounds, but don’t worry l've never lost. Ever," she assured him quickly. After a pause, Jason's voice wavered at the start of the sentence as he spoke up, "How much did they have to pay you if you won?" Y/ N furrowed her eyebrows slightly, trying to recall the details from the past events. Amidst the long hours of studying in med school and her meager earnings from a part-time job, she had resorted to more crafty ways of earning money and gaming happened to be the most lucrative option to make more in less time.

"Well, most college students couldn't afford to pay much, so it was ten dollars per game," she explained. Jason nodded, retrieving his wallet. "You beat me four times, right ?" With determination, he placed four hundred-dollar bills on the coffee table before her, his next words filled with unwavering resolve,"Play your game with me angel.” Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of the money on the table, and she took in a deep breath, contemplating his offer for a moment. What could she possibly have to lose?

“It's okay Red. You tried.” After two more rounds of competition, Jason suffered a devastating loss before finally realizing why he felt a sense of déjà vu— it was the same video game he, Duke, Dick, and Tim had played a couple of months ago. He vividly remembered losing his temper, nearly throwing hands when Tim used underhanded tactics against him and Dick violated every rule of sportsmanship and sacrificing every last modicum of decency over the game and Damian scoffing at their "immaturity" like he always did while Duke tried his best to pacify the conflict. The reason he didn't recognise this before was because him and Y/N were playing in a different mode than this. "How about we switch up the mode?"

"Sure let's do it."Y/N grinned confidently. The two sat side by side, eyes fixed on the glowing neon screens in front of them. Their fingers danced across the controllers, every move was calculated, every strategy meticulously planned as they vied for dominance. The room was filled with the sound of intense concentration and occasional bursts of laughter or frustration. The tension in the room was palpable, as neither of them were willing to concede an inch in this high-stakes competition. With every round, the stakes rose, and the intensity only grows as they pushed each other to their limits in pursuit of victory.

"You have got to be kidding me." Y/N breathed out as the letters "GAME OVER" As the defeat screen flashed before her eyes, she recoiled in shock, her mouth agape in disbelief. Her eyes widened in astonishment, unable to comprehend how her skill that she believed to be unparalleled had fallen short. Her hands, which had been gripping the controller tightly, now hung limply by her sides, fingers trembling with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. Jason's heart raced with exhilaration, his body shaking with the rush of victory. With a triumphant shout, he leaped from his seat, pumping his fists in the air as a grin stretched across his face. "NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT !! LET'S FUCKING GO !!!”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat as she comprehended the implication of her loss. Her cheeks flushed with a faint blush of embarrassment and she averted her gaze while fidgeting nervously in her seat. Her tongue ran over her lips as she avoided meeting Jason's eyes. He noticed this and remembered what the winning condition was. He straightened up and cleared his throat, regaining his composure," You know it was just a silly game, you don't have to do that. I won't force you into doing anything you're not comfortable with." Y/N managed a small relieved smile," Thank you. But you know a bet is a bet. So how about a kiss instead ? Wait you’re over 18, right ?"

"A kiss ? Oh cool. Yeah we could do that and to answer your question I’m legal. I’d show you my ID but that kinda defeats the whole purpose of the secret identity thing." Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Despite how he composed on the outside, he could almost hear his 10 year old self rejoicing at the prospect of finally being able to kiss his first love. Ever since the warehouse incident, he had buried that naive part of himself, believing it to be dead along with other redeeming qualities, at least according to those around him.

He knew he wandered down dark paths, driven by desires of revenge, bitterness and reckless impulses. But when he looked into her eyes, deep within him, he felt that there was a flicker of hope, a belief that redemption is possible. He knew he wasn't deserving of someone so sweet and pure, but perhaps just this once, he would allow himself this one indulgence.

"So should I like bring out the scarf ?" Y/N asked. Her heart, which was felt unstable and claustrophobically confined inside of her, hammering against her ribcage as if it sought to burst out and soar away. "Don't bother." Jason interjected, producing a small black box from his jacket pocket. "I've been meaning to give you this, but never found the right moment." Y/N opened the box and found a silk blindfold which was black on one side and red on the other, the same shade of red as his helmet. As her fingertips glided over its surface, it felt like touching liquid satin. There's a distinct sensation of coolness and silkiness that enveloped her. It was like touching a cloud or being embraced by a gentle breeze. “What's this for ? Don't trust my scarf enough ?” Y/N joked. Jason shrugged his shoulders and answered casually,“Well yes and no. Your scarf is made of scratchy fabric and you have sensitive skin so I thought —”

“How do you know I have sensitive skin ?” She couldn’t recall sharing that detail, finding it peculiar that he knew. Jason bit his tongue, regretting his slip-up. It was one of those things he remembered about her from years ago. When they were younger, she would often complaint how her work uniform was really scratchy and how she hated it against her sensitive skin and he would always say that when he grew up he would buy her the nicest and softest of clothes. But of course given their current circumstance, he couldn’t tell her that.

Jason pointed to the bottle of lotion sitting on the dinner table. “That. It says for dry and sensitive skin.” Y/N turned in the direction he pointed her astonishment rendering her momentarily speechless, her mouth agape, unable to comprehend how he pieced together such intricate details. Her eyes widened with admiration, reflecting a mixture of awe and reverence for his uncanny ability to observe so keenly, she commented,“ You know everything about you is such a suspension of disbelief kinda thing. Like I’m sure you could tell me the craziest things and I’d go ‘yeah sure that makes sense’. ”Jason chuckled awkwardly, relieved that he had quickly found an explanation for his slip-up and diverted her suspicion,“Well you know being around batman, the detective shit rubs off.”

Y/N raised the blindfold to her eye level and with deliberate movements, she tied it securely around her head, feeling the darkness engulfing her vision. The fabric is incredibly fine, almost weightless against her skin. The smoothness of silk glides effortlessly against the skin, created a feeling of luxury and indulgence effectively making the moment much more sensuous than it was supposed be. With the blindfold tied securely around her eyes, a hush fell over her surroundings, amplifying the sound of her own heartbeat.

A sense of anticipation filled her, as if the world had suddenly become a mystery waiting to be explored solely through touch, sound, and intuition. She couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through her veins, feeling herself surrendering to the unknown, willingly relinquishing the sense of sight for a deeper, more visceral experience. As darkness enveloped her, her other senses heightened, attuned to the subtlest of changes in the environment. Y/N let out a soft gasp when she heard his helmet being set down on the table with a quiet thud.

“You know we don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you want to back out. I —” Jason began tentatively, carefully watching her for any signs of discomfort. She reassured him calmly, “It’s okay. I’m okay.” He slowly cupped her face and leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath on her face. Jason’s lips brushed against hers, uncertain and almost fearful. “Y/N I—” he stilled against her, waiting for her reaction. He knew this was one bridge that once burnt would either leave him at the edge of the abyss or paradise and needless to say, he couldn’t blow this. “Just shut up and kiss me Red. You earned it.”

“Yes ma’am,”Jason let out a breath of disbelief. The world around him seemed to melt away and all that existed was her and the euphoric feeling of her warm and pliant mouth on his. The beast inside him thrashed against the iron bars of his cage of self control, its roars echoing within him — wanting nothing but to sink his teeth into Y/N’s supple and inviting flesh and ravage her. His fingers cupping her face twitched with the need to touch more of her. Before he knew, his hands slid up of its own accord and tangled themselves in the soft locks of her hair.

Jason spent a lifetime honing his self control. Batman had drilled its importance into his system but as of now could feel every last ounce of self control he possessed slip through his fingers like sand. But he forced himself to focus. A part of him felt guilty for feeling the way he felt about her, his need for her — it was desperate, perverse, wrong even because Jason knew that if she realised that who he was she might never look at him the same way again but he couldn’t get himself to let go of something so damnably intoxicating. Y/N was the first one to pull away, her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as if trying to catch up with her sprinting heart. She could feel him grin against her lips.

“Good game Red.”

“Does anyone else feel like she's finally lost it, or is it just me ?”

"I can hear you, Stephanie," Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes. In retaliation, the blonde high schooler blew a raspberry at her co-worker, causing Y/N to shake her head in resignation. "That's why I said it. Babs back me up," Stephanie retorted.

“Please. We have enough crazies in Gotham as it is, there’s no need for any more.” Barbara Gordon was another one of Y/N best friends along with Cass Cain and was the daughter of the GCPD commissioner and the girlfriend of Dick Grayson. She was a couple years older than Y/N and most of all, the mom friend and pacifist of the group.

"But you know you have been acting strange. You've been touching your lips every five minutes and zoning out like right now —" Cass trailed off, sipping coffee from cup. Not realizing that she was doing that right now, Y/N jerked her hand off as if caught while stealing. The second the words left Cass's mouth, a realization dawned on the trio simultaneously, as if a light bulb had illuminated above their heads.

"What ?" Y/N muttered feeling oddly cornered. Trying her hardest to ignore the elephant in the room, she went back to working. The three friends exchanged glances, silently debating who would broach the subject with Y/N. Eventually, Barbara rolled her eyes and took charge, as neither of the younger girls seemed willing. "Y/N, I'd like to order," Barbara declared, wheeling her wheelchair closer to the counter. Y/N shifted her attention to her, nodding as she grabbed a pen and notepad, ready to take Barbara's order with practiced efficiency.

"I'd like to order tea," Barbara stated.

"Sure. So, would that be Earl Grey?" Y/N asked with a knowing smile.

"Nope."

"Assamese?"

"Not that either."

"Darjeeling ? Jasmine ? Matcha ?" Y/N proposed, offering a variety of tea options in an attempt to pinpoint Barbara's preference, her brows furrowing in confusion as to why she wasn't ordering her usual. “Then ?” She tilted her head in questioning but Barbara just smiled back and winked playfully,“You know, tea, piping hot if you know what I mean.”

“Uggh fine you win. So there's this guy,” The h/c haired woman started slowly and the three women groaned in unison. This was a common yet much disliked drill. The atmosphere shifted and a heavy silence settles over the group. Cass's eyes widened, a look worry flashing across her face. She exchanged a quick glance with Steph, who mirrored her expression. Barbara, ever the voice of reason, remained composed but her concern was evident in the slight furrow of her brow,“ We’ve talked about this.”

Y/N, the one who had made the revelation, shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gazes of her companions. She could feel the weight of their judgment bearing down on her, and it made her regret ever bringing up the topic. “Okay just hear me out —”

There was a moment of hesitation, as if each of them was struggling with how to respond to this. Finally, it was Steph who broke the silence, her voice edged with frustration.

“No there will be no ‘hear me out’s. Look Y/N Imma be honest with you. You’re legit nicer than 99.99% gothamites and in all honesty the only thing I hate about you is your fucking taste in men. Every seven months you come with hear me out on men who are leather wearing alcoholics and are always gaslighting, lying, cheating, abusive bastards or just straight up criminals !” She whispered in a tone passionately incredulous, drawing attention from other cafe patrons. Cass remained silent, but her expression spoke volumes. It was clear that she shared Steph's apprehension about their friend's poor taste in men.

Barbara chose her words carefully. “She’s right, you do have a bit of a problem. We just don’t want you getting hurt over guys like that or worse them hurting you and I don’t mean just emotionally.” she spoke gently, her tone laced with genuine concern.

“It’s not even that bad —” Y/N started. “Well you did date a two bit drug dealer.” Cass muttered quietly. “How was I supposed to know that ? It’s not like he offered me to do cocaine on the first date plus Orphan did save me in the nick of time so no harm done.” Y/N huffed in defense.

“Why don’t you try dating someone who’s actually nice for a change?”

“Sure, like who?” Y/N chuckled sarcastically.

“Maybe someone who’s like Dick?” Steph suggested. Dick Grayson was the epitome of the popular charismatic jock kid at school. It wasn’t hard to understand why he was so liked — with his sanguine personality, witty puns, kind hearted and generous personality he was pretty much the shining paragon of an upstanding citizen and your boy next door. Unfortunately, such traits rarely aligned with Y/N tastes. “I mean he’s very attractive of course but he’s just not my type you know. He’s too —”

“Nice ?” Barbara guessed.

“Yeah, that. But if he has a brother then well—” Y/N trailed off, half-jokingly.

“No!” The three exclaimed in unison, catching her off guard. Their eyes widened as if she said something really offensive.

“Whoa what was that about ?” Y/N asked. The three exchanged glances, and Barbara cleared her throat before speaking up. “Well, Dick does have brothers. Two of them are minors, so that’s an immediate no, and the third one— he’s not a bad guy per se. He would never hurt a woman, especially someone as sweet as you, but—”

“But?” Y/N raised an eyebrow and shook her head, urging her friend to continue.

“He’s got issues. Like a boatload of them,” she finished, carefully articulating each word.

“What sort of issue ? Daddy issues ? Mommy Issues ? Parental Issues ? Parental Issues - Orphan Edition ? Step parent issues ? I’ve dealt with them all before you know.”

“More like all, in that order.” Cass muttered.

“Wow this guy sounds like a party. You should introduce me to him sometime. Him and I would definitely hit it off.” Y/N joked.

“Please don’t come up with any more of those ‘I can fix him’s. You’re a barista not Handy Manny.”

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, attempting to brush off their concerns. “You know what I usually mean by I can fix him is that I can made him tolerable till I get bored of him and dump him. Sure, I’ve made mistakes but this one is different,”she insisted.

“Different how ?” Barbara raised her brow skeptically.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she regaled her friends about the events of the video game bet, conveniently leaving out the details of Red being a vigilante and that prank incident — they didn’t need to know that. Her friends leaned in, somewhat captivated by her animated storytelling. Gasps of disbelief and amazement erupted from her friends. Their curiosity evident as they leaned in, eager to soak in every detail of the story.

The tension in the air had eased as the group exchanged glances, each grappling with their own thoughts and feelings about the situation. It was clear that this revelation had thrown them all for a loop, leaving them unsure of how to proceed. But one thing was certain – they would stand by their friend, even if they didn't particularly agree with her choices.

“You know only I was of legal age, I’d wife you up so fast it’d set world records. That ways we wouldn’t have to deal with this.” Steph lamented, earning a smack from Y/N. Despite her sassy quips and teasing, Stephanie Brown was never shy to be vocal about her affections for her favourite barista. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not into kids. Also aren’t you dating Tim ?” Y/N asked.

“Well yeah. But he’s not like my boyfriend boyfriend. He’s like my pet ferret than my boyfriend.”

“I was so sure I got promoted to pet guinea pig last Monday.” A voice piped up from Y/N’s side. She let out a small scream, her body tensing up in pure terror. Her heart raced as she spun around, eyes wide with fear, her hands poised to defend herself, only to find Tim Drake with an expression of mock offence on his face and Dick next to him with his head propped on top of his fist, listening intently with a smile on his face.

“How long have you been standing here ?” She exclaimed, putting her hand on her hip, her voice a mixture of surprise and reproach. Dick’s mischievous grin faltered slightly as she held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Oh don’t mind me," he said, trying to suppress a giggle. "I’m just here for the girl talk."

“Dick I’ve said this before and I’ll say this again. You aren’t allowed when we’re having the girl talk.” Y/N jabbed her finger in warning at him, her tone tainted with a hint of genuine irritation.

“What ? Why ? Ever since I first watched Mean Girls I’ve always dreamed of being a part of a girl clique. You can’t do this to me.” Wearing a mock expression of sadness and offence, he pouted like a five year old child, crossing his arms.

“Well you can’t sit with us detective.”

“Why not ?”

“Well because this is a girl clique. Duh.” Steph sassed back. Dick raised his eyebrows, feigning disbelief,“Discrimination, plain and simple. I demand equal rights for guy friends in girl cliques !”

Y/N rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. "Nice try but no. You're always welcome for skin care and movie nights. But girl talk is strictly off-limits. And no don’t look at Babs, she can’t and won’t help you."

Dick’s shoulders slumped dramatically, admitting defeat. "I guess it's just one of life's cruel ironies. But hey, I can still be an honorary member, right ?" He gave her a hopeful grin, knowing fully well that his charm wouldn't be enough to sway her strict rules.

“Just give up man. Winning isn’t in the cards for you. Now, scram. Y/N should please continue.” Tim shooed Dick as if he were a stray dog. “Tim you too.” Cass deadpanned.

“Why ? I’m not like him ! Pretty sure you girls can make exceptions for bi guinea pigs.” He retorted.

“Ferret,” Steph corrected,“ You ate my turkey sandwich last Tuesday so you got demoted to ferret.”

“Only if you’re ready to forfeit your right to a free coffee refills after five paid cups a day.” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. Tim’s expression twisted into sheer horror, as if she had threatened his very existence. Given his caffeine addiction, it might as well have been a threat on his life.

Tim cleared his throat and began with a disapproving look, "Ahem. Richard, isn't it utterly disgraceful for esteemed gentlemen like us to eavesdrop on ladies like that? Shame on you. What would Alfred and Bruce say ?"

“Who are Alfred and Bruce?” Y/N inquired. Tim immediately regretted his words, closing his eyes briefly. “Oh, just seniors at work,” Dick hastily replied with an awkward laugh. “You two should probably head out,” Barbara interjected with a pointed look. Tim and Dick hurriedly departed without any sign of resistance. As Y/N turned, she noticed Cass had vanished, and Steph had returned to her tasks, leaving her to process the recent events alone. Huh. Weird.

As Y/N’s weary hand reached for the brass doorknob of her house, she felt the exhaustion of the day to loosen its grip on her, replaced by a sense of relief. The metal of the doorknob offered a stark contrast between its own cold surface and the warmth of home she longed for beyond the threshold. With a familiar click, the door swung open and she hung her bag and scarf on the hat stand. The second she stepped through the threshold, a pleasant aroma of spices and the sound of someone humming to a song floated through the air. The scent was homely and comforting. Wait. I live alone then who’s cooking in the kitchen ? Puzzled and scared, she dropped her keys on the table and cautiously made her way towards the kitchen. With every step, the sound of sizzling and the clinking of utensils grew louder. Tiptoeing to the edge of the kitchen wall, she peered around the corner.

“Red ?” Her eyes widened as she stared at the most unlikely scene she could’ve ever imagined in her life. The vigilante Red Hood — Prince of Gotham, Scourge of the Underworld, the Wraith of Gotham, the Renegade Knight — stood in Y/N’s normal sized apron that looked comically small on him, stirring pasta sauce while listening to Taylor Swift. She stood frozen, unable to process the sheer absurdity of the scene in front of her.

“You’re back !” She could almost see him grinning from behind his signature mask. She blinked several times, thinking all of this was some sort of wishful thinking induced daydream. But the smell of simmering marinara and the faint sound of Taylor Swift's voice confirmed otherwise, effectively shattering any semblance of normalcy in the room leaving her to wonder how could this larger-than-life figure, feared by criminals and revered by the city, be standing in her humble kitchen cooking pasta ?

Yet, there he was, a paradoxical blend of hero and something so curiously domestic. As she watched him, a mix of amusement and curiosity washed over her. “What’s going on here ?” Y/N asked, gesturing to the kitchen in general. “Oh this ? Um it sort of happened,” Jason replied casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world for a vigilante to be whipping up a meal in someone else's kitchen.

“It just happened ?” Y/N repeated dumbfounded. She leaned against the kitchen counter, still trying to process the scene before her. Looking around, she noticed the counter cluttered with groceries she didn’t recall purchasing. Opening the fridge, she saw that her once-empty fridge was stocked with gourmet items she had only seen on upscale cooking shows. “Well I came to see you but you hadn’t returned from work. I got up to get a glass of water from the fridge and saw that there wasn’t anything in it so I —”he began, attempting to explain the situation.

“So you bought me groceries ? And the pasta ? That also just happened ?” she asked, her interest piqued. "Um yeah. It did," he admitted sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “It was on a whim don’t think too much of it.” Jason glanced at her, hoping she would find his gesture too strange. His eyes flitted to the clock on the wall before landing back at her,"I figured that it’s already dark outside so it’s not safe to go get stuff. Plus, I make a mean pasta," he quipped, flashing a hint of pride in his voice.

She couldn't argue with that. As she watched him continue to cook, a sense of gratitude washed over her. Despite the reputation he amassed, he was here, in her home, bringing solace that no one had in a very long time. Her world felt harmonious, as if every piece fell into place effortlessly. In that moment, Red Hood wasn't just a feared vigilante—he was a friend, albeit an unusual one, who had somehow found his way into her life and her kitchen and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“By the way,” Jason began, wiping his hands on the apron and shifting his tone to seriousness as he turned towards her, “I wanted to ask you something. Where did you get that?” He gestured towards the felt clipboard hanging on the opposite wall. Y/N followed his gaze, seeing the map of Gotham he had given her along with the necklace the week they met. It had really helped her avoid dangerous parts of the town after dark. But why was he asking about it when he was the one who gave it to her? “What do you mean? You’re the one who gave me the map,” she said, tilting her head in confusion.

“Not the map. The batarang. I don’t recall leaving any of those here,” he clarified. Y/N’s eyes fell on the sleek metal batarang pinning the map to the clipboard. Her mouth rounded in an ‘o’ when she pieced it together. “The batarang ? Red Robin gave it to me.” she exclaimed. Her words clearly struck a nerve because Jason felt completely silent following her words. “It’s a funny story actually. You know I work at a café. This one night I was closing up and Red Robin came in asking for a coffee refill. I had almost closed up the shop but the poor thing looked like he had been through hell so I refilled his coffee. He tried to pay but he couldn’t find his wallet so he paid with a batarang.” She quickly added, hoping to diffuse any building tension.

Jason wordlessly walked to the clipboard and effortlessly retrieving the batarang before swapping it with his own from his pocket. “Better.” He muttered with satisfaction, addressing no one in particular. “Hey give that back !” Y/N tried to take it from his hand but he held it above her head where she couldn’t reach it. “What do you even need it for ?” He asked sounding somewhat annoyed. “It was an experience souvenir, you can’t take that !” She tried to reason despite knowing there was no point. “Well I’m sure Red Hood cooking dinner was you is beats refilling coffee for some drenched beaten up rat any day.”

Y/N’s eyes fell on the Red Hood’s batarang that was now pining the Map of Gotham to the clipboard instead of Red Robin’s batarang. It was similar in shape and size, resembling a bat's silhouette with pointed wings extending from a central handle. Except his batarang sported his signature red hue with black-rimmed edges. On closer inspection, Y/N noticed it had the words “Property Of Red Hood” scrawled on it in near illegible handwriting with a permanent marker.

“It’s already in your colours. What’s the point of writing your name on it ?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Because there are little shits that like to take my stuff without asking. So it’s a reminder that if they do, I will find them and after than no one else ever will.” He replied vaguely.

“Thugs ?”

“Worse. Siblings.”

“That sounds… tough,” Y/N remarked. She could only imagine what it would be like dealing with having vigilante siblings and the unique dynamics they have with each other. “You have no idea,” Jason replied in a wry tone. “But y’know ohana and all. Can’t get rid of them even if I wanted to.”

“Then what do you hold against the poor kid ?”

“Look it’s not that. Everyone thinks I hate him but I don’t,” Jason countered, pausing before continuing, “Okay maybe a teeny tiny bit but that’s beside the point. It’s just… it’s just I just hate him with you —”Jason caught himself before ending up saying anything that would just come to bite him in the ass. Y/N’s eyes widened a fraction in realization before smiling. “Are you jealous ?”

“What ? No !” He swiftly shook his head, dismissing the suggestion despite the faint blush creeping up his neck,“ I’m not jealous. He’s just trouble and I don’t want him being near my —”He attempted to maintain his composure, but his defensive tone betrayed a hint of insecurity. Y/N titled her head, studying his body language carefully and asked,“Your what ?”

“My – my person.” Jason finished softly, his gaze dropping to the floor, uncertain about his choice of words. His heart racing as he struggled to find the right words to convey his feelings not wanting giving too much away nor did he want to invite misunderstandings by using the term ‘friend.’

Y/N let out a small chuckle,“ What ? So just because I work for you means I can’t interact with any of your sibling ?”

Jason raised his head in alarm,“ That’s not what I meant !” He clarified hurriedly. Oh ?

“Then what did you mean ? Hmm ?” Y/N inched closer to him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. It had been exactly five days since he had kissed her, kissed her with insatiable hunger as if he intended to swallow her whole. Glancing down, she noticed his hand clenched around the material of his pants so tightly she feared he might tear a hole into them. Slowly, she trailed her hand up his arm, offering her sweetest smile. She felt his muscles tense under her touch, as though he was fighting - resisting. Y/N knew that teasing him might as well be biting off more than she could chew but Y/N 'life is all about taking risks and new experiences' L/N was willing to bet on her luck.

“The pasta is getting cold. You should —,”Jason's throat tightened as Y/N’s hand reached his shoulder, he couldn’t help but shiver slightly — his resolve wavering under her touch. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure, but her closeness was making it increasingly difficult to think straight. He watched as she looked right at him and then lowered her gaze to the part of his mask where his lips would be for a split second and then flit back to his eyes with a teasing mirth dancing in her eyes. Fuck. This woman is driving me crazy.

“— e-eat it before it gets cold,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. As a part of training, Bruce had taught all the Robins the psychology of seduction so that they could identify it and evade it and as of now, every fibre of his being screamed warnings. Her actions were daring, albeit innocent. But they weren't even half as blatant or polished as the seasoned honeytrappers and seductresses he had encountered, but they still stirred something so primal deep within him, tempting him to abandon caution. The part of his arm her fingertips grazed felt like it was on fire. No scratch that he had experienced what it was to have his skin on fire. This was exponentially worse.

Ever since Y/N re-entered his life, Jason Peter Todd was experiencing what one would call selective erectile dysfunction. Consumed by thoughts of Y/N, he found it impossible to concentrate on anything else. So a few weeks back, he sought to blow off some steam and divert his mind from the thoughts of Y/N overwhelming his system. Jason considered himself fairly easy to satisfy since all his encounters had been transactional, outlets for physical release and nothing more.

However much to his bafflement, his dick refused to react to anything for the past few days and embarrassingly so. There were plenty of flavours to choose from at the iceberg lounge but instead Jason jr. decided to give on the silent treatment instead. It was being a dick, literally. After the whole Lazarus pit shebang, whatever toxic shit he got tossed into as a part of some supervillain’s dastardly schemes, prescription meds he got talked into taking for quote unquote “mental health” — He was no stranger to bodily side effects but this was completely different.

This whole thing reached its height when Jason jr. refused to entertain the advances of a perfectly attractive busty blonde despite the fact that it was dying from sexual frustration and Jason was so ready to get over it. Under normal circumstances, it would be up and ready for action however it decided to stay completely and utterly indifferent — bored even. Effectively forcing Jason into non-consensual celibacy.

The only time it did react in his time at the iceberg lounge was when a model who had conspicuously similar hair colour and face shape to Y/N approached him with flirtation in her eyes. Jason jr. almost got hard, key word almost, when it made the important distinction that she was not Y/N and absolutely didn’t want her lips wandering anywhere his frustrating self. And by selective, he meant that Jason jr. developed a will of his own and turned into one of those overly enthusiastic parents cheering for their kids at school plays, not that Jason had experienced it personally, but that’s besides the point. The point being it would tent up and twitch uncontrollably begging for attention the second he sensed Y/N L/N’s presence in a mile’s distance. At the peak of his condition, Jason couldn’t so much as glance at a surface without his brain conjuring obscene images of how she would look pressed down against it, writhing and moaning his name.

As an avid reader, Jason was something of a hopeless romantic man and he knew that a couple’s first time was an important milestone in their relationship and could most definitely not be done on a whim. He had it all planned out, scented candles, silk sheets and all. It had to be special — touching, sweet, loving and most definitely not some lust-fueled spur of the moment thing his dick was pushing for right now. So there wasn’t much he could do, except sit in abject misery and hope to weather through the storm.

Okay, Jason. You survived being blown up by the joker. This is just another challenge. Focus on something else. Jason motivated himself with his voice of reason sounding suspiciously a lot like Nightwing and took a deep breath.

His eyes wandered till they found their way back to Y/N. She was wearing one of her typical sundresses with pastel floral patterns adorning it with a navy blue cardigan draped around her shoulders and the golden necklace resting on her neck. Her hair was fashioned into a high ponytail with loose strands framing her face.

Based on what he had observed she seemed to have a penchant for sundresses, which Jason believed complemented her overall personality quite well. He often found himself mesmerized by the way the sundresses accentuated Y/N's features, the dress hugging her curves perfectly and the fabric flowing gracefully with each movement. She almost looked like she had walked out of a cottage fairy tail. I bet I could shred it like tissue paper. Wait what ? Where did that come from ? Okay let’s try again. He turned his focus back to her. Most of her makeup had worn off from the day’s work, except for the eyeliner and the faintly sparkling light pink lip gloss on her lips, which seemed to have been touched up a few times. I wonder what she would look like on her knees, with her lips wrapped around my cock and that pretty mascara running down her cheeks.

Jason shot a glare at his pants. "Can you please shut up for just two goddamn seconds ? I'm trying to be respectful here," he muttered under his breath, hoping for a moment of peace. At this rate he contemplated the need for an exorcist to exorcise these insistent demons out of his system. He glanced up to find Y/N watching him. "Did you say something?" she asked but he simply shook his head in denial. Though she appeared skeptical, she chose not to press further. Moving to the cabinet, she requested, “Could you please grab the glasses? They’re in the third cabinet on the left,” while she fetched plates for serving and set them on the table. Jason obliged, retrieving the glasses, and as he placed them on the table, his hand inadvertently brushed against hers. Y/N glanced at him and flashed a gentle smile.

He could swear he felt his dick twitch. What are you some sort of pitiful depraved virgin ? Get your shit together. This is downright embarrassing. He scoffed at himself. Amid his current inner turmoil, he had become hyper aware of Y/N’s every micro movement from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear to adjusting her ponytail or stooping to retrieve a fallen fork. Jason’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her bend down causing hemline of her dress to lift up, revealing a scene that would surely haunt him on his nights alone. No no no dont even- think of the lord Jason. What would Alfred say ?

Our Father who arth in heaven,

Hallowed be thy Name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven.

“Mmmh this is so good !” Y/N moaned in delight as she took the first bite, her eyes widen in amazement, savoring the flavour dancing on their taste buds. Jason felt his throat dry up. Oh of course, she just had to make that sound. The universe was really against him today, more so than usual. With two dicks talking to him, he just had to figure out which one to listen to.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our — wait how did that go again ?

Despite Jason's best efforts to maintain composure, Y/N's every movement seemed to unravel his resolve further. As she savored each bite, he couldn't help but be captivated by the way her lips formed around the fork, her eyes alight with pleasure. With each passing moment, his internal struggle intensified, torn between the desire to avert his gaze and this magnetic force of a woman. Her presence seemed to envelop him, every sound she made echoing in his mind, her every gesture etched into his memory. How could he resist the temptation when she was right there, so effortlessly bewitching ?

Y/N placed her hand on his and he pulled away instinctively, the smile on her face faltered but she didn’t say anything. Jason made a mental note to bash his head into a wall hard later for hurting her feelings but as of now he was in no position of making any sort physical contact with her. “Won’t you be eating ?” she asked, attempting to diffuse the tension. “I don’t eat before patrol,” he replied, his response came out colder than he had intended it to be. “It’s best to patrol on an empty stomach because it’s not exactly pleasant.”

“Oh.” Her brows furrowed slightly at his icy response, but she nodded, accepting his explanation. His words hung in the air, thick with an unspoken tension. Y/N bit her lip, her gaze flickering between him and the plate of pasta. Feeling a pang of guilt, he tried to ease the atmosphere, though his attempt felt feeble. "But maybe I'll grab something later," he added, a touch of forced warmth in his tone.

“This is really good, you know. You should tell me the recipe sometime,” she suggested. "Nah, I can whip it up for you whenever you want," he replied nonchalantly. Y/N blinked in surprise. "No, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," he insisted, pointing at her necklace. It had been over two months since she started wearing it, and thankfully, she hadn't needed to use its emergency SOS feature. Her thumb traced the disk-shaped pendant of the necklace. “Whatcha smiling about ?” Jason asked. “No nothing,”she replied, shaking her head. Not believing her, Jason tilted his head and urged her to continue. “Fine. So, in this K-drama I watched a while back, the female lead had a powerful mythical creature protecting her like sort of a guardian angel, and she could summon him whenever she lit a match. It just reminded me of that.”

“What creature ?” He asked with intrigue. Jason had always been more inclined to reading rather than watching in nature so he didn’t really have much experience with k-dramas but seeing how interested she was, he was more than willing to give it a go.

“A goblin.”she answered taking another bite of the pasta. “I’m not sure how I ought to take that —” Y/N’s eyes widened in realisation because she knew that goblins in western media were depicted as short ugly green monsters with horrible attitudes. “Oh no no ! Not like the DND ones. Korean ones ! He was really hot,” she clarified frantically. Jason chuckled,“Well then I guess I’ll humbly accept the compliment.”

"Maybe we could watch the show together next time we hang out you know," she suggested shyly, not wanting to appear too upfront with her invitation. A small smile played onto Jason’s lips, every single romance novel he had ever read had prepared him for this moment. He had often wondered what it would feel like to experience such a situation. Sure, they had watched random shows like ‘The real housewives of Beverly Hills’ and ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ before, but this invitation felt different, more deliberate. She specifically asked for this. This wasn’t just ‘got nothing to do so let’s just turn on the tv’ kinda hangout, this was special. Jason's heart skipped a beat as he considered her invitation. The subtle nervousness in her voice only added to the charm of the moment. It was as if the universe had conspired to create this perfect opportunity for them to connect on a deeper level.

"Yeah, that sounds great," he replied, his voice betraying a touch of eagerness despite his attempt to appear casual. Deep down, he knew that this was a significant step in their relationship. “But it’ll have to wait. I’m leaving Gotham,” he added with a sad sigh, remembering the reason he had come to see her in the first place.

“What? Why?” His sudden announcement caught Y/N off guard. Did something bad happen ? “Sorry angel, it’s confidential,” he replied briskly. It was in her best interest to keep her as uninvolved in his world as possible, knowing the risks involved in pursuing a relationship with a civilian.

As they sat in uneasy silence, Jason couldn't shake the weight of his own discomfort. He knew he had been too harsh with his response, but the walls he had built around himself were hard to break down, even with someone as kind-hearted as Y/N. Despite his efforts to appear unaffected, he couldn't ignore the concern in her eyes.

Y/N’s mind raced with questions, but she could sense Jason’s reluctance to divulge further. She bit her lip, grappling with a mix of concern and frustration.

“Red did something happen ?” she implored, her voice tinged with worry. “Is it something dangerous? Are you in trouble?”

Jason met her gaze, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness. He hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in her and his commitment to keeping her safe. “It’s just a mission. I’m sorry I can’t tell you much,” he admitted, feeling a sense of regret. “But trust me, it’s better this way. I don’t want you getting mixed up in my business.” Of course it made sense. He didn’t owe her an explanation, knowing there were lines she shouldn’t cross was one of them. This was a world of vigilantes and villains and as a civilian she couldn’t possibly fathom the complexities of his profession.

Y/N reached out, gently placing her hand on his arm. “I understand,” she said, her voice soft but resolute.“You’ll be back right ?”

“Wouldn’t have given you that necklace if I wasn’t going around for my angel. It might take a couple months, maybe three or four. I don’t know. But I’ll be back.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly and continued,“ And still if you get into trouble, you can still use that necklace. I called in a favour from nightwing and orphan.”

“So what did you ask them to exactly ? They get an alert and they’re to drop everything they’re doing and come save me ?” Y/N asked jokingly.

“Well yeah. You get hurt while I’m gone and they’ll end up as fish food in the Gotham Harbour. Y’know they're like my insurance policy for you," he added. "But hopefully, you won't need to cash it in. Just stay safe and out of trouble until I get back."

Y/N nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. "I'll do my best. But you know all that aside, cooking a girl dinner and introducing her to your family, and here I thought we were taking it slow.” Jason paused, caught off guard by her comment. Was that how it appeared ? Her playful expression suggested she was merely teasing him, but what if she was genuinely reciprocating flirtation ?

“You’re a really cruel woman you know angel.”Y/N leaned forward on the table and folded her arms infront of her subconsciously pushing her breasts forward, a coy pout forming on her lips ,“Why do you say that ?” She was fully aware of her effect on him, wasn’t she ?

Jason chuckled softly, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of amusement and admiration,“No need to worry your pretty head with that.” With a quick flick of his finger, he lightly tapped her forehead, a playful retaliation for her teasing. She let out a surprised yelp, rubbing her forehead in mock indignation.

“I should get going before Starfire and Arsenal lose their shit thinking I’ve gone MIA. Again.” He said, rising to his feet and straightening his jacket. Y/N too got up and kept the dishes in the sink. Jason turned to leave from the fire exit but he felt Y/N hold his jacket. “Be careful out there Red.” She smiled softly at him and Jason could feel his heart melt into a puddle. “Can’t promise but I will try.” His words came out with softness he didn’t know he possessed, he squeezed her hand gently before reluctantly letting go. With one last lingering look, he turned and disappeared into the fire exit.

Outside, Jason took a deep breath, the cool night air soothing his nerves. He glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before slipping into the shadows. As he moved through the darkness, he couldn't help but replay their interaction in his mind. Her soft smile, the way she held onto his jacket, and the genuine concern in her voice lingered in his thoughts.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Jason focused on the task at hand. He moved swiftly through the alleyways, his senses alert for any signs of trouble. The city whispered its secrets to him, a constant reminder of the darkness that threatened to consume it. The weight of his responsibilities as Red Hood pressed upon him, reminding him of the dangers lurking in the shadows of Gotham City.

Yet, in that fleeting moment with Y/N, he felt a sense of peace that he hadn't known in a very long time.

A/n: Jason Todd live reaction

Ngl I was in a very silly goofy mood when I wrote this.

Tags : @thisisafish123 @ceramic-raven @millyhelp @blamedbisexual @trunkswithlonghair-blog @jasontoddthings @deans-spinster-witch @12134z03

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

Hurt Me*

Summary: The third part to Teach Me*

You and Harry have struck a deal. You'll help him explore some of his favorite kinks and in return, he'll practice each one on you.

A rather...bloody sweet deal, if you do say so yourself.

Word Count: 5.5k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you can handle!*

“So…should we start with pegging?”

You blink at him from the hallway. “I…I just walked through the door.”

He laughs, leaning back on his mattress, hands first. “Sorry. Thought we’d just jump right into it.”

“I can see that,” you snort as you walk further into his bedroom. “Did you get the stuff?”

His head jerks toward his nightstand where you find the aforementioned items you’d requested he gather.

And seeing the giant bottle of lube beside his bed is somehow both exhilarating…and startling.

You haven’t changed your mind about the agreement. You’d thought maybe you might, after the heated moment at the restaurant had passed.

But now, here you are, two days later. Still just as eager as you’d been the other night.

And you’re pleased to see that Harry apparently is, too.

He waits patiently for you to slip off your shoes and make your way for him, his eyes following each move you make.

You aren’t sure why you feel so…nervous. None of this is really all that new to you, but Harry has always had this talent for putting you on edge.

Even when he doesn’t mean to.

Like now.

“Okay,” you declare once you’ve reached him, and his eyebrow raises. “I have a list.”

The side of his mouth curls up. “A list?”

“A list,” you repeat with a determined nod. “A checklist. Of things we might wanna try.”

He chuckles as you reach into your back pocket to retrieve your small notepad. “Of course you have a fucking list.”

“Shush.” You flip it open and clear your throat. “All right. There’s edging, overstimulation, bondage, spanking, breath play, thigh riding, blood kinks—oh, and knife kinks. Also pegging, of course, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he interjects, smirking as he sits up. “I’m sorry…do you mean to tell me that you, the girl who cried when she got a papercut…have a knife kink?”

You give him a cool stare. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

His tongue swipes across his lip as he studies you. “Interesting.”

“…why?”

He shrugs, glancing around the bedroom to hide his amusement. “Nothing. Just…learning some things about you.”

Your eyes narrow. “Well, this isn’t about me, is it? This is about you and what you might like.”

He looks back, fingers tapping against the mattress in thought. “Well…I guess there’s only one way to find out, now, isn’t there?”

With a coy smile, you nod again. “I guess so.”

For a moment, you simply stare at each other. Him sitting below you on the bed and you standing in front of his legs, waiting.

You imagine it’s up to you to get the ball rolling, but despite your eager anticipation, you can’t help wondering what happens if this ruins your friendship with him.

That’s that last thing you could ever want. And sure, he seems more than willing to take this step with you.

But what if he regrets it?

What if he regrets you?

“Bee,” he murmurs, and you refocus your attention in time to see his large hands coming out to latch onto your hips and guide you between his parting thighs. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

He reaches up to tap his finger against the side of your temple. “Overthink.”

Your expression falls flat as you playfully roll your eyes and duck away from his hand. “I’m not, I’m just…planning.”

“Okay, then walk me through your plan,” he instructs. “Out loud. Tell me what you wanna do.”

You glance down at the notepad in your hand, running through each suggestion. “Uh…I don’t know. I’m not sure where to start. I don’t wanna just…jump into something heavy before you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” he insists, palms wrapping around the backs of your legs. “Whatever you wanna do, however you wanna do it. Promise.”

And you appreciate his eager anticipation, but you can’t rush something like this. Because you'd never forgive yourself for introducing him to something he wasn’t prepared to handle. Or for hurting him or scaring him.

You sigh as you look down at the hopeful glimmer in his eye. “We need to start slow, Har. Like I said. Okay, we’ll get there, we just…we need to ease into it.”

He smiles. “Then ease me. Start slow, start fast. I don’t fucking care, just start.”

And you can’t help but laugh as you toss the notebook aside to give him your full attention. “Fine. Let’s go over some rules.”

His response is to groan dramatically and flop down onto his back, lids squeezed shut.

“Come on,” you insist, reaching out to tug on his shirt and attempt to wrangle him back upright. “Harry—”

“You’re killing me, Bee,” he huffs as he lets you pull on him. “I don’t need rules, I just need you—”

“Shush,” you say for a second time once he’s straightened up, and his eyes roll. “Okay, first things first…we need an official safe word. A system, kind of. To make sure everything goes smoothly, and we feel okay.”

You can tell he wants to argue, but even he knows that this is important. So, he nods once. “Okay. You pick.”

You momentarily gnaw on the inside of your cheek. “Okay, how about…I don’t know. Watermelon? Lot of people pick a fruit, I don’t know why.”

His brow raises. “Fine. Watermelon. Can we start now?”

This time, you groan. “Harry, stop. This is serious. I need to make sure you’re gonna be okay.”

“I will be,” he mumbles, hands outstretching for your thighs once again, squeezing them as if to accentuate his point. “I will be if it’s with you. I promise, Bee. But you’re killing me here. Been thinking about this for two fucking days. M’bout to explode.”

“Really? The blue ball argument? That’s what you’re going with?” you tease as he smirks.

“No. Don’t have blue balls. Was fucking my fist the second I got home from the restaurant,” he tells you, and for some reason, the image makes your skin heat up. “It’s the idea of you that kills me. Can’t fucking stand it, so just…end my suffering. Please.”

You hesitate, teeth pulling on the flesh of your bottom lip. He’s too fucking good at this. “You have to promise that you’ll say watermelon whenever you need to stop or talk or slow down. Okay?”

His response is to lift a hand between your bodies and thrust his pinky toward you. “Promise.”

You wrap yours around his and squeeze. “Good…and I mean it, Har. The second you feel uncomfortable—”

“Yes, yes, I got it, I promise,” he interrupts, a slight edge to his tone.

Your expression falls flat but even you feel a little impatient. “Fine, well…tell me how you wanna start. Tell me what you wanna try. Or what you need me to explain.”

He turns to look toward the pad of paper now tossed askew across the floor. “You had thigh riding on there, right?”

You nod, heart beating a little faster.

He looks back. “…do you wanna ride my thigh, Bee?” he whispers, focus dropping to your throat when he notices you swallow.

Truthfully, you wanna do everything with him. There’s nothing on that list you’d shy away from, and just imagining his face alongside some of your darkest fantasies—

Your breath hitches.

“Is that a yes?” he asks, thumbs stroking across the skin of your legs as if to coax the answer out of you. “Come on. Know I need to hear you say it.”

And you appreciate this desire for verbal consent. It’s something you know you’ll need from him, too. But this…habit of his to make you all flustered is so infuriatingly…him that it drives you nuts.

“I wanna do…whatever you want me to do,” you tell him honestly, palms cupping his cheeks as you guide his head back. “Wanna do everything. All of it. You. Me. Us.”

And he smiles almost drunkenly at the callback, undone by your touch as your fingers slip through the curls atop his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You dip down, nose brushing his. “Just tell me what to do…and I’ll do it.”

You saw a glimpse of his need for control the other night. Even saw it that day in your bedroom.

Now? Now you’re putting that control in his hands, just to see if he knows what to do with it.

He might need a little help from time to time, but you have a feeling he’ll be able to handle having this sort of power over you.

And you can’t fucking wait.

The grip he has on your legs grows tighter as he whispers, “Ride my thigh.”

You smile, lips gently ghosting over his.

“Ride my fucking thigh, Bee,” he repeats, even more lasciviously than he had before. “Right now. Can’t wait another goddamn minute.”

Then, before you can even reply, he’s tugging on you until you both go toppling down onto the mattress.

You laugh but he doesn’t. He’s too far gone to think about anything else but you and what you’ve promised him.

You feel his palm slip around the back of your neck as he quickly guides your mouth to his.

And you can’t help the way your heart lurches at the taste of him. It’s only been two days yet somehow…you don’t think you’ve been able to breathe until right now. With his kiss.

The room echoes with pants and eager whines as you settle onto your knees, one on either side of his hips.

And you kind of like being on top of him like this, getting to look down and see him all laid out for you.

You’d both agreed to hold off on actually fucking each other until Harry felt more comfortable. He’d tried to argue he was already more than comfortable, but fucking your best friend crosses a completely different line.

And you aren’t sure you’re ready yet.

But this…you could do this forever. Kiss him, and touch him, and grind on him as he groans.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you squirm over his waist, desperate for a little friction.

And the sound he makes—pure, unadulterated desire—nearly has you coming right then and there.

“Okay,” you breathe, leaning back to see him. “Okay, I gotta…gotta take my shorts off—”

“Yes,” he nearly sighs, seemingly turned on by the very idea. “Yes, take them off. Please, for the love of God, take off your shorts.”

You smirk as you climb off his lap to undo the button, and as you do, he pushes up onto his elbows to watch.

And he watches. In that relentlessly focused way that almost makes you go shy. Soft, green eyes somehow sharp as they rake over every inch of your body. Watching your fingers pull the zipper down before the fabric drops to the floor and pools at your ankles.

Once yours are off, it’s time for his. He doesn’t ask for your help, instead quickly standing to rid himself of his own jeans until only his boxers are left.

He then crawls back toward the headboard, large hands motioning for you to follow as you take a deep breath and oblige.

He pats his left thigh, palm smacking against the tattooed tiger ink on his skin. “This one, right here. Come on.”

And you have to smile at the rather lewd idea.

Again, his attention never leaves you as you swing yourself back onto his lap, a knee on either side of his stretched leg.

Your underwear is still on, a choice made only out of hesitation on what he’d prefer. And you suppose you’re long past that, but you don’t want to assume.

He eyes the covering over your cunt as if mesmerized, and you go still a few inches above him, unsure whether or not to lower yourself just yet.

His hands levitate toward your waist, magnetized to your body. Then, he glances up. “Can I…fuck, wanna feel you, Bee.”

You nod quickly, lip between your teeth as he trails those nimble fingers across your skin and toward the band on your hips.

Then…they slip inside.

He’s felt you before. This isn’t new nor is it foreign.

But it’s everything.

A whimper rips from your throat the moment he glides through, a motion made exceedingly easier by the collection of arousal already waiting for him.

His jaw drops ever-so-slightly, as if overcome with lust while his head falls back against the wall.

When he drags his touch back up to your clit, you grasp onto his shoulders, throat going dry.

“There it is,” he murmurs, awestruck. “So fucking good, Bee…s’fucking heaven. You know that? Have to fucking know…could touch you forever.”

And you don’t doubt he means it as he continues to tease you, spreading you open just so before traveling down to dip the tip of his finger inside.

Your forehead finds his as you fist the material of his shirt to brace yourself. “Harry…”

“What?” His other hand slides beneath your underwear to squeeze your ass and help roll you against his fingers. “What? Say it.”

But you can’t speak. He’s not even doing anything, just…touching you to touch you and it feels like everything you’ve ever been missing.

God damn him for being this good on his third try.

His lips move for your neck, teeth zealously grazing a vein just below your ear. And you keen, nails scratching down his chest and strong arms as you work to memorize the feel of his body.

He’s so…beautiful. He’s always been cute. You knew this, but now…now you’re forced to see him and his body in a different light.

He’s strong, and sturdy, and so fucking sexy. If he asked you to spend the evening just…licking up every inch of his skin…you just might.

And you’d be okay with that.

Once a second finger is added, you just about lose it. Clenching around him pitifully as the sounds below you nearly drive you mad.

He takes a deep breath against your collarbone, groaning in the back of his throat at the feel. “Shit, Bee…what are you doing to me?”

You imagine this is more of a rhetorical question, and you wouldn’t be able to answer even if it weren’t.

Suddenly, you whimper, and instantly his touch curls, as if subconsciously affected by the sound.

Then…he pulls out, and you practically wilt as you bury yourself in his arms and try to breathe.

His chest vibrates with a chuckle as his palm smooths up from your ass to your spine, stroking soothingly. “Sorry, just can’t wait any longer.”

And despite the now empty feeling, you nod your understanding and lean back to help him slip your underwear off.

After a bit of struggle, and a few shared laughs, you readjust back onto your knees to settle over his leg.

Again, his eyes glue to the sight before him, watching with near amazement as you lower yourself down.

The second the contact is made, you both turn into incoherent puddles of obsession. It’s like medicine. The way you coat his skin, grinding against it with ease as his fingers now dig into your hips to help guide you.

His jaw goes slack while slumps against the headboard, overcome with longing at the feel. “Fucking shit—”

“Har,” you whisper, nails now in his hair, scratching down his scalp as he groans again.

He nods his chin at you, focus sluggish. “Go on, it’s okay. Keep going, m’right here.”

And you do. You roll your cunt over his thigh repeatedly, desperate for the stimulation. And it’s nothing compared to his fingers, or even your own, but you love it, nonetheless. Love the way he feels beneath you. Love the way his tattoo glistens, illuminated by the soft light of the lamp.

You love…

Your head shakes, clearing the thought before it can form as you return your attention to his face.

He looks so happy. So unbelievably thrilled with what you’re doing to him, and your heart soars.

Most of the men you’ve been with only think about what you can do for them. What giving you pleasure will do to them. What they deserve from you.

And sure, Harry has been a selfish, narcissistic ass for the entirety of your friendship.

But not now. Not here.

No, here…it’s about you. It’s about the other person. Hell, this whole thing started because he wanted to make sure he was good enough for Tina. That he could provide her with everything she deserved. It wasn’t about what she was going to give him in return.

Just like it’s not about the intricate and kinky ways you plan to get him off. He wants to learn what gets you off. Wants to learn what makes you tick.

So watching you soak his thigh as you use him to come is what he really wants.

Your lips roll into your mouth, an attempt at swallowing the rush of adoration for him.

However, he notices. Because of course he notices, and immediately, he reaches up to press his fingers into your cheeks and pop your lips free.

“Don’t,” he warns, frowning a bit as he studies you. “Don’t do that, it scares me.”

Your brows pull together as you work in a deep breath. “Wh…what? Why?”

“’Cause I don’t know what it means,” he says. “I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong, or if you don’t like it, or if you want to stop.”

You almost smile at the way he’s beginning to understand why you were so apprehensive before. Because communication is key, and your chest gets tight at the sound of unease in his voice.

You tug on his curls, head shaking quickly. “I don’t want to stop, Har…god, I don’t wanna stop. Promise, s’just…feels so good.”

His pupils double in size as he looks up at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nose nuzzling his once again.

He smiles softly, lashes falling shut as he drinks you in. “Good. But don’t do that. If you wanna be loud, then be loud.”

“Okay,” you murmur, kissing the side of his jaw. “Okay, I promise.”

The grip on your hips constricts as he kneads on the flesh to convey his appreciation. “Good girl.”

Your breath hitches.

And when he notices, something flashes behind his eyes. Something…primal.

“What else…was on the list?” he asks, voice heavy and thick. “What else, Bee?”

“I don’t know,” you nearly whine, face nuzzling into his neck. And it’s true. You don’t have the mental capacity right now to remember a goddamn thing outside of him.

Which you aren’t exactly upset about.

He smiles again, his cheek brushing your forehead as his fingers suddenly appear around the back of your neck to pull you out of hiding. “Want you to do something for me.”

Now you do whine, rather impatiently as your thrusts against his leg are forced to slow.

He glances over toward his nightstand. “Open it and grab the red thing.”

You huff at a stray hair that’s fallen across your face before leaning over to slide the drawer open.

After peering inside, you find the aforementioned object, and pluck it free. Then, once you’ve settled back down over his thigh, you hand it to him.

But he doesn’t take it. He simply nods his chin at you with a coy smirk. “Open it.”

Curious, you do as told, studying it carefully as you attempt to figure out just what it is…before you realize.

It’s a pocketknife.

You can feel your lips part and your eyebrows raise as you flick the blade free. It shimmers against the light, taunting you with its power as Harry watches you.

“S’not, you know…a steak knife, but…” He runs his tongue over his lip in anticipation. “Will it…I mean, does it work for you?”

Normally, you’d tease him for something like this, but now…

You clench around nothing as a rush of adrenaline washes over you.

And Harry can tell, because he tenses when he feels the way you drip down his leg, his teeth gritting with possessive infatuation.

“So…yes,” he decides, still smug as he returns his hands to your hips.

You look at him, heart racing beneath your chest. “Har, we don’t…this isn’t everyone’s thing, I don’t wanna push you—”

“Uh-uh,” he quickly scolds, shaking you once. “We made a deal, yeah? If I didn’t think I could handle it, I would tell you. That’s what we’re doing this for, remember? To try. To see.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Have I said watermelon?”

The stern but rather good point makes your jaw clamp shut. “No.”

“No,” he agrees, cradling the back of your neck once again to bring you closer. “So, take that knife…and do whatever…you wanna do with it.”

He kisses you again, hoping to ease whatever doubt you might have, and you want to thank him. Want to wrap your arms around his neck and just…stay there.

He nips at your bottom lip, at your tongue, at your cheek. Distracted by your taste.

So distracted, that he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’ve brought the blade closer to his jaw.

But when the cool edge slides along his skin, he stills, and you feel the hitch in his breath.

You start slow. Gentle. Tentative of his reaction as you pull back to study him.

He doesn’t…seem uncomfortable. Or nervous or panicked. Granted, you haven’t even touched him with the sharp side of the blade yet, but he knows it’s coming.

However, his attention remains on you. Watching you with the same focused determination that you’re watching him.

He wants to see what this does to you.

“Are you sure?” you hear yourself whisper, more timidly than you’d meant.

He nods. So subtle, you almost miss it. “Yes. I trust you.”

I trust you.

There’s a ripple in your chest where your heart lies, and you swallow.

Then…you rotate the knife, and let the cutting edge move across his cheek.

You hardly apply any pressure, a bit too nervous to actually hurt him. But even the sight of the silver metal dancing across his face makes your stomach flutter.

You squirm a bit harder against his thigh before moving the tip of the blade down, watching as it travels across the equally sharp curve of his jaw.

He sucks in a quiet, strained breath, his body rising and falling ever-so-slightly as his eyes flick across your face. “Are you okay?”

It’s your turn to nod, which you do, mutely.

“Bee, come on.” It’s almost a warning, but you don’t look at him. You look at the knife in your hand. You look at the way it slips under his chin. Look at the way goosebumps form in the wake. “Need to hear you say you’re okay.”

“M’okay,” you murmur, still mesmerized. “Just don’t wanna hurt you.”

His fingers instantly press harder into your hips. “Hurt me,” he says, so sincerely that it just about catches you off guard. “Hurt me. It’s okay. I promise. I fucking promise, Bee. Don’t care, just want you to do it. Want you to do whatever you want. Please.”

And now he’s begging you to cause him pain, and while this speaks volumes to his masochistic tendencies, you can’t help but feel pleased.

So, you use the position of the knife under his chin to tilt his head up.

His eyes widen but you can see the desire swimming behind the hopeful expression.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time with a more devious undertone. “You sure you want me to hurt you, pretty boy?”

He’d likely laugh at the nickname if it were any other moment. It’s something you used to call him back in high school, and now…now it seems to have found its place once again.

After all, he is pretty. Especially right now, with a blade teasing his skin.

“Yes,” he whispers, and you clench yet again around nothing.

And the need in your stomach has grown as you slowly roll your hips over his leg, now drenched with you.

And this slow, torturous pace that you’ve set so as to not hurt him is biting you in the ass now. Because it’s going to kill you.

And it’s going to kill him, too, if the growing erection in his boxers is any indication.

But not once has he suggested you help him out. Something that almost disappoints you, seeing as one of your favorite pastimes is turning your partner on. Making them feel good. Watching the way they fall apart.

A trait he seems to share.

It makes you smile to see so many similarities, so many kinks in him that mirror your own. Further proof that you made a rather good choice in a best friend.

When the pressure begins to pick up, and the urge to throw caution to the wind and grind against his thigh until you’re screaming overwhelms you, you make a decision.

You toss the knife to the floor, wrap your arms around his neck, and just take.

You suck on his tongue as he groans, his palms sliding down your back before they’re disappearing beneath the hem of your tank top.

Then, he slips around the front to collect your tits in his hands, pushing them together before running his thumb over the nipple just to feel you shudder.

Everything else is disregarded as he works to get you off. To feel you come against his thigh.

And he’s so warm. So feverishly hot that it makes your fingers shake as you trail them down his chest just to mimic him by slipping them under his shirt.

His stomach. You whimper against his mouth at the feel of his abs. The way they bend, and dip, and ripple as he works in desperate breaths. As he snakes an arm around your hip to drag you a bit harder over his leg. As he braces himself from the pleasure.

Struck with new inspiration, you reach for his wrist, tugging it out from beneath your tank top to bring it up to your throat.

Cautiously, you guide his fingers to the sides of your neck, pushing them into your skin just hard enough that he’ll get the hint.

And for a moment, he stills, seemingly unsure of whether or not he’s ready to have this kind of control over you.

But then, he gets a better grip. Touch constricting around your airway until each potential breath dissipates from your lungs and small, floating stars dance behind your eyes.

You give him just a moment to decide if he likes it or not.

And then…everything changes.

So fast, and so sudden, you hardly have time to process.

He growls into the kiss before he’s lifting you off his lap, tossing you onto the other side of the mattress, and placing himself above you.

His hand instantly returns to your throat, making a home on your neck as he squeezes.

And you gasp, back arching off the bed as he dips down to kiss you again.

But not just kiss you.

Take you.

He tugs on the pink fibers of your bottom lip with fervor. Angry enough that you can’t help the whimper that slips from your mouth into his.

And he feeds off it. Presses his bent knee back into your cunt just to tease you, forcing more pleasure to roll over each nerve ending.

A moment later, you taste the metallic, tangy flavor of blood as it drips back into your mouth and down your throat.

He’s made you bleed.

Yet another kink to check off the list, and you squirm against his leg once more as he eagerly sucks the droplets into his mouth.

His lashes flutter, and your heart just about jumps out of your chest.

Breathing harder than you ever have, you watch with awe as he finally uncurls his fingers from your airway to lean back and see you. Study you.

Then, his thumb finds your lip. He swipes it through the blood collecting around your mouth, eyes wide and filled with need.

He pushes it into your mouth, albeit gently, with the unspoken request that you suck.

So…you do.

You suck the ever-loving shit out of his finger as your pussy practically vibrates against his knee, forcing him to inhale in a sharp breath of his own.

He’s happy.

So goddamn proud that you don’t quite know what to do with yourself except keep making him happy.

A second later, he’s dragging his thumb back out just to trail it down your chin. Blood and spit staining your skin exactly the way you love.

Exactly the way he loves.

“Shit,” he mumbles, his other hand smoothing down the side of your ribcage. “Shit, Bee…look at you.”

You say nothing. Can say nothing. Because he is everything, and you aren’t even here anymore. You’re merciless to his intentions. Desperate for each touch, hanging off each word, each thought.

He pushes your top up until it collects just above your chest, thumb returning to your sternum to paint a picture of his obsession.

He drags it between your tits before moving it over to your nipples, smearing the blood over the peak as it hardens.

Then, his eyes meet yours…and he lowers.

His lips wrap around you, licking at the ruby marks over your breast before pulling you into his mouth.

And it’s game over.

It’s sadistic, and cruel, and absolutely perfect. Everything about this—about him—is perfect.

His leg against your cunt, his mouth on your body, his curls tangling in your fingers.

Everything.

Him.

You.

All of it.

Your head rolls back against the mattress, your focus finding the ceiling as you will yourself not to scream.

But you do moan, rather lasciviously, and the sound of it has Harry’s nails pulling at your skin.

And you’re rather excited about the marks you might find tomorrow.

“Fucking killing me, Bee,” he grunts, popping off your tit to nose under your jaw. “M’so goddamn lost on you. Do anything for you…anything.”

Anything.

“Everything,” he adds, squeezing your hip. “Shit…don’t think I can do much more. Might actually kill me.”

And you know what he means. Know exactly the kind of pain mixing deep within his belly at the lack of release.

And suddenly…you’re struck with inspiration. Possessed by an idea you know you’ll come to regret tomorrow.

But you really don’t fucking care.

You grasp onto his face, palms melding with his cheeks as you force his eyes on you. “Harry?”

He seems to steel himself at the sound of his name, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he presses his knee further into you.

You squirm once more, arching a bit higher as you pout at the unfairness. “Thought of…something else…we could try.”

His brow raises. “Yeah?”

You nod, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I want you…to fuck me.”

He’s torn between two reactions. Surprise and acceptance.

You can feel just how much he enjoys the idea by how firm his grip on your body becomes. How pointed, how ravenous.

But you both agreed there was no going back after something like that. And you can see the way he considers your proposal.

And you know him. You know he’s asking himself if this is really what you want. If you’re in your right mind. Aware enough to even suggest such a thing.

He’s asking himself if you’ll regret him.

And you want to assure him that you could never…but you can’t. That’s not something you can promise. All you can do is hope he does it anyway.

You sit up just enough to nuzzle your nose against his, exactly the way he had before. “Please, Harry…please…need you. Need to feel you, gotta feel you, Har…hurts so bad—”

He makes another animalistic noise in the back of his throat as he presses his forehead to yours. “Bee—”

“Gimme everything, Har, please,” you continue rather insistently. “Be so good for you. Promise. Just need it. Need you…can’t…can’t fucking take it, Harry—”

“Fuck,” he just about groans, lowering his hips until they can grind against yours.

And the feel of his cock, so close yet so far…nearly does it.

You mewl at the contact, the sound pathetically desperate, but it seems to be the only thing to tip the dominos.

And every fear, every hesitation, every warning is instantly shoved aside as he kisses you once again. “Promise me we won’t change.”

He rolls himself over your cunt a second time, just before you can answer, and you whimper once more as your nails scratch down his shirt. “Har—"

“Fucking promise me,” he repeats, nearly hissing the instruction at you. “If I do this—if we do this—you have to fucking promise me, Bee. Can’t fucking lose you. Can’t do this and then lose you, I can’t—”

“I promise,” you whisper quickly. “I promise, Har, just…please.”

And that’s all he needed to hear, a smile breaking free across his face as the last domino finally falls.

“Good…cause we’ve still got quite a bit of list to go.”

DON'T YELL AT ME, THERE'S ANOTHER PART COMING, I SWEAR!!!

Next Part:

~ Feel Me* (Pt. 4)

Previous Part:

~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags:

@onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @indierockgirrl @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #blurb #imagine #smut #concept #harry styles best friend #best friends to lovers #harry and bee

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absurdthirst · 7 months

Text

The Mercenary and the Whore {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: Sex work, prostitution, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bathing Tovar, bath sex, riding, parting company, angst, confessions of love, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of child planning

Comments: When Pero Tovar comes to your brothel, he makes sure to monopolize your time. Wanting to spend every second he can between your thighs. Unable to tell you how he feels before he leaves for the East and you are sick with worry for your favorite client who is much more than that to you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s getting closer to when he will arrive. The mornings are getting shorter, the chill of the air starting to make your breath a white cloud in front of you when you do what chores you need to before you have to work. He always comes when the weather turns. Once then, then again three months later. Sometimes he would visit often during the summer if he had taken work nearby. But he always came during the colder months. You anticipated his arrival, knowing he would monopolize your time and keep you from taking other clients. Pero Tovar was greedy for his time between your thighs and it left little time or energy for anyone else.

Pero grunts at the matron of the brothel, giving her your name, and she nods, realizing who he is. He strides up the stairs, two at a time, his armor and weapons clanging, and finally he’s knocking on your door. When you answer, his stomach twists and he feels like he’s home. Something he would never admit to anyone else. He offers you a rare smile, saying your name. “Hola, hermosa.” He murmurs, his eyes trailing down your body, covered by the thin tunic but he knows what’s underneath, has dreamed about it since he last left your bed.

“I know you are eager to strip off your armor.” You purr, giving him a winsome smile and stepping back so he can push into the room that you live and work out of. It’s not ideal, being a whore, but it keeps the roof over your head and your belly full. All things that you had been in sore need of before you had arrived at this brothel. He won’t bathe yet, too desperate for you, and you will let him touch you despite the grime from the road. “It has been too long, Tovar.”

“Too long, hermosa.” He murmurs, working on the ties to his armor as his cock starts to harden . Even just the smell of you has him aching for you. “I thought of you. Many nights.” He promises, not wanting to tell you about the days. Riding on his horse with his thoughts for company once William had run out of things to ramble on about, he thought about you and what you are up to. He sets his armor down and reaches for his tunic, pulling it over his head.

“You thought of me while you were between another woman’s thighs?” You have no delusions about this thing with Tovar. He pays for your cunt, even as well as he treats it and despite your own traitorous heart, he does not want a life with you. “That is not well done of you.” You chide playfully, pulling your thin tunic over your head so you are bare when he throws his own to the floor and glares at you.

Tovar shakes his head, “no one else. There was men only and I am not that way inclined. Some are. I only dreamed of your wet cunt.” He promises, shoving his trousers down after kicking off his boots. When he’s bare before you, he steps closer to grab your ass, dragging you against him and he presses his nose into your neck. “Always smell delicious.”

Closing your eyes, your fingers find and tangle into his dirty hair. Not caring that it is slightly oily. You have him here, even if it is just for a week or so before he disappears again. “Just for you.” You hum, knowing that he enjoys the clean scent of your skin and the flowers that you press into the soap you use. Letting you scrub him with the same soap when he finally gets into the tub that will be brought to your room. “My wet cunt is ready for you.”

Tovar slaps your ass and growls, ready for you and he will be rough this first time. Your pleasure won’t be his priority but he always makes it up to you in the sex following this frantic coupling. He guides you over to your cot, laying you down and he spreads your legs so he can see your dripping cunt. Humming in contentment, he slides his fingers through your slickness, “who made you this wet, chiquita?”

“You, Tovar.” You aren’t lying, although you can see that he doesn’t believe you. His shoulders are broad and his body is fit. The body of a mercenary, littered with scars and you know that one of the days he will occupy your bed, you will trace them making note of any new ones and fussing slightly over them. You whimper when he presses his fingers to the little nub beneath the curls of your sex. His cock is jutting out and the thick head is purple when he pulls the skin back. “How do you want to fuck me, Tovar? Like this? Or do you wish to watch my ass while you fill my cunt?”

“Yes.” He hisses, “from behind. Want to - fuck. Want to see your ass.” He murmurs and pulls his hand away, jerking himself slowly while you shift onto your hands and knees. He groans when he shuffles closer so he can notch his cock at your entrance and he pushes into you with a low whine, eyes closing as your hot walls envelop him.

You keen, always loving the pinch of pain when it comes to taking Pero for the first time after so long apart. You won’t claim that you are as tight as you were when you were innocent, but the Spaniard has a big cock. “Yes.” You moan, eyes rolling back when his hips hit your ass and he's buried to the hilt. “Missed this cock, Tovar.” You admit breathlessly. “Now,” you look over your shoulder. “Ride me hard and work out the need you have for me.”

Tovar groans, low and loud as he twitches inside of you. “It’s been too long without this exquisite cunt, hermosa.” He murmurs as he caresses your spine until he’s gripping your hips, grinding impossibly deeper before he pulls out. Pushing back inside in a quick motion, he sets a harsh pace, grunts escaping his lips as he watches your ass jiggle and your asshole flutter as he pushes deep into your cunt.

Tovar’s pace takes your breath away, all you can do is moan and hold on. Making sure he does not push you too far forward onto the cot. You love how frantic he always is this first time, the ache he leaves you with always growing with each time he takes you after. Long after his last time, you will feel him between your thighs even after you have bathed away the sweat and cum, washed your sheets and taken another man. If you could, you would daydream about the dark, dangerous mercenary with a long scar on his left eye while you are under another man as he grunts away. “So good, b-Tovar.” He doesn’t like you using pet names with him, so you don’t flatter him like you might another customer.

“Always good.” Tovar groans, his fingers digging into your flesh until they slide up to cup your tits. He bends over your body, enjoying how you clench around him, and he’s close. He goes months without a hot cunt around him so he struggles to last during his first encounter with you. “Hermosa. I- I won’t last. Where?” He asks, always wanting to make sure you decide.

“Inside.” You rarely go a day without drinking the tea that will prevent a child and you know how much he hates to pull out of your body to spill his seed. Unless he is in your mouth or wants to paint your skin with it when he is feeling particular. “Fill my cunt up and show me how much you have missed it.”

“Shit.” Pero curses, his eyes clenched shut as he buries himself deep and spills his hot seed onto your walls, a low groan escaping his lips. “Fuck.” He pants, slowly rocking his hips as he rides his pleasure and he leans in to kiss your shoulder. “Gracias, hermosa.”

You smile and hum, looking over your shoulder at his panting frame. “Always my pleasure.” You tell him, knowing that even if you did not experience pleasure this time, you will several times before he leaves again. The first time with him is always quicker than the rest. He says it’s because your cunt is so good and it’s been so long since he’s had it that he cannot pace himself.

He caresses your back and presses kisses to your skin. Beyond your doors, he is a hardened killer, a survivor, but with you, he is soft and gentle. He allows himself to be tender with you. Unbeknownst to you, he leaves his heart with you when he leaves but he would never confess that.

Your eyes flutter with pleasure. He always touches you in small ways that makes your heart quake and you fall deeper for a man you could never have. When he finally pulls his softening cock out of your cunt, you shift to your side and look at him. “Do you want me to have the bath and a meal sent up?” You ask, knowing his preferred method of relaxing.

Tovar nods, shifting to lay down on the bed and he stares at you, admiring your features. You’ve always been so gorgeous and he loves how you make him feel. He wants to feel like this all the time but he can’t. He has to sell his sword. “Have you been busy?” He asks, running his knuckles along your spine.

“Busy enough.” You shrug one shoulder and roll your eyes. “A group of Lord Crowley’s men came in a month ago.” You tell him. “Luckily it was my monthly, they put Adrina and Gwen out of work for nearly two weeks.” The men had been brutal and it had taken time for their injuries to heal.

Pero frowns, his touch freezing on your skin. He worries about you when he’s away, scared that the next time he returns he won’t find you because someone strangled you during a passionate encounter. “Men are animals. They do not realize how lucky they are to have a beautiful woman in their company. They should pleasure, not harm.” He shakes his head and worries that you will get hurt by someone one day.

“Most men do not think like you.” You remind him. “They only think of their own pleasure and Crowley’s lot have no control because their lord is just as bad.” You know that you were lucky to have been indisposed and because of that, you had shared your pay with the two girls while they were recovering.

“Bastards.” Pero hisses, shaking his head again. “They should be killed.” He murmurs, knowing he’d love the pleasure to kill them but he doesn’t have a reason to hunt them down and he doesn’t want to leave your side until he has to. “Are you hungry?” He asks, wanting you to eat if you’re hungry.

You smile, knowing he must be hungry if he is making hints. You lean in and kiss his cheek because you don’t allow kissing, not even Tovar. “I will go order your bath and meals.” You tell him before you climb off your cot and stand, reaching for your tunic to shrug on. You can clean up his seed when you come back. “Do you want ale too?”

“Is that even a question?” He scoffs playfully and you giggle, making him smile. He winks at you and watches you disappear out of the room to tell the matron to bring the tub and the meals. He will happily pay for your meals while he is in your company.

Coming back up the stairs, you meet a giggling pair of your friends. “So we will not see you for at least a week?” Gwen asks. “We saw Tovar bolt up the stairs to your bed.”

Adrina nods, smirking at you. “It is funny that he stays so long since I have already pleasured William and he is now drinking. I think your Spaniard is in love with you.”

You scoff and shake your head, your cheeks burning and wishing that it were true. “He just enjoys my touch.” You tell the girls, adopting a saucy wink. “He is a creature of habit, if he had found your bed first you would be the one having your time taken up.”

The girls shake their heads at your naïveté but they don’t push their thoughts on you anymore. Pero looks up when you come back into the room and his stomach twists with the way you look at him. He doesn’t want to leave for even a second. “You’ve ordered food for yourself too?” He checks, wanting to make sure you are fed before he has you again.

“I did.” He is too generous to you sometimes, making sure you eat a proper meal while he is with you. Some men who spend hours with you don’t care if you even drink at all while they are with you, but Pero makes sure your needs are met. You move over to the wash basin and smile over your shoulder. “The bath and the meals will be up shortly. Are you already ready for the next round or should I clean up?”

Pero shakes his head, “you can clean up, hermosa. We have plenty of time. I want to talk. Tell me about how you’ve been - business aside.” He demands, wanting to listen to you talk.

“Agnes had her baby, he is so adorable.” You clean up while you talk. “I got to see him the next day, and since the baby is a boy, Eldon has decided that he would claim the babe as his own.” You don’t think much of that, but Agnes was happy. “They married when the boy, Caspian, was two months old. She moved into the house with him and his mother. We haven’t seen much of her, except when we run into her at the shops. Eldon doesn’t want her visiting with us now that she’s married.”

Pero is surprised to hear that the man took the babe on but he is glad to hear it. “He should allow her to see her friends.” Pero says, “but at least he did the decent thing and married the girl.” Pero says, knowing that it’s always a risk to get a whore pregnant but most men would abandon their bastards and leave the village.

“Yes, she’s allowed to attend church.” You roll your eyes and huff. The priest loudly damned you all to hell every time he saw you on the streets but he would sneak in the back several times a month. Thankfully, he had never come to your bed. “But at least Caspian has been baptized.”

Pero snorts, “I am not a religious man, hermosa. We sin and we die.” He says, knowing his devoutly Catholic mother would be turning in her grave but he doesn’t believe God would be so cruel as to allow some of the sins he has seen committed, some of his own doing. “You…you are my angel.” He says softly, averting his eyes.

“Then I will be your angel.” Your heart softens and you wish that you had met Pero under other circumstances. Despite his claims he would be a horrible husband, you know he would not. He’s gruff, yes, but he’s also tender. You often daydream of a little cottage, making a soft, warm home for him to rest in when he comes home. The knock on your door makes you smile, “and now your angel brings you food.” You tell him as you walk to the door to open it.

“Finally.” Pero grunts playfully and you look back at him before you open the door. The trays are carried in and Pero covers himself with the sheet while the tub is brought in with the steaming buckets of water. “We will fill it ourselves.” You tell Gwen, knowing she came in to see how Pero was lingering in your room.

“Of course.” She says, offering you a smirk that makes Pero frown, wondering what the look was for.

“I am starving.” Tovar groans as you set the tray down in front of him.

“Eat then.” You tell him with a small smile as his eyes roam greedily over the overloaded tray. You make sure that Pero’s portions are generous because you have seen how the man loves his food. “I will fill the tub and it can be cooling slightly while you eat.”

He nods, knowing his mama raised him with better manners but it’s been too long since he had a hot meal and he eagerly digs in. Shoveling the food into his mouth as you pour the buckets into the tub.

You hum as you set out your soap and get some of your drying cloths. You know he will want to soak in the bath, and you don’t blame him. Moving over to claim your own tray, although you hand him the bread, since he has already devoured his. You normally don’t eat it anyway, and rarely take any.

Pero knows what you are doing and he doesn’t like it. Knowing you’ll protest, he splits the bread in half and hands you back the larger piece. “You’ll need your energy.” He reasons with you and you nod, taking the bread from him. He hums in satisfaction and digs back into the stew.

He eats fast, as if it might be stolen from him. Your own meal is eaten at a more sedate pace. “How was your travels?” You ask him, as if you were his wife inquiring about his trip while he is home. “William kept out of trouble?”

Tovar snorts, “you know he can never keep himself out of trouble. Always has to show off and it gets us in trouble.” Pero shakes his head, “and then I have to save his ass. We made it back though. With plenty of coins. Always the main thing.” He says and proceeds to suck and lick his fingers clean. His mama raised him with manners, doesn’t mean he always used them.

“That is good.” You never pry about the money he spends while he is here, but it is a lot. Monopolizing your entire days while he is in your bed, he even sleeps in your room. Not that you mind. His arms wrapped around you and his face tucked into your neck while he snores softly is the safest you ever feel. “How long are you here?”

“It depends. The winter is coming and we need to earn enough coin before we seek shelter for the snow. I am thinking at least a week. More, if William can keep himself out of trouble.” Pero chuckles, “are you going to take other men?” He asks softly, wanting to know where you stand beforehand.

“While you are here?” You scoff and shake your head. “I would not have the time or the energy.” You tease him playfully. In truth, you would happily never let another man between your thighs if you could have Pero, but that was not something that was possible. He was a mercenary and you are a whore.

Pero is reassured, worried that you’d go off while he is sleeping or bathing. It’s selfish but he wishes to keep you all to himself, prepared to pay whatever it takes. “I want to bathe.” He says and stands up from the bed, the sheet falling from his body and he moves fast to step into the hot water, a low groan escaping his lips. “Do you wish to join me, hermosa?”

“What if I wash you?” You ask, finishing up your own meal and moving the trays to the door to place outside. You remove your tunic and walk naked to the tub. “When you are clean, I will join you and mount your cock while you soak in your bath.”

Tovar nods, grabbing the bar of soap so he can begin cleaning himself up. “Can you cut my hair, hermosa?” He asks, wanting to smarten up to be in your company for a week.

You had expected his request. He always wants to have his hair cut and shaved. Humming as you get out your scissors, you kneel down by the bathtub. Running your fingers through his hair and start to cut.

He tilts his head and lets you snip away at the matted locks, enjoying your fingers massaging his head and you grab the soap once you’re done to wash his hair. He groans, closing his eyes as your fingers work his scalp and his cock starts to harden at the ministrations.

“You need someone to take care of you.” You chide softly, massaging his scalp and enjoying the way that he groans. “I can see you enjoying being treated well by a wife, or mistress.”

Pero snorts, his fingers gripping the edge of the tub. “Who would wish to be mine? I am the son of a farmer from Seville. I have been selling my sword since I was fourteen when my parents died and I had nothing. I am a nobody. I own nothing. I do not have a home for a wife or a mistress.”

Your fingers still in his hair and you want to tell him that you would want to be his. Although he would not want a whore. “You will have a home one day.” You predict. “You will stop coming to see me because you have a wife with a babe under her apron and a warm bed to sleep in.”

Pero frowns, not liking to think of a life without you in it. He doesn't answer and he allows you to rinse his hair and he already feels so much better. You grab the scissors again and work on chopping off the excess beard that had become matted during his travels. "You are too good to me, hermosa." He murmurs as you grab the sharp knife to begin styling his mustache.

“You are good to me as well.” You remind him, arching a brow at him playfully before you look back down at his face as you cut the tiny hairs over his lip. Your fingers brushes his lips gently and you hum in satisfaction and lean back. “Now, so handsome.” You tell him, completely honest. He’s one of the most handsome men to you, even more appealing than William.

He blushes slightly under your intense stare and he averts his eyes as you set down the knife. “Are you joining me?” Pero asks and you nod, stepping into the tub and you straddle him, his cock now hard and aching for you. “Hermosa.” He sighs in bliss, his hands caressing your back and he leans in to nudge his nose against yours.

“You don’t have to flatter me.” You promise, whispering the words between you, and your fingers toy with the curly ends of his now shorter hair. “I want to ride you slowly.” You admit, knowing he might prefer a faster pace. “Let you relax while I do all the work, milking your cock for you.”

He can't argue with you, nodding slowly as you reach beneath you to grip his cock. You sink down onto him after notching him at your entrance and you take his breath away. "Fuck." He sighs, tilting his head back at the feel of your warm, soft cunt enveloping him.

Moaning yourself, you take advantage of the vulnerable skin of his throat, leaning in and pressing your lips to his pulse as you grind down on his length. Feeling him pulse inside you as your walls flutter. “Your cock is so good.” You praise, kissing along his jaw and neck while he relaxes into the bath. Making sure that you don’t slosh water too badly, you start at a slow pace that seems to let you feel every vein in his cock.

"Your cunt - it's incredible." Pero murmurs, caressing your spine and he imagines a lifetime with you, relaxing in a warm home...you as his wife. You with his child. It's a beautiful dream but one he can never have. He's a dangerous man who has sinned. His blood soaked hands could never have you as their prize.

Soft groans and ripple of the water is what fills the room. The moment is so tender you wish you could break your rule and press your lips to his. It’s almost love making, although you have never experienced that, you think it would be like this. His hands running over your skin and the soft grunts of pleasure making you moan.

He wants to call you 'amor' but he doesn't know if you'll understand him and he can't take that risk. His cock twitches inside of you and he ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth after cupping your tit and lifting it towards his face.

You whimper when his teeth scrap over the sensitive skin, your fingers tangling into his shorter hair and tugging gently. “So good, Pero.” You moan, not even realizing you called him by his first name. You normally just call him Tovar because that is what he told you the first time he had visited your bed. You use his Christian name when you are touching yourself thinking about him.

He groans into your flesh, wrapping his lips around the nipple and biting down before he soothes it with his tongue. His other hand squeezes your other breast and he leans back, pushing them together with his palms. "So fucking beautiful." He rasps, cock twitching inside of you.

You moan again. “Pero, fuck.” You love how attentive he is, one of the few men you’ve ever had to care about your pleasure. You circle your hips and clench him right. “Love how you feel.”

His hand slides down your body to your clit. He was taught during his first sexual encounter with a whore to pleasure a woman and he’s never forgotten, wanting to feel that delicious tight grip on his cock. He wants you to cum so he finds that bundle of nerves and rubs circles around it.

“Ohhh, ohhh fuck.” Your own head tilts back, enjoying the pressure against the bundle of nerves and your hips jerk in response. “Pero, I- oh baby, I’m gonna soak you.” You warn breathlessly.

"That's it, hermosa. Come on, soak my cock." He grunts, thrusting his hips up so he can push even deeper and he groans your name when your walls start to flutter around his cock.

You fall forward into his chest, pressing your face into his neck and moaning as you hang on. “Oh, oh Perooooooo!” You cry out, your cunt clenching down around him.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, making him hiss your name, and he swears he nearly cums right then but he holds strong. He strokes your back as you shake above him and he kisses along your neck.

Your hips rock as you force yourself to keep moving, loving how each roll of your hips shoots another little fissure of pleasure down your spine. “Cum for me, Pero.” You beg, “fill me up again.”

He can’t deny you, his hand leaving your clit and his hand squeeze your ass, slapping it as he rocks up into you. Water sloshes and he groans your name, so close to his orgasm. “Fuck, hermosa. I’m gonna - I’m gonna -” He pants and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, painting your walls for the second time.

You whimper, enjoying the rush of heat as he fills you. Always loving how thick and how much Pero cums. You run your hands through his hair and sigh softly as he rocks himself through his pleasure as you flutter around him.

He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in with a deep inhale, and he swears he could die right now and be a happy man. You’re his sanctuary and he never wants to leave this moment. “Gracias, hermosa.” He murmurs into your skin, feeling more relaxed than he has in many moons.

“Anytime.” You promise, closing your eyes and laying your head on his shoulder while he holds you close. “I am happy you are here. You are safe.”

Pero doesn’t respond, knowing that any day could be his last. He caresses your spine and enjoys the feeling of holding you close. “Come on, hermosa. The water will get cold and I don’t want you becoming ill.” He says and pulls away from you.

You lift off his cock and quickly clean yourself up and swipe the cloth over his groin as well before you stand up, wrapping another cloth around your body before holding his. “Do you want me to dry you?” You ask, wanting to make sure he is relaxed and enjoying himself with you.

Pero shakes his head, “No gracias, hermosa. I can dry myself.” He offers you a wry smile and stands up once you’re out of the tub. He takes the cloth you hand him and he dries off, suddenly exhausted. “I want to sleep. Can you lay with me?” He asks, wanting to wrap himself around you.

It is times like these that you feel you cheat Pero. He pays good coin for your company and he wishes to sleep? “Of course.” You nod, moving to set the trays outside the door and hang your cloth up to dry. You will sleep nude and you are thankful you had fresh sheets on your cot. He deserves a good rest in a clean bed. “Anything you wish.”

He hums in delight when he lays down and you lay down beside him, pulling the sheets over you both. His arm wraps around you and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, breathing you in until he’s softly snoring into your ear.

You stay awake for a long time after Pero starts to snort. Holding him close in the dark as the sounds of the brothel filter dully through the walls. Closing your eyes and imagining the sounds of the woods, animals outside of a small cottage. Cozy and secluded, just the two of you, together every night. You fall asleep and dream of Pero.

****

“Fuck, hermosa.” Pero groans when you clench around him. His eyes watch you as you gyrate above him and he slides his hands up to cup your tits. “So fucking beautiful.” He murmurs, his dark eyes nearly black with lust. He has spent every moment in the past week with you aside from the hour he left to speak to William. He isn’t sure if he wants to leave when the time comes but he has to. He needs to earn more coins.

Riding Pero has always been something that you enjoy but this week you have been frantic for it. “So fucking good.” You moan, leaning back and letting him play with your tits. “God, Tovar, you are so perfect inside me.” You’re greedy, knowing he will be leaving today or tomorrow so you want him to remember this.

"Fuck, hermosa. Amor." He pants, lost in the pleasure and unable to think about anything but you. He moans your name again and wraps his arms around you, dragging you into his chest. He thrusts up into you, wanting you to cum for him, and he buries his face in your neck.

Your moan is loud, gasped out when he calls you amor, although you try to reason that he is caught up in the sex. Your arms tighten around him and you whimper his name. “Perooooo.” His cock hits perfectly inside you and you shatter, clenching down around him like a vice as you soak him with your juices.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts up into you, moaning your name and it doesn’t take him long to cum. Painting your walls for the umpteenth time, he bites down on your shoulder to stop himself saying the words that linger on the tip of his tongue.

“Pero. Pero, oh god.” You cling to him, making your eyes and panting breathlessly at how good it feels. Your eyes water behind your lids and you bite your lip to keep from weeping. You know he is leaving and you don’t think you can bear it.

He caresses your back, kissing the spot he just sunk his teeth into, and he relaxes beneath you. Pulling you down to rest on his chest, he doesn’t say a word, wanting to enjoy this last time before he has to leave.

You sense the fact that he doesn’t want to talk so you snuggle into his embrace and sigh softly. Listening to his head beat in his chest and his breathing whoosh in and out slowly after he catches his breath. Wondering when he is going to leave and how you are going to handle not seeing him again anytime soon.

Pero isn’t sure how long he lays there, now soft but still inside of you, and he breathes you in until there’s a knock at the door. He groans, not liking his peace being disturbed, but you pull off of him and grab your tunic, pulling it over your head so you can open the door. William stands there and nods at you, peeking his head in at his Spanish companion. “It’s time, brother.” Pero nods, stomach twisting as he shifts from under your crumpled sheets to begin getting ready to leave.

Your heart plummets to the floor and you want to slam the door closed and pretend William isn’t there, but there would be no point. Pero isn’t yours. He wasn’t going to stay with you. You bite your lip and look towards Pero. “I will have them pack a bag of food for the road.” You announce before you rush down the stairs, leaving the two men to talk.

Pero speaks to William about the plan to venture East to find the black powder and he isn’t sure if he likes the idea but the coins sound too good to turn down. He would be set for life. He could return to you, marry you, start a life with you. He nods when William tells him to get ready and he takes his time dressing, looking up at you when you step into your room.

“Your food will be ready when you go down to saddle your horse.” You hate the sight of him strapping his armor to his body. The thick leathers changed him from lover to ruthless mercenary. Instead of crying, you move to the water bowl to clean yourself. You will have to go back to work after he leaves, taking other men into your bed.

After finishing tying his boots, Pero stands up to face you. “Gracias, amor. Por todo.” He says and reaches for you to drag you into his chest, his hand cupping the back of your head to keep you as close as possible.

You hate how cold the leathers are, wishing to feel his body again. “Safe travels.” You murmur against his chest. You can’t ask when you will see him again, it is not your place.

Pero slides his hands down your body, committing it to memory, and he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, desperately wishing to kiss you but he knows you have your rules.

You almost do it. You lean in to kiss him but he knows you have to keep that off the table. Instead, you nudge his nose back and inhale steadily. “Be safe, Pero.” You murmur quietly. “I will see you then next time you decide to see me.”

He nods as he pulls back and he stares at you for a moment. “Hasta luego, hermosa.” He murmurs and grabs his satchel, walking away before he falls to his knees and begs you to let him stay.

“Goodbye, Pero.” You murmur softly, watching him walk out the door and listening for his boots thumping on the stairs before your tears start to fall.

It takes everything in him to leave on his stead alongside the Irishman who knows the feelings Pero has for you. He knows you are the woman he loves and he understands why Pero cannot take you as his own. The Spaniard is a complicated man and his emotions are even more chaotic. "She will be there when you come back." William says and Pero just grunts his response.

****

He must be dead. Your heart aches every time someone comes to your bed and it’s not him. Every time the door opens and it’s not the Spaniard, your sighs get a little heavier. Your friends have worried about you as you silently grieve. Pero has either fallen on a battlefield or he has found a wife like he deserved. Either way, the time for him to visit had come and gone four times. A year has passed and you finally admit to yourself that you will never see him again.

Pero looks up at the sky before he steps into the brothel. He’s been gone a year. It’s been a long time and he has gone through so much in the past twelve months. He gives your name at the desk and the matron looks weary but escorts him to your room, knocking on your door and Pero inhales sharply at his first glance at you after so long. “Hola amor.” He murmurs, his heart pounding in his chest.

You freeze, shocked at the sight of Pero in your doorway, looking tired but whole. “You are alive.” You choke out, sure that you would never see him again. You had cried so many nights when your last client had left your bed and the seasons had changed with no word from him. Swallowing harshly, you wonder why he is here now.

“Lo siento, amor.” Pero feels guilty that he didn’t send a rider to give you warning of his arrival but he’d been a little busy trying to not die in the far east. The matron glances between you and decides to leave you to it. Pero shuffles from one foot to the other, waiting for you to make a move.

You bite your lip, trying not to cry because all you want to do is hold him close and kiss him. Then slap his face because he worried you so badly. Clearing your throat, you send him a bland smile. “I am sure you are wanting a meal and a bath?” You ask, trying to keep things as they were before. “You must have been very busy.”

He can tell you’re not happy with him and he frowns, “that would be nice.” He nods and you step aside to let him into your room. “How have you been, hermosa?” He asks softly once he’s sitting down:

“I have not been the best.” You admit with a careless shrug. “I was feeling poorly early this year.” You move towards the door so you can order his bath and meal, none for yourself. “But I have survived.”

Pero frowns even more at that news, worried that he could’ve lost you before he returned. “Good. Always good to survive.” He offers you a small smile that you don’t return and you leave to go order his meal and bath. He sighs, rubbing his neck, and when you come back, he takes out the coins he had in his purse. “I want to pay for your company for a week.” He says, holding the pouch out towards you.

Your hand reaches out while you stare at him. Taking the payment for your body without even really reacting to it, beyond your heart breaking. The confirmation that it had never been more than a physical release for him. You look down at the decidedly heavy pouch for a moment before you reach back and heave it towards him as hard as you can. “I do not want your coins!” You yell, tears immediately flooding your eyes and you are blinded by them.

Pero’s eyes widen and he catches the pouch from his quick reflexes, watching you start to sob. “I- I’m sorry, hermosa. I’ll go. I won’t - I will leave you alone. I thought you wanted me here but apparently you wish for me to leave. I’m sorry. I’ll go.” He promises with a choke, heart breaking as you reject him.

“I- I thought you were dead!” You sob, rushing forward and slamming your fists against his leather covered chest. “M-my heart was broken and you-you walk back in as if a year hasn’t passed and pay for my cunt.” You know you aren’t making sense, you are just a whore to him, but he was your love. You loved him, love him still.

He reaches for your wrists, trying to stop you from hitting him. He pulls back to look at you, “amor. Amor. What - I was in China. I nearly died and I couldn’t get word to you. I- I wanted to return to you. Every night. Wanted to come home to you. I needed the coins so I could lay down my sword and return to you, to give you all of me.”

“Liar.” You sob, shaking your head and trying to pull away from his grip. He won’t let you go and you hate how much you are crying. “If-if you wanted to be with me, you would not offer coin.” You stop struggling and collapse against his chest. “I do not want your coin, I want your heart.” You whimper.

Pero’s chest clenches with frustration and he pulls you into his chest, “you have always had my heart. Since the first week I spent in your company. I gave you my coin, I give you my coin, because I wish to take care of you even in my absence, even when I cannot be here. I wish to provide for you because I - because I love you.”

You close your eyes and sob even harder. In relief, in distress for time that you have missed out on. “I love you, Pero.” You whisper. “Mi amor.” You know that you had been foolishly telling yourself that he had not meant it when he called you his love, you hadn’t dreamed to hope. “I have been saving every coin I could, wishing to leave this life behind.” You confess. “I did not think you could love a whore.”

“I don’t love a whore. I love you. Whatever you do, who you are…means nothing to me. I love you.” He murmurs, caressing your cheeks and he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, wanting to feel your lips against his for the first time.

You lick your lips, finding them dry as you press closer. “Yes.” You moan softly. “Kiss me, Pero. I need you to kiss me.” You know that you haven’t kissed much, but he is the only man you want to kiss, to touch you, from now on.

Pero leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and it’s a little awkward. He’s never been an affectionate lover until he met you and now he’s aching for your kiss, for your touch. “Te amo.” He murmurs against your lips before he cups your cheek, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss.

You moan into the kiss, your cunt clenching when his tongue slides into your mouth. Sliding your hands up to tangle into his long hair, you pull him close and kiss him back just as fiercely.

His hands let go of your wrists so he can slide his hands down to grab your waist. It’s sloppy and clumsy as he slides his tongue against yours but he feels like he’s home. He feels like the battles he’s endured have been worth it to just have this moment with you in his arms.

When the kiss breaks, both of you are panting softly. “I love you.” You murmur again. “I- I want you to leave with me.” You sigh. “I want to leave the brothel and find a village where I can just be another woman.”

“I have coins, hermosa. That’s why I left. I wanted to return to you with enough coins for us to build a home together in a village. Get married.” He reveals and he lets go of you, fumbling as he reaches beneath his tunic to pull his gold chain out. He takes it off and reveals the ring he has worn there since he left. “It was my mother’s. I want - I want you to have it. For you to be my wife. Will you?” He asks, eyes widen and lower lip pouting as he waits for your answer.

“Pero….” You gasp, looking down at the simple, yet beautiful ring and then back up into his eyes. “I, yes, of course I will marry you.” You promise, beaming before you lunge forward and press your lips to his again.

He feels relieved and happy, for the first time in a long time, he’s happy. His lips press against yours and he pulls back for a moment so he can slide the ring onto your finger. “I need you, amor.” He murmurs, the fire growing in his belly as his desire for you comes to the forefront.

“You always need to fuck me when you come back from the road.” This time, you are giggling as you pull back and take his hand, dragging him towards your cot. “Come, amor, I have missed you between my thighs.” You admit. “And you will be the last man between them so you should service me well.”

“Not yet.” He murmurs, gently pushing you away. “I want to be clean for my wife. Have them to bring the tub and let me clean up before we lay together. I don’t want to risk you.” He says, knowing he had to care more for your well-being now - the woman that he would lay down and die for.

Your brow raises but you do not argue. Instead, you kiss him once more and rush to the door, eager to have the bath brought in. He loves you. He wants to take you away from here and have a life together. You bring up a pail of water yourself, rushing the boys who brought the tub and other buckets inside out the door and latch it behind them.

Pero works fast to strip off, sinking down into the tub after helping you pour the water in and he groans when the steam curls up around him. “Amor, can you cut my hair again?” He asks timidly, almost shy now you have his ring on your finger.

“Of course I can.” You nod as you move towards the scissors, getting them out and smiling as he relaxes and leans back against the rim. “I like your hair shorter and your beard trimmed.” You admit. “But I will take you however I can get you.” Kneeling down behind him, you pull off your tunic and run your fingers through his hair to start cutting it.

Pero smiles softly, "even with my scars?" He asks and you nod, "especially with your scars." Pero's heart thumps and he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. "I love you." He murmurs and you caress his cheek before you continue working on chopping off his hair.

Once you are done, you wet his hair down and lather soap into it. Smiling when he groans and leans back. Enjoying your fingernails scrubbing his scalp. “Does it feel good, amor?”

“Sí, hermosa.” Pero murmurs, closing his eyes as you wash his hair. “I want to do this for you.” He says, cock twitching when your nails scrap his scalp. He loves it. You finish washing his hair and work on trimming off the excess beard. Pero drinks you in, admiring your features, the way you bite your lip as you concentrate.

When the soap is wiped clean from his face, you smile, running a finger down his cheek. “So handsome.” You coo, “do you want me to wash you as well?” You ask, even as you reach for the clothe and the soap again. The quicker he is clean, the quicker he can touch you.

Pero nods, wanting your touch even though it’s selfish to make you wash him. He groans your name as you start to drag the cloth over his skin and his cock starts to harden. “Te amo.” He murmurs, watching you and his hand comes up to cup your breast.

You moan softly when he squeezes your breast. “Te amo.” You murmur in response, your heart bursting with happiness. You will let Pero rest as long as he needs, but then you will venture to find a place to settle, to build a life together. Your hand wraps around his now clean cock and you pump him gently.

“Mierda.” Pero groans when you squeeze him and he shakes his head, “amor. I want - I want to be inside of you. Please. Let me get out.” He says, pulling your hand off of his cock.

You’re surprised that he doesn’t want you to ride him in his bath, but perhaps he wants this time to be in the cot. Something more meaningful than the times before. You still pout as you stand and reach for the drying cloth as he steps out of the tub.

Pero quickly dries himself off and tosses the cloth aside, reaching for you. He pulls you into his chest, his hard cock trapped between you, and he cups your cheek with one hand as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

It’s softer and sweet, yet the kiss makes you moan. Knowing that this is real. That Pero is here and wants to make you his wife. Your arms wrap around his neck and it’s you that starts to guide him back towards your cot. “I need you.” You beg breathlessly.

Pero needs you too. Desperately. You’re all he has thought about for months. He murmurs your name as he shifts to lay you down on the cot. “Let me make love to you, amor.” He pleads softly, leaning down to wrap his lips around your nipples after positioning himself between your thighs. “I want to taste you.”

“Pero…” you start to protest, knowing that it has been only a day since the last man had been between your thighs but he silences you with a look. You’ve bathed since then, so you lean back and let him do what he wishes with you.

He spreads your thighs as he kisses down your stomach, cock twitching with the thought that it will someday be full of his child, and he inhales deeply when he settles between your thighs. “Fuck, such a pretty cunt.” He mumbles, his hands caressing your soft skin and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds, not wanting to waste another second.

You keen, back arching your hips would rock up if it weren’t for his body and strong arms pinning you down. “Pero!” You’ve never felt a man’s tongue on your cunt and it’s a delicious sensation.

He knows this is something he will be doing again and again now that you are his. His tongue pushes deep into your walls and he groans as his nose presses against your clit, curling his tongue until he’s pulling back to flick it over your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes close and your fingers twist into the sheets as you start to chant his name. Already close to cumming and finding it to be so much better than his fingers rubbing your clit. “So good.”

He sucks on your clit, desperately wanting you to cum for him. He groans your name into your flesh and pushes two fingers into your cunt as he sucks on your clit a little harder.

“Pero!” Your scream is loud, letting everyone in the brothel hear as you come apart for him. Thighs shaking around his head and your cunt locking down around his fingers while pleasure rushes through your body.

He nearly cums when you gush around his digits but he keeps working his fingers inside of you to keep you pleasured until you’re pushing his head away. He kisses along your thighs as you pant, your chest heaving, and he kisses your stomach up to your breasts, pressing kisses on every inch of skin.

“I love you.” You whimper softly, running your fingers through his hair and smiling softly. You press your lips to his just as soon as he is close enough. Tasting yourself on his lips and humming at the sensation. “I love you so much.”

He smiles against your jaw, “I love you too, mi esposa.” He murmurs and shuffles between your thighs. Reaching down to grip his cock, he pulls back his foreskin and swipes the head against your clit. You whine and he chuckles, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly pushing into you with a low groan.

He feels even bigger, better than he ever had. It might just be your imagination, but it feels that way. Moaning softly, you pull your legs back to take him even deeper until he is buried inside you. “After we marry, I can stop drinking my tea if you would want.” You offer breathlessly, imagining being filled with his baby.

“Yes. Fuck, yes. I want - I want that.” He confesses, imagining you full of his baby has him stopping to control himself. He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, his breathing heavier. “Mi amor. Mi esposa. Mi vida. La madre de nuestros niños.” He murmurs, lost in thoughts of the future until he starts to slowly rock his hips.

“Yes.” You moan quietly. Wrapping your legs around him and sighing softly as he treats you as if you are made of glass. You can feel everything, and it’s exquisite.

He moves slowly inside of you, not wanting to rush this. He murmurs your name again and again, like a prayer, as he makes love to you. His ring on your finger as it glistens in the candlelight and his heart pounds in his chest.

This moment is one that you want to remember forever. Every kiss, ever whispered word of love between. You caress his face and look up at him, finding him even more handsome than ever.

He has fought long and hard to return to you, his lover, his reason for fighting so hard. He rocks into you, his hand gripping yours and he wants to hear the sweet cries of your orgasm. He shifts his weight to one forearm and slides his hand between you so he can rub your clit.

“Pero.” You gasp out when you feel the pressure of his fingers against your clit. “Please, amor.” You beg softly, your body getting closer to cumming with every thrust. You never want to be away from him again. Wanting to spend the rest of your life with your Spaniard.

He works your clit a little faster, wanting you to fall over the edge and it doesn’t take long for you to clamp down on his cock. He doesn’t hold back, he can’t after going so long without you. He paints your walls at the same time you soak his cock and he groans your name as he pushes deep, pressing his lips to yours as he rocks you both through your highs.

You whimper as he rocks himself through the pleasure and sigh when he collapses on top of you. “I love you, Pero.” You whisper softly, heart bursting because your feelings are returned. The mercenary and the whore, a love story that shouldn’t be, but is.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar the great wall #tovar x you #tovar x reader #tovar x f!reader #tovar smut #tovar imagine #tovar fanfiction

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graciegoeskrazy · 1 month

Text

i'll give you one more time

part 2 to she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings: idek yall, language i think, dead mom, slightly shitty dad, this isn't even my usual angst this shit is just SAD, r is twelve

a/n: long awaited part 2! enjoy!

The ride home was a heavy, suffocating silence, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. Every ounce of your willpower was spent keeping the tears from spilling over, your eyes stinging as you stared blankly out the window. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend why you’d acted the way you did. Yes, times were tough, and you were teetering on the edge mentally, but surely there were other ways—better ways—you could’ve handled things. Yet, none of that mattered now. The only thing consuming your thoughts was how Matty would react when the two of you finally walked through that door.

The day had dragged on, filled with more emotion and exhaustion than either of you could have anticipated. Matty knew that a conversation was inevitable, that you both needed to talk—really talk—but as he glanced at you, he realized now wasn’t the right time.

You were a mess, physically and emotionally. Your hair was tangled, matted with dirt from your adventure on the London streets, and your clothes were no better, stained and disheveled from the day’s events. It was clear that you were drained, the weight of everything you’d been through etched into your weary features.

Matty sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for what you’d endured, but also a deep sense of protectiveness. He wanted to fix everything, to make it all better, but he knew that right now, the best thing he could do was to give you a chance to breathe, to decompress. The conversation could wait—tonight, what mattered was getting you cleaned up and comfortable.

The silence between you became too much to bear. Matty gently placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you could head inside. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “I’m not mad, okay?”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, your eyes clouded with guilt and confusion. “I ran away, Matty. I scared the shit out of you—”

“Yeah, well, you’re safe now. That’s all I care about, okay?” he interrupted, his tone firm but laced with concern.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “You should be angry.”

“I’m not—”

“You should be yelling at me, kicking me out of your house, something!” The words spilled out before you could stop them, along with the tears in your eyes, the rawness of your emotions catching both of you off guard.

Matty’s expression softened, a mix of sadness and disbelief crossing his face. “What makes you think I would do that?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, your voice cracking as you tried to hold back tears. “I just… I don’t know.”

Matty sighed, stepping closer and gently tilting your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “Listen to me, Tilly. I’m not going to kick you out, and I’m not going to yell at you. I’m just glad you’re here, that you’re safe. We’ll talk about everything, but not right now. Right now, I just want you to take care of yourself, okay?”

“Go take a shower,” Matty said softly, his thumb brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out later.”

You hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but finally, you nodded. The fight had drained out of you, replaced by a deep exhaustion that made it hard to argue anymore.

You looked up at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and nodded without argument. There was no energy left to resist, no fight left in you for tonight. The promise of a hot shower and a bed was all you needed.

Matty watched as you trudged upstairs, each step slower than the last, and he felt a knot of worry tighten in his chest. He wanted to say something, to offer comfort or reassurance, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he silently vowed to be there for you when you were ready to talk, whenever that might be. As you disappeared down the hallway, Matty lingered for a moment, running a hand through his hair. The house was quiet now, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like it was waiting for something to happen. But for now, he decided, it was enough to let you find some peace, even if only for a little while. He made his way to the living room, sinking into the couch with a weary sigh. The day had taken its toll on him too, but his thoughts were with you. They always were. The sun was setting outside, casting long shadows through the windows, and Matty closed his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet of the house wash over him. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but tonight, all that mattered to him was that you were home and safe.

—-------

You’re asleep, lost in a dreamless world where the weight of reality has, for a moment, lifted. As your father started the trek back to his room, he noticed the light peaking through the crack beneath your door, to him, indicating you were awake. He let out a soft sigh and took a detourour to your room. He knocked, “Matilda.” You don’t stir. Your name, the one your mother gave you, is still new on his tongue even after all this time, as if he’s trying to make sense of it, to make it his own. There’s a slight pause, and then he speaks again, his voice lower, softer. “Matilda George. It’s late, you should go to bed.”

There’s no response, only the sound of your steady breathing as you lie curled under the covers, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the room. Matty hesitates at the door, the silence stretching out between you. Finally, with a sigh, he pushes the door open wider. “I’m coming in.”

The door creaks open, and a soft, golden light spills into your room, touching the edges of your bed. His footsteps are careful, almost hesitant, as he crosses the threshold into your room. He stands there for a moment, just watching you sleep, his expression unreadable in the dim light. You’re completely unaware, lost in the depths of slumber, oblivious to the fact that he’s here, that he’s looking at you with something akin to longing.

And then his gaze shifts, catching on something beside you—your diary, lying open on the bed. He hadn’t meant to look, but the way the pages fall open, revealing your handwriting, draws his eyes. Curiosity tugs at him, and before he can think better of it, he reaches down, picking it up.

His eyes scan the words you’ve written, the pages filled with all the things you’ve been too scared or unsure to say out loud. The confusion, the loneliness, the raw ache of trying to understand who he is to you and who you’re supposed to be now. He reads on, the lines blurring together, each word a glimpse into the parts of you that you’ve kept hidden away.

I used to keep track of how many days it had been since I last saw my mother. In the very beginning, I would count down to the exact hour—sometimes even the minute. I’m not sure why I did it. Maybe it was a way to cope with my anxiety. I think I was just measuring the time until I thought my world would blow up again.

I never stop thinking about my mom. I could be laughing and having a nice conversation, and then, all of a sudden, a dark gray cloud comes and blocks my happiness. A part of me doesn’t want it to stop, though, because I’m scared I’ll forget her. In my mind, the day I go a whole 24 hours without thinking of my mom is the day I will have moved on. And I don’t want to move on. Miss Julia asked me the other day, “If you could reverse the cancer and see your mom again, would you?” I replied, “Obviously.” Then she said, “Even though you wouldn’t have Matty?” I didn’t answer.

Overall, I think that’s a harsh question for a twelve-year-old, but whatever. I know she’s right, though. Maybe I wouldn’t reverse it.

My mom was in unspeakable pain—pain that I can’t even begin to understand, pain that I hope I will never experience. I’m not sure where she is now, but I like to think it’s somewhere nice, somewhere she’s at peace. One thing I do know for certain is that she isn’t in pain anymore. She’s free. If I were to reverse things, I would be taking that freedom away from her. I would be calling her back to her pain.

I have a lot of realizations in that small office with Miss Julia. After that session, I realized that with all my thinking about how things could be or could have been, I have yet to fantasize about how life could have been if Matty had been there from the beginning. If he knew about me. If he had been my father from the start.

I don’t understand why my mother didn’t tell me about my father, or why she never told him about my existence. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because she wanted to ‘protect me’. He’s not that bad. He’s kind. He makes me laugh from time to time. I enjoy his music, but I would never outright admit that to him. If it wasn’t for him being my literal father, I’d say we could be twins. But still, she never said a word to him.

I know it’s not because she was ashamed and tried to keep me a secret, but that thought always crosses my mind whether I like it or not.

I know very well that I said I didn’t want to go home with him, and even after I agreed, I promised I would find somewhere else to stay. And he was fine with it. As long as he knew I was safe. The truth is, I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else. I don’t think I want to.

I want to be with my father. I want to call him ‘Dad’. I want him to know that I love and care for him, but I’m too terrified to. I’m also scared that if God forbid, something terrible happens, he will never know how much I love him. Because I don’t think I said that nearly enough to my mom.

I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know how to help him. I have six years left before I’m an adult. He would have to agree to raise me for six years. That could either go really bad or good. I don’t see an in-between.

I’ve played it out in my mind. I will either get exactly what I want or nothing at all. I’m too scared to ask, to tell him that I care, so I’ll just stay silent for now. Because truthfully, I have not a single clue how to do this.

Matty read every single word of your last entry, his eyes tracing each line as if they were the most precious secrets. What struck him the hardest was the realization that if someone could peek inside his brain, take out his thoughts, and lay them side by side with yours, they would be almost indistinguishably similar. That comment about being like twins? It wasn’t far off. And every day, he was noticing it more and more.

He knew it was wrong to be reading your diary, an invasion of privacy he had no excuse for. But he couldn’t stop. He was too caught up, too addicted to the patterns of your mind—patterns that were so familiar because they mirrored his own. The pull was irresistible, like seeing a reflection of himself in your words, understanding you in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

He was so engrossed in his re-reading that he didn’t notice you stir or open your eyes. When you finally took in the sight of him with your diary in hand, you froze, then rolled your eyes. “Reading my diary, are we?” you mumbled, your drowsy state adding a touch of comedy to the tension.

Matty jumped, startled by your voice, and hurriedly closed the book, pushing it aside. “I thought you were asleep!” he stammered, his guilt obvious.

“And I thought the cardinal rule of diaries was that no one else is supposed to read them?” you continued, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He shook his head, trying to backpedal. “I didn’t read it—I swear.”

“Yeah, you did,” you shot back, the sly smile now full-blown.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted, not missing a beat, the look of defeat settling on his features. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down wearily, adjusting yourself as the weight of the moment settled in. Matty, still feeling the need to say something, continued, “I didn’t know you were a writer.”

“I’m not,” you replied simply.

Matty scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t see many twelve-year-olds putting out words like this.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the compliment. “I’m not putting them ‘out.’ I’m putting them in a three-dollar notebook I got at the grocery store.”

He shrugged, not willing to let it go. “They’re good nonetheless.”

You offered him a weary, tight-lipped smile, the kind that said you were too tired to argue but appreciated the sentiment. Matty’s tone softened, almost a whisper. “Sit up for a second.”

Your eyes changed, a flicker of panic flashing as you realized he had actually read everything you wrote—all of it. You hesitated, your heart racing. “You said it was time for bed.”

“This will only take a second.” His voice was gentle but insistent. After a weary pause, you sat up, looking at him with guarded eyes. He took your hands in his, the gesture tender as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then looked at you, his expression serious. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Matilda.”

For a moment, the room was silent. You’d been waiting for this conversation for months, but you never expected it to happen now, like this. “Yes, I do,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Where?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

“Somewhere where I’m not in your way.” You slowly pulled your hands from his grasp, the distance between you growing in that small action.

“You’re not in my way, my love,” he said softly, trying to reassure you.

“I could be. I will be,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

“No, you won’t,” he said, a bit more firmly this time.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered, doubt creeping in.

“If you’re anything like me—and you are, whether you like it or not—we’ll have some challenges,” Matty admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’ve wasted so much time…and missed out on so many things over the last twelve years, Tilly. I’ll be damned if I miss one more.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all you saw was a sincerity that made your chest tighten. It was overwhelming, the idea that someone could care about you this much, could want you around despite everything.

His expression softened even more, a sadness flickering behind his eyes. “You’re not a burden, Matilda. You never were, and you never will be. I want you here, with me. I need you here.” It was almost as if he was reading your mind.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But what if I mess up? What if I make things harder?”

Matty shook his head, squeezing your hands gently. “Then we’ll figure it out together. I’m not going to let anything get in the way now. Not even your doubts.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but for once, it wasn’t out of fear or sadness. It was a relief. Matty reached out and wiped the tear away, his touch gentle, like he was afraid you might break. “You’re stuck with me, babe. I don’t know what to tell you.” He said, lips pulling into a smile.

At that moment, something shifted between you, an unspoken understanding that you were no longer just two people navigating this confusing, painful world. You were a team—a family, bound together by something far stronger than blood or circumstance. It was love, pure and simple, and it was enough.

You leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be okay, that maybe you could find a way to be happy, despite everything.

And as you sat there in the quiet, the weight of the world lifting just a little, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn’t have to face them alone.

You had your dad, and he had you.

#woahhhh okay #the 1975 #x daughter!reader #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader

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dear-sigyn · 7 months

Text

THUNDER

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.4k 𝒂/𝒏: starting to write this during my exam period wasn't my brightest idea, nor was finishing it at 2am, but hey, better inspiration always comes late at night ;) 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none (that I think of)

You knew it was getting late, very late, and a quick glance at your watch confirmed that it was indeed already past 4am. The storm that showed up earlier in the evening was still raging outside, and each thunderclap resonated like a drum in your heart, preventing you from falling asleep.

At first, you told yourself that it was just the excessively loud noise keeping you awake, but the way your breath caught every time lightning tore through the sky told a different story: you were scared. Worse yet, you were terrified, and there was no use pretending otherwise - you wouldn’t find sleep tonight.

With a long sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed, moving around your room in search of the notebook where all your notes from yesterday are written. ‘If I have to pull an all-nighter, it might as well be a productive one,’ you thought.

However, as you turned your room upside down for your precious writings, you quickly realized they were nowhere to be found. Anxiety slowly began to grow in your chest, and suddenly, felt the weight of your worries about the upcoming heist bearing down on your shoulders.

In reality, it’s been a few days since you’ve started to dwell on everything that could go wrong. Even though the Professor's plan seems perfectly laid out, there are always external factors that we can't predict, right? But now is not the right time to worry about that.

Taking a deep breath and refocusing your thoughts, it only took 2 seconds to remember where they were, or rather, who had them.

And it was quite simple, really. After another ‘lesson’ with the Professor, Berlin asked you - not without adding a few inappropriate remarks throughout the conversation - if you could lend him your notes.

Despite his peculiar character, you got along quite well at your first encounter, and you quickly grew closer over the weeks spent together - perhaps a bit more than you should have knowing the rules - so you didn’t think too much before handing him your notebook. You had planned to pick it up later in the evening, but with the storm intensifying, you promptly retreated to your room without a word, hiding your head beneath your pillow to drown out the unsettling rumblings. It would certainly be very rude to disturb him in the middle of the night just to come pick them up, but that was the least of your concern at the moment, and the lack of sleep wasn’t making you think rationally anyway.

So without thinking too much about the consequences that your next decision might entail if you were ever caught, you decided to leave your room, quietly closing the door behind you, and tiptoed across the hallway.

As you arrived at his door, doubts began to form in your mind, but before they could consume you entirely you softly knocked on his door, being careful to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking others, while already anticipating his remarks about why you had come to see him this late at night.

And sure enough, when he finally opened the door the first thing you saw was a mischievous - and tired - smile forming on his lip as his eyes met yours, “Well, who do we have here? To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit at such a late hour, cariño?”

You took a breath to pull yourself together and smiled weakly back at him “Well, you see I’m sorry to bother you at this hour but it occurred to me that you have something of mine in your possession”. He raised an eyebrow, amused, “Is that so? And what could be so important that you must come knocking at my door at …” he glanced at his watch, “... almost 5 in the morning?”

His subtle sarcastic tone didn’t escape you; he knew exactly what you were talking about. Usually, you weren’t opposed to playing along with his little games, but the thunder that continued to rumble outside and the looming threat of another lightning strike approaching made your patience wear thin, “My notebook Berlin, I need my notebook now”, at that you saw his eyebrows furrowed, maybe your tone was a little too harsh, “... please.”

“Oh, you wound me, nena. Why the rush?” he said, feigning offense. But realizing that you were definitely not in the mood, he sighed and continued in a dramatic tone. “For your information, cariño, I had planned to return it to you last night. But that was before you dashed to your room like a flash, without even saying goodnight.”, he said, raising his hand to his heart. “Are you aware of the pain it caused me?”

At that, you scoffed, “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating? Don’t tell me you’re sulking because I didn’t say goodnight; that doesn’t sound like something you would do.” He shrugged and replied, “Maybe I am.”

You were about to retort when suddenly a particularly loud thunder was heard, making you jump and utter a cry. Feeling panic starting to overtake you, you were about to glance down the hallway to check if your reaction had woken anyone up, but you didn’t get the time. With a firm grip on your shoulders, he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind you.

You're unsure of what caused you to break down first—the sound of thunder that led to a completely ridiculous reaction in front of Berlin, his reluctance to return your notebook, the sleep deprivation, or the near-miss of being caught standing in the hallway in the middle of the night just to retrieve some notes. But you felt the first tear roll down your cheek, followed by a second, then a third, until cascades were flowing from your eyes.

When he realized the distress you were in, he tightened his arm around your shoulders, the other coming around your waist, enveloping you in a tight embrace. It was just what you needed to fully let go and release all your pent-up emotions.

While your cries increased, he gently hushed you, running his fingers through your hair. And after taking a few minutes to calm down, you finally spoke again, your voice muffled against his chest. “ … I don’t like storms,” you murmured, to which he responded with a low chuckle, “You don’t say, cariño.”

He loosened his grip to observe your face, but still feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole situation, you kept your head tucked against him. “Hey …” his hand delicately rested on your cheek, guiding your gaze toward his. “That’s it, look at me.”

“It’s not only the storm, is it?,” his fingers tenderly brushed away the remnants of your tears in a soothing gesture. You nodded slowly and tried once again to speak, but your throat tightened, preventing you from doing so, no sound coming out.

“Oh no, you don't have to tell me right now, but please don't shut yourself off from me or even the others like that anymore, hm ?”, he brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over your eyes, “It’s not good for you.” You nodded once again, leaning your head gently against his chest as you closed your eyes, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing. You then felt your own breathing becoming steadier and the tension gradually leaving your body.

You stayed in this position, in the middle of his room, for a moment, and as you were miraculously beginning to fall asleep, the sound of his voice snapped you out of your reverie. "You can stay and sleep here, if you want”, his suggestion was made in a quiet voice, as if he didn't want to rush you.

It was certainly a bad idea, but at the moment, it was the least of your worries. You felt so relaxed, so peaceful, that you murmured a nearly inaudible 'yes' to him but due to your proximity he heard it. Berlin carefuly guided you to his bed, settling you in, and pulled the covers up to your shoulders before settling in on the other side.Finally, you felt sleep starting to kick in. But before fully succumbing to it, you sensed arms embracing you, a soft kiss tenderly placed in your hair and a hand covering your ear blocking the sounds of the thunder outside. A faint smile appeared on your lips, for the first time since the storm began, you felt safe.

first writing done!! english is not my first langage so my sincere apologies for any mistakes I tried to be careful <3

#berlín x reader #berlin x reader #berlin x y/n #berlin x you #money heist #la casa de papel #berlin one shot #andrés de fonollosa #andrés de fonollosa x reader

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diazsdimples · 10 months

Text

Play me like a fiddle

Rating: E

Pairing: Eddie Diaz/ Evan "Buck" Buckley

Word Count: 34k

It's here!! Musician AU is finally here!!! This has been consuming me for weeks, and now, 34k words later, here it is. I genuinely feel like I've given birth. Please enjoy a small snippet below!

Soon, the orchestra falls silent and the lights in the auditorium dim, the low chattering of the audience fading away to nothingness as they sit and wait, anticipation building. There’s an echo of footsteps and Bobby strides onto stage, the audience breaking into applause as he takes the stand. He bows once and turns, gesturing for the Oboist to begin tuning.

The room is filled with the sounds of the instruments tuning and Eddie blows experimentally into his horn, adjusting it as it falls a little flat. Bobby waits until they’re all finished and gives Buck a small nod.

The audience applauds loudly as Buck takes the stage, strolling across it with a confidence Eddie can only dream of. There’s a few whistles and catcalls as he sits down, taking out the spike of his cello and settling it between his legs. There’s a smirk playing at the corner of Buck’s mouth as he raises his bow, eyes locked dead on to Bobby’s and begins to play.

The first few notes that burst from the cello are deep, rich and fill the room with their warmth. The orchestra follows along behind, the wind section playing in answer to the question Buck’s cello sends out and they’re away.

Eddie watches with awe as Buck plays, counting carefully so he doesn’t forget to come in. Buck’s eyes are closed, and his head is tipped back as he plays, the lights of the auditorium making his curls glow golden as he tosses his head. The look on his face is not dissimilar to the way he looks when he’s in the throes of his orgasm, as though the music is transporting him to another dimension. It’s passionate and full of emotion and Eddie can’t help but match it when he comes in, the music bursting proudly from his horn and sailing through the auditorium, filling it with the call and answer of the cello and the horn.

Bobby’s watching it all unfold with delight as he flicks his baton. He raises his hand, pointing to Eddie as he comes in and gestures for him to play louder, to let it all out and Eddie puffs out his chest, letting it all burst free from him. Buck’s head flicks up in an aborted movement to seek Eddie out across the stage and Eddie’s heart swells. There’s truly nothing more he wants to do than make music with Buck.

And then it’s just them playing, Buck scrubbing away furiously as Eddie concentrates hard on the passage. It’s exposed, high and difficult and he’s been practicing it for months.

Of course, he nails it, egged on by Buck’s performance, and he lets his breath go as he sits back, not due to come in for a few more moments. He catches Chimney’s eye from across the stage and the man sends him a surreptitious thumbs up across the stage.

The concerto lasts half an hour and the whole time, Eddie is mesmerised by Buck. If he thought Buck had been putting on a performance in rehearsals, nothing could have prepared him for what Buck would be like in the actual concert. The man is swaying so much Eddie worries his spike might slip free, and his bowing is so enthusiastic that a couple of the hairs break, hanging limply by the side as he skips the bow across the strings.

By time they’re playing the final few bars, Eddie’s sweating and he can see that Buck is too. His forehead is glistening, the light from the stage reflecting off it to make it look like he’s sparkling. They play through the final few bars and Buck and the orchestra finish with a flourish, Buck’s bowing arm up in the air as his chest heaves, breathing hard. Instantly the audience erupts into applause, louder than Eddie thinks he’s ever heard before. There’s whooping and cheering and it’s like a roar in Eddie’s ears, drowning out all other noise. Buck stands up, beaming from ear to ear, and takes a bow as Bobby stands next to him. They go through the motions post-solo, the conductor and soloist leaving the stage, coming back on, leaving again, going through this at least 3 times until a woman from the 1st violins comes up to Buck shyly and hands him a bunch of flowers.

Read the rest on ao3

#buddie #musician au #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #evan buck buckely #911 fanfic #eddie x buck #911 #buddie fic #buddie 911 #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie #buddie ao3 #911 fic #911 fandom #911 ao3

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marinawolf · 1 year

Note

Lena has her theories. Like a good scientist, she devises “scientific” experiments to collect data…it’s just convenient this is more exhilarating than outright asking the question to the appropriate person: is Kara Danvers a boob or an ass girl?

Let it be known, this popped into my mind because of your reblog of Supergirl daydreaming about Lena in the throes of passion (likely by Kara’s own doing 😉💋)

okay first, we have to admit that the creator of that post blessed us all. second, this was hilarious to write. I had so much fun. here you go:

It's for Science (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

Lena Luthor, the scientific genius and CEO of L-Corp and Catco, found herself embroiled in a daring experiment. The subject? Her best friend and secret crush, Kara Danvers. Lena was determined to discover one crucial piece of information: was Kara a boob or an ass girl?

Of course, Lena couldn't just outright ask Kara about her preferences. No, that would be far too direct and potentially awkward. Instead, she decided to employ her scientific mind to devise a series of "experiments" to collect data and draw her conclusions.

It all started innocently enough. Lena strategically chose her outfits, opting for outfits that accentuated her assets. She made sure to occasionally drop something in front of Kara, bending down slowly to retrieve the item. Lena even went so far as to discreetly unbutton the top of her shirt, providing a subtle glimpse of cleavage whenever she was around Kara. For science, of course.

But Kara, being Kara, was oblivious to Lena's attempts. Lena had, however, garnered the attention of many others in her office, who were captivated by her attempts, much to her dismay. However, Lena was determined to provoke a reaction from her friend, and she wasn't about to give up.

One day, during a lunch break at CatCo, Lena brought in an array of donuts. She strategically placed a tray of donuts right in front of Kara, leaning over Kara's desk, giving her a full view down her unbuttoned shirt. Lena's heart raced as she watched Kara's eyes widen with delight at the sight of the delicious treats.

Lena waited with bated breath, hoping for a telling reaction.

To Lena's dismay, Kara simply reached for a chocolate-covered donut without a second thought. Lena tried to hide her disappointment.

Later, at the DEO, after Lena had "dropped" her pen in front of Kara, Alex sidled up to her, sipping a coffee.

"Why are you bending down like a stripper in front of my sister? That's like the third time tonight."

Lena flushed her mind suddenly unable to formulate an explanation.

"Don't worry," Alex continued, laughing, "She notices. The first time, she actually walked into a glass wall. Luckily it was reinforced, so it didn't shatter"

Lena's heart leapt but still, she wasn't convinced. She hadn't seen Kara react at all, and as a scientist, she needed to see her results first hand to believe it.

But she refused to give up. She couldn't let a few failed experiments deter her from her quest for knowledge. It was for science, and she was committed to science.

It was during a cozy movie night at Lena's penthouse that she decided to execute her most daring experiment yet. As they settled onto the couch, Lena discreetly unbuttoned her shirt, exposing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. She observed Kara out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her reaction without being too obvious.

To her delight, Lena noticed Kara stealing glances her way throughout the movie. The sight of Kara's eyes lingering on her filled Lena's heart with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Perhaps her experiment was indeed yielding results.

As the movie progressed, Lena's heart raced, waiting for the perfect opportunity to reveal itself. She couldn't concentrate on the film, her mind consumed by the thrilling prospect of finally getting an answer to her burning question.

Just when Lena thought she couldn't wait any longer, Kara's hand brushed against hers in the darkness of the room. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through Lena's veins, and she turned to look at Kara, their eyes locking in an intense gaze.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kara leaned in and pressed her lips against Lena's, kissing her with a desperate longing that took Lena by surprise. The intensity of the moment left them breathless as they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I've been dying to do that all week," Kara admitted, her voice filled with a mix of desire and relief.

Lena's heart fluttered, her experiment having unexpectedly led her to this extraordinary outcome.

But still, she didn't know: Was Kara a boob or an ass girl?

Months later, as Lena lay in bed, her arms wrapped around a sleepy Kara, she finally asked the question.

And Kara's response made her heart flutter.

"I'm a you girl."

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #fanfic #kara zor el #kara x lena #supercorp first kiss #archive of our own #kara danvers x lena luthor #kara zor el x lena luthor #supercorp fluff #alex danvers #Lena is a scientist #it's for science

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rougepancake · 1 year

Text

CRYING CAUSE WHAT IF-

FT. Jotaro Kujo

WARNINGS: angsty fluff. Please tell me you see the vision too and that I’m not just going crazy.

“Jotaro… do you think things will be like this forever?” You ask as your back hits the grass, your eyes focused on the beautiful stars of the night sky above you.

It’s always been like this.

It’s always been you and him, against the world.

He scoffed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before answering you. “That’s a dumb question.” Though, he couldn’t help but wonder the same.

“I know,” your voice came out as strained, and you had to turn your head away from his so that you could hide your quivering lip. “But I just don’t know what I’d do with myself if things changed…”

You were met with silence, and it only worsened your grief. Your high school years weren’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to go off and discover who you wanted to become in life, and to grow as a person. You were supposed to enjoy what little youth you had left, not have it torn away from you so quickly.

Jotaro wanted to tell you that it would stay the same. He wanted to say that he would always be here for you, but he’d be lying.

After all, the both of you had totally different plans for yourselves after graduation.

He was supposed to go to university and you were going to travel. You had tried to convince him to come with you, to see the world in all its glory, but he refused.

If he had gone, he never would have come back, and he couldn’t do that to his mother.

“Yeah. We’ll be stuck together for a long while.”

Finally, after all your time going abroad, you’ve come back home to the place you grew up.

You’re in your forties now, and aren’t exactly as young as you once were, but you haven’t changed a bit since you left. Many people had recognized you, and had smiled when you walked past them on the street.

But it just didn’t feel right.

Actually, you felt more alone than you typically did while on your journeys.

Was it because you had just passed your former high school? Or was it that every man you passed reminded you of Jotaro and your time in Egypt?

Either way, something felt off.

“Y/n?”

You spun around as quickly as possible, your eyes wide in anticipation as you met the man that had consumed your every thought since you left.

“Jotaro.” You grinned, and your gaze moved to the young woman that stood behind him, awkwardly looking away from you. Ah. So he did get married after all. “It’s good to see you again.”

Wow this was awkward.

“We should meet up later, or something,” he avoided your gaze, which you found to be strange. “A-Actually- can you come over?”

Did he just stutter??

The woman behind him snickered and he rolled his eyes. “What I mean is that you and I have a lot of catching up to do,” he paused, his eyes finally meeting yours in a way that made your heart melt. “And… I’d like for things to be how they were. If you’re alright with that, of course.”

“Jotaro Kujo,” you smiled brightly, barely able to contain your tears of joy. “I’ve been waiting years to hear you say those words.”

#I’m going through it rn man I’m not well (I’m fine I’ve just got early fall depression)#fuck man I’m really living it up at uni #I need like a hug or some bs JENSNNSNWNSMA #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jjba angst #jjba x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader

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butlervol6 · 2 years

Text

the baby talk | dad(to be) austin x reader

previous part here!!

pairing: austin x fem!reader

summary: reader finally feels ready to have a baby with austin….but worries the timing might not work out

warnings/notes: some angst? (reader overthinking, s/o all my fellow anxiety babies), a tiny tiny bit suggestive at the end. so sorry this took so long, the last month has been eventful to say the least and i’m just getting time to finish this. thank you SO SO much for over 900(!!!WHAT) notes on my first work and so many followers, i never expected so many people to enjoy my writing. i’m toying with the idea of attempting to write smut, lmk your thoughts (i would make it a separate pt so the under18 can still enjoy the rest of the series)!! thank you all again, send me requests/messages/questions i love talking to ya’ll, and ENJOY PART 2!!

words: 2.2k

On the drive home from Ashley’s you were buzzing from the excitement of meeting Jupiter as well as the anticipation of telling Austin that you felt ready to start trying for a baby. You knew he was going to be ecstatic, it was obvious that while he was always extremely supportive and understanding of your point of view the last time you spoke about it, there was a part of him that was initially disappointed when you expressed your decision to wait to have kids. He was good at masking it, not wanting to make you feel bad for a completely rational and understandable decision, but you knew him well enough to see past his facade and couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for being the one to put starting a family on hold.

That disappointment for him and guilt from yourself didn’t last long though, as he landing his ‘Elvis’ role no more than six months after that conversation took place. Now, two years later, you could not have imagined trying to navigate a little one during the stress of the pandemic and a filming process like Elvis. Despite being very stable and annoyingly in love your entire relationship, never once considering separating, being newlyweds was still incredible stressful during that time so you knew you both shared a mutual, unspoken feeling of relief for the decision you made.

Looking over at your husband as he drove, you start to try and come up with a way to approach the conversation when you got home, wanting to make it as special as possible. Usually you pride yourself on your creativity as well as your apt for being excellent at surprises, but in this moment there was not a single idea in your head. You were completely perplexed, and growing increasingly frustrated, at your inability to come up with a suitable way to start the conversation. This must have been evident on your face as Austin glanced over and caught you looking his way, a small frown on your face and eyebrows pulled together in deep thought,

“Baby?” You, so consumed by your spiralling thinking, don’t notice when first he addresses you, “Y/N?” He places a hand on yours resting on the center console, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles to gently bring your focus back to reality, “What’s going on in your head darlin’? You’ve been so quiet this whole drive–makin’ me nervous.” He drawls, attention shifting between the road and you, waiting for your answer. You try to quickly recover, as to not tip him off about the impending conversation,

“Sorry baby, I’m alright. I think the adrenaline and excitement from the day is finally wearing off so I’m a little tired.” Austin eyes you, not quite convinced but decides not to push it any further. You can see this fact evident on his face so you smoothly change the subject so he doesn’t have room to figure out the real reason you’re acting weird, “What about you? Did you have a good day Uncle Austin? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” Being reminded of his picture perfect day, surrounded by his favourite girls, immediately distracts him from your odd behaviour,

“It was everything I imagined and more. Jupiter is just perfect–I can’t believe she’s real, and finally seeing Ashley again after so long was perfect, and you being there with me to share it all was-“

“Perfect?” You find his excited rambling extremely sweet but you can’t help but tease him. He bites his bottom lip smiling, slightly embarrassed by his own words. You lean over, grabbing the far side of his face to press a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before speaking again, “I’m not trying to embarrass you, love. I’m just teasing you, I loved seeing you so happy today.” You absentmindedly smooth your thumb back and forth along his cheekbone as you speak. The loving gesture and kind words make him smile, ducking his head down slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist that hovers near his mouth,

“I was so happy. I am so happy, y/n. Everything just seems to be working out lately—my career, my family and friends, you. I just can’t believe it all.” You can feel your cheeks start to hurt from how large your smile is. After experiencing firsthand the type of stress Austin had been under the last two years; completely immersing himself in his role, being away from all of his family and friends, the pandemic, you were overjoyed that he was finally feeling the beginnings of the pay off of it all. And you knew this would only increase as the press for the movie and the fan reaction began.

It was at this thought that your happiness and excitement momentarily faltered. Since your realization at Ashley’s, you had failed to fully considered how much was going to change after Elvis came out. From watching the transformation your husband made, you knew that people were finally going to take notice of him and, as a result, his popularity was going to sky-rocket. There wasn’t a cell in your body that didn’t want that for Austin, he deserves to finally be recognize as the incredible actor and person that he is, but you did start to worry that having a baby in the mids of it all these new changes could be just as bad as having one in the middle of filming. To quell your small disappointment and spike in anxiety, you lean your head on Austin’s shoulder as he turns onto the last road to get to your house.

It’s obvious now that something more is wrong than what you originally let on so Austin presses a kiss to your hairline and mumbles, “You wanna get some food and talk about it when we get home?” You sigh, nodding and snuggling into his arm for the remainder of the ride.

…

After taking the remnants of your takeout to the kitchen, you make you way back to the couch where Austin is sitting, arms outstretched along the back and his head leaned back. The credits of the show you were watching play on the tv so you pick up the remote and pause it before sitting down against him, tucking your legs up and leaning your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head,

“What’s goin’ on in your head, pretty girl?” You lift your head up and slightly turn your body in his grasp to look at him fully, he smooths his palm up and down your arm as he speaks. The weight and warmth of his hand against your bare skin grounds you as your open your mouth to speak,

“I was- I guess I just-” You pause for a moment, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to get your thoughts together, “I had a thought earlier today, about us, and built it all up in my head before I really considered it. I’ll be alright, I’m just a little annoyed at myself for getting carried away. And, honestly, I’m kinda sad about it too.” Austin watches your face as you speak, brows slightly furrowed as he takes in your words. You know you were vague and he is probably more than a little confused, but you can’t bring yourself to say exactly what you were thinking, tears already threatening behind your eyes.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry you’re upset. Do you think you could explain your thought to me? Maybe there’s somethin’ you didn’t think of that I can do to help.” As you gaze into his eyes, your heart swells with love for the man in front of you. You are so grateful to have him as partner in life, always so kind and attentive to your needs. You look down to your lap for a moment, clearing your throat and parting your lips to unleash the uncensored truth but the words stay lodged in your throat. Emotion starts to swell within you, hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and you look to Austin. He gently brushes your cheek with the back of his fingers, “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.” A tear slips from your eye at his reassurance and you quickly wipe it away,

“I wanted to have a baby.” The second the words leave your mouth you can feel Austin tense beside you. Terrified that he is going to get upset you quickly continue, “Don’t worry, I know that we can’t and I promise I’ll get over it I just need some time an-” Austin silences you by leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. You melt into the kiss after a moment of surprise, focusing on the warmth of his mouth against yours and the hand that now rests under your chin. He pulls away slowly, as if moving too fast could scare you away,

“You really wanna to have a baby with me? Oh my god y/n, that’s amazing! When did you change your mind?” He scoots closer to you on the couch and runs his fingers through your hair. His eyes are bright, excited, and that flares your upset once again—he’s not listening. You furrow your eyebrows and you gently push his hand from your hair.

“Austin, we can’t. I just told you that’s why I’m upset.” Austin tries to interrupt but you stop him, wiping at your wet, blotchy cheeks, “You were absolutely perfect with Jupiter and I could see how ready you are, and that made me ready. But, everyone is finally going to see how incredible you are when this movie comes out and I want you to have your moment in the spotlight. This has been your dream your entire career, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I put that in jeopardy by being selfish.”

“Y/n, you and our family are my dream. There will never be a ‘perfect’ time to have a baby, all that matters is whether or not we both want it. And it’s not ‘selfish’ to want it.” Austin grasps your chin, turning your face and making you look him in the eyes. “Do you wanna have a baby with me?” You plead with your eyes and stutter to answer,

“Aus, it’s not that simple. I-“ He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you, and softly laughs,

“Hey, none of that. Just answer the question.” You sigh in defeat and pull his hand away from your mouth and into your lap before responding,

“Yes, I want to have a baby with you.” Because you do, there is nothing you want more than to grow the love between him and you by bringing a baby into the world.

“And I want to have a baby with you. So let’s do it. If we both want it then we'll make it work. ” You gaze into the eyes of the man you love as he speaks and all you see is unfiltered love and excitement. It’s in this moment that you believe what he says, because you can see how much he believes it himself. If you love each other and you both want to start this journey together, then everything else can be dealt with as it comes. At this realization, you finally allow yourself feel the excitement you experienced earlier in the day, a large smile spreading across your face.

“You promise that it’s really what you want? I don’t want you to agree just because I’m upset.” Austin tilts his head back and laughs, a deep rumbling in his chest. You nudge him in the ribs, causing him to let out an ‘hey!’, and can’t help but laugh along with him, “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! What’s so funny anyway?”

“Y/n, you’re kidding right?” He leans in, suddenly serious and slings his arms around you again, speaking lowly, “I think I’ve made it pretty obvious how much I would love to get you pregnant, baby.” He trails kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck, your eyes fluttering closed and lips softly parting. After a moment of getting lost in each other, Austin pulls back–a smug smirk on his face to look at you. With your eyes still closed you say,

“Okay, let’s do it.” Before you can even process what’s happen, you’re being lifted into the air and your eyes fly open meet Austin’s gaze. You wrap your arms around him as he carries you toward the stairs, a glint in his bright blue eyes, “Um—where are we going?”

“To get started.” He reaches the top of the stairs, looking down at you in his arms, “If we don’t get a baby in you right now, how am I gonna have a hot wife with a cute little baby bump as my date to the Met Gala?” You’re momentarily shocked at his words, and you can tell by the devilish look on his face that while he’s joking, he also isn’t. You shake your head, a smile on your lips, as he pushes the door to your bedroom open.

All you get out is, “can’t argue with that”, before you squeal as he tosses you onto the bed.

next part here!!

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