#t;it was clearly written in her face

[foxy-eva]

Cuddle Buddies

Summary: Spencer misinterprets the meaning of the term friends with benefits – but having a friend who will cuddle with him is, in fact, highly beneficial

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: suggestiveness (referenced/implied sex), embarrassment, awkwardness

Word count: 1k

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge!

Masterlist

“Tell me, pretty boy. What’s going on with you and her?” Derek teased his coworker while motioning towards your desk.  

Acting like you didn't hear him, you kept your eyes focussed on the paperwork in front of you. But of course you were interested in Spencer’s answer too. For weeks you had been trying to figure out the nature of your relationship (or friendship?) with him. 

“We’re friends,” Spencer said and thought about his own response before adding, “With benefits.” 

Spencer, oblivious as ever, had heard that term before but didn't know its true meaning. The two of you were friends who occasionally cuddled with each other – something Spencer would consider as highly beneficial to the wellbeing for the both of you. 

His words caught the attention of everyone in the room. The snickering and whispering followed the second he finished his sentence. You could no longer pretend you weren't listening as you felt your cheeks heating up.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked, clearly embarrassed by what he had just stated. 

It was not like you hadn’t thought about it before. In fact, most nights when you ended up cuddled up with Spencer under a blanket while continuing your Doctor Who rewatch, it had crossed your mind. But it had never happened and you weren’t sure why Spencer would lie about it. 

Spencer found your eyes, immediately noticing the horror written all over your face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“We’re not friends with benefits,” you mumbled, still in disbelief about what was happening. 

Derek couldn't hold back his chuckles anymore but JJ seemed to feel sorry for you and chimed in on the conversation. “Spence, I’m not sure you know the actual meaning of that term.”

She stepped closer to him before whispering what you assumed was the correct definition of friends with benefits. Once he realized his mistake, his facial features changed and could only be described as panicked. 

“That's not what I meant,” he stated what already was obvious. To deflect from the awkwardness, he started doing what he was most comfortable with - rambling. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that's what it meant. Our friendship does have benefits though, specifically the cuddling aspect. Did you know that nonsexual physical contact is very common among social animals? There are many health benefits to it, like lowering blood pressure, the release of oxytocin and –”

Your unit chief stepped into the room to interrupt Spencer and finally end your misery. “Guys, we have a new case.”

Spencer had to hold back a sigh of relief that this painfully awkward situation had come to an end. Both of you tried your best to not let it affect your workday, keeping up your professional demeanor in front of your coworkers. But neither of you could hold back the occasional glance at the other. 

It was hard to interpret Spencer’s expression when his eyes met yours. He had an apologetic look but there was also something else. Almost as if he had trouble holding back his thoughts from wandering to places that were completely inappropriate at work. 

You were very familiar with those struggles. 

It didn’t surprise you to hear him knocking on your hotel room door once your workday had come to an end. Spencer was predictable and you knew that he was about to apologize for embarrassing you earlier. 

When you opened the door, you immediately stepped aside to let him into your room. He had already shed his work attire and changed into sweatpants and an old Caltech t-shirt – a look not many people beside you got to see on him. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Spencer finally found the courage to talk. 

“I’m sorry about what I said,” he mumbled. 

You showed him a soft smile and responded, “Yeah, I know.” 

“Are you mad at me?”

The question amused you. To you it was almost impossible to be mad at Spencer. You were aware that he never had any intention of hurting you. In fact, looking back you almost found his innocence and lack of discretion endearing. 

You shook your head. “Of course not.” 

Spencer sighed when you reached out your arms to hug him. He reciprocated the contact, immediately pulling you into his arms and holding you closely against his chest. There were many things left unsaid but talking about your feelings wasn’t really one of your strong suits. So you decided to suggest what the two of you seemed to be most comfortable with. 

You motioned over to your bed and said, “Do you maybe want to stay and watch a movie with me?” 

His smile was genuine when he responded, “Yes, I would love that.”

It was almost like the two of you followed muscle memory when you slipped under the duvet and turned on the TV. You found your place inside Spencer’s arms, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thumps of his heart. His fingertips gently brushed over your arm, leaving goosebumps on their path. 

Despite the positive effects Spencer explained about cuddling earlier, it was impossible for you to fully relax that night. He noticed it, too. 

“You okay?” He breathed as he turned down the volume of the TV. 

Before you could think about it too long, you heard your mouth spill out the question that had been nagging you all day. “Do you sometimes think about those other, more exciting benefits?” 

Spencer audibly gulped before clearing his throat. Instead of answering your question, he retorted, “Do you?” 

You shifted your position until you sat beside him and said, “Would it be weird if I said yes?” 

It seemed like your confession took him by surprise. Spencer took a moment to think about his response. First his eyebrows furrowed, then his facial features softened again. “It’s not weird. I think about it, too, sometimes.” 

That was all the confirmation you needed to boost your confidence for once. With your hand gently placed on his jaw, you leaned closer to him until you could feel the heat of his breath against your mouth. Spencer didn’t hesitate to close the gap between the two of you, finding your lips in a tender kiss. 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @loaksulluyswife @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @bunnylovesani @spenciesslut @billie-lover8 @indyvelazquez @evrmorets

[torakowalski]

Continued from here but heading all the way back to the beginning. (Not yet) Olympic Swimmer Steve, Hawkins Public Pool, summer 1986:

Eddie isn't a natural swimmer, but he has to find some way to regain the strength those fucking bats took. So when he finds out that Steve and Max are both doing their physio in the public pool, he blows Wayne's mind by demanding he goes to Melvalds and buys Eddie some swim trunks.

Not that Eddie is a follower. But if the rest of Team Rehab is in the pool, then Eddie is gonna be in the pool too.

The problem is that now Eddie is in the pool. He's wet, he's exhausted, and he's wearing nothing except what's basically soaked, clingy underwear, while Steve fucking Harrington looks majestic and gorgeous, swimming lengths not ten feet away.

"It's better through binoculars," says Max. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, even more tired out that Eddie is. Eddie is half taking a break and half making sure she doesn't slide off the side and drown.

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"Steve. Shirtless. It's hotter through binoculars."

Eddie has one second of limb-freezing, stomach-tightening terror, the same second he always gets, no matter whether someone is being too perceptive or whether he's deliberately outing himself.

He makes himself breath through it.

"Jesus Christ, Maxine," he says and gets kicked in the back for his troubles. He'd like to think the kick is gentle because she's worried about his injuries, but it's probably just the hardest she can kick, right now. "Maybe I'm looking at his form."

Max laughs. "Well, yeah."

Eddie gives up. He looks over his shoulder at her. She has the expression of a person who is cool about you being queer and also wants you to know that she's cool about you being queer and also is fifteen and doesn't want to have fucked up.

Eddie makes himself be brave back. "Is it me or is he just getting more built, while you and I flounder around over here, just trying to regain any muscles at all?"

"He's here like, all the time," Max says. "Like hours before us and hours after we go home. He says it turns his brain off."

Eddie can kind of see that; it's definitely harder to think about all the shit that went down at spring break when you're busy trying not to get chlorinated water up your nose.

"Doesn't he have his own pool though? I'm damn sure he has his own pool."

Max shrugs. "I think it got earthquaked." She lifts her head, using a hand to shield her eyes. "Hey, who's that?"

Eddie looks where she's looking and sees a middle aged dude in red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt squat down at the far end of the pool, catching Steve's attention when he surfaces after what must be his fiftieth length in a row.

They're too far away to hear what's being said, but Steve pushes his hair back off his face and bobs in place, clearing listening hard. They talk for a while, long enough that Eddie and Max both start shifting, Max - like Eddie - clearly wondering if they need to stage a rescue.

Then the guy nods to Steve and stands up, walking away, while Steve turns, looking around.

When he spots Eddie and Max, he swims over, all long, and golden and wet.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks, when Steve pops up next to them. "Trouble?"

"No." Steve shakes his head, clear drops of pool water flying from the ends of his hair. "No, he's a swim coach here. He says I'm good."

"Duh," says Eddie.

"You know you're good," says Max.

Steve grins. He does know he's good; it's written all over his face. But so is some bafflement and Eddie doesn't think that's faked.

"Yeah, but like, he wants to train me. He thinks I could compete?"

"Like at the Olympics?" Eddie asks, not totally sure where else swimming people go to swim.

Steve laughs, but only a little meanly. "Jumping a hell of a lot of steps there, Munson. But maybe State? I could maybe do State? I was supposed to be at tryouts last year, but." He shrugs.

"But Billy gave you a massive concussion," Max fills in for him.

Steve shrugs again.

Max kicks him, about as hard as she kicked Eddie. "You better have said yes to that guy or so help me I'll crawl after him myself."

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but they're sparkling. He looks excited, pleased in a way that Eddie hasn't seen for months. "Yeah," he says. "I said yes."

(Part three now here)

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 6

Love Drunk

prompt: dizzy, drunken confessions | wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: alcohol | tags: platonic stobin, steve has a crush on eddie, pining, jealousy, love confessions, friends to lovers | also on ao3

  "Steeeve, I really don’t think this is a good idea.“ Robin grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back.

   "Oh, but it is a great idea, actually! The best idea I ever had!“

Steve has to concentrate hard not to trip over his tongue, to pronounce each word clearly.

He’s drunk. Like, really drunk. Drunk as in - the floor’s moving like he’s standing on a boat rocking on the shore and the world around him is turning too fast.

He knows he’s had too much but that doesn’t keep him from downing another shot.

Steve needs it, needs the courage. Because he has a plan.

   "You’re gonna regret it, Steve. And then I’ll have to listen to you whine and complain and you’re gonna blame me for not holding you back! I can’t let you do this.“

    My sweet Robin.

He’ll thank her later for this. For trying to talk some sense into him. She’s his best friend in the world. And usually, he knows he’s always better off listening to her advice. Because Robin is smart as hell. He’s lucky to have her. She loves him, always has his best interest at heart.

Steve turns around to look at her, can’t fight the urge to boop her on the nose.

   “You’re cute,” he says completely out of context and while he can see the confusion on her blurry face, she still laughs at the notion.

   “Well, you’re not,” she says and Steve pouts.

   “Don’t you love me anymooore?”

    God, Steve sounds like a kid even to his own ears. How pathetic.

He’s always been an emotional drunk.

That’s probably why, when he caught sight of Eddie laughing at something this- this random guy standing too close to him must’ve said, Steve suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from under his feet.

   “You know I do. That’s why I’m telling you not to do anything stupid.” Robin says sternly, seemingly unimpressed by the emotional turmoil raging in his mind.

The thing is, technically, he knows she’s right. Sober Steve would listen to Robin without hesitation. Would let her take him home and comfort him while he pours his heart out to her.

But Drunk Steve?

Drunk Steve is as bold as he is stupid.

Drunk Steve has a mind of his own, steered by a heart that is too loud for any sensible thoughts to come through.

He can’t stop himself from staring, from watching Eddie through the open kitchen door that leads to the other room, where the music is loud and everyone’s having a great time.

Everyone, including Eddie and random guy, who’s touching Eddie’s arm, smiling and batting his lashes at him. He’s flirting with Eddie, undoubtedly. And Eddie clearly doesn’t mind, going by the way he keeps moving closer to the other guy, holding his gaze, reciprocating his touch.

That’s just-

Not okay.

He needs to do something.

Like, right now.

   “’m jus’ gonna talk to him,” Steve announces to Robin without looking at her.

She sighs, and he knows Robin has accepted her defeat when she finally lets go of his arm.

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He barely catches her last words before making his way over to where Eddie and Rando are standing, careful not to stumble because the floor is uneven. Or maybe there’s something wrong with his feet? Who knows. Doesn’t matter, he’s on a mission.

Slowly and on wobbly legs, he makes his way through the spinning party crowd until he finally reaches his destination.

As if he can sense his presence, Eddie turns around immediately, while the guy next to him is throwing metaphorical daggers at Steve for interrupting their conversation.

   “Steve? Are you okay?” Eddie sounds concerned for some reason but Steve can’t find it in him to question it, not when Eddie holds out a hand and touches his shoulder.

Not when the hand on his arm feels so nice. And keeps him steady. Keeps his body from swaying.

    Why is the floor moving so much?

   “Do you need to sit down?”

Before Steve can wonder why Eddie would ask him that, he’s losing his balance, feels his knees give out and then all of a sudden, everything goes dark.

   “There you are.”

Steve blinks his eyes open, tries to focus his vision on the figure looming above him.

There’s something cold and damp on his forehead and a warm hand caressing his cheek.

   “Wha’ happened?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and his mouth is dry and there’s a nasty aftertaste of tequila on his tongue.

    Ugh.

Steve tries to push himself up from where he’s lying on... a bed? But he fails, feels dizzy, and slumps right back down.

   “Careful, Stevie. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

It is only now Steve realises who is talking to him. Who is sitting beside him at the edge of the bed with a hand pressed to the washcloth on his forehead to keep it in place.

   “Eddie?”

    Oh fuck.

Robin will never let him live that down.

   “The one and only,” Eddie smiles and although Steve feels like absolute shit, he can’t help but return the gesture.

   “Where are we?”

The room is only dimly lit by a bedside lamp, with the door closed and the curtains pulled shut. Steve can hear the music coming from the party still going on downstairs.

   “Linda allowed me to take you to her room after that little stunt you pulled.”

Eddie must sense his confusion because before Steve can ask what he means, he continues.

   “You blacked out. Kinda fell right into my arms,” he chuckles. “I caught you before you went down and brought you up here. I asked Jeremy to find Robin and tell her what happened but I guess he... was a bit mad at me for leaving.”

    Oh god.

Steve remembers now.

Jeremy must be the guy Eddie was talking to.

He can’t blame him for being pissed, though he’s probably not mad at Eddie but rather at Steve for interrupting their little- whatever it was.

   “Sorry for ruining your date,” Steve says quietly, shame creeping up inside.

It’s what he wanted, isn’t it? That was his plan.

Not to faint! But to disrupt whatever flirting game random guy, Jeremy, thought he had going on. But now that he’s slowly coming to his senses, he can’t help but to feel guilty for it.

   “Ah, it’s fine. He’ll live.”

Eddie grins, doesn’t sound mad at all which is good but the fact that he didn’t deny that it was, in fact, a date, makes Steve’s stomach turn into knots.

Because while he’s definitely still drunk, Sober Steve is slowly trying to force his way into his conscious, crawling through the fog still clinging to his mind. And with that comes the realisation of how stupid his plan was.

If he hadn’t blacked out, he would’ve told Eddie that he-

    Godfuckingdamn, this would’ve ended in a catastrophe.

Eddie doesn’t like Steve like that. They’re friends, nothing more.

And Steve would’ve ruined it all.

He knows he can’t keep his tongue in check when it’s loose from alcohol and still, consciously made the decision to go over the limit anyway.

How could he be so stupid? So recklessly putting their friendship on the line for- what? A rejection?

Steve should’ve listened to Robin. She tried to warn him, tried to save him from embarrassing himself but of course, he didn’t listen.

Now Eddie is sitting here next to him in depressing silence instead of being with-

   “You should go looking for him.”

   “For who?”

   “Jeremy? I’m fine now. Thanks for looking after me.”

Eddie’s hand slips away from Steve’s forehead and there’s a change in his expression that Steve doesn’t know how to read. He looks... disappointed? Kind of hurt in a way, and Steve doesn’t know why.

   “I’ll go looking for Robin and ask her to take me home. Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time than I already have.”

The words feel like acid on his tongue because they’re lies. He’d want nothing more than to stay here with Eddie a little while longer. Hell, he’d spend the whole night alone with Eddie if he could.

But he can’t because it wouldn’t be fair to keep Eddie to himself when he could be out there having a good time.

Doesn’t matter that it hurts like a bitch to imagine Eddie going home with that guy at the end of the night.

To imagine someone else’s hands on his body, someone else’s lips on his mouth.

To imagine someone else getting to have all these things Steve would die for.

   “You’re not wasting my time, Steve. Never. I love spending time with you.”

Eddie smiles again, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and it’s way too much for Steve’s weak little heart to handle.

   “You can’t say things like that, Eds.” Steve says because he needs Eddie to stop making his heart flutter.

   “Why not?”

   “Because I might take advantage of it.”

    What the fuck? Shut your mouth before you say something even more stupid.

Steve finally manages to sit up, head still feeling heavy but at least the wooziness is gone.

With his new seating position, Eddie is suddenly so much closer than before.

They’re sitting next to each other, arms and legs touching, and Steve has to force himself not to lean into the warmth radiating off Eddie’s body.

   “I wouldn’t mind.” Eddie says while he fumbles with his rings, eyes focused on his own hands.

It’s like he purposely avoids looking at Steve.

   “Oh, you would,” Steve insists. “Because I’d want too much.”

Eddie looks back up, tilts his head to the side.

   “What do you mean?”

Steve feels sick.

Not from the booze but from the violent fluttering sensation in his gut – he’s worried he’ll throw up butterflies if he opens his mouth.

   “I-“

He feels dizzy again, this time for reasons he’s not willing to confess.

Eddie’s gaze is piercing. It’s like he is trying to look right through him, searching for the truth that’s locked away in Steve’s heart. Barely held back from pouring out, thrashing behind bars that slowly crack and crumble as Steve loses himself in Eddie’s eyes.

His emotions swim in a sea of tequila and beer. He feels light-headed and the room is spinning again but this time, it’s because Steve feels drunk on Eddie.

   “I have a big, fat crush on you.”

It’s out. Just like that. And nothing bad happens. The world still revolves around the sun, people downstairs are still having fun, and Eddie doesn’t tell him to fuck off.

Instead, Eddie takes his face in both hands and looks him deep in the eyes.

   “Is this drunk you talking? Or do you mean it?”

Steve allows himself to lean into the warmth of Eddie’s palm, and smiles.

   “Both? I mean it. But I wouldn’t have told you if I hadn’t drowned my last functioning brain cells in Tequila,” Steve says honestly and his heart makes a funny thing when Eddie snorts at his words.

   “You’re lucky you’re cute, Stevie. I can’t believe Robin let you off the leash like that.”

   “Hey!” Steve protests with a light push to Eddie’s chest, absently lets his hand linger where he can feel Eddie’s heart beat hard and fast beneath his palm.

   “Just for your information, she did tell me it was a bad idea. But I saw you with that guy and-“

    Oops.

That’s not what he wanted to say.

   “Oooh, so you got drunk because you were jealous, huh?” Eddie wags his brows and it looks so dorky, Steve can’t help but laugh.

   “No! Okay maybe. But-“

Steve only now realises that Eddie’s hands are still cupping his face. That Eddie hasn’t pulled away; he’s still touching him, still so close there’s barely any room between them. This is too close. And although it feels good, Steve knows it isn’t right.

   “Listen, Eddie. I know that this isn’t mutual. And I guess- well, I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us? I like you, Eddie. A lot. And I- I hope we can still be friends, des-“

  “Woah, hold on, Stevie!”

Suddenly, Eddie’s expression turns serious and Steve feels like his heart stops as he holds his breath, waiting for whatever comes next.

   “Before you jump to conclusions, I gotta confess something, too. I might also have a big, fat, stupid crush on you.”

Eddie’s hands move to the back of Steve’s neck, fingers curling into his hair in this kind of gentle but demanding way that makes Steve shiver.

   “I just didn’t think I’d have a chance.“

He moves closer, so close their noses are touching. Steve’s heart does that thing again, flips and kicks and he can feel Eddie’s do the same.

It makes him feel bold.

   “Can I kiss you?”

Steve wouldn’t even be mad if Eddie said no. He probably smells like a distillery and he looks like shit and his mouth is so dry because-

    God, why did I drink so much?

   “Only if I can kiss you, too.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a response, just closes the remaining distance between their lips, tentatively and almost shy. But the way he digs his fingers deeper into Steve’s hair and pulls shows a desperation that matches Steve’s own.

Steve, who clings to Eddie with both arms wrapped tight around him, kissing him, touching him, losing himself in the moment.

He’s breathless when they part.

   “You good?” Eddie asks, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort in Steve’s.

   “Perfect,” Steve lies, doesn’t want Eddie to stop on his behalf, wants to keep kissing him.

   “You’re a bad liar, Stevie. You look tired.”

Eddie’s right. Steve should go home, drink a gallon of water and go to sleep, let the buzz wear off and-

   “Will this still be real tomorrow?”

    Please, let it be real.

Eddie presses another kiss to his lips before he nods.

   “I’m yours if you want me.”

   “Want you.”

   “Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

   “Are you coming home with me?” Steve asks, sounding a little more hopeful that he’d want to admit.

   “Just for tonight, let’s pretend I’m a gentleman, okay? I don’t want Robin to kill me before I have the chance to tell her.”

   “Tell her what?”

   “That I’m in love with her best friend.”

Steve will have the worst hangover tomorrow, he’s sure.

And Robin will have a lot to say about all of it.

But to hear Eddie say those words makes it all worth it.

   “What about Jeremy?” Steve’s being a teasing little shit now, he knows he is, can’t help himself.

   “I think his name was actually Jeffrey, or Jackson? I don’t really know him. He just wanted to talk to me about my band, saw us play a few weeks back.” Eddie grins, has this knowing look in his eyes that sends a hot rush to Steve’s cheeks.

   “Oh you bastard!” Steve huffs, feels stupid for falling for something like that. “I can't believe you let me think you two had something going on. That’s so mean!”

They both laugh.

   “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Eddie smirks and Steve can’t not kiss him.

   “I hate you,” Steve says through a smile and Eddie answers with his own.

   “I know, I love you, too.”

[scarlethexelove]

Hiiiiii Growing A Family was so soooo good!!! You’re such a great writer!!

Any chance we’ll get a part two in which Reader finds out she’s pregnant and how Natasha takes care of her throughout the pregnancy please please pleaseeeeeeee🥹🥹🥹

And Then There Were Five

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2721

Warnings: Cute and fluffy, Smut, Natasha has a Penis, Pregnant sex, Hint of breeding, Beefy!Nat (She is a warning in herself), Mama Nat, P in V, Horny reader, I think that is it.

Pt 1, Pt 3, Pt 4

A/n: I loved writing this one. Starts all nice and cute and then some smut at the end. Though I wasn't expecting it to get this long

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Mommy?” You can hear your daughter's voice making you turn around to her. “Aww sweetheart don’t you look adorable.” You beam at the 4 year old. She adorns a t-shirt that has ‘Best Big Sister’ written across the front. She giggles and runs up to you, giving you grabby hands as you pick her up and put her on your hip. You tickle her stomach making her giggle and squirm in your hold which only causes you to laugh. “Mommy stop it.” You smile. “Alright, alright.” You laugh. 

Just then you can hear the front door being opened. You put your daughter down and bend over to her height. “You remember what to do baby girl?” She nods her head quickly before running off. You stand up fully once again and start to busy yourself as you hear keys jingling, which signals you that your wife is growing near. 

You have your back turned to Nat as she enters the kitchen. Strong arms wrap around your waist as a body presses against yours. “Hi detka.” Nat mumbles as she kisses your shoulder. You can’t help the loving smile that spreads across your face. “Hi Natty.” You turn around in her hold giving her a peck on the lips. She smiles when you pull back and look into her eyes. She pulls you impossibly close to her. “How was your day?” You ask Nat. “It was good but I missed my girls.” Nat looks around for a moment. “Speaking of girls, where's Lizzie?” You give her a soft smile. “She’s in her room playing.” You lie to your wife as you see her little head popping out from the corner. 

Nat had noticed the present on the counter when she entered the room. Her eyes fell back to it. “What’s with the gift detka? Did I forget about a party?” You shake your head. “No sweetheart. It’s for you.” You smile. “Me? Did I forget our anniversary?” You can see the look of panic cross her face. Your hands move to cup her cheeks. “No Natty you didn’t forget anything. I just wanted to give you something special.” You let her face go as you see the relief wash over her. “Open it.” You usher her towards the box. Her arms drop from around you as she moves towards the box. Nat reaches out for the box and gently removes the bow. Your eyes twinkle with excitement as you watch your wife slowly open the gift. 

Pulling off the lid slowly you watch Nat’s face grow curious as she spots the shirt in the box. Written on the front says ‘Best Mama Ever’. You can hear little feet running towards you. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” Nat’s head quickly snaps towards your daughter. Running at her happily. Nat doesn’t even notice what her shirt says at first as she picks up Elizabeth and places her on her hip, but as she straightens out her shirt she reads it out loud. “Best big sister.” As she reads that you pull the pregnancy test out of your pants pocket holding it up. Her head snaps towards you and her eyes land on the clearly positive pregnancy test. Excitement takes over. “You’re pregnant?” You nod as tears come to your eyes. Words escape you as Nat takes her free arm and wraps you in a hug, squishing your Lizzie in between the both of you. “We’re going to have a baby!” Nat’s excitement is evident. 

You feel as little arms push at you. “Mama, Mommy squishing me.” You both laugh as Nat pulls away. Nat’s hand cups your cheek and you lightly nuzzle into her hand. Her thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away the happy tears that have fallen. She leans in kissing you deeply, pouring all the love she has for you in this one kiss. Her dreams of growing a family with you finally coming to forwishen. 

Nat has been absolutely amazing so far, being the most attentive wife as your pregnancy progresses. No matter what craving you are having or what time of day it is she will always get it. No matter how weird or hard it is to find she has gotten you everything you have ever wanted or needed. Even often at night before bed she lays with her head on your belly talking about anything and everything. 

Today is a day that you drop Elizabeth off the preschool and you decide to join Nat at the compound as she helps train new shield recruits. It’s a way you can catch up with the Avengers and you get to watch your wife workout which is always a win. 

You're standing off to the side gazing out among the many people, your hand placed on the side of your swollen stomach. You hadn’t noticed anyone had joined you until you felt your shoulder being nudged. As you look to your side you spot a familiar smiling face. “Wanda.” Wanda gives you a side hug with a big smile. “Hey Y/n/n. May I?” She gestures down to your stomach. You nod and chuckle. She gently places her hand on your stomach. “Wow, growing so fast.” You can’t help but chuckle at her words. “Yeah they are.” Wanda’s eyes shoot to yours as she catches onto your words. “They?” You break out into a wide smile. “Twins.” Wanda can’t help but pull you into an awkward hug with your belly in the way. “Oh my god I’m so excited for you. I bet Nat was ecstatic.” You hug Wanda back. “She is absolutely thrilled and so am I. Lizzie keeps asking when the babies will be here.” You can’t help but smile as Wanda pulls back, keeping her hands on your shoulders. “You two deserve all the happiness. If you ever need a babysitter for the cuties you know who to call.” You tilt your head a little. “The Ghostbusters.” Wanda gasps and playfully slaps your arm. “No silly. I need me some baby time.” You laugh and nod. “You’ll be the first person I call.” 

The two of you go back to a comfortable silence. You look back out into the gym scanning the room for your wife. When you spot her she is sparring with a recruit. Even from afar you can see how her body glistens with sweat. Her hair is put back in a french braid as she wears just a sports bra and some sweatpants. You subconsciously bite your lip as your eyes rake over her body. How her abs shine in the light; how you can see the outline of her bulge when she moves just right. Your underwear is becoming damp the longer you stare at her. All you want to do is rip all her clothes off and take her right there in the middle of the gym, not even caring who sees. 

You are so spaced out that you don’t notice Wanda trying to get your attention. She shakes you a little, snapping you back to reality. “Huh, what?” You turn to look at Wanda, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s got you so distracted?” Your eyes flick to Nat before flicking back to Wanda. She had a knowing glint in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. You can’t help as your cheeks heat up slightly. “Fuck, the pregnancy has made me so horny. Anything that Nat does has me wanting her more.” You turn to look back at your wife. “Look at her she is so fuckign hot Wanda, I can’t.” You groan. “Y/n I do not look at your wife like that.” She chuckles. “I give you full permission to look at her right now.” Wanda turns to look at Nat. “She does look pretty hot.” You can’t help but let out another groan. “I know right.” 

Nat slams the recruit into the ground as you watch on. You can see her pause for a second as a smile spreads across her face. You watch a little perplexed by the sudden change. She helps the recruit off the ground and says something to them before she starts making her way over to you and Wanda. It doesn’t take her long to reach you. “Hi detka, hi Wanda.” Nat greets you both. “Detka are you feeling a little needy?” Heat rises to your cheeks as your mouth hangs open in shock. Wanda laughs which makes you look over to her. You watch as the swirling red dissipates from her eyes. “You’re welcome.” Wanda laughs as she turns to walk away. “I love you but I hate you at the same time.” You call after her. She just laughs and waves her arms at you. “See you two later.” 

Hands grip your waist and bring you back to Nat who now stands closer to you looking down at you with a smirk. “You know all you have to do is ask baby girl.” Your mouth opens and closes a few times looking up to your wife. “You’re working baby. I-I didn’t want to disrupt you.” Nat shakes her head. “You’re my priority. Anyways I’m done now anyways.” Nat lifts you into her strong arms, you squeak as you cling onto her. She doesn’t care who is looking as she carries you out of the gym. 

“Where are you taking me?” You question Nat. “I still have a room here at the compound so I’m taking my beautiful wife to that bedroom and fucking her full of my cum. We still have a few hours before we have to pick up Lizzie from preschool.” Nat gives you a lopsided grin and you can’t help but let out a small moan at her words. Your wetness is already seeping through your pants. Hearing your moan and feeling how your wetness is seeping through Nat hastily makes her way into her old bedroom. 

As the door shuts behind you Nat locks the door and sets you down. Nat’s lips quickly press against yours. A hungry need for you takes her over as she quickly strips your clothes off your body. She only pulls away long enough to pull your shirt over your head. “Fuck I love you so much.” Nat mumbles against your lips. She starts kicking off her sweatpants and boxers. Her cock springing out, and her hands finding their place gripping your hips tightly. “I love you too.” You mumble back. Nat starts to walk the both of you towards the bed. 

Once you reach the bed Nat pulls away before climbing on the bed. She pulls you into her lap and you can feel her cock rubbing through your soaked folds. She rocks her hips a bit letting your wetness spread across her throbbing cock. Both of you moan at the feeling as her tip nudges against your clit. “Please Natty. I need you.” Your whine is needy but you don’t care all you want is to feel her, have her stretching you out. 

Nat’s hand moves down to her cock and you raise your hips. She lines her cock up with your dripping hole. As you feel it press against you you slowly start to lower yourself down. Impaling yourself on your wifes cock. Your walls stretch to accommodate your wife's size. As you're sinking down Nat’s hands go back to your hips and she lays back a bit onto the pillows. Your hips finally meeting hers as her cock fills you to the brim. Nat groans as your warm wet walls hug her cock. She can’t help but grind her hips up slightly. 

You start to raise up before lowering yourself back down. Starting to slowly bounce yourself on Nat’s cock. With her grip on your hips she helps you bounce on her. Your moans grow louder the longer you bounce. You can’t get enough of your wifes cock filling your tight little hole. “So good.” You slur your words as you grow fuzzy. 

Nat is enamored as she watches your breast bounce. “Fuck you look so beautiful. God these fucking tits.” Nat lets her hands drift up your body, both hands taking one of your breasts into them as she squeezes. Your head falls back and as your mouth opens in a silent moan. “Maybe I’ll keep breeding your perfect pussy hmm. Keep you pregnant and needy for me all the time. You’re just so beautiful carrying my babies.” You nod your head. “Please.” 

As you bounce and both of your orgasms grow the longer you go. Nat sits herself up moving to wrap her arms around her waist. Your belly slightly in the way of her getting as close to you but still loving the closeness. She plants her feet on the bed and starts to thrust up into you. This elicits a loud moan from the back of your throat which just spurs Nat on more. Her thrust are faster and harder as she pulls you down on her. She watches your face as it contorts in pleasure. 

Nat’s hips continue to drive into you and your moans become whiny the closer you grow to your orgasm. Your walls desperately sucking her further in as she pounds up into you. Nat moves her lips, starting to nip and suck at the skin of your neck. She leaves dark purple marks in her wake. The more desperate you are to cum the more desperate Nat becomes wanting to see you fall apart. 

“You’re squeezing me so tight Malyshka. I bet you want to cum all over my cock. Want me to fill up your needy little hole?” Nat mumbles against your skin. You moan and nod your head. “Please Natty need you so bad.” Your walls clamp tighter around her length as she thrust up into you. You can feel as her thrust become sloppier. She is getting close to the edge just the same as you are. 

You grind your hips as she pulls you onto her cock so desperate for her to finish with you. You're teetering on the edge as your walls clamp around her tightly. Your head falls forward and you do your best to nuzzle into her neck. Slightly whining when you can only get so closer with your belly in the way. “P-Please.” You whimper. Nat smiles. “Cum.” She says in a sultry voice. That’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge. You cum hard,  your walls spasming around her length as you coat her cock in your juices. You bite her shoulder muffling your moans as she continues to drive her hips up. 

Feeling your walls spasm around her and grip her cock tightly has Nat falling over the edge right after you. She holds you tightly against her as her cock twitches inside of you. Thick ropes of cum painting your walls white. She desperately ruts up into you prolonging both of your orgasms. “So fucking good.” Nat pants against the skin of your shoulder. You hum an agreement with your wife as you slump into her. Her thrust comes to a stop as she holds your grounding you and just letting you feel her. Letting you feel so full of her. 

You both calm down as your breathing goes back to normal. Holding onto one another in a closeness that you always crave. Nat’s cock still buried deep inside you and it doesn’t take long for you to start feeling needy again. Just the feeling of her cock in you has your brain becoming even more fuzzy. You grind your hips and you can feel Nat hardening again inside of you causing her to groan.

Nat looks at the clock and sees that you still have time before you have to pick up your daughter. So she flips your bodies, laying you down on the bed as she looms over you. Slowly starting to thrust into you again. “Let me take care of you detka.” 

So that is what Nat does through your whole pregnancy. She takes care of you and even after the twins are born she is there by your side. Sticking by you and being the best Mama to your little girl and now to your little twin boys. You couldn’t ask for a better wife or mother to your children.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Have you ever thought of writing Sub Aegon?

Like I know he's a pig but poor baby needed love.

His mother wasn't a mother at all cause she was a child when she had Aegon and Viserys focused on Rhaenyra.

So Oc and Aegon had an arranged marriage, both just did it for duty.

But one night, Aegon comes back from the brothel and poor baby for the first time. He didn't know what was happening cause him mind was over simulating and had a sub drop.

Luckily Oc knew what to do and helped Aegon.

I also have a feeling he'd have a Mama kink and lactation kink.

Take What You Need-Sub!Aegon T.

(I’ve never written for Aegon before but I’ll give it a go🤷🏼‍♀️

Before I write this I need it to be known that I do not support Aegon’s behavior in anyway shape or form. It is rare that I read any kind of Aegon content-usually when it’s paired with Aemond and an OC-and I am writing this solely for the request. However I hope you like this fic, short as it is, and I hope you love Subby!Aegon)

Seeing Aegon at her door in the middle of the night, shaking with tears on his face was definitely not what she expected that night but she opened the door for her husband anyway and allowed him in. Y/n watched him crawl into her bed, not removing his clothes or even his shoes before curling up into a sniffling ball at the end of the bed.

‘Aegon? What is happening? You only come to my bedchambers when you are drunk and in want of a child. What has happened?’ She asked, clearly not caring all that much and Aegon could hear it in her voice which just made him cry harder. ‘Aegon! What is the meaning of this?! Tell me before I summon Aemond to return you to your own bedchambers-‘

‘I don’t know…I-I’m sorry…I’ve b-been a t-terrible husband to y-you and I don’t d-deserve your help but I didn’t kn-know where else to…’ he broke down into another silent round of tears and sniffles making Y/n sigh.

‘Where have you come from? Another brothel?’ He nodded his head.

‘Sh-she was so mean…I couldn’t think straight and now I…my head feels…I’m so sorry Y/n! I’ve been so awful to you and I-‘

‘Hush husband. It is alright. Just breathe, you just need to rest.’ Y/n had experienced much the same thing before, she had of course enjoyed the company of the odd guard in her bed just as her husband had with all of his whores-their agreement standing so long as she never falls pregnant with another man’s child.

‘Don’t hate me…’ he whimpered and Y/n found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew better than anyone how he had suffered all his life, he had broken down and told his wife everything on numerous occasions as she is the only one who would never breathe his secrets. All about his father and his indifference, his mother and her borderline hatred for him, honestly it doesn’t shock the Princess how he ended up the way he did.

‘I do not hate you husband. Now take a deep breath for me, we are going to get you feeling better.’ He did as she instructed while she removed his shoes and socks, sitting him up and taking off his cloak as well as his shirt before tucking him into the blankets. She stripped him completely bare before wetting a rag and cleaning off his face.

Aegon could not help but stare up at his wife, she was beautiful, he had always known it but in this moment as she was caring for him so sweetly in a way no one ever had for him even as a child…he realized how much he really does love her. He had tried so long to hide it, not wanting to have to endure the rejection from his own wife that he knew would never love him. ‘You are so beautiful…I love you-‘

‘You only feel that right now, you will wake up in the morning with your senses-‘

‘No! No, I do. I love you…I’m sorry that I never said it, I…I did not believe that I could handle your rejection…my life has been nothing but rejection and if…if you did the same I think…I may never have come back from that…I love you.’

Y/n had never thought to hear such words from Aegon and it was touching, especially in this moment. ‘I love you as well husband. Now it is time to sleep, you will wake feeling refreshed and forget this night ever happened.’ She spoke, stripping to her small clothes and climbing into the bed herself only to feel Aegon cling to her, head on her chest with his arms tightly around her body.

‘I will not, I refuse to forget this. Your care for me is more than I deserve but I will cling to it none the less.’ Aegon insisted, reaching up and pulling down her top before nuzzling his face into her breasts and groaning in pleasure. He had always enjoyed her breasts but ever since she had Maegar, their son had been stealing them from him.

‘It’s alright Aegon…take what you need, my love.’ He looked up at her from her chest, startled by the outright permission. He stared at her for several moments before whining and attaching his lips to her right nipple. He moaned at the first mouthful of milk that he got, instantly rock hard and grinding against her thigh. ‘Such a needy little boy you are, aren’t you?’ Aegon nodded his head as he shoved her small clothes out of the way, pushing his cock into her pussy and moaning once again. He thrust his cock up into her, barely pulling out before thrusting again as he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her perfect cunt for even a second. ‘My sweet boy, doing such a good job.’

���Feels so good…never leaving Mommy’s pussy-so good!’ He was truly a sight to behold, practically crying at this point as he clung to her body, milk dribbling down his chin as he continued to hump his cock up into her tight pussy. ‘Need…need to-‘

‘It’s okay Aegon. Cum, you want to give me another baby, don’t you? Cum sweet boy.’

‘Oh Gods! Mommy-Fuck!’ He wailed, thrusting up into her again as deep as he could and cumming, whining as he felt her clenching around him through her own end which just made his cock leak more cum into her cunt.

‘Such a good boy.’ She mumbled, brushing her fingers through his hair and prompting him to look up, startled.

‘Good?’ He questioned, tears filling his eyes at the idea of being a good boy for her and she nodded. ‘Mommy’s good boy.’ He smiled, wrapping his lips around her left nipple this time and suckling contently.

‘That’s right baby. Mommy’s good boy.’

That’s how they both fell asleep that night, wrapped around each other, Aegon feeling all better after being comforted by his wife and promising himself to never neglect her again. She was clearly the only person in the world who truly cared about him (besides Sunfyre) and he refused to lose her. No matter what he had to do to ensure it.

[penelopepine]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRE4DQVR/

Okay but I saw this and tell me why I couldn’t help but think of the cod guys when they get back from deployment like 😭🥺🙈 and your baby is just waiting with you, excited bc ‘daddy’s home!’

You know exactly what to say to get my thoughts running! I just had to write about this!!!

Welcome Home!

141 reacts to you and your kid welcoming him home.

Price: 

It was his first time home in months, and Price has plans to surprise you and your daughter by coming home a few hours early. He made sure to arrive at a time where he knew you would be out of the house; you were currently picking up your daughter from school. 

Price knew that as soon as you and her pulled into the driveway you both would know that he was home. Which is why the front door being thrown open followed by an excited scream he wasn’t surprised. Even more less so when a little body slams into him before he can stand from the couch. 

“Daddy!” 

“Oof- Hello sweetheart!” Price pulls her in close to his chest, and gives her a kiss on top of her head. “How are my girls doing?” He asks as you sit down next to him. You two share a quick kiss before leaning into his side; wrapping yourself around him. 

“Sweetheart, don't you have a surprise for Daddy?” You knowingly ask the little girl. 

With a gasp the girl is up and running back to the door where she had thrown her backpack, and brings it back to where he is. Throwing open her back pack she pulls out a clearly homemade card. She excitedly hands it over to him before settling back in her spot. 

On the front of the card it had a big heart with ‘Daddy’ written inside of it. Opening it up he found a picture of the three of you all holding hands. Hearts surrounded you all and the words ‘Welcome Home!’ were written at the top. 

“I love it sweetheart, thank you!” Price exclaims. His words seem to make his daughter’s smile grow tenfold.  It was moments like this that really made him reflect on his time away from you and her. How he ended up with you, the love of his life, and a precious daughter he didn’t know. Price wasn’t going to question it that’s for sure; not when his life was this perfect.

Three of you continue to sit on the couch, and just cuddle with one another. It only takes about 20 minutes for your daughter to fall peacefully asleep in her parents arms. “I love having you home.” You softly whisper into his ear as you rest your hand on top of his. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” That was true too. This is all he’s ever wanted in life, and he wouldn’t let anyone take this away from him. 

Gaz:

When Gaz opened the door he was immediately hit with a sweet smell filling the house. As quietly as he could he shut the door behind him, and followed the scent. Slowly approaching the kitchen he heard the sounds of both you and your daughter quietly giggling to one another. 

Looking in he saw you two with your backs to him standing over what he assumes, based on the smell, is a cake. Your daughter is standing on a stool next to you laughing up a storm as she reaches into bowls set up next to her, and dropping whatever she had on the cake. It truly brought a smile to Gaz’s face as he watched the scene in front of him. 

Just as he’s about to make his presence known you speak, “You excited to surprise Dada with the cake you made?”

“Yeah! He’s going to love this so much!” She excitedly announces, “When is Dada gonna be home?” 

You look at time before answering, “He should be home any second now!” 

Gaz takes that as his cue to finally show himself. “Well what’s all this?” He says as he steps forward to wrap his arms around you two. 

“Dada! Look, we made you a cake!” 

Glancing down at the cake in question he sees the words ‘Welcome Home’ written in frosting with m&ms and sprinkles of every color haphazardly thrown around the whole thing. In other words it was a mess, but that only made Gaz love it more. How could he want anything more than this? “This is for me?” directing his question towards the little girl grinning widely while nodding at him, “This is amazing darling, by far the best looking cake I’ve seen!” 

“Let’s cut you a piece of this then!” You happily say before wapping one of your arms around his waist.

Gaz can’t help but pull you closer to him for a kiss right then, You always know what to do to make his homecoming something special, “I’ll of course take a corner piece!” 

His little girl watched attentively as he took the first bite; making sure to make a loud hum of enjoyment.It was only then that she too took a big bite of her own piece. 

“Thank you.” He whispers to you, “For doing all of this.” 

“You know I’d do anything for you.” 

Soap:

Soap was so fucking ready to be back with his family. He practically ran out of the airplane knowing that you and his boy would be waiting for him. Before he even reached the terminal he was searching for you two; not wanting to waste a second of being home again. Coincidentally he heard you both before he saw you. 

“Da! Da!” Soap would recognise that voice anywhere. Looking in that direction it took him, but a second to find you both. There right in front of stood you and a little boy with a sign as big as he was with ‘Welcome Home Da!’ written on it. Childlike drawings of hearts and smiley faces surrounded the words. 

“I’m coming Da!” Instantly the little one is throwing down the sign and sprinting towards him. You don’t make any moves to stop him knowing that he has only one destination in mind and nothing was going to stop him from reaching it. Soap at the same time is kneeling down waiting for his son to slam into him. 

As soon as his son is in his arms he’s squeezing him close to his chest before standing and walking towards you. Adjusting to have his son to have one arm free Soap then brings you in as soon as he is able to. The three of you standing there for a few seconds just holding each other. Soap can’t help thinking to himself that he’s holding his whole world right now, and doesn’t think he could live without this anymore. 

“I love you both so much.” He says with his head resting on yours. 

“And we love you.” You reach up with a hand placing it on his cheek, “We love you being home.” 

“I’m home; I’m not going anywhere for a while. I made Price promise to not call me back there for anything less than a state of emergency.” 

It was at this point when he finally noticed what seemed to be different about his son. The little bairn had a very similar hairstyle that matched his own. “What’s this buddy? Got a haircut while I was gone?” 

“Yeah! Do you like it?” He excitedly asks, “I wanted to match you!” 

“I love it! A real mini me you are.” Soap can’t help but ask as well, “Why do you want to match me?” 

“Because, I love you, Da! I want to be exactly like you!” 

Ghost: 

It was already late into the night when Ghost arrived home. He wasn’t expecting either of you to be awake at this time, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw you awake sitting on the couch. His son on the other hand was absolutely knocked out; his head was resting in your lap as you silently played with his hair. 

Once you saw him you reach out to him with your other hand and draw him close; pulling him to sit down with you as well. As he does, Ghost puts his son's legs on lap; doing his best to not wake the little one up. “You should be asleep as well, y'know.” 

“I wasn’t sleeping until you came home tonight.” You lay your head on his shoulder. “Little man wanted to stay up as well; He fought himself to stay awake for about an hour after his bedtime before he finally crashed.” 

He hums lightly and looks down at the sleeping figure in both your laps. If you had told Ghost that this would be his life he would have called you insane. There was no way that someone like him would end up with a life as perfect as this. 

“Let’s get you both to bed now that I’m home.” With that Ghost stands lifting the boy into his arms. Immediately the sleeping child clings onto him. 

“Dad? Are you home?” He mutters still half asleep. 

Ghost softly rubs his back while lightly shushing him, “Yeah little man I’m home. Go back to sleep. It's already way past your bedtime” 

“...Ok.” The little boy sleepily says before falling right back to sleep again. With that Ghost and you walk together, and tuck him into his bed. 

After that you two quietly make your way out of his room, and down the hall to your own bedroom. Silently you help him undress into more comfortable clothes before sitting him down onto the bed. You then step away and grab a washcloth, and begin to gently wash his face.  

“Come on love, you need your sleep too.” Ghost says as he grabs you around the waist and tugs you into the bed next to him after you’re done with his face.

You tuck your head into his neck before muttering, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, lovie.” With those words both of you fade into unconsciousness; arms tight around the other. 

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

🎀 in the late night of june, you sit beneath a mystic moon. well, rather, you're in a bar, all by your lonesome, pondering on what to order. in your daze, you didn't even see the strange man watching you.

yandere oc! x fem! reader

Despite being late June, the weather could not seem to make up its mind on how it was going to go. For the past few days, the sky kept going back and forth between being a beautiful blue to then suddenly changing to a gloomy grey, the air growing heavy with the threat of a downpour on any unsuspecting pedestrian.

You suppose you were no better than the weather, you figured. Toying with the the menu between your fingers, you noticed how it was filled to the brim with various drinks ranging from alcoholic to non alcoholic, hot or cold drinks, all of which was printed out on a pristine piece of jet black paper.

What to drink , what to drink?

The stress of exams was too much to bear, perhaps you could blame that for being so damn indecisive.

You let out a shiver as you noticed the waitresses cranking up the air conditioning to an insane degree. What was she trying to do, freeze you to death?! How inconsiderate...!

With a huff, you focused your attention back on the menu and came to the rational realization that perhaps it was for the best to get a simple fruit juice. But which kind? The offer was diverse and each flavor would surely satisfy your aching throat.

Just as you were getting ready to call out the waitresses, she seemingly beat you to the punch as she scurried towards you, a mysterious drink in her hand. The crystal glass shimmered softly against the dimly lit bar as the woman placed the drink in front of you, along with a scrunched up piece of paper. It couldn't be a bill as you had not ordered anything yet...

Seeing the confusion swirling in your eyes, the waitresses gave you a wink, beating you once again in terms of speed.

"See that guy in the corner over there?" she asked you, her tone laced with a sort of excitement. You nod, albeit slightly dumbly.

"It's from him!" she chirps happily.

Odd. You could have sworn that seat was not occupied just a few moments ago.

Taking the piece of paper in your hands, you unfold it to reveal neat handwriting, each letter and syllable written gently with a basic blue ink pen. It was a string of numbers, most likely his own phone number. Raising your head towards his direction, you noticed him eyeing you up and down, a boyish grin on his face.

He seemed normal enough, you reckoned. He seemed to be around his mid 20's, average height. He wore basic blue jeans and a cozy looking black t-shirt, which had no print on it. There were little to no accessories on his person other than a string which was hanging around his neck, most likely a necklace but was hidden from your view. Another thing worth taking note of was his phone case, which had a print of the Ghostface mask from the Scream franchise.

Ah, so he was a horror fan. How neat.

Feeling a little bold, you grabbed both your drink and the note and made your way towards him, never once breaking eye contact with the mystery man. Without a word, you shimmied across from him as you placed everything on the wooden table. A strange silence hovered in the air as neither one of you spoke for those few moments, but the man was clearly amused. Something was going on inside his head and he made no attempt to hide it, his light brown eyes basically dancing with pure glee. As if to ease the tension, he lightly smacked his lips and spoke:

"So. How are you on this fine evening?"

His tone was casual, as if he had known you for years, like he was chatting with an old pal back from the good ol' days. His entire demeanor was calm, dare you say friendly even. He raised his glass to his lips, the amber liquid in it swishing away as he took a sip, his gaze still not leaving yours.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

You couldn't help but to giggle a little.

"Ah, she speaks! Such delight!"

His tone was sweet like candy, lulling you in to feel safe. It was embarrassing how there was a part of you that actually seemed to be enjoying this encounter, but how could you not?

Life was so stale sometimes, so dull. The most exciting thing that would happen were the occasional outings with friends, all of which you loved dearly but... You craved more. It was unsure what you craved exactly, what you needed to get your heart beating and pulsing, but regardless you needed some excitement.

It was good to change the pace every once in a while.

The evening went on and you came to learn that the name of the mystery man was Will, an engineer student who transferred recently. He liked horror movies, mystery novels, cars and good beer. It was easy to chat and you shared many things with Will, even going as far to express the desire to see him again.

The sentiment was very much mutual.

As closing time was due, you exited the establishment with Will, his hand playfully linked with yours as he talked your ear off all of the fake guts in horror movies. He was so fascinated with the way films handled the production of those fake body parts, gooey blood and potential inducing nightmare fuel.

You made your way down the street together, the darkness of the night sky being slightly broken by the old street lights.

"Y'know..." he trailed off. He was still smiling.

"I always wondered what it would be like to actually kill a person."

It took a few seconds for you to realize just what he exactly said. Stopping dead in your tracks you turned towards Will, a flabbergasted look on your face. You felt the hair at the back of your hair stand up as the wind picked up, the leaves around you going in every direction, a warning of what was potentially to come.

Suddenly, the sound of loud and absurd laughter came bursting out of him, you soon following suit. It was borderline manic as he held your hand in his own, but being so lost in the sweet comfort of earlier you chose to not think about his worrying statement. Most horror enthusiasts were a little quirky anyway, Will was probably like that too.

And just like that, you parted ways for the evening, both parties promising to get in touch as soon as possible.

The walk home was swift as each step made you feel like a silly schoolgirl who just had her first kiss.

It was just so refreshing, like gentle rainy dew on a hot day.

Making your way back home, you fumbled with the keys inside your bag and opened the door with lightning speed. Kicking off your shoes and tossing the purse on the bed, you grabbed your phone and the piece of paper, pondering on the thought of whether you should just save his number or not. You were clearly going to be seeing him for a while, so -

Ding!

The text message was so sudden that you almost threw your phone on the ground. One mini heart attack later, you saw that the string of numbers were the same ones from before, so you quickly opened the message.

"What's your favorite scary movie ;))"

You snorted. He was so cheesy but damn it all if it wasn't cute.

"I like Scream a lot, if that makes you happy :D"

It took him a few minutes to respond.

"Good choice. But, personally, I'd really like to make my own scary movie with you... I could make you the main star."

Oh... Well. You're not sure how to respond to that. You stop and think, only for the sudden feeling of unease to come back. You remain still and try to brainstorm a response, but Will is faster.

"What wrong baby? Did I scare you? :)"

Ah. He's really committing to the part, isn't he? The best thing to do would be to just call him out.

"Haha, very funny Will! And no, you did not scare me, I'm just a slow texter!!!!"

Perhaps it was time to call it a night. It's been a rough week and you were not in the mood for these games. Halfway as you were turning away, your phone suddenly rang. You sharply turned your head back, wondering why Will was calling you so late. Perhaps he didn't get social cues? Your discomfort should have been obvious from the get go, but you still decide to pick up. Parting your lips, you started to talk but a male voice interrupted you instead.

"This isn't Will baby. But I'll be more than happy to make you my Sidney Prescott."

All the air was knocked out of your lungs as your eyes bulged so hard out of your head, threatening to pop like cheap balloons.

He was right. That was not Will's voice. The mystery caller cackled, his voice ringing loudly in your ear, the sound almost too painful for your mind.

"Didn't think you'd actually pick up." he continued. "I kept an eye on you all night, and you didn't even see me! Now that baby, is skill! "

He sounded so proud, like a child who just got a high mark on a test, as if he didn't even see just how wrong this whole situation really was. Mustering up the courage, you spoke up:

"Where's Will?"

Silence. The other line was dead silent but the caller didn't end the line.

You really did not like where this was heading.

"And why would you care where he is?" inquired the man, his voice changing from menacing to serious. Your silence spurred him on, making him more mad.

"You're my girl, even if you don't know it yet. I won't have you sweet talkin' with other men."

You let out a shocked scoff and quickly hung up. You smacked the phone against the table as an audible smack! echoed across the room. Crossing your arms close to your chest, you sprawled across the cozy bed with worry on your mind as the heart in your chest beat like crazy, pumping and pumping sheer adrenaline.

Despite all that, you somehow managed to fall asleep.

You didn't even get to see the last text the creepy caller had sent.

"I'll make you my girl, even if it's the last thing I ever do."

That was not a threat. But rather, a promise.

[aisiedaisie]

Royal Flush

Authors Note: I'm currently recovering from surgery so I apologize for a lack of updates. I am recovering well, thankfully, but it's been really difficult to sit and write for long periods of time... I'm so sorry!!! However, we finally have an update~ If there are any grammatical errors I apologize most of this was written via voice to text my little loophole for writing right now.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7K

Morning arrived with an unceremonious jolt as a series of sharp knocks shattered the fragile peace of your slumber. You groaned, barely able to push yourself upright before the door creaked open without waiting for your response.

Molly strode in with a bounce in her step, the morning sun catching on her copper curls as they bobbed with her movement. She wore her usual mischievous grin, her hands planted firmly on her hips like she was about to deliver some grand proclamation.

“Good morning, my lady,” she chimed, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness.

Still groggy, you blinked at her, confusion clouding your mind. “Molly— what are you—”

Before you could finish, she closed the door with a deliberate click and leaned against it, her grin widening. Her expression practically sparkled with mischief, and you suddenly felt very exposed.

“A little birdie,” she began, her tone light and almost singsong, “told me something very interesting this morning.”

A faint sense of dread began to creep into your chest. “What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, though a part of you already suspected where this was heading.

Molly tilted her head, her coy expression unwavering. “Oh, nothing much. Just that my brothers—lovely lads, part of the Griffyn Guard, as you know— happened to spot someone leaving your chambers at an awfully early hour.”

Your stomach dropped. Bolting upright, you felt the blood rush from your head, leaving you dizzy. “What?” you croaked, the word barely audible.

Molly raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Don’t look so scandalized, my lady,” she teased. “They weren’t sure who it was at first— until they got a better look. And wouldn’t you know it, the person bore an uncanny resemblance to Sir Sirius Black.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as her words hung in the air. You scrambled for a response, but your tongue felt like lead.

Molly’s grin turned positively feline. She crossed her arms, her eyes twinkling with glee. “So,” she drawled, “is there something you’d like to share? A midnight rendezvous, perhaps?”

You gaped at her, heat rushing to your face. “Molly!” you finally managed, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment.

She chuckled, pushing off the door and sauntering closer. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not about to start spreading tales. But you can’t blame a girl for being curious.”

“Nothing happened,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively toward Molly’s pointed, curious stare. “He was just helping me back to my room after I went for a stroll in the gardens.”

Molly tilted her head, her auburn curls swaying with the motion, her brows raised in a way that told you she didn’t believe a single word of it. Still, she offered a shrug, deciding— for now, at least— not to press the matter further.

“If you say so, my lady,” she said with a sly smile that suggested she wasn’t quite finished teasing you.

_____

The rest of the early morning passed in a whirlwind of Molly’s endless energy and rapid fire explanations as she led you through more of the castle. At last, you discovered the kitchens, tucked away in a cozy corner of the palace. The scent of fresh bread and simmering stews greeted you as Molly proudly declared, “And here’s where the magic happens.”

You were introduced to the bustling cooks and kitchen staff, their aprons dusted with flour and their sleeves rolled up as they worked around the large stone hearth. They greeted you warmly, one even offering you a freshly baked roll that you nibbled on thankfully as Molly dragged you back into the halls.

From there, she brought you by the meeting rooms, where, unsurprisingly, the princess was once again trapped in an endless string of meetings.

Mary and Marlene stood near the door to the meeting chamber, their postures casual yet attentive.

“Lily is still in there?” You ask, your tone equal parts amused and exasperated.

Mary sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the stone wall. “Still in there,” she confirmed with a knowing look.

“We can’t even go inside,” Marlene added, gesturing toward the grand double doors. “It’d be overkill for all of us to just stand around waiting for her highness. Besides,” she added with a grimace, “I’m not sitting through another one of those meetings unless I’m being forced.”

Mary turned to you with an understanding smile and waved you off. “Don’t worry about her. Our lady is used to this. She’ll find us when she’s free.”

Before you could even offer to wait with them, Molly was already ushering you away, her hands lightly pushing you down the hall like a mother shooing her child away from adult conversations.

“Come on, no use hovering around,” she said cheerily. “Let’s find something else to do.”

You glanced back over your shoulder at the closed doors of the meeting chamber, feeling a faint pang of sympathy for Lily. Then, sighing in resignation, you allowed Molly to steer you away, her chatter quickly filling the quiet corridors as the castle unfolded before you once more.

_____

You spent the remainder of the morning seated by the window, warm sunlight streaming through the frosty glass, as Molly animatedly filled the air with her knowledge about the capital’s shops.

It had started with a simple question about winter dresses— your wardrobe clearly unprepared for the fast approaching frigid temperatures— and Molly had launched into a detailed breakdown of every reputable boutique in town.

Her enthusiasm was contagious, her smile bright as she spoke of fabric selections, embroidery styles, and which tailors were secretly overrated. But as her words spilled forth like a rushing stream, you began to feel the sheer amount of information cloud your thoughts.

“Thank you, Molly,” you said finally, with a gentle laugh that masked your slight overwhelm. “When I’m able, I’d like to go into town to—”

Molly, never one to hesitate, practically bounced in place. “We can go now, if you’d like, my lady!” she offered eagerly, already standing and smoothing down the front of her skirts in preparation.

You glanced at the small ornate clock perched on the vanity. The delicate golden hands crept closer to midday. Your heart fluttered, and you quickly shook your head, reaching out to grasp Molly’s hand before she could get too far. “Perhaps tomorrow?” you suggested gently.

Her brows lifted in curiosity, the question clear in her expression even though she didn’t voice it.

You averted your gaze, busying yourself by tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and answered her unspoken query. “I promised Sir Sirius I would meet with him today. Around noon.”

Your voice dropped slightly, softened with a tone you hadn’t intended to use. Your head bowed just enough to mask the warmth spreading across your cheeks, though you doubted Molly missed it.

The memories of last night— the way Sirius had lingered just long enough for you to feel his sincerity— still hovered fresh and vivid in your mind.

Molly’s lips quirked upward, a knowing smile tugging at the corners. “Ah, I see,” she teased, leaning closer in mock secrecy. “Well, far be it from me to come between you and a certain knight, my lady.”

“Molly…” you groan, your cheeks as warm as they could be as you shoot her an admonishing look.

But she merely laughed, her giggles bright and carefree as they echoed through the room.

“Well, we should doll you up then,” Molly declared with a mischievous grin, already eyeing your hair and outfit as if she were mentally drafting a plan. “Not that you really need it—"

“It’s not a date,” you interrupted with a soft laugh, shaking your head at her enthusiasm.

Molly’s brows rose ever so slightly, clearly unconvinced. “Not a date?” she repeated, a teasing lilt in her voice as she crossed her arms.

You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. “It isn’t. I was asked to meet with Sir Sirius, Sir Remus, and His Highness after his classes this morning,” you explained, watching as her smile grew impossibly wider.

“Even more reason to doll you up!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if your explanation had only solidified her resolve.

Before you could protest, Molly had already begun rifling through your wardrobe with the fervor of someone on a mission. “Let’s see,” she muttered under her breath, pulling out gowns and holding them up against the light. “Too formal… too plain… oh, this one!” She spun around, holding a light blue gown trimmed with silver embroidery that shimmered faintly in the morning light.

“Molly, really—”

“Oh, hush,” she interrupted, her tone both firm and playful as she laid the gown on the bed and began fussing with your hair. “You may not think it’s a date, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look stunning. You’re meeting with the prince, my lady. A little effort never hurt anyone.”

You sighed in surrender, letting her take the reins as she braided your hair into an elegant, simple style. As she worked, her chatter filled the room, alternating between playful teasing about your 'not a date' and genuine compliments about how the color of the dress would bring out your eyes.

By the time she was finished, you couldn’t help but admire her handiwork. The gown fit perfectly, and the subtle sparkle of the embroidery caught the light whenever you moved. Your hair, braided and pinned just so, framed your face delicately.

“There,” Molly said with a satisfied smile, stepping back to admire her work. “Now you’re ready to meet your knight—and your prince.”

You shot her a pointed look, but the warmth of your smile betrayed you. “Thank you, Molly. But really, this isn’t—”

“Save it,” she interrupted with a wink, shooing you toward the door. “Go on, my lady. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

As you left the room, you couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter of nerves mixed with anticipation. It wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself again, but something about the way Sirius had smiled at you the night before made it hard to ignore the possibilities lingering in the air.

_____

The walk to the library was nerve wracking. Your heart thrummed in your ears, each step feeling as though it drained the energy from your body. Yet, despite the nervous fluttering in your chest, you pressed on, determined to keep your promise.

Soon enough, you found yourself standing before the grand double doors of the library, slightly ajar to reveal a world of endless shelves and tables bathed in soft golden light.

Pushing the doors open wider, you stepped inside. The scent of parchment and aged leather greeted you, a soothing yet slightly overwhelming aroma. Rows upon rows of books stretched toward the ceiling, interspersed with towering ladders that hinted at the sheer scale of the collection.

At the center of it all stood an older man, his back straight and his movements deliberate. He cradled two hefty books against his chest, his expression warm and inviting. For a brief moment, you swore you'd seen his face before, and then it struck you— this must be the prince’s tutor and, by extension, Remus’s father.

The realization had you bowing your head quickly in a polite gesture as you stepped aside to let him pass.

“Ah, thank you, my lady,” he said with a gentle chuckle, his voice kind and refined.

You murmured a soft response, still bowing your head slightly, and watched as he left the library. The sound of his footsteps faded into the corridor beyond, leaving you alone with the three figures still in the room.

James sat at one of the tables across from Remus, a scattering of books and scrolls spread between them. James’s hand rested lightly on the edge of a page, mid-turn, while Remus appeared to be explaining something, his tone low and measured.

And then there was Sirius, leaning casually against a bookshelf just behind James. His dark hair fell across his face in soft waves, and his arms were crossed in a way that gave him a roguish, unbothered air. Yet the moment his gaze landed on you, his posture shifted ever so slightly— his shoulders straightened, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

“Well,” James said, his voice breaking the quiet reverie. He closed his book with a soft thud and grinned at you. “Look who decided to join us.”

You smiled nervously, stepping further into the room. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” you said softly, your gaze flitting between them.

“Not at all,” Remus assured, his tone steady and reassuring. “We were just finishing up.”

Sirius pushed off the bookcase then, walking toward you with an easy grace that belied the warmth in his stormy gray eyes. “You made it,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, though the smile on his lips widened ever so slightly.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “I promised I would try to come by.”

James exchanged a knowing look with Remus, who merely raised a brow in quiet amusement before returning his attention to closing the books in front of him.

“Well,” James said, clapping his hands together and standing. “Since we’re done with lessons for the day, why don’t we get out of here? The library’s a bit too stuffy for a proper conversation, don’t you think?”

Sirius turned back to look at you, waiting for your response. Your throat felt dry, but you managed a nod. “That sounds lovely.”

“Perfect,” James said with a grin, looping an arm around Remus’s shoulder as they began to gather their things. Sirius lingered at your side, his presence both grounding and slightly overwhelming.

As the four of you made your way out of the library, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of ease and anticipation— like the faint hum of an incoming storm.

Though you trusted their lead, uncertainty began to creep in when you realized you had no idea where you were heading. Lingering just a step behind, you took note of every turn, trying to memorize the path. You knew it would be just your luck to wander into an unfamiliar wing later and find yourself hopelessly lost.

That thought proved prophetic when James turned into a hallway you hadn’t seen before. The cold, bare stone of the earlier halls gave way to a long, deep red carpet that ran the length of the corridor. The walls, too, grew more ornate, boasting intricate carvings and golden accents. This wing was somehow even more luxurious than the one you had been staying in with Lily.

The opulence only deepened as you were led into a sitting room. The space was warm and inviting, the kind of elegance that whispered of understated power. Wine colored velvet couches framed a glass table adorned with delicate gold trim, the craftsmanship so fine you almost hesitated to look too long. 

Sheer white curtains framed tall windows, allowing sunlight to filter through the leaves of trees outside. The dappled light danced across the room in soft patches, adding a gentle glow to the otherwise regal atmosphere.

“Have a seat, my lady.”

Remus’s calm, steady voice drew you out of your thoughts. You blinked, startled by how deeply you had been observing the room, and turned to find him gesturing to one of the couches.

“Oh,” you breathed, your cheeks warming as you realized you had been standing there for longer than was intended. “Thank you.”

With a soft nod, you stepped forward and sank into one of the couches. The velvet cushions were as plush as they looked, enveloping you in a quiet sort of comfort. It was a stark contrast to the fluttering nerves in your chest.

James and Sirius took seats across from you, Sirius choosing the armrest rather than the couch itself, while James lounged with a carefree ease that only seemed to amplify the princely air about him. Remus, ever the gentleman, settled beside you, though he left a polite distance between you.

“So,” James began, his tone bright as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you think of the castle so far?”

“It’s… breathtaking,” you admitted honestly, your gaze flicking around the room once more. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how grand it all is.”

James grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’d be surprised. Give it a few weeks, and you’ll be wandering these halls like you own the place.”

“Or,” Sirius interjected, his tone light but teasing, “you’ll get hopelessly lost and end up in the kitchens. Not that it’s a bad place to be.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m trying to avoid that fate, but I can’t make any promises.”

Remus chuckled quietly beside you, the sound low and warm. “If it happens, you’ll have plenty of people willing to guide you back. Sirius especially seems to enjoy playing the knight in shining armor.”

Sirius shot him a playful glare, but there was no heat behind it. “I don’t see you volunteering to help.”

“That’s because I have faith in her sense of direction,” Remus replied smoothly, his lips quirking into a small smile as he turned to you. “But should you need it, I’d be happy to help as well.”

The warmth in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself nodding before you even fully registered his words. “Thank you, Remus. I’ll keep that in mind.”

James clapped his hands together, breaking the quiet moment. “Alright, enough teasing. Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we? We’ve got plenty of time before duty calls again.”

The casual rapport in the air eased the last of your nerves, and you allowed yourself to relax into the couch, a soft smile gracing your lips. 

Sirius was the one to break the comfortable silence, his voice smooth but direct as he leaned forward from his perch on the armrest. “So,” he began, his grey eyes flicking between you and the others, “how did you want to go about this?”

His words hung in the air like a thread waiting to be pulled, and the mood shifted ever so slightly.

Remus let out a quiet sigh, his hand lifting to pinch the bridge of his nose in obvious exasperation. “Must we always jump straight to the point, Sirius? Can we not ease into this for once?”

James, lounging with his typical air of princely mischief, bit back a chuckle, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “I hate to say it, but Siri has a point. I think being upfront might actually help here, Rem.”

At that, Remus’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling, the smallest twitch of a smile betraying his otherwise irritated expression. “Fine,” he relented, gesturing loosely with his hand as though passing the baton. “By all means, one of you take the lead.”

James straightened a little in his seat, clearly ready to jump in, but Sirius beat him to it. His gaze settled on you, steady but not unkind, the sharp edges of his humor softened for the moment.

“We wanted to talk to you about something important,” Sirius said, his tone unusually measured. “And, well, it’s not exactly the easiest thing to bring up.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity sparking in your chest as you met his gaze. “Important?” you echoed, your voice tentative.

Remus sighed again, though there was less frustration and more resignation in the sound now. “Yes, important,” he confirmed, sitting up straighter as if to lend weight to his words. “It concerns you… and us, I suppose.”

James, ever the bold one, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees his hands intertwined as he grinned at you with that boyish smile. “We’ve all grown quite fond of you,” he said, his tone light but earnest.

Your brows knitted together in confusion, and you glanced between the three of them. “I… don’t quite understand,” you admitted, your heart thudding louder with each passing second.

Sirius exchanged a brief glance with James, then Remus, before turning back to you. “We’re trying to say that we care about you,” he explained, his voice softer now. “Not just as acquaintances or friends. Something more than that.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, your breath catching as the weight of his words settled over you. “You mean… all of you?” you asked hesitantly, your cheeks warming as you tried to process.

Remus nodded, his expression as calm and reassuring as ever. “Yes. All of us.”

James smiled warmly, the sincerity in his eyes dispelling any lingering doubt. “You don’t have to give us an answer now,” he said quickly, his tone gentle. “We just… We just wanted you to know how we feel.”

Your gaze dropped to your hands, which were clasped tightly in your lap, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions you couldn’t quite pin down. When you finally looked up again, the three of them were watching you with varying degrees of hope and apprehension, their vulnerability as evident as if they’d laid it bare.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You were flattered— their words sincere, their intentions genuine as far as you could tell— but something inside you hesitated. “Is it not too soon to talk of being so taken with someone like this? It’s barely been three days since—”

Sirius’s faint smile softened further, his usual cocky demeanor tempered by a rare tenderness. “Then don’t say anything,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “Just think about it. That’s all we ask.”

You nodded slowly, your chest tight with a mix of uncertainty and something far warmer, something that made your heart ache in the most confusingly wonderful way. “I will,” you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

The three of them seemed to relax at your words, and James, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together with a grin. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, shall we order some food? I’m starving.”

The tension in the room broke like a wave, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound a welcome release after the intensity of the moment. 

“Food does sound good,” you admitted, allowing yourself a small smile.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you found yourself glancing at each of them in turn, the weight of their confession still lingering in the air between you.

You didn’t have all the answers yet, but for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment.

tag list: @amatoanima @wolfstar4everbitches @bugworldsworld @ilovejamespottersomuch @garden-h0bbit @dearmy-diary @yejiswifex @bmyva1entine @emerald-jade1 @miliokumura3 @amandinhagg @thewitchesofart

[favefandomimagines]

I Know Places 2 (r.c)

Summary: Rafe goes to Y/N at the bait shop and his presence is not celebrated

AN: part 2 of ‘I Know Places’ and I’m deciding to go the traditional route! I’m used to the old school way of fics so this will be fully written out and not SMAU! Though I do love how that’s on trend right now!

Previous part

The next morning, Y/N Maybank was up before the sun had fully risen, her mind too restless for sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning, debating whether or not to tell JJ and the Pogues about what happened at Tannyhill. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep secrets—she just didn’t know how to explain the strange feeling of being pulled into Rafe Cameron’s world, if only for a fleeting moment.

By the time the bait shop was ready to open, she was already elbow-deep in her morning routine: feeding the live bait, checking inventory, and wiping down the counters.

Summer was here, which meant the shop would soon be crawling with locals and tourists alike, and she needed everything to be in order.

The small bell above the door jingled, pulling her attention away from the tank of minnows. She glanced up to see Rafe Cameron standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders filled the frame, his usual air of arrogance replaced by something quieter.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N quirked a brow, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. “Rafe Cameron on the Cut? You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought.”

“Funny,” he replied, stepping closer. “How’s business?”

“It’s early,” she said flatly, then tilted her head. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” Rafe said, though his hand instinctively went to touch the bandage she had applied the night before. “Still aches.”

“Maybe now you’ll listen to me and see a doctor,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “What if you’ve got brain damage? You must have if you thought coming here was a good idea.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, but his expression quickly sobered. “I need to talk to you about last night.”

Y/N set the container of fish food on the counter, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

Rafe leaned against the counter, his blue eyes scanning the shop briefly before landing back on her. “How many people did you see leave the house?”

“Three,” she said slowly, thinking back to the shadowy figures slipping through the side gate. “They looked like men, but I couldn’t see their faces. They had black hoods on.”

She watched as Rafe’s jaw tightened and his eyes clouded over, clearly running through a mental list of possibilities. It didn’t take a genius to realize there was more to the break-in than he was letting on.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Y/N asked, her voice softer now.

Rafe shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe, someone broke into your house and assaulted you. You need to tell Shoupe,” Y/N said firmly.

“I’m sure they didn’t find what they were looking for,” he replied cryptically.

“What does that even mean?”

Rafe ignored the question, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I just... I wanted to see you. And to thank you again for helping me last night.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “It’s no problem,” she said, though her voice faltered slightly. “But you should probably go before JJ finds you talking to me.”

“Do you always do what JJ wants?” Rafe asked, but there was no malice in his voice.

Y/N hesitated, his question catching her off guard. Did people really think that? “No,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just that a fight is bad for business.”

Rafe returned her smile, a rare softness in his expression. He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Here. Put your number in. You know, in case I need another house call.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, her instinct screaming at her to say no. But Rafe seemed... different. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been consumed by grief and arrogance, still reeling from his father’s death and struggling to take over the family business. But now, he seemed calmer—more grounded, though still carrying an edge.

She grabbed his phone and began typing her number. Her head was screaming at her to not do it, don’t give him access. But she did it anyway.

“Rafe?”

Both their heads snapped toward the dock, where Sarah Cameron was walking toward the shop. Rafe stepped back from Y/N, his demeanor instantly shifting.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously.

“Thought someone broke into the house last night,” Rafe said smoothly. “I knew you parked outside when you went to that party, so I came to see if you saw anything.”

Before Sarah could respond, Y/N interjected. “I already told him I didn’t see anything. We were still at the party when it happened.”

“Someone broke into the house? Did they take anything? Are you okay?” Sarah questioned. “I’m fine. It didn’t look like they took anything. Just a window and a door I have to replace.” Rafe answered.

“I uh, gotta go, I’ll see you around.” He added, his gaze fleetingly on Y/N.

He walked past Sarah and up the dock, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t fully understand.

“Was he bothering you?” Sarah asked, stepping into the shop.

“No, no,” Y/N said quickly. “He just wanted to ask if we saw anything.”

But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Rafe’s visit meant something more. And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t entirely mind.

“JJ is going to freak when he finds out.” Sarah commented. “We don’t need to tell him. I’m sure Rafe came here looking for you but I was here.” Y/N quickly replied.

As Sarah stepped closer, Y/N busied herself with the container of fish food on the counter, her mind racing. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s presence lingering in the room, and her stomach twisted at the thought of Sarah catching onto something she hadn’t even figured out herself.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms as she studied her friend.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, hoping her casual demeanor would be enough to shut the conversation down. “Nothing.”

“Since when does Rafe come to you for answers?” Sarah’s tone was skeptical, her piercing gaze making Y/N feel like she was under a microscope. “And why didn’t he just ask me?”

“Maybe because you were at the party too?” Y/N said, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Sarah. He didn’t exactly give me his whole life story.”

Sarah frowned but didn’t press further, instead moving to grab a soda from the mini fridge behind the counter. “Still... I don’t like him showing up out of nowhere like that.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “What, you think he’s gonna rob the bait shop? Pretty sure we’re not hiding any family heirlooms in the minnow tank.”

Sarah snorted, but her expression remained thoughtful as she leaned against the counter. “I just don’t trust him, Y/N. You know how he is.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. Sarah wasn’t wrong—Rafe Cameron was trouble. He always had been. But last night, when he was bleeding and vulnerable, he didn’t feel like the same guy she’d written off.

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N said quietly. “But he’s your brother, Sarah. He can’t be all bad.”

Sarah gave her a sharp look, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re defending Rafe now?”

Y/N shook her head quickly. “No, I’m not defending him. I’m just saying... people can change, right?”

Before Sarah could respond, the bell above the door jingled again, and John B strolled in, followed closely by JJ, who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, ladies,” John B greeted with a grin, grabbing a bag of chips from the shelf. “What’s the gossip?”

“Rafe was here,” Sarah said bluntly, making both boys freeze in their tracks. Y/N glared at her friend, eyes saying ‘why the hell would you do that?’

“What?” JJ’s tone immediately turned sharp as he walked over to Y/N. “Why the hell was Rafe Cameron here?”

“Someone broke into his house,” Y/N said quickly, trying to downplay the situation. “Wanted to know if we saw anything suspicious last night. That’s it.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, and he let out a humorless laugh. “Since when does he care about what we saw? He’s up to something.”

“Relax, J,” Y/N said, placing a hand on his arm. “He wasn’t here to start trouble. He just... wanted answers.”

“Well, he better not come around again,” JJ muttered darkly, his protective instincts kicking in. “I don’t care what he wants. You don’t need to be talking to him.”

Y/N bristled at his tone, but before she could respond, Sarah spoke up. “Let’s not make this a thing. Rafe’s gone, and he’s not coming back here.”

JJ muttered something under his breath, clearly still annoyed, but he let it go for now. Y/N, however, felt a tinge of annoyance in her chest. She loved her brother, and it was just the two of them at the end of the day so it makes sense he’s protective. But he’s not her father, she’s 20 years old, she doesn’t need her brother telling her who she can and can’t talk to.

||

The fire crackled softly, its orange glow casting warm shadows on the Pogues as they lounged in the cool evening air. John B was sprawled out on the sand with Sarah curled up beside him, their laughter intertwining as they recounted the story of JJ’s infamous fight with Topper outside the country club.

“And then Shoupe shows up, and Y/N’s out here sweet-talking him like she’s auditioning for a soap opera!” JJ exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“Sweet-talking?” Y/N interjected from the hammock, her tone dripping with mock offense as she rolled another joint. “I’ll have you know I was using logic and reason to keep your ass out of juvie.”

Kie snorted. “Logic and reason? You told Shoupe Topper started it and then cried about how JJ was just trying to defend your honor.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a smug grin. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

JJ grinned back, leaning over to flick sand at her. “I owe you for that one, Sunshine.”

“Damn right you do,” Y/N quipped, expertly twisting the joint closed.

The group dissolved into another round of laughter, the kind that came easy after a long day and a few too many hits. Pope was stoking the fire while Cleo leaned against him, teasing him about his terrible impression of Shoupe. It was one of those rare nights where everything felt simple—just them, the stars, and the stories they carried.

“Hey, Sunshine!” JJ called, breaking through the chatter. “Toss me one of those masterpieces!”

Y/N smirked, flicking the newly rolled joint in his direction. JJ caught it with ease, holding it up like a trophy before lighting it.

As she reached for another paper, her phone buzzed against her thigh. She picked it up without much thought, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name.

Rafe.

The text was simple but enough to tug at her carefully guarded smile.

RC: Hey, Pretty Girl.

Y/N: Can I help you, Cameron?

RC: What are you doin’?

Y/N: Currently? I’m rolling a joint.

RC: Lol, save one for me?

Y/N: Maybe.

The next text froze her in place.

RC: Just wondering, is asking you out against doctor’s orders?

Her breath hitched, her mind racing. Was Rafe Cameron—Rafe Cameron—really asking her out? She stared at her phone for a moment too long, trying to process what this meant.

Y/N: Hm, that might be bad for your health

RC: What if we don’t tell anyone?

This wasn’t the Rafe she’d known before. The old Rafe was reckless, arrogant, and self-absorbed. But now? He felt different, quieter. Something had shifted, and Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

RC: Did I lose you, Pretty Girl?

She glanced around the fire. Her friends were laughing, oblivious, completely immersed in the stories of summers past. Sarah was teasing John B about his failed attempts at surfing, JJ was leaning back with a lazy grin, and Kie was high enough to be softly singing to herself.

Y/N was the odd one out—always had been in a way. The one without a partner, without a storybook romance. And yet, there was something undeniable about the way her chest had tightened in Rafe’s bathroom, how she’d felt something she couldn’t ignore.

Y/N: Better plan a good date

The reply came seconds later.

RC: Is that a yes?

Y/N: It’s a yes. Don’t mess it up.

Y/N set her phone down, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips as she leaned back in the hammock.

“Who are you texting?” Kie’s voice came from beside her, making Y/N jump. Kie had slid into the hammock, her eyes glassy but curious.

“My cousin,” Y/N lied smoothly, reaching for another paper. “We need more weed, and he’s got the good stuff.”

Kie leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her movements sluggish. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Y/N froze, the lie suddenly feeling heavy in her chest. “Of course, Kie,” she murmured, though her voice felt hollow.

“You’re my best friend,” Kie continued, her words slurring slightly. “You and me, we’re a team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly, guilt twisting in her stomach.

But as Kie drifted into a half-asleep haze against her shoulder, Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to Rafe. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something she could tell them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

[vamptizm]

v. MISSION JEALOUSY — p.bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis: in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings: angst. smut, cunnilingus (p receiving), scissoring, praise, bottom!paige i think?. kinda toxic!oc. no aftercare. basically porn with plot. do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

word count: 8.2k (longest shit i’ve ever written)

note: u can definitely tell that i’m not used to writing smut at all and that my literacy disappears when i try… anyway lmk if u wanna be added to the nonexistent taglist. like, comment below and subscribe and share this video with ur friends!

series masterlist

The faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet kitchen as Clover stood at the counter, her back to the doorway. She moved languidly, her curly hair loosely tied up, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder and a pair of shorts. A bowl of cereal sat in front of her, spoon in hand, as she focused on eating, ignoring the world around her.

Paige shuffled into the room moments later, her blonde hair a disheveled mess, eyes still half-closed from sleep. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, her bare feet making soft thuds against the tiled floor. She yawned as she made her way to the bathroom, rubbing at her face groggily.

When she returned, her attention fell immediately on Clover, who hadn't so much as turned her head in acknowledgment. Paige froze for a moment, her hand still on the bathroom door handle. ‘Really? Back to this already?’

The frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface since the night before bubbled up again. She thought the tension between them had eased after the game, but clearly, Clover wasn't on the same page.

Paige tried to mask her irritation, playing it cool as she strolled to the kitchen counter. Her tone was casual as she muttered, "Morning."

To her surprise, Clover responded immediately. "Morning," she said, her voice calm and unbothered, her focus still on her cereal.

Paige blinked, momentarily thrown off. There was no sarcasm, no venom—just a steady, neutral reply. It only confused her more.

But then, an image from the night before popped into Paige's head: the blonde waitress standing in the bleachers, holding up that ridiculous sign. The girl's smug face flashed vividly in her mind, reigniting the irritation she'd been trying to push down.

"Your girl looked real proud of herself at the game last night," Paige said, her voice laced with a hint of pettiness. She leaned against the counter, folding her arms. "You two dating or something?"

Clover paused mid-bite, her spoon poised in front of her lips. Slowly, she looked up, finally meeting Paige's gaze. Her expression was unreadable as she chewed and swallowed her cereal before replying, her voice flat.

"Why don't you focus on your game instead of my love life? Maybe then we wouldn't have almost lost."

The words hit Paige like a slap. Her mouth opened slightly in disbelief before she quickly snapped it shut. "Excuse me?" she retorted, straightening up. "If I remember right, you missed that wide-open three in the first quarter."

Clover smirked faintly, clearly unimpressed by Paige's attempt to shift the blame. "And yet we still won, didn't we? You're welcome, by the way," she shot back, her voice light and almost teasing.

Paige bristled. "Oh, don't act like you carried us. You—"

"Paige," Clover interrupted, her tone sharper now, though her expression remained maddeningly calm. "You played like a shitty teammate yesterday. I know that, the team and coach know it, and so do you, so let's stop the theatrics, 'kay?"

Paige clenched her jaw, struggling to come up with a rebuttal that wouldn't immediately backfire. She knew Clover was right, of course she was. The brunette, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, casually taking another spoonful of cereal.

But then Paige decided to double down, the memory of that waitress gnawing at her. "Or maybe you were too focused on your lover and I didn't trust you with the ball."

"Oh, my lover?" Clover mocked with a scoff, tilting her head slightly. "Why? Jealous?"

Paige scoffed, her cheeks burning. "Hardly. Just curious, that's all."

"Mhm," Clover hummed, leaning her hip against the counter as she turned fully toward Paige. Her smile widened slightly, teasing and sharp. "You sure? 'Cause you've been awfully focused on who's in my bed lately."

Paige stiffened, the words hitting harder than she wanted to admit. "I'm not—"

"Oh, you're not?" Clover interrupted smoothly, her eyes twinkling with mock sympathy. She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping an octave. "Then why do you sound so bothered, Paige? Why do you care so much?"

"I don't care," Paige shook her head lightly, her voice trying to imitate nonchalance.

"Could've fooled me," Clover replied with a soft laugh, her calm demeanor only fueling Paige's internal frustration.

She sighed dramatically, setting her spoon down with a clink. She turned fully to face Paige now, hands resting on the counter behind her, grinning and shaking her head as if to taunt the blonde. "You're so obsessed with me, aren't you?"

Paige scoffed with furrowed brows, her face almost flushing. "What? No, what—"

Before she could finish, Clover closed the distance between them in one swift movement, her hands landing firmly on Paige's hips as she backed her into the counter. Paige's breath hitched, her words dying in her throat.

Clover's gaze was steady, unapologetically taking her time as her eyes roamed over Paige, from her messy blonde hair to her hardened nipples under the thin shirt and sweatpants hanging low on her hips. The scrutiny was deliberate, almost predatory, and Paige found herself frozen under its weight.

"You've got a lot of opinions on who I fuck and don't, for someone who isn't obsessed with me." Clover said, her voice low and smooth, a stark contrast to the usual lightness it carried.

Paige swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come.

Clover's eyes lingered for a moment longer before she stepped back, releasing Paige as abruptly as she had grabbed her. "Eat something," she said over her shoulder as she returned to her cereal. "Maybe it'll help with whatever's got you so worked up."

Paige stood there, rooted to the spot, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, but all she could focus on was the lingering heat of Clover's touch and the smug smirk that played on her lips as she turned away.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, an episode of Grey's Anatomy playing in the background as Paige reclined on the couch. She was in her usual position—legs spread lazily, an arm slung over the backrest. Her attention wasn't entirely on the show, though. It never was when Clover was around. 

Paige glanced up briefly as the sound of light footsteps approached, only for her gaze to lock on Clover's figure. The smaller girl sauntered into the space with her usual effortless confidence, her short denim skirt swaying slightly with each step. A cropped jersey hugged her frame, exposing just enough of her toned midriff and shoulder as it hung off to catch Paige's undivided attention.

Clover didn't acknowledge her at first. Instead, she made a beeline for the coffee table, where a set of keys rested. Paige's jaw tensed as Clover stepped directly in front of her, purposely blocking her view of the TV. 

"Seriously?" Paige muttered, her tone low but not nearly annoyed enough to match her words. 

Clover didn't respond. She leaned over just enough to grab her keys, giving Paige an unimpeded view of her outfit—gold necklaces catching the light, a delicate waist chain glinting against her skin. Paige's eyes traveled down Clover's figure shamelessly, lingering on her exposed legs before snapping back up. She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. 

For a second, Paige considered telling her to move, the words forming instinctively in her throat. But that would mean Clover might actually leave, and she wasn't ready for that just yet. 

Clover straightened, her glossy lips curved into the faintest grin as she turned her head slightly, catching Paige's eyes for just a moment. "Problem?" she asked innocently, though her tone betrayed that she knew exactly what she was doing. 

Paige's mouth opened, but no words came out. She could feel heat creeping up the back of her neck, her usual composure faltering under Clover's playful gaze. 

Satisfied, Clover didn't wait for a response. She tossed her keys in the air once before catching them and pivoted on her heel, heading for the door. The sound of her shoes echoed in the room, and Paige let her eyes wander one last time as Clover's hips swayed with every step. 

The door shut softly behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening. Paige released a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her head dipping as if she could somehow shake off the tension. 

And yet, despite her irritation, she couldn't stop the small, almost involuntary smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. 

Paige couldn't stop thinking about her. No matter what she did—watching TV, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, even lying back and closing her eyes—Clover's image refused to leave her mind. It was maddening, like waking from a dream so vivid, so achingly perfect, that you'd do anything to slip back into it. 

Her thoughts were relentless, circling back to the girl over and over again. The way Clover looked when she was mad, her jaw set, eyes blazing with defiance. The way her hands had gripped Paige's collar the night prior, pulling her close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. Paige could still hear her voice, sharp and taunting, her words always laced with an angry edge that sent a shiver down her spine. 

And this morning? That was the worst of it. Clover had practically burned herself into Paige's memory. The teasing sway of her hips, the flash of her waist chain catching the light, the smug little smirk she threw over her shoulder as if she knew exactly what she was doing to Paige. 

But the moment that haunted Paige the most, the one she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried, was in the kitchen. Clover's hands on her hips, her grip firm, her body pressing close—too close—until Paige was caged against the counter. Her eyes had roamed Paige's body unapologetically, hunger blazing in them like an open flame. Paige had felt her breath hitch then, her pulse pounding in her ears, and the memory alone was enough to make her throat go dry now. 

It was all too much. The twisting heat in her stomach, the ache that gnawed at her with each passing second, was impossible to ignore. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension coiled tighter instead of easing. 

Finally, Paige gave in. With a sharp exhale, she reached for the remote and switched off the TV. The sudden quiet in the living room only seemed to amplify the storm raging in her mind. She stood abruptly, her legs moving on autopilot as she strode to her room. 

The door shut with a soft click behind her, but the sound felt deafening in the empty apartment. None of her roommates were home—not Clover, at least. Paige checked the time, knowing she had hours before anyone returned. 

But even as she stood in the middle of her room, hands braced on her hips, she couldn't escape the fire Clover had lit within her. It burned hot, consuming, leaving Paige feeling restless and craving something she knew she shouldn't want. Something she couldn't stop wanting. 

That's how Paige ended up laying on her bed, music playing in the background and her hand slid down the waistband of her sweatpants and boxers. It was to no surprise to the blonde, that she had already been soaked before she could even do anything. Her fingers rubbed slow circles, almost teasing herself with the chosen tempo. Images of Clover flashed her mind, her name escaping the blonde's lips like a mantra. It's not as if she didn't try to think of something, or someone else. She really did, but Clover's face, voice and body stuck. The sounds she'd made the last time Paige got to see her like that. Lips swollen, collarbones glistening and eyes dazed and cloudy. All of it drove her insane, her heart beating faster.

Her movements picked up in pace, soft and quiet whimpers and moans turning louder the more her pleasure built up. Biting her bottom lip did near to nothing to help her hold the noises back.

The music that continued to play in the background was loud enough to drown out the sound of the front door opening and clicking shut again, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sinful sounds seeping through from behind Paige's door. Clover only stood there, her weight leaned against the wall next to the girl's room door and her arms crossed. A smirk played on her lips, tongue poking against the inside of her cheek.

The debate that unfolded in her head was a tough one. Should she just go to her own room and pretend as if she hadn't heard anything, or should she open that door and give the Paige exactly what she seemed to need.

"Fuck, Clo." Paige's whiny voice rang through her ears, and the way her nickname sounded coming from her was enough to make the brunette crack.

Her hand reached out for the handle, the metal cold under her skin as she pushed it down, the door opening with a soft click. One that Paige seemed to miss, because when Clover slowly and quietly stepped in, her eyes were still closed, hand still down her pants and soft whimpers still coming out of her.

Paige was still unaware of the company. She was too caught up in the moment, her hand stilling abruptly only when the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the quiet room. Her head snapped toward the doorway, wide eyes meeting Clover's figure leaning casually against the frame.

Arms crossed over her chest, Clover wore an expression of pure amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips. The heat was rising to her neck and face, but she'd rarely been the type to visibly flush pink. Her dark eyes glimmered with something Paige couldn't quite decipher—teasing, yes, but there was something else, something that made the blonde's stomach flip in a way she wasn't prepared for.

Paige's hand darted out from under the waistband of her pants as if she'd been burned, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "Fuck—I didn't think anyone would be home yet," she stammered, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. She refused to meet Clover's gaze, as though her embarrassment might subside if she avoided the intensity of the brunette's attention.

Clover only shrugged, entirely unfazed. "One of my classes got canceled," she explained nonchalantly, pushing herself off the doorframe and taking a slow step into the room. "Lucky me, huh?"

The teasing lilt in her voice made Paige's heart race even faster, and the silence that followed was deafening. Clover let it stretch just long enough to make Paige squirm, her gaze unrelenting as it roamed over the blonde with unapologetic curiosity.

And then Clover spoke again, her tone shifting—low, sultry, and taunting. "Do you need help with that?"

Paige froze, her breath hitching as the words registered. Her thoughts scrambled, a million excuses and denials flashing through her mind, but none of them stuck. Instead, her body betrayed her, and before she could stop herself, she nodded. Quick, almost desperate, the motion came faster than she intended.

Clover's smirk widened, satisfaction dripping from the curve of her lips as she closed the distance between them. The door clicked softly shut behind her, the sound sending a shiver down Paige's spine.

Paige's pulse thrummed wildly as Clover reached the bed, the brunette's movements deliberate and unhurried. Paige's breath caught when Clover swung a leg over her, settling into her lap with effortless confidence.

Paige's back pressed deeper into the mattress as Clover leaned in, their faces just inches apart. Clover's fingers trailed along Paige's arm, featherlight, teasing, and when Paige finally met her gaze, she found herself drowning in the intensity of those dark, hungry eyes.

"You should've locked the door," Clover murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but no less commanding. "Not that I'm complaining."

Paige swallowed hard, her breath shallow and uneven. She wasn't sure if it was the weight of Clover on her lap or the brunette's piercing gaze that had her feeling so unmoored. Or maybe, it was her skirt riding up just enough to give the blonde a small peek of the color of her panties. Either way, the heat blooming beneath her skin was undeniable.

"I didn't think anyone would walk in," Paige muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clover's smirk didn't falter; if anything, it deepened. "Or maybe that's exactly what you wanted." Her fingers brushed against Paige's shoulder now, a featherlight touch that sent shivers racing down her spine.

Paige shifted beneath her, unsure if she was trying to pull away or lean into the touch. Clover didn't move, her composure steady and commanding, like she was in complete control of the situation—and maybe she was.

"You're so quiet now," Clover mused, her voice soft but teasing. "Not so bold when you're not in charge, huh?"

Paige's cheeks flushed deeper, a color Clover clearly noticed because she let out a quiet chuckle—low and knowing. "Relax," she murmured, leaning in just enough for Paige to feel the brush of her breath against her ear. " 'M not gonna bite... unless you want me to."

The words sent a jolt through Paige, and she turned her head, finally meeting Clover's eyes again. There was something playful in the brunette's expression, but beneath it, an intensity Paige couldn't ignore.

"Clover," Paige started, but her voice cracked, betraying her attempt at calmness.

"Hmm?" Clover tilted her head, feigning innocence.

Paige's hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching as if trying to anchor herself. "I don't... I don't think this is a good idea," she managed to say, though the words came out uneven.

Clover leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment. "And why's that?" she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing but no less curious. Attentive.

Paige opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Her thoughts were too tangled—caught somewhere between the electrifying tension of the moment and the gnawing doubt in the back of her mind. She couldn't look away, though, not when Clover was this close, her dark eyes searching Paige's face with such quiet confidence.

“Thought so.”

After a long pause, Clover spoke again, her voice gentle. "If you want me to stop, just say the words."

The sincerity in her tone startled Paige. For all her teasing and playful bravado, Clover wasn't pushing—she was offering a way out. Paige's chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought about taking it. But instead, she shook her head, the movement small and hesitant but clear.

Clover's smirk returned, softer this time, and she leaned back in closer. "Good," she whispered, her hands settling lightly on Paige's shoulders. " 'Cause I wasn't ready to leave anyway."

She straightened, her dark eyes never leaving Paige’s flushed face as her hands slowly slid down the blonde’s arms. Her fingers moved with purpose, tracing the soft curve of muscle and bone, lingering just long enough to leave a faint, electric trail in their wake. When she reached the hem of Paige’s shirt, she paused, her fingers toying with the fabric as though testing the weight of the moment.

Her gaze flicked up, brown eyes locking onto blue. There was no rush, no demand—just a silent question, one that Clover didn’t need to voice. Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling unevenly, before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. That was all Clover needed.

In one fluid motion, Clover pushed the shirt up, the fabric gathering as it rose along Paige’s torso. Paige arched her back slightly, her shoulders lifting from the mattress to help, and the shirt slipped off with ease, leaving her pale torso and chest bare under Clover’s attentive gaze.

For a moment, Clover stilled, taking her time as her eyes swept over Paige’s form. Every mole, every curve, every shadow and line of her body seemed to command her attention. It wasn’t just a glance—it was as though she was memorizing her, committing her to the deepest recesses of her mind.

The words that rose in Clover’s throat felt too raw, too close to the parts of herself she usually kept hidden. She swallowed them down, opting instead for the kind of playful charm she always fell back on.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Clover’s lips curved into a grin, her tongue darting out to swipe along the edge of her teeth as she spoke. The compliment was delivered casually, almost cheekily, but the fire in her gaze betrayed the depth of her admiration.

Her hands moved again, this time trailing upward. Her palms came to rest softly on Paige’s chest, her touch firm but not overbearing. She gave a gentle squeeze, her thumbs brushing lightly against smooth skin. Paige’s breath hitched audibly, and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she fought to contain the small sounds threatening to escape her.

Clover leaned in closer, her knees shifting against the mattress to position herself more comfortably. She was hovering now, her body poised above Paige’s, one hand planted beside the blonde’s head for balance. The other hand slid to her waist, her grip light but grounding.

Her lips found Paige’s shoulder first, the kiss soft but deliberate, her breath warm against her skin. Slowly, Clover began her descent, her mouth tracing a line down Paige’s collarbone, lingering in places just long enough to leave a faint sting of warmth in her wake. Paige’s breathing grew shallow, uneven, and Clover could feel the tremor beneath her lips as they moved lower.

Each kiss was unhurried, as though Clover was savoring every inch of Paige’s skin. Her own breathing grew heavier as she moved, the tension between them palpable in the charged silence of the room. Every soft sound Paige made—every faint sigh, every quiet intake of breath—spurred Clover on, her lips trailing lower, igniting a fire that neither of them seemed inclined to extinguish.

Clover's lips paused just above Paige's ribs, her

breath brushing against the sensitive skin. She glanced up, her dark eyes catching the blonde's, searching for any hint of hesitation. Paige's flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips were all the confirmation Clover needed. 

With calculated slowness, Clover shifted her weight, her free hand sliding down Paige's side. Her fingertips danced along the curve of her waist before finding her hip, her grip tightening just enough to ground them both. She pressed a lingering kiss just below Paige's ribcage, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she heard the faint, shaky exhale it elicited. 

"You're holding your breath," Clover teased, her voice low and teasing as she lifted her head slightly, her lips brushing against Paige's skin as she spoke. "Relax for me, Blondie." 

Paige's cheeks darkened further, her hands nervously fidgeting with the blanket beneath her. "Easy for you to say," she muttered, her voice soft but laced with a nervous laugh. "You're not the one being—" 

"Admired?" Clover finished for her, arching a brow. She grinned, her lips trailing back upward until they hovered near Paige's ear. "Trust me, you've got nothing to be nervous about." 

The words were meant to be reassuring, but they carried a weight that made Paige's breath catch for the umpteenth time. Clover's tone was light, but her gaze was anything but—it was heavy, intense, and filled with an undeniable hunger. 

Clover straightened slightly, her hand moving from Paige's waist to her jaw, gently tilting her face upward. "Tell me if you want me to stop," she murmured, her thumb brushing over the curve of Paige's cheek. 

Paige shook her head quickly, her blonde hair splaying across the pillow as her voice came out in a quiet, trembling whisper. "Don't stop." 

Clover's grin softened into something almost tender as she leaned down, their faces mere inches apart. "I won’t," she reassured, her breath warm against Paige's lips. 

This time, when Clover kissed her, it wasn't teasing or lighthearted—it was slow, deep, and deliberate. The world seemed to melt away as their lips moved together, the kiss carrying all the heat and intensity that had been building between them. Paige's hands instinctively moved to Clover's back, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as though she needed something to anchor herself. 

Clover's hand slid from Paige's jaw to her neck, her touch firm but gentle as she deepened the kiss. Time seemed to blur, each second stretching into eternity as they lost themselves in each other. The only sounds were the faint rustle of the bedspread, their uneven breathing, and the quiet hum of tension that filled the room. 

When they finally pulled apart, Clover rested her forehead against Paige's, her dark eyes searching the blue ones beneath her. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling as they tried to steady themselves. 

Clover's lips continued their path, slow and intentional, leaving another warm, tingling trail as they ventured lower. She savored the way Paige shivered under her touch, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Clover's fingers curled just beneath the waistband of Paige's sweatpants.

She paused, her lips hovering just above Paige's navel as her knuckles brushed up and down the smooth, pale skin at her waist. What had her captivated was the way Paige's body responded to her every move—the slight arch of her back, the soft gasp when Clover's knuckles ghosted over her skin.

She tugged slightly, just enough to tease, her touch grazing lower. Paige's breathing was uneven as Clover pressed another kiss to her hipbone, leaving her teetering on the edge of anticipation. She felt like her body was being lit on fire, almost as if somebody had entirely doused her in gasoline, Clover's touch and lips against her skin being the lit match igniting the fire.

"Been wanting to eat this pussy for a while," she murmured, and with that, she eased the fabric down, taking her time, savoring every inch of Paige's bare skin as it was revealed, who was practically almost kicking her pants and boxers off.

There she was, in all of her glory for the brunette to admire and take in. The world outside the room disappeared entirely, leaving only the quiet rustle of fabric and the sound of the blonde's uneven breaths filling the air.

For once, Clover didn't waste any more time, her body shuffling down enough to where she was facing the girl's dripping cunt. Her hands gripped Paige's left thigh, swiftly swinging it over her shoulder for better access. She had to take a deep, subtle breath— filling her lungs with desperately needed oxygen as she took in the sight.

Clover’s lips followed suit, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the inside of one thigh, and then the other. Her movements were unhurried, almost reverent, as though she had all the time in the world and no intention of rushing something so intimate. Each kiss was a silent promise, a wordless expression of affection and desire, and it made Paige’s head spin like it never had before.

It wasn’t just the touch—it was the care, the attention, the way Clover’s every action seemed to whisper that Paige was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

And for Paige, that feeling was almost overwhelming. It was foreign, like a language she had never bothered to learn.

"Wanna taste you," The brunette whispered, her voice thick with desire as she looked up at the blonde.  "It's only fair you let me return the favour." She wanted to make Paige feel good, to make her scream her name. Wanted to give her pleasure like she had never experienced before.

Paige could feel herself getting lost in Clover's chocolate brown irises, in real time speed, hyper aware of everything about the girl. Her eyes, her warm breath against where Paige needed her most, her somewhat rough and veiny hands from playing so much basketball stroking her skin. It all felt heavenly and she was sure that she never wanted this to end as she only nodded her head in response, not trusting her own voice.

That was all it took for Clover to delve in, her tongue flatly licking a long stripe up her folds. The small, airy moan that followed was like music to her ears, only encouraging her to keep going. Clover couldn't help but press a few open mouthed kisses before going back to working her tongue against Paige. The taste was heavenly— near to intoxicating.

It wasn't the first time that Paige had somebody go down on her, not even the fifth or tenth, but for some reason, this time it felt completely different from all the other times. As if Clover was doing it for her own pleasure, perhaps enjoying it more than the blonde herself.

Paige's hand landed on the back of the girl's head, subconsciously pushing her face further down, and luckily Clover wanted nothing more than to be impossibly close to her core.

She felt like she was being burned alive. She propped herself up on her elbows, determined to look down at Clover while the girl continued to messily lick and suckle

"Fuck, Ma. Doing so good." Paige couldn't stop herself from praising the brunette's efforts, a satisfied grin on her lips while her hand reached back down to brush a stray strand of her hair back.

Clover grinned at the praise, her tongue working more urgently, her hands gripping Paige's hips, holding her close. She could feel her arousal growing, body responding to Clover's touch. She increased the pressure of her tongue, repeatedly flicking it against the girl's clit, her hand snaking up to cup Paige's tits, thumb teasing her hardened nipple.

Her soft moans filled the room, and Clover could feel her body trembling beneath her. She continued her ministrations, determined to make this the best experience, sloppily shaking her head from side to side like a starved man, lapping up everything Paige was offering. Gluttony adorned Clover as she wanted to consume her entirely. "You sound so fucking pretty. Anyone ever tell you that?" She pulled away briefly to speak.

Despite all of it— the sin, the unholy sounds and actions, Paige could still feel her face flush pink, somehow growing shy at the unexpected praise. Her heart thudded in her chest as she shook her head, her grip tight on the now messed up bedsheets.

Clover halted, raising a brow in surprise. How could no one have told her that before, when she sounded as soft and angelic as an angel? The complete opposite of her public image. "Shame. We both know that no one can make you feel like I do. They're too selfish to touch you like I do." Clover mumbled against her sopping cunt, causing another whine to escape her at the words.

Paige continued to watch Clover, the sight of the girl in between her legs, feverishly licking and sucking on her cunt was almost as pleasurable as the feeling itself. By this point, Paige was a whiny and whimpery mess, Clover's name leaving her lips like a memorized prayer, her hands uncontrollably pushing the brunette’s head further down.

Paige's other leg had hooked itself over her shoulder, the other hand placing itself over the brunette's hand groping her tits, encouraging her to be as rough as she liked while the girl continued to lap up at her. "Clo, fuck, Baby."

Clover hummed against Paige at the use of her nickname, sending vibrations up her core. Her fingers digging into her hips as she felt her body tense. She loved the taste of her, the sound of her voice, the way her body responded to her touch. Clover increased the pressure and speed of her tongue, her fingers pinching Paige’s nipple harder, grip tightening. She could basically feel Paige's heart pounding, breath coming out in short gasps. Clover wanted to bring her to the edge and then push her over

"That's it, baby," she murmured against Paige’s core, her voice husky with desire. "Cum for me. Make a mess on my face, yeah?" She could feel it, the tension in Paige's body, the way her muscles clenched and released.

There was no denying that Paige was dangerously close, the longer and hungrier Clover continued to eat her out, the tighter the knot inside her tummy got. Clover's words of encouragement and praise only fuelled Paige's pleasure, dragging her closer and closer to the edge. By this point, she had given up on propping herself up, sacrificing the sight of the brunette to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m so close—“

It wasn't long before she felt her climax creeping up on her, until it suddenly hit her like a truck, allowing her to fall and crumble apart against Clover's tongue. The girl's name left Paige's lips over and over, chanting it like a mantra, a chain and series of cuss words escaping her as she came down from her orgasm.

Clover could feel Paige's body tremble as she came, sweet release flooding her mouth and soaking the bottom half of her face. She swallowed, her gaze still focused on the blonde's cunt, a smile spreading across her face.

She pulled back, a string of saliva mixed with arousal connected to her lips and the girl's core before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her body aching with need as she pushed Paige's legs off her shoulders. She sat up, gazing down at the blonde, her chest heaving, breath coming out in short pants.

Clover leaned back, her weight shifting off Paige for a moment as her hands slid to the hem of her own shirt. The golden glow of the setting sun streamed through the window, casting a soft light over her, highlighting every curve and shadow of her form. As she moved, the long gold necklaces around her neck swayed gently, catching the light and adding an almost hypnotic rhythm to her movements. 

She paused, glancing down at Paige with a small, teasing smile. 

Paige was still catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her flushed face was framed by her tousled blonde hair, and her blue eyes remained fixed on Clover, wide and slightly dazed. She looked almost enchanted, like she couldn't believe this was happening, like she didn't want to miss a single second of what came next. 

Clover slowly lifted her shirt, further revealing not just the toned lines of her stomach but the tattoos that adorned her skin. Fine lines drawing a cybersigilistic design that rested just beneath her breasts and along her ribs, curving slightly with her movement. Another intricate design spanned her womb, a soft but striking contrast against her smooth skin. The details were mesmerizing, yet understated. 

The fabric peeled away like the layers of a gift being unwrapped, and Paige's gaze followed the movement, her lips parting as her breath hitched again. 

"Enjoying the view?" Clover teased softly, her voice low and playful as she tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly to the side. 

Paige swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink as she nodded wordlessly. Her eyes flickered between Clover's face, her jewelry, and her newly exposed skin, lingering on the delicate gold waist chain that rested against her hips and the black-lace bra. It seemed to frame her tattoos, drawing attention to the soft lines and curves of her body. 

Clover's smirk softened into something more tender as she reached for the button of her skirt, her fingers working at the closure with practiced ease. She kept her movements slow, calculated, letting Paige's gaze linger. There was something deeply satisfying about the way Paige looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. 

"Breathe, Blondie," Clover said with a small laugh, her tone light but warm. 

Paige let out a shaky laugh of her own, exhaling deeply as she ran a hand through her messy hair. "I... I'm breathing," she murmured, though her voice was barely above a whisper. 

Clover's smile grew, a mix of confidence and affection flashing in her dark eyes. "Good job," she praised simply, stepping out of her skirt with the same slow grace. When she straightened up again, her hands on her hips, the sunlight glinted off her necklace and waist chain, her tattoos shifting slightly with ever movement. She took a step closer to the bed, watching as Paige's gaze traveled upward to meet hers. 

"You're beautiful," Paige said suddenly, the words spilling out unfiltered, her voice tinged with awe. 

The comment caught Clover off guard, and for a brief second, the teasing façade cracked, replaced by something raw and genuine. Her lips curved into a softer smile, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Paige's face. 

"Thank you," Clover whispered, her voice gentle and sincere. 

For a moment, they just stayed like that, the air between them heavy with a charged silence that felt more intimate than any words or actions. Then Clover climbed back onto the bed, her motions slow and purposeful, as if savoring the closeness they were about to share again.

Clover moved to get on her knees, peeling her panties off and unhooking her bra, before throwing both to the floor, leaving her just as bare and exposed as Paige. She grabbed a pillow next to the girl's head, patting her hips for Paige to lift them so that she could place the pillow under her.

Clover's arm gently lifted Paige's left leg up, eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of the girl's still sopping cunt before hooking that leg over her chest and on her shoulder. Before doing anything else, Clover stroked and caressed Paige's thigh to relax the girl and her muscles.

"Don't know if I can take it. Too sensitive." Paige mumbled quietly.

The brunette only grinned, her eyes cloudy and her voice low. "You can and you will."

It didn't take long for Clover to throw one leg over Paige’s other thigh and lower herself on the blonde under her, their cores finally meeting as electricity sparked all throughout their bodies, a small and satisfied moan leaving the blonde's lips.

"Damn, Baby. You're still soaked." Clover chuckled as she grinded against the girl's cunt, playfully teasing in hopes of helping her relax further and let loose. She didn't want the atmosphere to be serious.

Paige's body arched up into Clover's, her hands gripping her hips. She wanted more, wanted them to be impossibly close. To melt into one.

The brunette let her head fall back, eyes fluttering shut as she began to grind against Paige, the sensation and pleasure sending shivers down her spine. She let out a soft, needy moan, her body responding to Paige's touch, whose hands were still firmly clasping her hips. "I'm supposed to be doing the work."

"Can't have that, Mama." Paige mumbled breathlessly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she guided Clover's hips up and down.

All that could be heard next, was the sound of wet squelching and soft, needy moans and whimpers from both Clover and Paige. The room felt hot and suffocating, the smell of sex filling the air as both of them panting for more oxygen.

"Words, Paige. I need words." Clover demanded firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh of the blonde's thigh against her chest. "Tell me how I'm making you feel." She continued to rock her hips against Paige's, trying to hold back her own moans as much as possible, but that proved to almost be pointless.

Paige looked absolutely stunning beneath her—straight out of an erotic painting—fucked out face, parted lips and rosy cheeks. Clover couldn't stop herself from placing soft kisses against her thigh, her hand reaching down to intertwine her fingers with Paige's, the other gripping the leg closer to her chest.

Paige let out a strangled moan, her blue eyes meeting Clover's brown, body trembling with need and her heart still thudding in her chest. "You feel so fucking good. Making me feel good." she panted, her voice thick with lust. "So soft ‘nd wet. Can't get enough of you, Ma."

Her hips once again bucked against the brunette's, fingers tightening around Clover’s as they continued to hold hand "Fuck, Clover, please." She whispered, her voice barely a whisper. She could feel her muscles tightening, losing herself in the sanctuary of pleasure, her heart pounding and skin burning

Paige's breath hitched again, her hands instinctively gripping Clover's waist as if grounding herself, her fingertips brushing against the delicate chain wrapped around Clover's hips. The sensation of the cool metal against her heated skin sent another wave of shivers through her body, and she closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. 

"I... I need..." Paige stammered softly, her voice trembling under Clover's knowing gaze. She couldn't quite get the words out, her usual confidence completely shattered, leaving her bare and vulnerable beneath the brunette's smoldering intensity. 

Clover tilted her head, her dark brown eyes locking onto Paige's as her fingers trailed along the side of her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. "You need what, Baby?" she asked, her voice a whisper of mischief and affection. Her hand traced a slow, deliberate path from Paige's neck to her collarbone, pausing to toy with a loose strand of golden hair before moving lower. 

Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Clover's steady weight. "I need you," she finally admitted, her voice whiny and barely above a whisper but raw with sincerity. Her hands slid up Clover's back, brushing against the intricate ink curling around her ribs, the warmth of her touch drawing an audible sigh from Clover's lips. “Need to cum so bad.”

Clover's smirk softened into something gentler, more intimate. "Good girl," she murmured, her tone a blend of praise and satisfaction. She dipped her head slightly, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige's mouth, still teasing, still withholding just enough to leave the blonde aching for more. 

Their bodies moved together again, Clover's necklace and waist chain catching the soft light and reflecting delicate patterns onto Paige's flushed skin while dangling over her. Clover's lips hovered just a breath away from Paige's, and the tension between them reached its breaking point. With one last whisper, Clover's voice turned molten. "Whenever you're ready." 

Clover's words hung in the air, each one a soft promise that vibrated through Paige's chest, making her heart race all over again. She could feel the weight of Clover's presence pressing down on her, not just physically but emotionally, as if Clover were holding a piece of her in the palm of her hand.

Paige exhaled slowly, her body still trembling from the tension that Clover had so expertly drawn out of her. There was an intimacy to the moment that felt different from anything she'd known before, a deep connection that swirled in the space between them, weaving tighter with every shared breath. She wanted to say something, to reassure Clover or maybe to find the words to express the overwhelming pull she felt, but her thoughts scattered as Clover's fingers brushed over her waist, sending sparks of warmth where they touched.

The blonde's muscles tensed, her hips bucking against Clover's once more, blunt nails digging into the skin of her hips as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves, sweeping her away like a sandcastle built near the shore. She cried out Clover's name, her vision blurring as she rode out the orgasm, her body trembling. Paige had almost missed the way Clover was quick to follow along, brought over the edge by the sight of the blonde beneath her.

Clover's chest rose and fell heavily, her breathing uneven as she stayed poised above Paige. For a moment, she felt herself softening, the sight of Paige sprawled beneath her—a mixture of flushed cheeks, mussed blonde hair, and half-lidded blue eyes—making her hesitate. Paige looked so beautiful in her afterglow, so raw and unguarded. A quiet part of Clover wanted to stay, to lean down and press a lingering kiss to her lips, to let herself feel the intimacy of the moment instead of running from it.

But then the memory crept in, uninvited.

It hit Clover like a sharp jab to the chest—the last time they had been in a position similar to this, how Paige had left her without a second glance. Her jaw tightened subtly, and she straightened up, the decision crystallizing in her mind. If Paige could leave her like she didn’t matter, then Clover could do the same.

Her fingers twitched as she quickly sat up, no longer interested in being close. No longer interested in lingering in the warmth of Paige's body. The image of Paige's face—beautiful, bizarrely innocent, but so distant—made her blood boil, and she stood abruptly, pulling herself together before Paige even had a chance to react.

She didn't look back. Didn't wait for the moment to dissolve into some kind of apology or shared understanding. With swift movements, Clover gathered her underwear from the floor, pulling them on with mechanical precision, trying not to focus on the tightness in her chest or the way her hands shook ever so slightly as she dressed.

Paige's voice broke the tension in the room, but Clover didn't even flinch at the confusion in it. The blonde's breathless question cut through the air, but Clover's heart was already somewhere else. Somewhere colder. Somewhere removed.

"Where are you going?" Paige asked, her voice was small, still carrying the traces of what they had just shared.

Clover's gaze flickered over Paige for the briefest of moments—just long enough to see the furrow in her brow, the question in her eyes. She almost felt something—regret, maybe—but it was drowned out by the sting of that memory. She couldn't afford to be soft now. She couldn't afford to care.

"I got a date in less than an hour," Clover said, her voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside of her. She didn't give Paige the courtesy of another glance as she pulled her shirt over her head, the fabric falling into place as if she were shedding some piece of herself along with it.

With a final glance at the room, Clover turned and walked out, each step harder than the last. The door clicked softly behind her, leaving Paige in a stunned silence, her mind racing, her body still warm from the aftermath of what had just happened.

Paige lay there, staring at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their shared moment. But instead of the satisfaction she had expected, she also felt hollow. Something in her chest felt empty, as if the pieces of her that had once been tethered to the moment had been pulled away, leaving her exposed and uncertain.

The confusion that filled her just moments before quickly turned to something else—regret, maybe, or perhaps guilt. She hadn't meant to hurt Clover. She hadn't known that leaving that night would leave such a lasting mark, but the coldness that Clover had shown her now... it stung.

As the minutes stretched on in the silence that Clover had left behind, Paige realized something. The distance between them was more than just physical. It was emotional, and it ran deeper than she had thought. She could feel it, that growing gap. Clover had shut down, and Paige had no idea how to bridge the divide that was suddenly so wide and unspoken.

Her breath came shallow and quick, her hands clenching into the sheets as she replayed the last few seconds over and over in her mind. Clover had mentioned a date. A date.

The thought hit her like a bucket of ice water, dousing any lingering haze of satisfaction from her mind. Confusion and guilt twisted in her chest, but it didn’t take long for something sharper to bubble to the surface. Annoyance.

"Really?" Paige muttered to herself, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She tugged her shirt back over her head with more force than necessary, her jaw tightening. The image of Clover’s nonchalant expression as she casually mentioned going on a date burned into her mind, setting her teeth on edge.

Jealousy twisted its way through her stomach like a knot, coiling tighter with every passing second. She couldn’t help the questions that began racing through her mind. Who was the date with? Someone Clover actually liked? Someone better than her? Was it that same waitress?

The thought made her stomach churn. Clover leaving so abruptly, leaving her this time, stung more than Paige wanted to admit. It left her feeling unmoored, exposed in a way she wasn’t used to.

Paige hated how much it bothered her. And she hated the idea of Clover going to someone else, smiling that same teasing smile, leaving someone else breathless and wanting.

Her scowl deepened, her heart racing in a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to longing. She didn’t know if she wanted to pull Clover back or push her further away.

taglist (open) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @ohmybueckers

[vifilms]

ಣ՞˚.┊ TWO LOVERS & AN OAK TREE

feat. duchess!abby x princess!reader

warnings. none really, this is a pure fluff fest with minimial angst splashed in the beginning, bad writing probably.

summary. caught in the quarrels of desires and duty, the aging duchess finds herself trapped in a craving she's sure cannot be satiatied, not until she has you.

duchess!abby who is known as the pariah of new york society. as much as her father tells her it doesn't bother him, she knows on some level it has too. it's silly to think it's only due to the fact of pursuing what she likes. at times, it drowns her, knowing she can't just be a bystander, but she tries to do it quietly. because of who her father is, abby's brother, her — all of it is inescapable. stupidly, they judged solely because she much rather preferred the women in tightened baby blue corsets and intricate ballgowns than the balding men with receding hairlines looking for their wives to take care of them, rather than searching for genuine connection. it didn’t really matter much anyways, abby would never want the life her father dreamed for her, kind man or not. she’d never want them the same way they pine after her. even if it was just a title they chased, but abby always thought it was more. every single candidate wanted to be the one to change her, break her into submission, be the one who reforms her from being a dyke.

duchess!abby who only gets by on her family name, a constant reminder her brother likes to make. it burns every time he says the world will never be ready for someone like you. there's time where abby starts to truly believe him. it's when she drowned her weight in bourbon, trying to forgot how much she hates herself for not being able to love a man, marry a man, swallow her personal desires and just give her father what he craves. but she can’t. she’ll never be able to, no matter how much shame it brings her family.

duchess!abby who doesn’t think much of it when her father tells her they’ll be hosting two siblings who unexpectedly lost both of their parents. she decides to make herself scarce when they arrive, abby doesn’t need the reminder of the grief she once felt. abby keeps herself busy in the study, tends to her required responsibilities. she hides, arguably what she’s best at.

duchess!abby who physically becomes aware of your presence when she faces you for the first time. abby had watched you from a distance but it’s precisely where it came to a halt. even if she knew it wasn’t the best idea, she couldn’t help herself. watching through precarious windows, slumped against a tree as your voice managed to pull her from a lively read, passing the hall and stopping to watch as her own brother, jackson, attempts to flirt but your eyes catch hers and abby would scurry in a blink of an eye. it’s the closest circumstance she could be with you. especially with her family after your title, but jackson seems to be positively smitten with you. he likes to think it was written in the stars, the two of you were fated or at least to him. the duke and the princess has a fine ring to it and their father had been a dog with a bone, pushing with a certain ending in sight. 

duchess!abby who is shocked to see you walk away from the her brother, who is clearly frustrated as you leave him alone by the front doors with your back turned. abby lets her eyes leave you. she has to. nothing good ever comes from tripping over women who she can’t have. you can never be hers, even if her idiot of a brother wasn’t involved, she couldn’t be with you in the way she wishes for. 

duchess!abby who tries greatly to keep away from you, but you do no such thing. you meet her next to the fountain in the garden abby finds solace in. you’re not speaking as you inch closer and closer to her, the tumbling feeling reels abby towards you — certainly doesn’t even seem fair at this point. she tries not to focus on the sweet scent of your body wash. lavender? eucalyptus? both? maybe. you haven’t said two words to her and abby is dying to dive between your thighs, touch your soft skin, kiss your stupidly perfect lips. truly, it’s entirely pathetic how quickly you turn her into a hormonal teenager, but it isn’t the case. not anymore. it flows through her bloodstream, crawling it’s way into her heart, itching for one taste of you. abby has to remind herself you can’t possible feel the same. a princess, it’s what you are, a beautiful, breathtaking royal who will find her match. if you knew the desire to take over her very essence, you’d be disgusted by her.

duchess!abby who can feel your eyes on looking up, trying to get her attention, but she knows once you have it she’ll never be able to let go. so, she takes another swing of the bourbon hoping the burn will ease the unsettling thought of you with her brother. it won’t but the thought it might could be comforting.

duchess!abby who tries to hide the strong-willed smile tempting to worm it’s way, your voice coaxing it out like a vixen. it’s natural the way you talk to her, like you’ve done it a thousand times before, going in explicit detail about her day. you make some stupid joke, it’s so dumb, but abby laughs. you smile, feeling like it’s a reward to receive just an ounce of her attention. she’s stubborn, difficult — but she’s different. anyone looking at her would tell you she’s different, but you can’t help but admire the way she looks in a white button up, underneath her black vest. she really isn’t anything a duchess should be, she presents herself more like a duke, but you’re so intrigued by her. so, you’re saying stupid jokes, once the first one rolls, you can’t stop.

duchess!abby who lets you get close to her after the first nights the two of you talked. you start meeting abby every day in the garden. you open to her about everything, trusting her almost immediately. she offers to take you on walks, the first three walks were platonic. conservatively, her hands held behind a strong back afraid her touch might burn you. abby’s built a strong wall around her, specifically catered to keep others out. day by day, her resolve slowly seemed to wither away the more time she spent with you.

duchess!abby who realizes just how much she cares about you when she lets you set in front of her, abby’s back resting against her favorite tree with you nestled warmly between her thighs. she takes note how your body slumps, your corset gone for the nightly rendezvous. abby lets her big hands roam your plush stomach, your slip is made of silk and it’s soft to touch. she can feel the way your body twitches as her thumbs rub delicate circles at your hips. you hum her name quietly, as if it’s supposed to help abby. everyone else, the women who had shown their interest are nothing compared to you. meaningless night caps to make her feel less lonely, but you? she’s starting to wonder if she is falling, hopelessly and abundantly, in love with you.

duchess!abby who doesn’t take the opportunity to kiss you then. she thinks about it constantly. irrevocably imprinted on her mind, she plays over your smile, the way you press impossibly close to her body, your delicate hands never leaving her thick thighs. abby over plays the way you hum her name sweetly send shivers through her her spine.

duchess!abby who doesn't think it's possible she'll over get over how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a slip abby hasn’t seen before, there’s a slit so high, abby sees stars. cerulean, blues get lost as she scans over your body. your skin look angelic as the moonlight bathed your skin, complexion practically glows from within. abby knows she won’t be able to control herself any longer. being with you will break her in half, might shatter her family, it will completely dissipate her reputation and yours, but a life knowing you seems all the more dreadful.

she can't take her eyes off you, as you carefully undo her dirty blonde locks. she lets you, and you love it. yearn for it more than you can handle, but you welcome the comforting feeling more than you can expect.

abby gazes at you fondly, lost in the feeling of loss, beauty, acceptance even lingering as she feels the warmth beneath her fingertips. she wonders if there is any light left in her to reach you and will it be enough? the duchess isn’t not sure but she accepts these moments as is.

“you’re distracting me.” you admit, thumb grazing over abby’s chin, her eyes lost in wonder as her eyes find you.

she blushes. you try not to let it inflate your head.

“how so?” she tilts her head, your grip firm, as her soft lips pout at you. as if she’s innocent by any means.

yeah. right.

it’s been a game of cat and mouse between the two of you. achingly, you don’t want to give in, but there’s no self-control to be found. not really, no anymore. tediously, as each week passes, you find yourself here every night, sitting on her comfortable thighs underneath the righteous protection of the oak tree.  

“i must go before i am missed. you should do the same.”

carefully, you motion to move your body away from her, but strong palms press against your lower back, the night gown thin enough you can feel her warmth. abby lunges you forward, there’s hardly any space left, your lips ghost over hers, taunting you as she teases. 

“i should do something, that much i am sure of.” abby declares as a confused gaze becomes you. 

“i need to—” abby halts, words failing her mind as she soothingly rubs your cheek, the pad of her thumb rubs circles over the smooth surface. 

“do what?” your own voice fails you as it shakes along with your trembling body, anticipation building, high enough for unsettling nerves to surface. achingly, her breath overwhelms your lips, your senses even. 

then there’s an omission, a secret you’ve also held in your heart, one that’s been as evident as the shine of the sun. the one you hope she felt too and now? you know for certain.  

“what i should have done many moons ago.” 

hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think. mwah!

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[jinnie-ret]

scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

[paceprompting]

paper kiss

written for ‘mistletoe’ wc: 982 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, pining, fluff, werewolf steve, human eddie

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Steve had a problem.

Call in the troops, all hands on deck, cannot afford to fail level of problem.

Except he couldn’t exactly go around blabbing this issue to the entire party. Dustin alone would blab in five seconds, and he’d never hear the end of it for as long as he lived.

How was he supposed to admit the simultaneously best and worst idea he’d ever had to kiss Eddie for the first time?

Eddie had never the opportunity for the romantic nonsense, even if he rolled his eyes or stuck out his tongue at any sight of it. Eddie’s walls were covered in thorns and bristles from years of needing to bite first what usually came to harm him.

Steve, on the other hand, was highly practiced in romantic nonsense.

So, clearly: Christmas time equaled mistletoe.

Genius in its simplicity.

Idiotic in that it was fatal.

Because now he was basically supernaturally allergic to the stuff.

You get bit by one demodog and you had severe drawbacks, go figure.

It was hard enough trying not to stick his nose in Eddie’s collarbone—scenting, Robin called it. He didn’t want to know what the hell she was reading—and envelop himself in Eddie's forest, smoky scent while leaving his own behind. Even though he was literally the only person in Hawkins who could smell the difference, getting bit had come with all these other weird instincts.

Somehow, dealing with the transformation every full moon was easier than navigating daily life when every slight against the kids, against Robin, against Eddie had his claws and fangs bursting out with an inhuman snarl.

That he needed nearly two and half times more calories than ever just to not feel like he was going to pass out by midday.

When every time he looked at Eddie, he wanted so intensely his jaw hurt until they were close enough Steve could catch his scent. Close enough to always know he was okay because Steve was close enough to get to him.

Steve sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“I’m just going to buy some.”

Robin leaned into his eyeline, a fearsome frown on her face, and jabbed her finger into his chest. “You’ll die, dingus.”

“Only if I directly inhale it.”

She flicked him. “Why is it important?”

Eddie wasn’t at the house, yet. He had chauffeur duty for the impeding Christmas-ification of Steve’s house—tinsel, garlands, lights, the whole nine yards—and the plan had led to Steve’s badly wonderful idea.

The kids would be so distracted decorating/devastating his house, Steve could easily pull Eddie aside for a private moment.

And they had both been too much shit. Eddie was worth more than a plain old kiss.

The kids entered the house in a whirlwind, shouting and laying out boxes and shopping bags to tear into without so much as a hello. Steve chuckled to himself.

He smelled Eddie before he saw him, and raised his head. His dark curls were dotted with melting snow, cheeks pinkened by the cold. Eddie stared intently at them, with something hidden in his hands.

Robin dismissed herself, hissing quietly at him before she darted off, “Just do it.”

Eddie didn’t watch her leave, slowly stepping into the kitchen until Steve met him halfway. Steve still couldn’t see what he was holding, Eddie’s fingers curled around something small.

Steve breathed in his fresh scent—pine forest and smoke—the tension in his shoulders fading.

“Um, I had this, sort of…thing. An idea,” Eddie started quietly.

“Do I get to hear it?”

Eddie started to roll his eyes, and then stopped himself. Like he was trying not to fall into old habits. Strange.

This idea had to be something special.

“So, I really want to kiss you.”

Steve’s heart pounded so loud in his ears, he hardly processed that Eddie had kept speaking, his enclosed hands moving in their usual way. Drew Steve’s attention all the more to what he was hiding.

“I thought, Christmas, mistletoe. Perfect opportunity.” Steve bit his lip to keep from smiling, since Eddie had gone onto the inevitable conclusion. “And then I remembered that would probably kill you before we ever got to enjoy it.”

Steve clicked his tongue. “Yeah.”

“So, instead, I made this.” Eddie opened his hands, and extended out what looked like a small plant with oval leaves and red berries.

Hesitantly, Steve reached for it. Eddie wasn’t about to poison him, but Steve wasn’t sure what to expect as he grabbed with two fingers at the nearest leaf. The thing crinkled as Steve lifted it.

“Paper,” he said with a soft smile.

He held the faux-mistletoe in one hand, examining it with the other. Stems of green oval leaves, tiny red berried and tied together at the top with a white ribbon. It was soft and slightly fuzzy like construction paper, and Steve faintly smelled Eddie’s pine forest all over it.

“And safe,” Eddie said.

All this to overcome Steve’s werewolf allergy. Because they both wanted to kiss.

For some reason, particularly under mistletoe.

Steve looked at Eddie, his eyes wide and waiting. He chuckled. “We have made this so complicated.”

Eddie arched a brow.

“You transform into a hairy beast every full moon and I really want you to hold me down and lick me all over the rest of the month. Let’s just say our lives haven’t been simple for a while.” He stepped close, plucking the mistletoe from Steve’s hand to run it over his lips.

He flicked his eyes toward Steve over the paper leaves, playful and heated. A pleased growl rumbled through Steve’s chest, and Eddie’s eyes just gleamed. They had moved close enough that all one of them had to do was drift that much closer.

“Are you going to kiss the mistletoe?” Steve asked, peering at Eddie’s mouth and imagining the taste of pine and smoke. “Or me?”

[pedroscowgirl]

love beyond boundaries

hugh jackman x afab!reader

masterlist (part 1,2 & 3 are here)

warnings: smut! minors, dni!

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

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

Words: 9.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryan listened, his expression softening as he heard the conviction in Hugh’s voice. It was clear that Hugh had thought about this more than Ryan had realized, that this wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation. Still, Ryan couldn’t shake his concern, and he knew this conversation was far from over. But for now, he simply nodded, offering a small, understanding smile, even as his mind continued to turn over the implications of what they had just discussed.

As they stood there, the distance between them bridged by their shared history and mutual respect, the sounds of the playful scene in the background seemed to fade into focus again, reminding them both of the here and now, and the importance of the choices they were making.

After their conversation, Hugh and Ryan rejoined the group, but there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air. Hugh’s mood had shifted slightly,he was still present, still engaged with the kids and with you, but there was a weight to his movements, a contemplative look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. You noticed, of course, sensing that something was off, but decided not to press him about it just yet. The afternoon was still meant to be enjoyed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the lighthearted atmosphere.

As the day wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Blake suggested that everyone move inside for dinner. The kids were getting tired, their energy waning, and it seemed like the perfect time to shift gears. You helped Blake in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal while Hugh and Ryan stayed with the kids in the living room. There was a sense of domesticity that felt comforting, as if you were all a part of the same family, sharing in the little moments that make life feel rich and full.

But even as you chopped vegetables and Blake stirred a pot on the stove, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Hugh. He was talking to Ryan, smiling at something one of the kids said, but there was still that shadow in his eyes, something unresolved that tugged at your heart.

Once dinner was ready, you all gathered around the table. The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter and stories from the past, but you could tell that Ryan was still watching Hugh closely, as if waiting for a sign, some indication that everything was truly okay. And Hugh, ever the actor, was doing his best to mask any inner turmoil, though you could see the subtle signs—the way his fingers tapped restlessly against the table, the slight delay in his responses.

After dinner, as the kids settled down for the evening with a movie, you and Hugh found a moment alone. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air, and he joined you, the two of you standing together on the porch, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

Hugh leaned against the railing, staring out into the darkening yard, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to you. "Hey," you said softly, "is everything okay?"

He turned to you, and for a moment, the mask slipped. His eyes were tired, filled with a mixture of emotions that he had been holding back all evening. "Ryan said something earlier," he admitted, his voice low. "He’s worried about us. About the age difference, mostly."

You nodded, not entirely surprised. You had sensed that something like this might come up eventually. "And what do you think?" you asked, your voice calm and steady, though your heart was beating a little faster.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think... I think he has a point, in some ways. But at the same time, I know what I feel for you is real. It’s not about how old you are or how old I am. It’s about the connection we have, about how you make me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in years."

You listened, your hand still resting on his arm, offering silent support. "But I can’t ignore what he said," Hugh continued, his brow furrowing in thought. "It’s not just about us, it’s about how this affects everyone around us—my kids, our friends... I don’t want to hurt anyone."

The sincerity in his voice was clear, and it made your heart ache a little. "Hugh," you said gently, "I understand where Ryan is coming from, and I know this isn’t easy. But what we have... it’s worth figuring out. We can take things slow, make sure this is what we both want and that we’re doing what’s best for everyone involved."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was torn between his feelings for you and his loyalty to those he cared about. "I want this to work," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I want us to work. But I also need to make sure that it’s the right thing, for everyone."

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection for this man who was trying so hard to do the right thing. "We’ll figure it out together," you assured him. "Whatever happens, we’ll face it as a team. I’m not going anywhere, Hugh."

He smiled then, a small, grateful smile, and pulled you into a gentle embrace. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the night surrounding you like a protective cloak, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey,one that would have its challenges, but also its moments of deep connection and understanding.

The days that followed were filled with a delicate balance. Hugh was more thoughtful, more introspective, and while he didn’t bring up the conversation with Ryan again immediately, you could tell it was still on his mind. You continued to spend time together, both as a couple and with your friends, but there was a newfound awareness in everything you did. It was as if you were both testing the waters, seeing how this relationship fit into the wider fabric of your lives.

One evening, a week or so later, you and Hugh decided to have dinner at his place, just the two of you. It was a quiet night, with the kind of easy conversation that flowed naturally between you. But as you were finishing up, Hugh suddenly set down his fork and looked at you with an intensity that took you by surprise.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about what Ryan said," he began, his tone serious. "And about us. I’ve realized that I need to talk to my kids about this, about us. They deserve to know, and I want them to hear it from me."

You felt a flutter of nerves at the mention of his children, but you knew he was right. This was an important step, one that couldn’t be avoided if your relationship was going to move forward. "How do you think they’ll react?" you asked, your voice soft, but steady.

Hugh sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not sure. They’re good kids, and they love me, but this is... different. It’s not something they’re used to, and I don’t know how they’ll take it. But I owe it to them to be honest."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "You’re a good father, Hugh. They’ll see that, and they’ll see how much you care about them. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together."

He squeezed your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you. I’m just... I’m nervous. I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t want to lose you."

"You won’t lose me," you assured him, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "We’re in this together, remember?"

He nodded, a look of determination settling over his features. "Yeah, we are."

------------------------------------------

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions as Hugh prepared to talk to his children. He spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the conversation, wanting to be as open and honest as possible, but also sensitive to their feelings. You gave him the space he needed, offering support when he asked for it, but also stepping back when he needed to figure things out on his own.

Finally, the day came. Hugh invited his children over to his place for dinner, a casual gathering that had become a regular occurrence. They arrived, bringing with them the usual energy and chatter, but Hugh could tell they sensed something different in his demeanor. He was trying to stay relaxed, but there was a nervousness he couldn’t completely hide.

After dinner, when they were all settled in the living room, Hugh took a deep breath and began. "There’s something I need to talk to you about," he said, his voice steady but serious. The room quieted, his children turning their attention to him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

He took another breath, then continued. "I’ve met someone. Someone who’s become very important to me. And I want to be honest with you about it."

His children exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t interrupt, waiting for him to explain.

"The thing is," Hugh went on, "she’s younger than me. Quite a bit younger, actually. And I know that might be surprising, maybe even hard to understand, but I want you to know that this is something I’ve thought a lot about. She makes me happy, and I feel like this relationship is good for me."

After Hugh’s revelation, the silence in the living room felt heavy, almost suffocating. He could see the discomfort etched on both his son’s and daughter’s faces as they struggled to process what he had just shared.

His son, the older of the two, was the first to speak. He leaned back, crossing his arms, and looked at his father with a mix of confusion and discomfort. “Dad,” he began slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully, “I don’t really know what to say. This… this is kind of weird. I mean, she’s almost our age.”

Hugh felt a sharp pang in his chest at his son’s words, but he nodded, understanding the reaction. “I know it’s unexpected,” Hugh replied, keeping his voice calm. “And I know it’s a big adjustment. But this is important to me, and I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it mattered.”

His daughter, the younger of the two, was quieter, her brow furrowed deeply as she tried to make sense of everything. She looked at her father with wide, uncertain eyes. “Dad, are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. “It’s just… I don’t know how to feel about it. She’s so young, and it feels strange.”

Hugh’s heart ached hearing the uncertainty and discomfort in his daughter’s voice. He wanted to reassure her, to make everything okay, but he knew this was a situation with no easy answers. “I understand it feels strange,” Hugh said gently. “And I don’t expect you to be completely okay with it right away. But I need you to know that this isn’t something I’m taking lightly. I care about her deeply, and she makes me happy in a way I haven’t been in a long time.”

His son exchanged a look with his sister, his expression still troubled. “But what about the fact that she’s closer to our age than yours? Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Hugh took a deep breath, knowing this conversation was going to be difficult. “It’s something I’ve thought about a lot,” he admitted. “But the connection we have goes beyond age. I know it might seem strange from the outside, but when I’m with her, it feels right. I feel like I’ve found something special, something that I didn’t even know I was missing.”

His daughter bit her lip, still looking conflicted. “But what if it doesn’t work out, Dad? What if she decides she wants someone closer to her own age? Or what if people start talking? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her words struck Hugh deeply, and he could see the genuine concern in her eyes. “I understand your worries,” Hugh said softly. “And I’ve thought about those things too. But I can’t let fear stop me from pursuing something that makes me happy. Life is short, and I want to make the most of it.”

His son sighed, running a hand through his hair, still struggling to process his father’s words. “I just… I don’t know, Dad. This whole thing is so out of left field. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be happy, but it’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this.”

Hugh nodded, his heart heavy but understanding. “I’m not asking you to be okay with it right away,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you try to understand where I’m coming from. And that you give her a chance. She’s important to me, and I want her to be a part of our lives.”

His daughter looked down at her hands, clearly wrestling with her emotions. “I’ll try, Dad,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction. “But it’s going to take some time.”

His son nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try too. But just… don’t expect us to be totally cool with this right away. It’s a lot to take in.”

Hugh felt a wave of mixed emotions—relief that they were willing to try, but also a deep sadness that they were struggling so much with the news. He had known this wouldn’t be easy, but seeing the uncertainty and discomfort on their faces was harder than he had anticipated.

“I appreciate that,” Hugh said, his voice thick with emotion. “I really do. And I’m here to talk anytime you need to. I don’t want this to come between us.”

After a few more minutes of tense but civil conversation, his children decided to leave. They both hugged their father, but the embraces felt different—tentative, with a sense of distance that hadn’t been there before. Hugh watched them go, his heart heavy with worry about what this might mean for their relationship.

Later that night, Hugh called you. His voice sounded weary, as if the conversation had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. “I talked to them,” he said as soon as you answered. “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

Your heart sank at his words. “What did they say?” you asked gently, already bracing yourself for the answer.

“They’re weirded out by it,” Hugh admitted, the sadness in his voice clear. “My son said it feels strange because you’re closer to their age than mine, and my daughter is worried I’m going to get hurt. They said they’ll try to understand, but… it’s going to take time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process what he was telling you. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I never wanted to cause any tension between you and your kids.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hugh said quickly, his tone firm. “This is on me, and I knew it might be difficult. I just didn’t realize how much it would affect them. But I’m not giving up on us. I just… I need to find a way to help them see what I see.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you said, your voice filled with quiet determination. “We’ll take it slow, and give them the time they need to adjust. I care about you, Hugh, and I care about your kids too. I want this to work for all of us.”

Hugh sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude in his voice. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It’s just… it’s hard, seeing them struggle with this. But I know we can get through it.”

In the days and weeks that followed, the tension between Hugh and his children didn’t fully dissipate. They were polite, but there was a noticeable distance between them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before. Hugh did his best to maintain their bond, continuing to spend time with them, but the easy, natural closeness they once shared felt strained.

You found yourself in a challenging position as well. You wanted to give Hugh’s children the space they needed, but you also wanted to show them that you were committed to their father and to making this relationship work. You made an effort to connect with them, to demonstrate that you were more than just a fleeting presence in Hugh’s life, but it was clear that it would take time for them to come around.

Despite the challenges, you and Hugh remained close, your bond growing stronger as you navigated the difficulties together. There were moments of doubt, moments when the weight of it all felt overwhelming, but you both knew that what you had was worth fighting for.

One day, after a particularly tense family gathering, Hugh sat down with you, his expression troubled. “I’m worried that this is going to push them away,” he confessed, his voice filled with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “I don’t want to lose them, but I also don’t want to lose you. I don’t know how to make this work.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “We’ll keep trying,” you said softly. “It’s not going to be easy, but I believe that with time, they’ll see that this is real. That what we have is important.”

Hugh nodded, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fully disappear. “I hope you’re right. I just want everyone I care about to be okay with this.”

Later that night, after the tense conversation with his kids, Hugh felt an overwhelming need to talk to someone who could help him sort through his emotions. He picked up his phone and called Ryan, hoping for some clarity.

Ryan answered after a couple of rings, his voice cheerful as usual. “Hey, Hugh! What’s up?”

Hugh sighed deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on him. “I had a talk with my kids tonight. Told them about the relationship.”

Ryan’s tone immediately shifted, becoming more serious. “How did that go?”

“Not great,” Hugh admitted, leaning back against the couch. “They’re struggling with it. The age difference is really throwing them off. They’re trying to be supportive, but I can tell they’re uncomfortable.”

Ryan was silent for a moment, processing what Hugh had said. “I figured that might be tough for them,” he finally said. “But, Hugh, i have to ask again… is this really the right relationship for you?”

Hugh’s heart skipped a beat at Ryan’s question, and he felt a wave of doubt start to creep in. “What do you mean now?” he asked.

“I’m not doubting your feelings,” Ryan replied gently. “But there are practical things to consider. Like… what if she wants kids? Are you really ready to be a father again at this stage in your life?”

Hugh went silent, the question hitting him harder than he’d expected. It was something that had been lurking in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t confronted it directly. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I haven’t talked to her about it yet.”

Ryan’s voice was steady, but there was concern there too. “You need to. This isn’t something you can just hope won’t come up. She’s young, Hugh. If she wants kids, that’s a huge part of her life she might be looking forward to. Are you ready to do that all over again? The sleepless nights, the diapers, raising a child from the ground up? Because that’s not just a small part of your life,it’s a whole new chapter.”

Hugh swallowed hard, the reality of Ryan’s words settling in. “I know it’s a big deal,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I haven’t even asked her if she wants kids. Maybe she doesn’t.”

“And maybe she does,” Ryan countered gently but firmly. “And what then? Are you going to be okay with starting over as a new father? Are you willing to take that on, knowing how much it will change your life? And what about your kids? How are they going to feel about a new sibling who’s closer in age to them than you?”

Hugh leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. “I honestly don’t know if I’m ready for that. The idea of having more kids… it’s overwhelming. But at the same time, I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, letting Hugh’s words sink in. “Look, man,” he said softly, “I’m not saying you should walk away from her if she wants kids. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself,and with her. If you’re not up for being a father again, that’s something you need to make clear. Because if you’re not on the same page about this, it could lead to a lot of pain down the road, for both of you.”

Hugh nodded, even though Ryan couldn’t see him. “You’re right. I can’t keep avoiding this. I need to talk to her about it, and I need to be honest with myself too. I just… I don’t want to lose her.”

“I get that,” Ryan said, his voice full of empathy. “But sometimes the hardest conversations are the ones that matter the most. You’ve got to figure out what you’re willing to do, and what you’re not. And you’ve got to be okay with the fact that it might mean things don’t turn out the way you want.”

Hugh felt the weight of those words settle in his chest, a mix of fear and uncertainty gnawing at him. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice heavy with emotion. “I need to talk to her. I can’t keep this to myself any longer.”

“Good,” Ryan replied, his tone supportive. “You’ll figure it out, Hugh. Just make sure you’re doing what’s right for you, and for her. This is too important to leave unresolved.”

As Hugh ended the call, he felt the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. The next step was clear, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He cared deeply for you, but the question of children—and what kind of future you both wanted,was something that couldn’t be ignored. He knew he had to confront it, no matter how daunting the conversation might be

The next day, a heavy weight hung over Hugh, the kind that lingered long after his conversation with Ryan. The questions Ryan had posed echoed relentlessly in his mind, refusing to be silenced. Each reverberation made it clearer to Hugh that he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He needed to have a serious conversation with you, one that had the potential to shape the trajectory of your relationship in ways he couldn’t fully predict. As much as he dreaded this discussion, he knew it was necessary, an unavoidable step if there was to be any future between the two of you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrived at his house that afternoon, it was immediately clear that something was off. Hugh, who was typically so warm and lighthearted, greeted you with a tension in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle but unmistakable, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. After a few minutes of polite small talk that did little to ease the growing tension, Hugh took your hand in his, the warmth of his touch laced with a new sense of urgency. Without a word, he led you to the living room, where you both sat down on the couch.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Hugh began, his voice steady but carrying a gravity that was impossible to ignore. He squeezed your hand, his gaze searching yours as he struggled to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future. And there’s something important we need to discuss.”

Your heart quickened, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “Of course, Hugh. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Hugh took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach tighten. “I care about you so much, and I love what we have together. But Ryan brought up some things that I’ve been avoiding, things I didn’t want to face. But I need to be honest with you and with myself.”

You could see the internal battle he was waging, the way his words came slowly, carefully, as if each one had been weighed a thousand times before being spoken aloud.

He hesitated for a moment, then continued, his voice softer now. “The thing is… you’re at a point in your life where you might want things that I’m not sure I’m ready for. Like kids. I’ve already raised mine, and the idea of starting over… it’s a lot to think about. I need to know what you want because if you’re hoping to have children one day, I don’t want to hold you back or disappoint you.”

The sincerity in his words struck you deeply. It was clear how much this conversation cost him, the concern drawn in every line of his face, the way his eyes searched yours for reassurance. You felt a pang of empathy and love for him, seeing how hard he was trying to protect you, even at the cost of his own peace of mind.

You reached out, taking his hand in both of yours, your touch gentle but firm. A reassuring smile played on your lips as you met his worried gaze.

“Hugh,” you said softly, your voice steady and calm, “I’ve thought about this too. I know it’s something we need to talk about, but the truth is, it doesn’t matter to me what the future holds as long as we’re together. If having kids isn’t something you want, then it’s not something I need. I want to be with you, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

A flicker of relief crossed Hugh’s face, though it was tempered by lingering doubt. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything later on.”

You nodded, your expression unwavering, your eyes locked on his. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more certain of anything. I don’t need children to be happy, Hugh. I just need you.”

For a moment, Hugh just looked at you, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away as your words sank in. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, a silent thank you that spoke volumes more than any words could. “Thank you for saying that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I just didn’t want to lead you into something that would make you unhappy later on.”

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. It was a small gesture, but it spoke of trust, of understanding, of the deep connection that had grown between you. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face inches from his.

“I understand why you’re worried,” you said, your voice soft but resolute. “But I promise you, my happiness comes from being with you. I’m in this for us, not for anything else.”

Hugh’s heart swelled with affection as he gazed at you, his eyes softening with a tenderness that made your own heart flutter. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as he cupped your cheek. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

A warm smile spread across your face at his words, and you could feel the tension in the room dissipating, replaced by a comforting sense of mutual understanding. But as you sat there, a playful glint sparked in your eyes, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Without a word, you shifted, slowly straddling his lap, your movements deliberate and teasing. You could feel his body react to your closeness, the atmosphere between you shifting from serious to something far more primal.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered in a voice that was both sultry and teasing, “But you know, what if I did stopped taking birth control, and you just breed me like a fucking slut? If you ever want to have babies, my womb is right here.”

You bit your lip, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, the challenge and desire clear in your expression. The shock on Hugh’s face quickly gave way to laughter, a deep, hearty sound that filled the room. But as his laughter subsided, you felt him growing hard beneath you, the tension between you transforming into something electric, charged with unspoken possibilities.

Hugh cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked up at you with a mix of amusement and arousal. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his voice rough with desire.

You grinned, feeling the heat between you intensify, your body responding to his touch. “I know. So, what do you say, Hugh? Want to take me up on that offer?”

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice low and thick with need. “But I’m getting used to it.”

Without another word, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, the intensity between you growing with each passing second. The conversation from moments before faded into the background as your bodies pressed together, the connection between you burning brighter than ever. The future might still be uncertain, but in that moment, all that mattered was the undeniable chemistry you shared, the passion that flared between you, and the love that anchored it all.

Hugh gently scooped you up into his arms, his strength evident in the ease with which he lifted you. His hands were warm against your back, and you felt the security of his embrace as he carried you through the hallway. Each step he took was deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours, a mixture of affection and desire swirling in his eyes. The dim light from the hallway lamps cast a golden glow around you both, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

As he carried you into the bedroom, the door swung open with a gentle push from his foot. The room was a sanctuary, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon that streamed through the partially drawn curtains. The air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh linen, and the faint hum of the night outside added to the serenity. Hugh set you down on the bed with such care, as if you were something precious, something to be treasured. The mattress yielded under your weight, the plush sheets cool against your skin as you sank into them.

Hovering above you, Hugh's presence was commanding, yet tender. He supported himself on his arms, his face close to yours, and the warmth of his breath brushed against your lips. His eyes, deep and dark, searched yours, finding in them the same longing and desire that burned within him. The world outside ceased to exist, it was just the two of you, entwined in this moment.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, your gaze filled with a hunger that mirrored his own. With a voice that dripped with seduction, you whispered, "Wouldn't you love to knock me up, daddy? Imagine it… Filling me up with you every single day, feeling your warmth inside me. Watching as my body changes, knowing that it's because of you. My belly growing rounder, fuller, with our child. My breasts swelling, becoming heavier, just for you…"

The words you spoke were laced with an intoxicating blend of innocence and temptation, a fantasy you painted with vivid clarity. Hugh's reaction was immediate, his eyes darkened further, pupils dilating with the intensity of his arousal. He swallowed hard, his breathing growing deeper as he processed what you'd said. He let out a low, almost primal hum of approval, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

"Hmm, that would be nice, yes," he murmured, his voice thick and gravelly with need. There was a flicker of doubt in his expression as he added with a soft chuckle, "But I'm an old man, baby."

You could feel his reluctance, his hesitation born from the years that separated you, yet it did nothing to diminish your desire. If anything, it only fuelled your need to reassure him, to show him that age meant nothing to you. You reached up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against yours. "That's fine," you whispered, your voice tender yet filled with certainty. "I want it all with you, Hugh. Every part of you. Always."

Your words seemed to wash over him, easing the tension from his body. He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an expression of his desire. The kiss was slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that belied the fire burning within him. His hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves and contours with a reverence that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

He started at your hips, his fingers trailing along the waistband of your clothing before he began to undress you, piece by piece. Each article of clothing was removed with care, as if he were unwrapping a gift he had waited his entire life to open. His eyes followed his hands, drinking in every inch of exposed skin with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat.

When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his gaze lingering on your chest. The sight of your breasts, soft and inviting, seemed to captivate him. He stared, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and lust, as if he were seeing something sacred. You could feel his breath hitch, the air between you thick with the weight of his desire.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you noticed his fixation. You felt a surge of confidence, knowing how much he adored you, how much he wanted you. With a teasing lilt in your voice, you broke the silence. "Thinking about something, Daddy?"

The question hung in the air, playful yet charged with meaning. Hugh's eyes snapped back to yours, his gaze burning with intensity. For a moment, he said nothing, simply letting the question sink in, letting the desire between you build to a fever pitch. Then, with a low, rumbling chuckle, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I’m thinking about how much I want to make you mine. Every inch of you."

You gazed up at Hugh, your heart swelling with the intensity of the moment, your voice soft but filled with unshakable certainty. "I'm already yours, Hugh," you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a sacred vow. The sincerity in your tone seemed to reach deep into his soul, igniting a fire that had been burning for far too long. His eyes darkened with desire, and without another word, he leaned in, his lips finding the delicate curve of your neck.

He kissed you there, his mouth hot against your skin, each press of his lips sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. He moved slowly, savouring the taste of you, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered at the sensation, your body instinctively arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

A low, satisfied hum escaped his lips, the sound vibrating against your neck, sending a wave of warmth straight to your core. "Hmm, I want more of you," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that made your breath hitch. The depth of his need was palpable, wrapping around you like a physical force, making your heart race and your skin tingle with anticipation.

You let out a soft moan, your hands wandering up his broad back, feeling the muscles shift beneath your fingertips. His skin was warm to the touch, and as you traced the contours of his body, you couldn't help but marvel at the man before you,the man who made you feel desired in a way you had never experienced before.

With deliberate movements, Hugh began to undress himself, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as each piece of clothing fell away. First, his shirt, revealing the strong, defined chest that you had always admired. Then, his pants, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of him, every inch of his body a testament to his strength and vitality.

"You know," you began, your voice laced with admiration as your eyes roamed over his form, "you don't look like an old man at all. That body is amazing." The words came out almost in a reverent whisper, as if you were speaking your thoughts aloud without even realizing it.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with a sense of comfort and familiarity. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a kiss, his mouth soft but insistent against yours. "Thank you, princess," he murmured between kisses, his voice tender yet filled with the heat of his desire.

His hands were on you again, exploring every curve, every dip of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and adored. He took his time, mapping out every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. His touch was electric, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, igniting a burning need deep within you.

Finally, with a smooth, effortless motion, Hugh positioned himself above you. The heat radiating from his body mingled with your own, creating an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. As he slid into you, you gasped, the sensation overwhelming in the most delicious way.

"Awe, you're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction. He revelled in the way your body responded to him, the way you welcomed him so eagerly. His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body tighten around him in response. You rolled your eyes playfully at his smugness, but the laughter that bubbled up from your throat betrayed your delight.

"Just fuck me already, like you're twenty," you teased, a daring smile playing on your lips. There was a playful challenge in your tone, a provocation that you knew he wouldn't ignore.

Hugh raised an eyebrow, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he accepted your challenge. "You know I fuck you better than any young man can," he chuckled, his voice dripping with confidence and desire. And with that, he began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that started slow and deliberate, each thrust measured and precise, designed to drive you wild.

As he moved within you, your mind began to drift, fueled by the fantasies you had been nurturing for so long. The heat between you intensified, and with it, a thought took root in your mind, one you could no longer suppress. You had been toying with the idea for a while now, the thought of what it would be like to let go completely, to give yourself to him in the most primal way possible.

Your breath quickened as the thought grew more insistent, a desire that you could no longer ignore. "Hugh," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

He paused, his movements slowing as he looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "What is it, baby?" he asked, his voice gentle, yet tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, the words caught in your throat, but the intensity of your need overpowered your doubts. "I… I want to stop taking birth control," you confessed, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. "I want you to cum inside me, for real. I want you to make me pregnant."

The impact of your words hit him like a freight train, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, his brain struggling to process what you had just said. His eyes widened slightly, the intensity of his gaze deepening as the full weight of your confession settled over him.

"You're serious?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes, Hugh. I want this. I want you to fill me up with your seed, to watch my belly grow with your child. I want to see the way you look at me when you know I've got your baby inside me. I need it."

A primal growl rumbled low in Hugh's throat, his control slipping away as your words broke down the last of his restraint. The thought of you swollen with his child, carrying his legacy, was enough to send his desire spiralling out of control. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "You really want this? You want me to breed you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. "I want it more than anything. Please, Hugh, give it to me."

That was all he needed to hear. His composure shattered, replaced by an overwhelming urge to claim you, to mark you as his in the most primal way possible. He surged forward, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. His movements were no longer controlled, they were wild, frantic, driven by the need to fulfil the promise he had made to you.

"I’m going to fuck you so good," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I'm going to fill you up with my cum until you're dripping with it. You want to be my breeding slut? You want to carry my baby?"

"Yes!" you moaned, your body arching beneath him as he pounded into you with relentless intensity. "I want to be your breeding slut. I want to carry your baby, Hugh!"

His pace quickened, his movements becoming more erratic as he lost himself in the sensation of you wrapped around him. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as he thrust into you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered filthy things, his breath hot against your skin.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed beneath you, and your combined moans of pleasure. Hugh's words sent you spiraling, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, you're so amazing" he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. "So fucking perfect. I'm going to cum so deep inside you. You're going to feel me for days, baby."

His words, his relentless pace, everything was too much, and you could feel your climax building, the tension coiling tightly within you. You were close, so close, and you could tell he was too, the way his movements were becoming more frantic, more desperate.

And then, as the pleasure reached a fever pitch, you screamed out in desperation, "Fuck, make me pregnant, Daddy! I wanna have your kids so fucking bad!"

The sound of your voice, the raw need in your words, was his undoing. With a guttural roar, he let go completely, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. He drove into you harder, faster, his body shaking with the force of his impending release.

You felt the world slip away, your vision blurring as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body tightening around him as you reached your peak. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, making you scream his name as your body convulsed beneath him.

Hugh followed you over the edge, his release crashing into him with the same ferocity. He buried himself deep inside you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he spilled into you, filling you up with his seed. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of warmth that spread through your core, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts, still echoing in your ears. Hugh collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. His chest rose and fell heavily, and he buried his face in your hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head as you both came down from the euphoric high.

Your body felt like it was floating, still tingling with the aftershocks of your climax. The warmth of Hugh's embrace grounded you, and you nestled closer into his side, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. The room was filled with a heavy, heady silence, both of you too overwhelmed to speak, lost in the aftermath of the storm you'd just weathered together.

After what felt like an eternity, Hugh finally broke the silence, his voice still rough with lingering desire. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a flicker of worry crossing his face as if he feared he might have gone too far.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your touch tender as you reassured him. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice still breathless. "That was incredible, Hugh. I've never felt anything like that."

His eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if savoring the feel of you. "Good," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "I just… you drive me wild, you know that?"

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. You felt the same way about him,he brought out a side of you that was uninhibited, raw, and utterly devoted to him. It was exhilarating, and you craved more.

As you lay there, still entwined in each other's arms, the reality of what you'd just done began to settle in. You'd crossed a line, opened a door that couldn't easily be closed, and the thought thrilled you to your core. You'd asked him to make you pregnant, to fill you with his child, and he'd done it with a fervor that spoke to a deep, primal desire within him.

Hugh was the first to break the silence again, his voice soft but serious as he held you close. “So… do you really want kids after all?” His question was gentle, but it carried the weight of something much deeper.

You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “I want us to be happy,” you said finally, your voice soft but firm. “And if that means having kids, then maybe we’ll get there eventually. But I’m also scared, Hugh. Scared of what it would mean for you, for us. We have to think about your age, about the time we have…”

He nodded, his eyes serious as he listened to you. “I know,” he murmured. “I think about that too. But we have to face the reality of where we are right now. We can’t ignore it.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence as you both contemplated the gravity of the situation. It wasn’t just about desire or love, it was about time, about the ticking clock that neither of you could stop. You loved Hugh with all your heart, but you couldn’t deny the fear that gnawed at you, the fear that time might not be on your side.

After a long pause, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest as you tried to push aside the worries that plagued you. “Maybe we’ll just see what happens, Hugh,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning of our journey together. We don’t have to decide everything right now.”

Hugh’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve got time to figure things out. But it’s something we’ll need to think about, sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. The reality of your situation was something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. But for now, you were together, and that was what mattered most.

Hugh shifted slightly, his hand running gently up and down your back as he continued to speak. “Before we even get to that point, we need to think about other things too,” he said, his tone more serious now. “Like announcing our relationship to the public. We’ll need to do it slowly, subtly.”

You smiled at his words, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind them, but you couldn’t help the small pang of anxiety that tugged at the back of your mind. The idea of going public with your relationship was daunting, especially considering the scrutiny you both would face. But you knew it was something that would have to happen eventually.

“I know,” you replied, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension. “It makes sense, taking things slow. We have to be careful.”

But even as you said the words, the reality of what you were facing began to sink in. The public aspect of your relationship, the challenges of starting a family later in life, it all felt overwhelming, like a storm gathering on the horizon. You tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now, but they lingered, a constant reminder of the complexities that lay ahead.

Hugh seemed to sense your unease, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll handle it together,” he promised, his voice firm and reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it as a team.”

His words were meant to soothe, and in many ways, they did. But they also served as a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead, challenges that you couldn’t ignore. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to focus on the warmth of Hugh’s embrace, on the love that you knew would carry you through whatever came next.

“I know we will,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “But it’s just… a lot to think about.”

Hugh nodded, his lips pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before he settled back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “One step at a time, baby,” he murmured. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

His words were a balm to your anxious thoughts, and you let out a small sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax in his arms. The road ahead might be uncertain, but for now, you were together, and that was enough.

You smiled softly, feeling the tension begin to ease as you let yourself focus on the present moment, on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “We’ll figure it out, Hugh,” you said quietly. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out.”

He pressed a final, lingering kiss to your forehead before settling back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yes, we will,” he agreed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you held onto that thought, letting it anchor you in the uncertain waters of the future. You didn’t have all the answers, and you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew that whatever it was, you would face it together, one step at a time.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell @rockytheluver @stark-ironman @shellbilee @kurcoswife @ru-kru

[roturo]

Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨

[jm-2406]

Answers.

Summary - after an unexpected heated makeout session in the library, Theodore Nott corners you in his bedroom, demanding answers for your reckless behaviour. his possessive side comes out after witnessing you dancing closely with someone else and he decides that enough is enough.

Word count - 1.1k

Note - beware of the stupid writing, i gave it my best. This is written in third person pov and has mentions of [Y/N]. It is quite sweet imo.

This was not how she had planned for the night to go. This was not what she had thought would happen when she stepped foot in the party. And she definitely did not think that she would find herself in such a compromising situation with none other than the host of the party, Theodore Nott.

But, no matter what she had thought or planned for the night things were completely opposite now.

"Did you really think that I'll spare you after the stunt you pulled?" His raspy voice did its magic on her, he didn't even need his wand to cast a spell on her that prevented her from looking away from his intense eyes.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She decided to play dumb; To irritate him and make him mad so that he would leave her instead of cornering her in his bedroom, demanding answers. Answers that could change their equation and mess up everything.

"Oh, so the innocent [Y/N] doesn't know 'what I'm talking about', Is that so? Wearing this sexy dress to rile me up, Flirting with Malfoy, getting too close to him, grinding against him while you looked directly into my eyes and then you have the audacity to play dumb with me? Do you take me for a fool, [Y/N]?" His voice was low but strong, it sent shivers down her spine, in a good and bad way; clouding her senses in fear and lust.

Theodore placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her effectively. [Y/N] turned her head to the side when she felt him coming closer, their noses brushing. She gasped as her eyes fell on the trail of blood dripping from his palm; looking down she could clearly see the shards of glass even in dim lights. It didn't take long for her to put the two and two together. 'Oh god, how much did he drink?' She thought.

"Answer me [Y/N]," Theodore demanded again and bit her earlobe gently. [Y/N] shuddered at the sinful touch. "Stop playing games with me." He whispered in his silky voice.

"You're hurt," [Y/N] said and pushed at his chest. Theodore moved back, giving her space to escape from him but instead, [Y/N] rushed to the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit.

She made Theodore sit on the bed and bandaged his hand. "How careless could you be?" She muttered under her breath but Theodore understood her words. He held her chin with his un-injured hand and made her look up at him, gazing deeply into her eyes he said. "How breathtakingly beautiful could you be?"

He brought his face closer to her, their breath mingling together, just a few centimetres between them but [Y/N] pulled back. "You had one too many drinks. You're not in your senses. You don't know what you are doing at the moment. I can't let you make this mistake."

Theodore pulled her to his lap by her waist. [Y/N] gasped, she kept her hands on his chest to balance herself. "Do I look like a drunkard to you? Can you smell alcohol on my breath? Do you think so low of me that I'll take advantage of you when drunk?" He said with utmost sincerity. [Y/N] was at a loss for words. What she thought to be a drunken mistake was reality. Theodore was sober, he knew what he was doing by coming so close to her.

"Why are you doing this?" Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I am going to say this clearly once again. I feel nothing for you." Her voice broke as she said. Her heart knew that her mouth was spewing lies but 'it was for the best', she consoled herself.

Quickly putting some more distance between them, [Y/N] rushed to the door only to find it locked from the outside. "If you feel nothing for me then how will you explain whatever happened between us in the library, Miss [Y/L/N]?" She heard his cheeky remark. Tears wetted her face as she pulled on the door but it didn't budge.

"It won't open. My room is secured very efficiently so if by chance someone does trespass my room, he'll get trapped inside. The door won't open unless I unlock it." Theodore stated calmly.

[Y/N] froze. She turned around to face him. "Please. Don't make this difficult for me, for us, for everyone around us, for Daphne." her voice was thick with emotion, breaking his heart.

"That's what I'm asking from you." He was near her in a matter of seconds. His hands cupped her face. He wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and brought his lips closer to hers, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. "Tell me the truth, [Y/N]." He asked her once more.

“I do… I feel the same as you. I'm just… afraid… of the consequences.” She finally confessed, her resolve breaking as she lost herself in the moment. Her heart soared high, her soul content with her response. She sighed as she felt Theodore's lips on her, he tasted like the apple juice that he drank not long ago. Their kiss.. it was magical, full of Passion and intensity. He kissed her like he was a starving man and she was a scrumptious meal. He poured all his feelings, his doubts and insecurity into that one kiss. He ravaged her lips completely, kissing her with everything that he had while she found herself moaning against his lips, submitting herself to him. The world be damned.

-♡-

When they were found together in his bedroom the next morning, no one doubted them. The lies that they weaved left no chance of doubts regarding their last night's activities. She reprimanded him and herself too for getting caught up in her emotions and doing something morally wrong, no matter how right it felt while doing it. He laughed it off saying that it'll never happen again but they both knew that it was a lie.

It was not the end but just the beginning. Their beginning.

-♡-

Anyone up for part two/prequel? Please let me know.