#why use 3 words when you can use 7
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Okay. So. I know it isn't. I KNOW that.
But if @the-almighty-god is some sort of.... VIRAL ADVERTISING LONG CON for season 3, and it turns out that GO!God has been horcruxed up into different...idk....DISHES AND CUPS AND WITCHES WITH STUPID NAMES, I am going to go absolutely and completely feral!
I will quit the internet. I will admit that I know nothing about the world (of Good Omens or that of my own reality) or storytelling within it. I will return my English degree to the po-dunk little university from whence it came, and I will eek out a tiny, internet-less existence as a turnip farmer.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#the almighty watches#and speaks#and plots#and possibly takes orders from neil gaiman#but i do doubt it#also#spot the The Adventure Zone: Balance reference#if you get it right#you get a cookie#my writing style is very much#why use 3 words when you can use 7#i am aware#fuck off with your judgment
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Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.
1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.
2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.
3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.
4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)
5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.
6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.
7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.
8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.
9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.
10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.
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IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡
pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson
summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia
wc: 12.9k
a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.
He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.
Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.
'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.
But then another quickly followed.
'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'
At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.
He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.
Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.
Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay. Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.
'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.
The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'
'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.
'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'
He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.
'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'
So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.
He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.
One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.
He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.
The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched. He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.
He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.
Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.
The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.
"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”
"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.
"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."
"But it's not the same," you pouted.
Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.
Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.
"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.
Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.
"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.
He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.
You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.
"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.
Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.
"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.
"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."
You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.
"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."
He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.
Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.
After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.
"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.
"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in.
He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.
"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."
"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.
"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."
"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.
Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."
"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.
Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking.
"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.
"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.
"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."
"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."
"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.
"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.
Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.
In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.
Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.
As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.
For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.
You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.
It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.
And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.
He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.
You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.
"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"
You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."
Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.
You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.
"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."
"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.
Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded.
"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.
"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."
Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.
"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.
His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.
"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."
"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.
Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.
"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."
"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.
Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.
As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.
After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.
"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.
"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.
"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."
"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"
"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.
Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."
"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."
The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."
So that was his problem.
Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.
"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.
Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.
It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.
Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.
Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."
"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."
"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.
"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."
"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"
"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"
"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."
Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.
"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."
"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."
"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.
"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.
Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.
The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker.
And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.
He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest).
"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.
"Yup!" you chirped.
You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.
He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.
"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"
"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.
"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.
Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.
"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.
"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."
"Ah, yet," he grinned.
"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.
He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.
"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.
You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.
Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.
The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.
He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"
His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.
"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.
"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"
He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.
"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.
"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.
He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.
"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.
A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.
"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.
His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.
Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.
Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.
"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.
"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.
He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog.
It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.
The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.
You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.
When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.
Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment.
Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.
That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.
You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.
Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.
As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.
It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.
"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.
"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.
The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.
His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.
"For you maybe."
"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."
You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.
"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.
"Cause I want it," you answered.
With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.
"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.
"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."
"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.
That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.
"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"
"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"
God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.
"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.
That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too.
He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.
He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.
Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.
So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.
Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.
It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.
A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.
You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?
His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.
"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.
Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.
Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.
"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."
Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.
"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."
"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.
You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie.
It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.
But then he spoke again.
"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.
The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.
"What else would we be doing?" you asked.
"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.
The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.
Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.
"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.
And that was the last thing he needed to hear.
He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.
Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.
He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.
You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.
"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered.
He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.
And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.
He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.
Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.
He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.
Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.
"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."
You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.
After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.
"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.
His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.
"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.
Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.
You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.
In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.
"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.
"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.
You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.
"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.
Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.
He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.
"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.
When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.
He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.
Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.
He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.
Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.
He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.
The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.
Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.
Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.
Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.
He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.
"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.
He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.
"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.
As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.
His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.
Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.
Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.
"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.
He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"
"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.
"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.
That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."
Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"That's different..." he defended weakly.
In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.
But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.
"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"
Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.
You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.
"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.
A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.
"F-feels good..."
Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.
His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.
Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.
He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.
Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."
"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.
In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.
"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips.
You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.
"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.
Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.
"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."
Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.
"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."
He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.
Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.
"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."
Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.
He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you.
"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."
Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.
"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.
"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.
Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?
He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.
You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.
"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.
The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.
He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.
"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.
Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.
He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"
Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.
You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.
Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.
You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.
But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.
More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.
"So sensitive," he teased.
You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.
He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.
"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"
Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.
"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.
That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.
Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.
"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.
It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."
"You're the one who interrupted."
"You're the one who practically invited me to."
"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."
Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.
You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward.
"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"
"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.
His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.
"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.
"Come here," he said.
Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.
"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.
You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.
"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.
The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.
"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.
He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.
"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.
Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.
"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."
It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.
Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.
Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though.
The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.
"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."
"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.
Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.
You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.
The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.
Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.
Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.
"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."
In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.
He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.
But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.
"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.
He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.
You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.
"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."
The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.
You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.
He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.
Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.
The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.
But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.
With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.
Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.
When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself.
You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.
He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.
You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.
Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.
He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.
"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."
Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.
"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.
He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."
"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.
"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."
"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.
"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.
They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.
"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.
Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."
You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson smut#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc smut#batboys x reader#ch: jason todd 💌#ch: dick grayson 💌
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10 Ways to Ensure Your Villain's Evil Monologuing Dialogue is as Unsettling as Possible!
1.) Make sure you're mixing body language with the words themselves: You can have your villain saying the most twisted shit, but if they're just standing there like a cardboard cutout, their words probably aren't going to hit as hard. Have them touch your protag. Have them toy with a weapon as if they're going to use it. Have them pace. Have them put together the blood ritual they're ranting about. Keep them moving.
2.) Have them use personal knowledge as a tool: Does your villain have some deep dark dirt on your protag? Don't let that all go in one swoop. Let them hint at it in drops before they open the dam. Maybe they use that knowledge as a bargaining tool to get an upper hand, or use it to send the trapped protag into a frenzy because they love to watch them scream.
3.) When it comes to threats, certainty is key: A threat is a threat, but there's nothing like a threat being spoken as if the villain knows it's going to happen. Whether your villain has already caught your protag, or is in the process of doing so, everything they say they want to see happen to your protag needs to come with absolute certainty. Almost as if it's a certain warning, and not just something they’re saying to be scary.
4.) Contradictions are your friend: Nothing indicates a warped villainous mind more than some juicy contradictions. Your villain might be talking about how they're going to flay your protag's hide after catching them in their dungeon, only to throw in a subtle "but, you're probably safer here with me." Find ways to toss in twisted contradictions that also underline the crazy shit they might be saying.
5.) Mess with syntax: Unsettling dialogue calls for unsettling structure. Incomplete sentences, unforeseen pauses, longwinded explanations broken up by more unforeseen pauses. Whatever it is, keep the rhythm offbeat. Don't give your reader a chance to be able to tell what's coming.
6.) Expectations? Subvert those: Your protag and even your readers might be suspecting one thing from your villain, so throw them a curveball and hit them with the complete opposite. Perhaps you've reached a point in your story where it seems like the villain might kill your protag on sight. But no, have your villain mention exactly why they aren't going to do that, and why they want to wait it out.
7.) Mix quiet confidence and loud assertion: Some might say that the silent seether is scarier, while others might agree that the sudden explosive type takes the bigger unsettling prize. In my opinion, you can really capitalize on the eeriness of villain dialogue by tapping into both. A villain that speaks on with refined confidence before very suddenly exploding, without much warning, can really power up the dread behind their words.
8.) Sometimes, ambiguity is better than being straightforward: Whether it's obvious that your villain has a lot of tricks up their sleeves--or not--leaving things to the imaginations of your protag, and subsequently, your readers is great for building dread. You can use dialogue to make it clear that they're up to something, but never make them fully disclose what that is. They might show it instead of tell it, or it might just never happen. Either way, it'll likely have everyone looking over their shoulders.
9.) There might be times where silence says everything: You might be worried about penning the correct verbiage for your villain's big evil speech, but sometimes, silence speaks wonders. When used correctly, a long pause, or a bout of silence after your protag has said their piece can build a sense of uneasiness more than them actually speaking would have.
10.) Find ways for your villain to mirror the hero: A monologuing villain is better when they're throwing your hero's values and beliefs back in their face. A hero that believes in mercy? Well, have your villain talk about how they'll make them beg for it. A hero that believes in the greater good? Have your villain talk about their idea of a greater good.
As always, GO WRITE SOMETHING TODAY! <3
#writer#writers#writing#creative writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#writerscommunity#writing community#on writing#writers on writing#writing villains#villain writing#villain#writing dialogue#character dialogue#dialogue ideas#how to write#writing help#character writing help#writing advice#writing tips#writing characters#character writing#character development#original character#writing prompt#writing inspiration
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Wedding Night
Summary: After your wedding, you and Spencer head out to your suíte, expecting to have a movie-like wedding night. However, that's not exactly what happens.
Warnings: Reader referred to as a woman. Nothing much, actually, this is just very sweet.
Word count: 1.8k
a/n: This came to me as I was getting ready for bed at 7 A.M. after my graduation ball, and I kept thinking how it would be a realistic wedding night lol. Enjoy <3
Lace underwear, romantic music, candlelit room and loving whispers. Champagne and strawberries, maybe a bubble bath afterwards and falling asleep in each other’s arms. That’s how you pictured your wedding night.
The reality, however, couldn’t be more different.
Spencer’s hand rests on your lower back, huge smiles on both your faces as you stumble with the key card to get into the hotel room.
“I can do it.” You say, smiling ear to ear.
“I can see that.” He mocked, making you giggle as he leaned in, placing a loving kiss on your forehead.
You cheered, cheeks red from the alcohol when the door was finally unlocked, and he laughed and placed a finger over your lips.
“Shhh, it’s three in the morning.” His voice was a hushed whisper as you, once again, giggled against his finger and walked into the room.
It was beautiful, dimly lit with flowers everywhere and a gorgeous view to the vineyard you two got married in. As you admired the room, though, Spencer could only admire the woman in front of him. His wife. He still couldn’t believe he got to call you that.
He had this lovesick smile on his face as he approached, arms encircling your waist as he bent down to pepper your face with kisses, making you giggle as his mustache tickles your skin.
“You look so pretty.” He said when you turned around, his hand moving to rest on your face.
“You already said that. A million times.” You smile, eyes shining as you look up at him.
“I’ll say it a million times more.” He murmured, looking at you like you created the Earth itself, and kissed you. It was slow, tender. Like he had no rush at all. And he didn’t. Thankfully, you were his all night, and for the next fifteen days of your honeymoon. This was the first of many, many kisses.
"Have I ever told you how much I like this?" You ask, interrupting the kiss as your finger moves up to trace the dark hair on his upper lip.
"The stash?" He asks with a cocky smile and you laugh at the word, and the way his voice sounded whenever he tried - and failed - to use slangs.
"Yes, the stash." You say, your voice slightly mocking.
"Good thing I forgot to shave." He murmurs with a smile, bending down to capture your lips once more, his smile blending with his as your arms circle around his neck to pull him even closer.
His hand finds its way to the back of your head, tangling in your meticulously styled hair that he had been oh so careful not to ruin all day. The other palm, resting on your waist, slowly pushes you back towards the wall, his lips not leaving yours for one second.
Sliding down, you feel the heat of his hand moving from your waist to your hip, then to your backside, and involuntarily, you let out a giggle against his lips.
“What?” He asks, smiling as his mouth moves against yours.
“Naughty.” Your murmur makes him laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement as he pulls back just enough to look at you.
“Excuse me?”
“We haven’t been here for five minutes and you’re already trying to get freaky.” The slurring in your words, the way you said it with your brow lifted like that, simply made him laugh more. "I think it's the mustache. There's a reason why they call it a pornstache."
“Mrs. Reid… Are you drunk?” His hands were back on your waist, his thumbs caressing your skin over the dress so tenderly. You smile widely, biting your bottom lip to unsuccessfully try to contain it.
“Just a little bit, Dr. Reid” Your fingers were brought together in a pinching motion as you showed him the visual amount of your “drunkness”.
“More than a little bit.” He smiled, bringing his own fingers up to open yours and make the quantity more appropriate.
“Okay, fair enough” You laughed, but your lips were back on his half a second later, and this time, it was you guiding you both to the bed.
The dress was heavy, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh when you sat on the fluffy mattress, the blankets blending it with the white fabric.
“What?”
“You look like a cupcake.” He says, earning a scoff from you and being attacked by a random pillow that was close enough for you to reach.
“Take it back!” Your voice was as serious as you could manage it to be, but the smile on your lips was a dead giveaway that you weren’t actually upset.
“Alright, I’m sorry. You don’t look like a cupcake.” He smiled in that charming way that makes your knees give out. Good thing you were sitting.
“Thank you.” Your face was already between his hands, and the pillow falls uselessly by the bed when he guides you down onto the mattress, his body weight pushing you down as you allow yourself to drown in his touches.
His tongue explores your mouth in gentle, languid kisses, and you were comfortable in his arms, enveloped by the smell of his cologne, laying on the soft bedding…
“Darling?” You blink, your eyes meeting his and that crushing smile “Are you falling asleep on me?”
“No…” You blink again, and this time, completely against your will, a yawn escapes your lips.
“So, you’re that kind of drunk.” His fingers gently brush some of the curls away from your face.
“Sorry. No, I’m good. I’m not going to fall asleep.”
“Sure you won’t.”
“I won’t.”
“I believe you.” No, he didn’t.
Spencer knew you well enough by now. You’ve been "happy drunk" for hours at the party, but that wave had long passed. Two more minutes in this bed and you’d be completely out of it.
“Honey” He smiles, caressing your cheek when your eyes start drooping again.
“I’m awake!” His laughter is so angelical, and you smile despite it all.
“Listen, we have fifteen days. We’re both exhausted, and I’m sure you can’t be very comfortable right now, in such a tight dress and with your hair like this. We can just sleep, it’s fine.”
“But it’s our wedding night.” You pout, and the look on his face softens.
“I know, but you’ve been up since six a.m.”
“Still. I can do this. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me?” He chuckles incredulously and takes your face between his hands again. “My love, you’re not disappointing me, not in the slightest. I just got married to the woman of my dreams, to the love of my life. I’ll have the rest of my life to have sex with you, one night won’t kill me.”
His voice was earnest, and his heart was light. He loved you more than anything, and the last thing he wanted was you feeling like you weren’t enough because you were too tired to give him a wedding night like the ones in movies.
“Let’s get you out of all of this, and then go to bed.” Before you could protest, he was already up, your body in his arms as he carried you bridal-style to the bathroom. Fitting.
Your laugh echoed in the room as your arms moved to wrap around his neck and hold you up.
“I can walk, you know.”
“I didn’t want to take any chances of you refusing.” He left a kiss on the tip of your nose as he placed you back down on the floor.
His fingers worked with expertise as he carefully removed the bobby pins from your hair, the pile growing and growing.
“Jesus, how many do you have in here?” He murmured, and you could only giggle as you looked at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror.
Next, came the makeup. Well, came off the makeup.
He still remembers how, every night as you wash your face, you use two products, smiling at him and saying “I have to double cleanse.”
The pads of his fingers massaged the oil on your eyes, melting away the mascara and the layers and layers of product that had been on your face since morning, reapplied to look fresh the whole time.
“You’re so pretty.”
“I probably look exhausted. I’m sure it was better with the makeup.” You smile, and his heart absolutely melts. How he loved that smile.
“Um, no. You’re pretty either way. You could be bald and painted in blue, and you’d still be just as pretty.” You giggle, but he was dead serious. In Spencer’s eyes, you were the most gorgeous person in the universe – yes, universe, because he was sure you’d still be a thousand times prettier than whatever other life form there is out there.
The zipper moves down slowly, and soon, the giant dress is on the floor. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, his brain momentarily not working.
“See? I was prepared.” You do a little twirl, joking as you have no idea just how much the sight of the black lingerie affected him.
“I’m the luckiest man on the planet.” He murmured, almost to himself as he stepped closer, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss, effectively shutting up whatever drunken ramble you were going on about.
This time, his lips were a little more desperate. He was a gentleman through and through, but come on, he was still a man. And with you looking like that in front of him? How could he react any other way?
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist it.” He murmurs, breathless when he finally pulls just the slightest away, the warm palms of his hands still holding your face in place.
“Don’t ever apologise for kissing me.” You murmur back, and you can feel the way the smile comes to his lips.
“Come on, darling. Let’s go to bed.” He picks you up again, and in – very pleasant – seconds, your body sinks on the mattress.
Spencer can feel the warmth of your body against his, the softness of your skin under his hands. He can feel the curve of your backside fitting perfectly against his hips, can smell your perfume and drown in the mess of your post-hairstyle curls.
“Honey?” Your voice was a soft murmur in the dark.
“Yes, darling?” His eyes were half open, his restraint holding him back from doing anything as his lips hover over the curve of your shoulder, so tantalisingly close.
“I’m not sleepy anymore.” The smile that takes over his lips is instant, his hands moving on your skin with a little more purpose once he feels your hips pushing back against his.
“Mm, that’s good.” He whispers and finally allows himself to place hot kisses on your shoulder and up your neck. “But I’ll go slow anyway.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fandom#doctor spencer reid
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summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)
idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k
warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete
→ in which masterlist!
note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3
p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!
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“baby? i’m home.”
you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.
it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming.
when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains.
so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?
he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived.
“jungkook!” you gasp.
you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.
“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”
“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”
“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!”
“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?”
“that much!”
you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.
are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?
“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”
“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.”
your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.”
for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do.
he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.”
you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…
your laughter soon transforms into horror.
“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!”
the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.
“jungkook!”
you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.
“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm.
“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.”
you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much.
a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on.
“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice.
there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots.
“this one’s new.” he comments.
you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”
“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”
“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”
“really?”
“mhmm…”
his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago.
for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”
“huh…?” you blink.
“you didn’t know?”
you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him?
“i tucked him into his bed last night.”
you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family.
you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature.
you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache.
“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”
a pinch in your heart.
you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”
“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”
“you can?” your face lights up.
“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”
that makes you frown.
“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”
“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.”
he bats his eyelashes.
“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”
and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet?
you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.”
“i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth.
“sleepy?”
he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.”
“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”
you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.
he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh.
“you sure that’s all you needed?”
“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”
“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”
“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively.
“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.
“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”
“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”
“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”
“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered.
he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom.
it becomes silent again after that.
the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.
“i realized something.”
“what is it?”
“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”
“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”
“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.”
this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface.
“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”
you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.
“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”
jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.”
“our story is different!”
the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.
“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.
“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer.
“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”
“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”
“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”
“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”
“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.
wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath.
“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen.
you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting.
“hold on, where is bam then?”
“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.”
“of course he’d choose that over a human.”
“i bribed him too early.” he laments.
“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”
he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies.
he’s seriously a large and tall dog.
“bam, what are you doing here?!”
bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back.
“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.”
bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.
“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”
“he’s got some big muscles like you.”
“of course! he got it from me.”
jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language.
you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this.
“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment.
the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits.
“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.
he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much.
you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking.
“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s.
jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense.
you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.
“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”
he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing.
“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”
he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.
“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.”
you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”
“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again.
“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”
jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.
“…did you mean me or bam?”
“you!” you chuckle.
“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”
you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”
“i love you more…”
jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland.
heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again.
his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.
#jungkook#jungkook drabble#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#jungkook one shot#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts reaction
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The Noah Schnapp Situation Going Into S5
With Stranger Things Season 5 coming out this year, we are unfortunately going to see a revival of the debacle around Noah, even though by then it will be an almost 2 year old subject. So, I thought I would get ahead of that with some of my thoughts based on what I've seen these last few weeks and more broadly over the last 6 or more months I've been on this scene.
Spoiler Alert: This is going to be a long one. It'll probably be my new pinned post.
Why Still Talk About It?
Frankly? Because it's still going on. Keep in mind, Liam Payne died in October 2024 (just three months ago), right around Noah's birthday, and THIS is how Twitter responded to that.
And just in case anyone thinks I had to dig back a whole 3 months to find Noah-hate-content on Twitter, here was just random things I grabbed from the last week:
Which brings me to the next point.
Why Do You Even Care?
"Noah doesn't know you." "He's not your pookie."
I know that. The funny thing is, from what little I know about Noah, I'm pretty sure if he DID know me beyond the ONE DM conversation we've had, he'd probably tell me to chill. Dude is very non-confrontational and nice. So, why do it?
Because I think the online movement in favor of Palestinian self-determination has been hijacked by teenagers and performative leftists who care more about looking good for their peers than practicing what they preach.
Because (as you can see above and in screenshots like the one below), people who claim to hold my liberal/progressive/left-leaning values have used this as an opportunity to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards a then-19-year old who had JUST come out of the closet.
Proponents of the hate campaign against Noah have said that they are just "holding him accountable" or "criticizing him" in the hopes he "learns something."
Look up. Point to me which image is accountability. Point to me the valid criticisms.
There are none. There is just flagrant homophobia. And then there are posts like this one, coming from the same crowd:
This behavior is wrong on its face.
It is violent. It is bullying (which doesn't seem like strong enough of a word) and it's bigoted.
Wanna see more? Look up @noah_schnapp on Twitter/X. See what they've done to his account.
Inevitably, some of the people participating in this will see this blog post. If you've made it this far, this is for you:
This behavior discredits your activism. It makes you look performative and fake to say in one breath that you are a "Leftist" who cares about Palestinian lives as well as the lives of minority groups worldwide, and then to turn around and talk like this about a Jewish person and a gay KID. Because he WAS a kid when this started. Furthermore, it makes it clear to those of us who actually hold the beliefs we claim, that you are vapid enough to use Palestinian suffering for your own personal vendettas. That the APPEARANCE of goodness is more important than goodness itself. And that you will shuck solidarity with minority groups the MOMENT one of them steps out of the lines you have drawn around them.
Not to mention...
It's Based Mostly On Lies
As a reminder, this is what Noah Schnapp actually said shortly after October 7, 2023:
Read that again.
"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self-determination in Palestine." That was part of the very first thing he ever said about the issue.
And then this happened:
This was the image he was crucified for.
Stickers that weren't even his. That he wasn't holding up or making. He was in a cafe, someone else came up to him with them, and he was videoed with that person.
That's it. That's all. All those tweets you saw above? The fake stories made up about him like this one?
All of that was supposedly "accountability."
The harassment of his family. Murder threats. Rape threats. All for stickers that weren't even his.
There's even a paid Stranger Things author on this very site, styling herself as a Byler shipper, who has contributed to the lies that have further added to the hate campaign I've described.
As an aside, Noah wasn't the only one in that video. The influencers that actually posted the video and HAD THE STICKERS?
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
And just to be clear - I don't think they should get hate. I think non-Jewish online Leftists appropriated a term from Jewish culture, redefined it, and are weaponizing it to beat down Jews all over the internet—which is par for the course for this charcuterie board of performative activism.
Yet the point stands. Noah was specifically targeted; and the homophobia that IMMEDIATELY came from the Left suggests to me that it was his sexuality and cultural/religious identity that motivated the attacks.
Again, I'll say, this is wrong.
Noah Has Since Responded
It hasn't stopped the bullying.
Didn't stop him from withdrawing from spaces he loved. From needing therapy from what we've learned from his now-deleted second TikTok.
And that really says something, does it? He cleared up his point. He tried to clarify and even apologize.
They didn't accept it. Not because it wasn't good enough. Not because it was "too late." Because this was the point. They wanted to keep doing it. They get sick joy from it.
Which is why...
I'm Not Shutting Up About This
This post doesn't even nearly cover the whole situation. The Byler fans who try to replace Noah's image in fan art and fan fiction. Who fan cast themselves as Will instead of Noah. The stalking and doxxing on Twitter. People reporting to GIANT hate accounts his location and when he's alone, PRAYING for him to be hurt.
I wish I could cover it all.
We have to stand up to this. On tumblr, on TikTok, on Threads, Twitter/X—everywhere we see it.
For our gay and Jewish siblings who see how Noah was attacked and feel less safe in their online spaces as a result, we have to speak up and say something.
And yeah. We have to say something for Noah, too.
The person who replied to me like this:
Him?
He did it because he needed to see a show of love from his fans. Doesn't mean he's perfect. Doesn't mean he won't mess up or do something in the future.
And no. Standing up for Noah, or for Jewish people, or other gay folks does not make you a genocide supporter or apologist. It doesn't mean you want any innocent people harmed. Don't give them the power to talk down to you like that. It's bullshit. You know it, and I know it.
All standing up to this vile shit is is an acknowledgement that Noah is a living, breathing person, as some of these people tend to forget.
And he didn't deserve this.
Any of it.
#noah schnapp#will byers#byler#stranger things#ns#antisemitism#stranger things s5#homophobia#antibullying#leftist antisemitism#leftist homophobia#jewish tumblr#jewish#jewblr#jumblr#lgbtqia+#anti-discrimination#performative activism
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FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST
this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates
i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!
please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.
full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:
FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:
DAY 1: helpless
DAY 2: solitary confinement
DAY 3: "bite down on this"
DAY 4: obedience
DAY 5: rope burns
DAY 6: "you lied to me"
DAY 7: suffering in silence
DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"
DAY 9: bees
DAY 10: killing in self defence
DAY 11: time loop
DAY 12: semi-conscious
DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"
DAY 14: blood-stained tiles
DAY 15: "who did this to you?"
DAY 16: came back wrong
DAY 17: hostage situation
DAY 18: too weak to move
DAY 19: "please don't"
DAY 20: truth serum
DAY 21: unresponsive
DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"
DAY 23: presumed dead
DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"
DAY 25: waterboarding
DAY 26: "help them"
DAY 27: left for dead
DAY 28: "no... not like this"
DAY 29: not allowed to die
ALTERNATE PROMPTS:
is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!
ALT 1: human shield
ALT 2: "i love you"
ALT 3: found footage
ALT 4: human weapon
ALT 5: cpr
ALT 6: immortality
ALT 7: last words
ALT 8: killing game
ALT 9: lightning strike
ALT 10: last man standing
RULES:
SOFT RULES:
prompts should be answered in the form of whump
creators can produce whatever kind of media they want
you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to
you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event
you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr
if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days
if you have questions consult the faq before asking
HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)
when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:
febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)
the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…
nsfw (if relevant)
and any trigger warnings that may be important!
you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump
i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 birthday sex ¿¡
pairing bf¡drew starkey x fem¡reader
summary just reader dealing with horny drew while hes away on his birthday
contatins fluff, slightly suggestive, age gap, drew texting like an old man!!
a/n little birthday texting oneshot because i love him so much agh!!
word count 702
ml <3: Where is my happy birthday?
You grinned, perking up when you noticed the message you received from your boyfriend. You typed in a quick response, knowing how sulky he gets when you take long to reply, especially when he’s away.
You: okay damn straight to the point
You: it hasnt even turned 12 yet :(
ml <3: Gurl
You: men used to go to the war
You: now they have sass competitions w/ their girlfriends 😒
ml <3: Lolll
ml <3: That’s not funny
You: why are you loling then old man
ml <3:: Hey! I’m not that old
You: well
You: u JUST turned 31
You: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYYY I LOVE YOU
You: I wish I can see you :(
ml <3: Hahaha thank youuuu!
ml <3: I love you beautiful
ml <3: I can't wait to land I miss my pretty girlfriend
You: stawppp blushes like a slut
ml <3: ??? Excuse me!
ml <3: Proof? Send picture
You: u nasty
You: are u into that degrading shit
ml <3: I mean
ml <3: I don’t mind it
ml <3: If you like it then I do and if you don't then it’s okay. Either way I am happy as long as you’re content baby!
You: stop why’d u take that so srsly i was joking
You: is this the perks of turning 31
ml <3: Ugh 🙄
ml <3: You always do this!
You: ugh ure so cute i cant believe ure 21
You: 31* oops
ml <3: Are you shaming me for growing now?
You: no i love u
ml <3: You*
You: i have a surprise for u
You: i cant wait for u to land
ml <3: YOU HAVE A SURPRISE FOR ME??? 😇
You: yeahahh
ml <3: What is it
ml <3: Please show me Please Pleaseeeeee
You: its a surprise i cant :( when u get home i swear!
ml <3: Did you get me condoms?
You: pardon me!
You: when have i ever gotten you condoms for ur birthday
ml <3: 😏
You: get that skunky face off my screen
ml <3: 😒
You: LMAO
ml <3: Tell me!
You: i cant baby that will ruin the surprise
ml <3: Are you like…
You: ??? am i what
ml <3: did you actually get me condoms
You: why do u keep bringing up the condoms is it on ur birthday wishlist or something
ml <3: It’s not a bad present
You: DREW.
ml <3: Can we fuck when I get back
You: oh
ml <3: Ugh I miss you
ml <3: Jus’ thought about fucking you and now I’m horny
You: are u like
ml <3: Am I what baby
You: are u trolling ahaha is this a joke
ml <3: …
You: drew omff
You: why would you say that
ml <3: Sorry baby
ml <3: Fuck I miss your lips
You: which ones
You: i take that back please dont answer
ml <3: Both
ml <3: Can we have birthday sex please
You: hello??? where did that come from
ml <3:: Sorry I’m horny
ml <3: Do you think it feels different from normal sex
You: well if i had to guess it would probably be more thrilling, maybe?
ml <3: We should test out that theory
ml <3: Verify whether it’s true
You: shush omg
You: u suck
ml <3: My dick
ml <3: can you suck my dick when I’m back
You: omg shut up
ml <3: Is that a no? :(
You: yeah… ur 31!!! too old 4 me
ml <3: Nah you're right I could be your father
You: k its not that bad
You: it’s only 4 years
ml <3: 6*
ml <3: actually
ml <3: 7 now what the fuck
You: STOPP
You: ure so cute please marry me
ml <3: Lol
ml <3: I’m horny
You: drew omg
ml <3: Should I rub one out in the plane bathroom?
You: 🤦♀️
You: just wait until ure back
ml <3: Wait
ml <3: WAIT AXTUALLY?
You: WHAT
ml <3: ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS
ml <3: Omg I am so Excited
You: loser
ml <3: So, birthday sex yeah?
You: i hate you
ml <3: i love you too baby
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron#outer banks#drew starkey fluff
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cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance
words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)
masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9
If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?
The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.
Really, it could have easily been any of the three.
Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.
You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.
Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.
It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.
Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.
You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.
That pipeline got you nowhere.
Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.
To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.
Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.
You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.
It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.
You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.
(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.
Fuck.
The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.
Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.
You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.
Because you don’t.
Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”
At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.
You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.
You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.
Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.
Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.
You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.
The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.
Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”
You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.
Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”
A pregnant pause.
“…Care to explain?”
You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.
How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.
It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.
But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.
Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.
In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.
Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.
“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”
The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’
And so you do.
You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.
“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”
You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.
“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”
The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”
Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”
“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”
At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.
To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”
Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.
“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”
“S-sue?” you choke out.
Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”
You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.
“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”
“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”
You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”
“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”
Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.
Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”
At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”
You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.
“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”
“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”
Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”
“Tch.”
You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.
After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.
Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.
You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.
You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”
“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”
You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”
At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”
He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”
As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.
“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”
Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”
That’s what’s bothering him?
You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”
“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”
You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”
You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.
You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”
Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.
He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.
And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.
“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”
tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69
˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~
#can yall just#like#kiss already#i'm all for slow-burn but this is just too much#(bangs my head against the table bc i just remembered i'm the author???)#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#mha imagines#bnha imagines#mha scenarios#bnha scenarios#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n
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summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room.
You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later.
“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance.
“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual.
“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?”
You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it.
“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.”
Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head.
“What do you do there, lovely?”
The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say.
“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.”
It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click.
Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?”
“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily.
“I was paying her a compliment.”
“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.”
The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary.
Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open.
“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed.
It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind.
Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this.
And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet.
Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich.
“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.”
Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.
“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.”
You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.”
“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”
You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty.
“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say.
“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. ���Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.”
Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs.
#roommate!james potter#shy!reader#roommate!james potter x shy!reader#james potter au#james potter#james potter x shy!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader#marauders au
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Writing Notes: Speech & Language
Milestones Related to Speech and Language
Birth to 5 months
Coos
Vocalizes pleasure and displeasure sounds differently (laughs, giggles, cries, or fusses)
Makes noise when talked to
6 to 11 months
Understands "no-no"
Babbles (says "ba-ba-ba")
Says "ma-ma" or "da-da" without meaning
Tries to communicate by actions or gestures
Tries to repeat your sounds
Says first word
2 to 17 months
Answers simple questions nonverbally
Says 2-3 words to label a person/object (pronunciation may not be clear)
Tries to imitate simple words
Vocabulary of 4-6 words
18 to 23 months
Vocabulary of 50 words, pronunciation is often unclear
Asks for common foods by name
Makes animal sounds ("moo")
Starting to combine words ("more milk")
Begins to use pronouns ("mine")
Uses 2-word phrases
2 to 3 years
Knows some spatial concepts ("in" or "on")
Knows pronouns ("you," "me" or "her")
Knows descriptive words ("big" or "happy")
Uses 3-word sentences
Speech becomes more accurate, but may still leave off-ending sounds. Strangers may not understand much of what is said.
Answers simple questions
Begins to use more pronouns ("you" or "I")
Uses question inflection to ask for something ("my ball?")
Begins to use plurals ("shoes" or "socks"; regular past tense verbs, "jumped")
3 to 4 years
Groups objects, such as foods or clothes
Identifies colors
Uses most speech sounds, but may distort some of the more difficult sounds, such as l, r, s, sh, ch, y, v, z, th. These sounds may not be fully mastered until age 7 or 8.
Uses consonants in the beginning, middle, and ends of words.
Some of the more difficult consonants may be distorted, but attempts to say them
Strangers are able to understand much of what is said
Able to describe the use of objects ("fork" or "car")
Has fun with language; enjoys poems and recognizes language absurdities ("Is that an elephant on your head?")
Expresses ideas and feelings rather than just talking about the world around him or her
Uses verbs that end in "ing" ("walking" or "talking")
Answers simple questions ("What do you do when you are hungry?")
Repeats sentences
4 to 5 years
Understands spatial concepts ("behind" or "next to")
Understands complex questions
Speech is understandable, but makes mistakes pronouncing long, difficult, or complex words ("hippopotamus")
Uses some irregular past tense verbs ("ran" or "fell")
Describes how to do things (e.g., painting a picture)
Lists items that belong in a category (e.g., animals or vehicles)
Answers "why" questions
5 years
Understands time sequences (e.g., what happened first, second...)
Carries out a series of 3 directions
Understands rhyming
Engages in conversation
Sentences can be 8 or more words in length
Uses compound and complex sentences
Describes objects
Uses imagination to create stories
NOTE
The ability to hear is essential for proper speech and language development.
Hearing problems may be suspected in children who are not responding to sounds or who are not developing their language skills appropriately.
The above are some age-related guidelines that may help to decide if your child is experiencing hearing problems.
It's important to remember that not every child is the same.
Children reach milestones at different ages.
Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ On Children ⚜ Hearing ⚜ Children's Dialogue
#children#writing reference#writeblr#spilled ink#creative writing#writing tips#milestones#literature#writing notes#studyblr#writing prompt#writing#writers on tumblr#dark academia#poets on tumblr#langblr#light academia#paul peel#writing resources
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Tormented Spirit | 12
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones
Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.
At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.
Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.
"Daughter." "Sister."
These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.
Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."
Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?
Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."
Your face drops as you turn to her.
She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.
Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."
Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."
Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"
You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."
Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."
Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.
The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"
He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"
You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.
"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."
You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."
Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."
You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.
You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.
You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.
"What?" you knit your brows at him.
"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."
He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"
Your maester nods, "highly likely."
You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."
You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.
"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.
It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."
Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.
We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.
"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."
Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"
"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.
"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."
Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"
"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"
This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."
Corlys sighs, "as I was-"
"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.
Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"
Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"
Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"
Daemon whips his head his direction.
"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"
"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"
Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."
His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."
Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"
Daemon clenches his plate
"And she never mentioned thi—"
"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.
Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"
"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.
Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."
Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.
"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!
He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.
He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.
You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.
He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.
He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.
𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢
A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.
He's read enough.
Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.
You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.
Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."
You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"
"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."
Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."
" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.
"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."
You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.
"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."
"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.
He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."
You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."
"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."
Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."
He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."
"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."
Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.
"Continue!"
He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"
"He is," you scratch your eyes.
"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."
You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.
"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."
You feel sick, sicker.
"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."
You heave as you continue walking around.
"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."
You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.
"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."
"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.
He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."
"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"
He is taken off guard when you shove him back.
"Even you are against me!"
Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."
You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"
His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.
"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"
"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"
"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"
He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.
You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.
Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.
"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."
"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"
"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"
He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.
"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."
He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"
"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."
His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."
You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.
When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.
He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.
You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."
His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.
The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.
He frowns.
"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."
He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.
You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"
The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."
You huff, "I am her older si-"
"But for your babe."
You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.
"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."
The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."
"My princess."
"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"
He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.
The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.
The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.
Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.
"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."
Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"
"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."
The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."
You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.
Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."
You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.
Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.
You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.
"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"
His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.
"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.
You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.
Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?
As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.
Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."
You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.
"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."
You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.
"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"
"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."
His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"
You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."
He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"
"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."
Viserys turns to you.
You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."
He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."
You find no comfort in his words.
"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."
The thought nearly makes you flinch.
He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"
You begin to feel sick.
"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."
Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.
"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."
His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.
"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"
"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."
"Eadan—"
He grins and points, "little fire."
"—and Alaeric," you huff.
"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."
You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."
He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."
"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."
He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"
"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."
Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"
You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."
"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.
Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"
You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.
Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.
"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"
Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.
Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.
The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.
It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.
Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your bum, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."
Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.
Your scream makes his stomach curdle.
Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.
Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."
The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.
You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."
The thought is gutting.
You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."
Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as you lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.
Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.
Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.
You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.
Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"
"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."
Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.
You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."
She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."
A tear fogs your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?
She wordlessly agrees.
You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."
A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."
"They're perfect, are they not?"
She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."
You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maesters see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.
You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.
Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."
"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve?"
You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."
"My princess, I-"
"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"
He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."
You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.
Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their duty and vows.
Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully takes it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"
"I..." he starts, about to explain it is inappropriate.
"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."
"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.
All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.
You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.
Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.
Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"
You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.
"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."
The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.
He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."
A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.
"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.
The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"
Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."
"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"
Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"
"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.
The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"
"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.
Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"
"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"
"Please."
The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."
"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."
Arryk turns to Erryk.
"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.
Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.
Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.
"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.
The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.
Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.
Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"
Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."
Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"
You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"
"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.
You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"
"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.
You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"
Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.
#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon smut#daemon targaryen smut#daemon fluff#daemon targaryen fluff#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon smut#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#daemon angst#daemon targaryen angst#daemon#daemon targeryan#house of the dragon
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mama’s girl
pairing: perv neighbor!agatha x reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ kinda dun-con, manipulation, pervy acts: stealing underwear and hidden camera, guided masturbation, guided a lot of things actually, lots of titty sucking (& play), pussy eating & fingering, orgasm control, bondage, marking, possessive agatha, edging, age gap, & stalking lmk if i missed anything
a/n: this is definitely a dark fic so read at your own risk! also just a reminder that my page is not for minors <3
summary: you introduced yourself to your new neighbor and she takes a liking to you
You had moved into a new apartment after graduating college, and decided to introduce yourself to people living across the hall. You were absolutely thrilled when the door opened, and an older brunette woman opened the door. All thoughts of yours went out the window as she greeted you hello.
“Hi- Hi! I’m Y/N, I just moved in across the hall and I just wanted to introduce myself. I- uh made you some cookies as a sign of good faith. I’m trying to make some friends or uh at least friendly faces. Umm yeah so if you ever need anything I’ll be across the hall.”
“Thank you very much sweetheart. That’s quite a sweet gesture hun. Why don’t I tell you what, why don’t we do dinner sometime together? Would that be okay with you sweetness?”
“Yes! We can do dinner at mine this Friday at 7 if that works, I’ve been meaning to try out a few recipes if that’s okay with you.”
“Perfectly fine, I’ll see you on Friday honey.”
You giddly skipped back to your room, unaware of the thoughts swirling in Agatha’s head. You had made quite the impression on her. After you left, Agatha had to take quite a few breaths after seeing you. You were such a sweet and innocent sight, and she just had to have you for herself. She couldn’t wait for Friday, she had the perfect opportunity to start leaving her claim on you. She took a bite out of your cookie, and fuck, she couldn’t wait for Friday.
The rest of the week dragged around slowly for both of you. You couldn’t shake your hot neighbor out of your head, although you felt guilty for crushing on her. Opposingly, Agatha has been keeping tabs on you, she’s found where you work and found your socials online. She spent a significantly long time through your Instagram, enjoying herself while discovering the bikini pics you’ve posted from your last vacation.
When it’s time to head over on Friday, she carries a larger than necessary bag. You let her inside, your stomach swirling at the sight of her dressed up. She greets you with a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and your breath catches in your throat. She hands you a bottle of wine she brought over, and you hurriedly rush into the kitchen to break it open. She uses this opportunity to take a look around your house, finding her way into the bedroom. She immediately starts on pulling out the secret camera she brought, placing it onto one of your picture frames facing your bed. Making sure you didn’t come back, she starts going through your drawers until she finds your underwear drawer, digging through and grabbing a few to take home. She stuffs them into her purse and starts to take a look around your room, observing all the decorations you have up.
You walk into your room and see her observing a picture of yours.
“Agatha? What are you doing in here?”
“Oh sweetheart, forgive me. I was trying to find your bathroom to freshen up and came in here instead. I saw these adorable pictures and got distracted.”
A small blush forms at your cheeks at her comments and you guide her back towards your living room. She flashes you a grateful smile at the glass of wine and you can feel yourself falling for her with every passing moment. Dinner went smoothly, and you sighed in relief when Agatha showed signs that she enjoyed your food. She moaned out in delight at your cooking, and your cheeks flushed even further when your mind thought of where else she would make those noises. Dessert continued to be a success and she thanked you for the beautiful meal.
You both talk for quite a bit that night, Agatha trying to find out anything she could about you. You found it sweet how Agatha took so much interest in you, asking you many questions about your life. You answered her questions honestly and started rambling about your life to her. Agatha looked at you so sweetly but there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. You brushed it off, blaming it on the wine. Agatha’s delighted at all the information you gave for her including that you’re single, you started a new job as a receptionist, and you’ve just moved here away from most of your friends and family. The night goes swimmingly with both of you laughing and chatting about work and it’s past midnight when Agatha leaves your apartment. She heads straight to the bedroom, not bothering to take off her shoes before unzipping her dress and taking one of your panties out of her bag.
She starts to grind against your panties, the lace feeling heavenly against her clit as she moans out your name. The thoughts of you tonight flashing your precious eyes at her takes her over the edge, and she collapses against her bed, she decides she’ll clean up tomorrow.
She runs into you tomorrow while you’re about to leave your apartment, finding you dressed up in a tight dress and some heels.
“Oh, hi Agatha. I’m headed out for a date right now. This girl asked me out today while I was getting my coffee. I have to go now but I’ll see you around. We should grab dinner sometime, I’ll text you!”
Agatha bids you goodbye, wishing you good luck before entering her place and heading straight to the bedroom. She fishes out another pair of panties of yours and puts it on while grabbing a vibrator and placing over her clothed clit, grinding and bucking as her juices leaked out and into your panties. She pulls out her phone and opens the app connected to the camera in your room. She scrolls back to the footage from earlier today, watching you get ready. She nearly came as soon as she saw you, but took her time as she watched you get ready, enjoying the way your precious body looked. Her orgasm fell over her in waves, desperation rolled over her as she had to have you.
The next time you both get together, Agatha makes sure to dress to get your attention. She knows that you have a small crush on her, but she needs you desperate for her. It seemed to have worked, as Agatha noticed your eyes on her the entire night, even stuttering over your words a little when she decided to hold eye contact with you. Your heart nearly stopped when she went to wipe a food stain near your lips, licking her finger before gently wiping it off. She pats your cheek before she heads back to your seat, and she knows she has you hooked.
“So honey, how’s everything going with you? Anyone you’ve been intimate with recently? You’ve been going on quite a few dates.”
Your face heats up at her question and you just duck your head out of embarrassment. You’ve never actually had sex with someone before and you were sure Agatha would laugh at you, obviously she was expecting to share and reflect on details of both of your sex lives. You look up at her sheepishly and she tilts her head curiously.
“I- uh well, I’ve never actually had sex with someone. It sounds stupid but I’ve never found someone to do it with and I’m too scared I’ll be bad at it now.”
“Oh sweetheart, you poor thing. Let me help you sweetheart. I’ll teach you all you need to know and show you exactly what it feels like.”
“You would do that for me? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you’re probably not interested in a girl like me.”
“Nonsense sweetheart. I’ll help a sweet thing like you out. We can start off with weekly lessons and adjust as needed, we can do them on Fridays, right around this time. Here, why don’t we just get started right now. I want you to undress for me sweetheart while making eye contact, and take your time with it.”
You followed her directions exactly, locking eyes with her while slowly lifting your shirt up. At the pleased smile on her face, you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you half-naked under her gaze.
“Very good sweetheart, now why don’t you take off your bra for me. We’ll start easy for today, only playing with your boobs. A very important rule I have sweetheart, is that you will not touch yourself unless I give you permission, do you understand me? I don’t want you to explore by yourself sweetheart, you might hurt yourself.”
You nodded while undoing the clasp for the bra, letting your perky boobs show.
“Very good darling, now I want you to hold them and move them around slowly, and see how it feels.”
“Feels good.”
“Oh and one more thing sweetheart, you’re going to start addressing me as mommy from now on, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes mommy, I understand.”
“Good girl, go ahead and squeeze them for me. Take your time and squeeze.”
You were a bit confused and tried to squeeze them but it didn’t feel right.
“Here honey, let me help you. Just hold your tits up for me sweetheart, I’ll show you how to pleasure yourself.”
You feel a certain wetness as she walks over to you and grabs both of your tits with your hands. You let her squeeze and grab and pull as she wanted, the pleasure clouding over your brain.
“Now sweetheart, I’m going to lick your nipples okay? I promise you’re going to feel so good baby, let mommy show you.”
You nodded and she brings her mouth to your left tit, engulfing your perked up nipple. You let out a small moan when you feel her start to suck. You can feel her smirk and chuckle around your nipple and let out a small apology.
“No need sweetheart. Moan as loud as you want for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises coming out of your mouth.”
With that she switches over to your right nipple, giving just as much attention as she gave your left. You let out breathy moans for her and she starts to suck even harder. She guides you to lay down on the sofa while worshipping your breasts, making sure you’d be thinking about her for the next week.
She pulls away from your tits, a trail of saliva connecting her mouth to you before she eagerly connects your lips. She moans into the kiss as she sucks at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth letting her inside. She completely dominates the kiss and it turns you fuzzy. You kiss back passionately, trying to please her the best you could. She doesn’t let you breathe, too focused on claiming your lips. She eventually pulls away, pupils dilated and breath heavy.
“Baby, it’s your turn now. I want you to practice what you just learned, okay? Practice on mama sweetheart.”
Agatha pulls down her zipper and exposes her tits to you, she had omitted her bra for the night. She guided your head to one of her nipples, and you eagerly latched on. You loved this position, being so close to Agatha had your mind blanking. The only thing you could think about was staying close to Agatha, your hands roaming her tits, exploring and playing as you eagerly continued sucking on Agatha. You switched your mouth over to her other nipples and renewed sucking, moaning at the action. Agatha couldn’t believe her luck, how easily you fell into her, and how much you loved this. It would be so easy to just have you spread your legs apart and let Agatha finger you have you fall apart on her lap. The thought had her mind reeling and she realized it was time to cut it off for the night, before she couldn't control herself anymore.
When she pulls you away, you look up at her pouting, eager to go back to what you were doing. Agatha tells you it’s enough for the first lesson, and we can carry on next week. She gently cups your cheek before kissing you goodbye. You stand up with her, putting on your bra before seeing her out the door. You give a small wave goodbye before heading into bed, your mind running blank at the events of the evening. The rest of the week went no better for you, you could barely focus on work, only thinking about the next time you would see Agatha.
Agatha was seeming to handle the gap a lot better than you, using your lacy underwear and her toys to get herself while thinking of how easily you trusted her to touch you. She couldn’t wait for your lesson this week.
When Friday rolled around, you put on your prettiest set of lingerie, hoping it would impress Agatha. You were a skimpy dress, one that would be easier for Agatha. You had everything perfectly set up for when she arrived, and now you were just waiting for her to knock on your door. See Agatha wanted to fuck with you a bit, she knew that you’d be so eager and pliant for her, but she had to keep you just as desperate for her. She purposely arrived a few minutes late, knowing your brain would be just that much happier to see her.
You welcomed her with a hug before moving back to the couch, waiting for her next move. You were surprised to see her sit so close to you, but you weren’t complaining when you saw the low cut top she was wearing again.
“Now sweetheart, today’s lesson is going to be very up close and personal. I need you to trust mommy to show you what to do and let mommy make the best decisions for you, alright? As a reward, if you’re good for mama, I’ll let you play with mama’s nipples again. You be good for me and you can play again since you liked that so much.”
“Yes, mommy. I’ll be good for you.”
“That’s my girl, let’s get you out of this dress hm?” When Agatha saw what you wore underneath your dress, she was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you were trying to seduce her, “What’s this sweetheart? You were trying to get mommy all worked up hm? Did you think this would help you?”
“No- no mommy. I just wanted you to like me and I thought you would like it if I wore something pretty.”
Agatha smiled at you, of course you had just wanted to please her, you were her innocent girl after all.
“Alright sweetheart, I’m going to remove your panties now. I want you to keep your hands on the couch when I touch you.”
You placed your palms firmly on the couch, gripping tighter as Agatha got closer to your core. She used a finger to swirl and stroke around your entrance but she never entered. She played around like that for a few minutes, watching how wet you quickly became. She gently pushed a finger into you, delighted at the load gasp you let out. She placed a gentle kiss to your thigh before pushing her finger deeper and then pulling it back out. Agatha repeated the motion for a bit, letting you get used to the intrusion, before picking up the pace and watching the way your face contorted in pleasure. She continued the pace for a bit before slipping in another finger.
You started to let out loud moans of her name, unable to control yourself with this new feeling inside of you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, and your moans continued to grow loader. Agatha watched how easily you took her fingers, throbbing and pulsing around them. She could tell you were getting closer to an orgasm and removed her fingers. She brought them up to her mouth to taste, and she couldn’t control her moan at how good you tasted.
“You did so well for me baby. I’m going to show you something else babygirl and then I’ll let you have a turn with mommy okay? Stay good for me, you’re my perfect angel.”
At that, Agatha took her thumb to your clit, before pressing down. You let out a yelp at that, and she swirled her thumb around in apology. She kept playing around, enjoying how nicely you moaned for her, and how desperate your pussy was with the way it was clenching around nothing. She decided to taste you from the source, replacing her thumb with her tongue and swirling delicately around your sensitive nub. You moaned even louder at that and Agatha chuckled directly into you. She continued her teasing, bringing her tongue down your slit, licking a few stripes before teasing your entrance and then pulling away all together.
Your mouth hung open trying to catch your breath when Agatha pulled away, and she knew she had you right where she wanted you.
“Alright baby, you were so good for me. I’ll let you pick your reward honey. Do you wanna play with mama’s boobs or her pussy?”
“Umm, I don’t know mommy, what if I’m not good at playing with your pussy? I like playing with your boobs.”
“Oh sweetheart, how about you give it a chance alright? I’ll let you play extra with my boobs if it’ll make you feel better.”
You nod at her, and she leans back against the couch with her leg spread open.
“Okay baby, why don’t you kneel in front of me. It’ll make things easier for you.”
Ever so obedient, you immediately kneel in front, and make your way to undo her skirt. Agatha helps you in ridding her skirt and underwear, before spreading her legs open for you, allowing you to see her glistening pussy.
“Now baby, I’ll give you a few minutes to let you play however you want, but when I tell you to, enter two of your fingers inside of me okay?”
You nod before letting your fingers roam through her slit, sliding through a few times before reaching her clit. When you peer up at Agatha, she’s breathing heavily so you assume you’re doing something right. You gently rub at her clit, smiling when she lets out a moan. Agatha snakes a hand into your hair, and you let that be your sign to continue.
“Baby, I want you to go inside me now okay? Mommy wants to feel good.”
You slipped two fingers inside and started pumping them inside. The hand in your hair tightened and you continued your pace, spurred on by her moans. You continue to finger her but your mouth can’t resist the sight of clit. You take it into your mouth and Agatha nearly screams at the sensation.
“Oh, oh just like that angel. You’re making me feel so good sweetheart, I’m so close angel just keep going. So good for me honey.”
You double your efforts, desperate to please her. In a couple more sucks, you feel a warm liquid gush out of Agatha and you eagerly lap it up, becoming addicted to the taste. She gently pulls you away from her core and into her lap.
“Oh my darling, you were such a good girl for me baby. Do you want mommy’s boobs now? You can have anything you like doll.”
“I want your boobies mommy, but I have a question for you.”
“What is it baby?”
“What was the liquid at the end, I didn’t have that when you were playing with me mommy.”
“Oh honey. That's what happens with you have an orgasm. I haven’t given you one yet because I want you to be able to focus on properly learning sweetheart. I was going to introduce orgasms to you at our next lesson.”
You nodded at her before tugging at her top, begging to see her tits again. Agatha removes her top and bra for you, and you eagerly dive in. She lets you rest against her as you seek her out and she sighs in relief. Her plan was falling nicely into place and she couldn’t be happier. Before long, Agatha realized how late it was for you and decided to call it a night. She pressed a gentle kiss to you before leaving, promising how good the next lesson will be for you if you remembered her rules. You promised her before shutting the door behind her.
You immediately headed into the shower to try and calm down. Everything about tonight made your head spin and you didn’t want to be apart from Agatha. You tucked yourself to bed and hoped that this week would fly by.
Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t escape the curiosity of an orgasm. You wanted to know what it felt like and you weren’t sure if you could wait all the way until Friday. You laid down in bed fully naked. You felt really awkward doing this, it didn’t feel anything remote to what you were doing with Agatha, that was what made you excited.
Your finger approached your core and you weren’t even sure what to do first. You let yourself explore for a few minutes but it didn’t feel anything close to how Agatha had touched you. Rubbing your clit didn’t help much either, and you groaned out in frustration. All of a sudden you realized you had broken Agatha’s rules. Suddenly you shot out of bed and started panicking. What if she stopped seeing you after this because you became her bad girl? You burst out into tears and realized you needed to see her right now. Little did you know, Agatha watched the whole thing go down through her camera. She had been checking up on you to make sure you were obeying her, and she was thoroughly disappointed to see you breaking her rules. What she didn’t expect even more was you knocking at her door, half naked in tears.
She ushered you inside and brought you in for a hug, trying to figure out what happened.
“Mommy, I’m so sorry. I- I’m so sorry mommy. I was a bad girl. I messed up. I’m so sorry you have to forgive me, I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ll never do anything like this again, please don’t hate me mama.”
Agatha took pity on you and decided to take it easy on you. “What do you mean baby? What happened sweetheart? I would never hate you.”
“I- I broke your rule,” you hiccuped between words, completely overwhelmed with your current situation. “I was curious about what you said about orgasming and I wanted to see what it was and practice on myself. I didn’t even get to touch myself very well because it didn’t feel like when you did it but I still broke your rule and I’m sorry.”
You were wailing at this point and Agatha felt sorry for you. Did she hate that you disobeyed her? Yes. However she was just going to edge you once before letting you orgasm.
“Oh my darling, you’re still my girl sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m disappointed in you but you’ll just take a punishment and if you behave through your punishment, I’ll show you an orgasm.”
You immediately agreed, desperate to get in her good graces.
She laid you down over her couch while removing whatever clothing you had found to cover yourself. Her fingers immediately sunk into your pussy and set an unforgiving pace, you had moaned and wailed around her but you took it, allowing Agatha to use you as she pleased. She knew best after all. You felt a weird sensation in your lower belly and you tried to warn Agatha. She pulled out of you after that. You couldn’t hold back your whine and she stroked your hair.
“Tell me what you want baby.”
“I want you mommy. I want you to play with me all the time, I don’t want to wait until just Fridays anymore. I wanna be with you and sleep with you afterwards and go on dates with you.”
“Sounds an awful lot like you want to be my girl honey. Is that it? You want to be my girl, have mama take care of you? Well, I can’t say I’d be opposed to it. It would be nice to have my baby girl by my side all the time hm. l would like that angel.”
You beam at her and Agatha can’t resist kissing you deeply. Her tongue enters your mouth and immediately establishes dominance, sucking and swirling against yours. You’re breathless when she pulls away, and you immediately chase her lips.
Agatha throws you over her shoulder and brings you into her bedroom, desperate to claim you as hers. She lays you down in the middle of the bed before shuffling through her drawer and pulling out some ribbon. She toes your hands to her bed posts and you peer up at her confused. You refuse to voice anything, not when you were so close to your reward. She starts trailing kisses down your body, taking her time to explore all of you. She leaves hickeys in her wake, and she knows you’ll be wearing her marks for the next few days. The thought fills her with need and she hurries her exploration, stopping right at your glistening pussy.
Agatha dives right in, lapping at your wetness before focusing her attention on your clit. She sucks hard, enjoying the way she can feel you pulse. Your moans are music to her ears and she enters you again, fingering you hard and fast, building you back up to where you were before. She curls her fingers to hit your spongy spot and your mind goes blank. You moan loudly and completely go limp, letting Agatha use your pussy. You feel the same pressure in your tummy again.
“Mama, mama please I feel weird.”
“Oh honey, mama knows. Let go for mama, you’re doing so well for me precious.”
Her words spur you on and you’re falling apart against her fingers, moaning loudly and twitching as you ride out your orgasm. You lay there limply afterwards and Agatha immediately rushes to untie you.
The moment she comes back near you, you cling to her, desperately latching on to her. She lays down comfortably next to you and you immediately bring your head to her chest, right next to her boob. Agatha has an inkling for what you want so she unties her robe, giving you full access to her. Your head piques up with interest and she guides you towards her nipple where you happily latch on. She lets you enjoy your suckling, stroking your head while quietly praising you.
You fall asleep with your mouth latched to her nipple and your other hand by her stomach. Agatha has never been happier, wearing a giddy smile as she starts to feel drowsy. She’ll take down her cameras soon, knowing that she’ll eventually have you living with her anyways. Pressing another kiss to your head, she lets sleep claim her knowing she has everything she wants.
notes: i feel like this is terrible so im very very sorry if it is 😔
tag list: @morbidlcve
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#agatha all along#marvel#x reader#agatha harkness smut#wlw#talia’s fics ໒꒱.*
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Sundered 8: BRAKES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments
word count: 6.7k
But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
“Did you find it?” Before Satoru could even answer, you came jogging in. Your gaze shifted between him and Toji, curious as you noticed the awkward silence that took over when you approached. Or…has it been there before you came? “What is it?” You asked, puzzled. Walking inside, your eyes met Satoru’s. He shook his head, giving a small smile before answering.
“Nothing. Toji was just saying that we should check Yui’s things to make sure we didn’t forget anything else.” You could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, eyes half blinking. “Well yeah, I did. Her extra shirt was still on the hanger. I ironed it earlier.” You walked past him, smiling at Toji before you jogged upstairs, making the two men relax.
“Y-yeah, of course. I could free my schedule, just tell me the details.” Satoru’s voice was much lower; quieter when he was sure that you were out of earshot. Toji nodded, blinking as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her.” Satoru doesn’t know why he hid it from you, but he felt like it would only worry you.
But could he really not tell you about it? He doesn’t want to lie to you.
“You know, it could only worry her; she probably doesn’t even trust us in the same room together.” He added as if sensing Satoru’s doubts. He’s got a point, but still, Satoru wants your relationship to be transparent. Yes, he still hasn’t told you about what happened with Naomi and his mother but that’s a different case.
“Just send me when and where.” Satoru took a deep breath, pulling out a calling card before quickly handing it to Toji as he kept an eye on the hallway to make sure you didn’t see any of it. “Though, she probably won’t be happy about not being informed of this-” Footsteps can be heard as you appear with the clothing item in your hand.
“Why didn’t you go to Yui? Let’s go.” You gave Toji a quick kiss and goodbye before walking out the door, looking back at him just to make sure that he was already after you. And he is, but not without glancing at Toji who only nodded at him. “I was waiting for you, I could see the car from there.” He explained, opening the car door for you.
“Yaaaay Mama! Dada!” The little girl put her hands up, opening and closing her chubby fingers, “Nummy!” She squealed louder as Satoru wiggled the pacifier in his hands, legs kicking as she desperately tried to grab it. “What’s my name?” He tried to keep the object away from her.
“Toru! Dada Toru!” She pushed on her chair, trying to move closer to her dad. Satoru laughed, letting her take the pacifier in her small hands. “Here’s your Nummy.” He cooed before putting on his seatbelt, ready to drive. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze for a split second before you looked away.
“What is it?” He asked you, raising his brows as he drove. You shook your head, “Nothing, I was just…I was wondering if you and Toji get along well now.” You didn’t really want to ask this to Toji because he still gets grumpy at the mere mention of Satoru’s name in your conversations, which can’t be helped since they’re almost always about Yui.
“I think…” He let out a small laugh at the end of his short answer. For a second, he thought about telling you of his conversation with Toji but— ‘It could only worry her.’ His words reverberated in his head, making him bite his lip, waiting for your reaction. “Okay. It’ll get better, I guess.” You let out a large breath, lightly slapping your thighs with your hands.
“I’ll… I’m really trying to be less annoying to him. I know that it’s uncomfortable for the both of you.” He was trying to find the right words to assure you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s threatening your new relationship. Your new happiness.
“And that he probably doesn’t even want you around me even for a minute and that’s why I was saying that we should lessen—” You turned to look at him, making him pause as he quickly glanced at you. He was worried that he may have said something wrong or hurtful to you. That’s the last thing he wants.
“Satoru.” You licked your lips, feeling bad that he was probably feeling the same way you did when he was still with Naomi. Probably much worse because he’s also regretting so many things at the same time. “We don’t have to do that. We do it for Yui, I could talk about it with Toji. I will.” You start to look back on how your ‘talks’ with him went.
But if it’s for Yui, you’re determined to make him understand and make all of this work.
“We can’t give Yui the family she deserves.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you leaned your elbow on the car window, massaging your temple. “But I don’t want her to feel that.” Thinking about the time scares you; how fast it goes, how quickly it changes. You fear that you’ll wake up one day and you won’t have answers to her questions.
“Hey…” You felt a hand on yours, noticing the car stop. You turned your head at Satoru, only noticing how blurry your vision has gotten. “You’re already doing so many things for her. She won’t feel that. That’s why I’m still here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone even if we’re not with each other.”
In Satoru’s head, he doesn’t like that you’re not with each other. But if that’s what heals you from everything he’s put you through, then so be it. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for you; only heaven knows how much he wants to give you everything if only you allow it.
But he’s not that lucky anymore.
It took you a minute to snatch your hand away, probably just needing the warmth that it provided you in that vulnerable time, but you still did. “Sorry,” He murmured as you turned away, wiping under your eyes quickly. “Did you have breakfast? I’ll get us something.” He cleared his throat, thinking about how Toji probably cooked breakfast for you.
“I’ll just have coffee–“ You sat up straight, getting cut off by your baby as she struggled to get out of her seat. “Mama! Ma!” She whined, kicking her feet as she reached up to you and pointing outside. “Do you want something, Miss?” Turning her attention to Satoru. “She wants to go inside.” You spoke, removing your seatbelt.
“Alright, come on.” You stepped out of the car to get her, letting Satoru take her small bag. She squealed at the drawing of the cartoon on the wall, making you kiss her cheek. “That’s why she wanted to go inside.” Satoru laughed, letting you walk in first. Greeted by the employee as you scanned their menu, your daughter started pointing.
“Such a cute baby,” An old woman beside you said, “Looks very much like the Dad.” She laughed, making Satoru pat the little girl’s head, proud. “Thank you, Ma’am. She’s a mini of him.” You joked, allowing the old lady to play with your child as you conversed with the employee.
For some reason, the interaction made you feel warm. It’s been a while since you felt like this when going out with them. You used to avoid these situations with him due to how things were, but lately, your guard’s been down around him. Maybe it’s because you can see with your own eyes how much he changed.
If only he was like this before, would things have been better?
“How old is she?” The old woman’s voice sounded far, drowned by your thoughts. “She’s 2, ma’am.” You could feel Satoru’s hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes met his, overflowing with concern as he tried to keep a conversation with the woman until she left.
“You ok?” He spoke, adjusting Yui on the baby seat. “You zoned out earlier.” He made sure to pull the chair for you before going to his. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just trying to recall if I packed everything she needs.” It wasn’t convincing, but Satoru felt like he’d be meddling too much if he asked further.
Maybe he really should not add up to the things you’re worrying about.
———————————————————
“What is it about?” Satoru’s fingers tapped on his jeans, nervous as to what his baby mama's boyfriend was about to ask him. He was worried that it’d have something to do with the time he spent around you. Satoru isn’t sure if it’s possible to reduce that since you have a daughter.
“You know, to be honest, I just want to know how you see things.” Toji started, putting down his mug. “I know what happened between you and Y/N before I came along but I want to know what you were planning to do if I didn’t appear.” Satoru was confused as to why he was asking all of it but his brain started to think back to it, nonetheless.
At that time, he was thinking about marrying Naomi. He saw it as an assurance that he was doing so much better; convinced that she was truly the one for him. Spending a year with her, he was sure that she was the better person for him. What with his daughter calling her mom, he thought that maybe it could put an end to most of his problems with you.
Recalling all of this just made him realize how much worse things could’ve been.
Seeing the pain in your eyes the moment those hurtful words came out of his mouth set all of these plans on fire. You looked shattered; like the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes died along with your aching heart, hearing that the man you love regrets everything he had with you.
It almost felt like stepping so abruptly on the brakes that he hit his head from the impact. When you crumbled in front of him that day, you were bare to Satoru. All the feelings, all the pain that you held in your heart were presented before him.
Satoru remembered thinking about why you were like that with him, why you acted indifferent. 'She has always loved me this much. She was just hurt.' And it broke him too. A couple of days after that, he tried. He tried to tell himself that it was just the emotions, that it was just the guilt eating him up and that’s why he couldn’t see anything but you.
But he caught himself thinking about how he’d like to put you back together again piece by piece if he was given a chance.
He didn’t think too much of it; just a poor interpretation of his feelings towards your pain. He thought about his loving girlfriend, he reminded himself that there was someone who willingly put up with him when he was a mess. That’s how it always went. That’s how he pushed the thoughts of you away. With her, her words, her touch, her body.
But it’s never enough when he thinks about how you probably cry yourself to sleep at night, thinking about why you weren’t enough to get the same treatment that he was giving her. That’s when his plans started to falter; like a building threatening to crumble, dust began to shower down on them.
The day he went to your house, he found himself fixing his collar, and his hair, thinking about the words to say to you. And if you’re not there, he thought of ways to get to you. But there Toji stood. With a smug look on his face and marks all over his neck that scream “I just fucked the girl you dreamt about last night.”
That day he wanted to ask him directly what the fuck he think he’s doing, but that wouldn’t seem right, knowing that Satoru’s nothing but a baby daddy to you. That day was a deja vu. All the events that happened between the two of you are being shown to him, and it seems like he’s feeling the pain threefold.
After that, Satoru tried. He tried to tell himself that he just got upset because of how disrespectful Toji was acting. He just couldn’t stand that he acted as if he owned everything in that place, even flexing the hickeys you gave him the other night.
He thought that was the worst he could see that day but for some reason, seeing you in that shirt with marks on your collarbones triggered something in him. A question he didn’t see coming popped up in his brain and along with it was the guilt that he felt for his girlfriend:
Am I too late?
The next thing he knew he was getting up and getting ready for when you pick Yui up from his place. He caught himself pulling at his clothes and pushing his hair back as he waited for you to open your door; like a teenage boy waiting for his crush. He denied himself that he wanted to look good; to look better for you.
Until it all sank in; until he couldn’t handle it any longer. Each time he sees you with Toji, doing things that you should be doing with him, he gets pushed a bit more. He was already getting pulled back towards you again even before he came along but now that he’s beside you, it felt like Satoru’s spiraling back to you at the speed of light.
Then, that night happened. When all the bands that he used to stop himself snapped.
“I would appreciate it if we could be honest with each other. This could greatly affect the decisions I’m about to make.” Toji’s serious voice interrupted Satoru’s memories. He blinked, clearing his vision of him. He stared at the cup with a grim expression, which made Satoru realize the weight of the conversation.
This is not just a conversation, Satoru thought, licking his lips before speaking again.
“I’d…Back then, I was denying what I wanted. I…I was trying to get her back. Not just to make up for all that I said and done.” He rubbed his palms on his pants, seeing Toji lean back on his office chair. “I had a girlfriend, then. Naomi. I didn’t really want to admit to myself that my heart wants to get back with Y/N when I’m with someone so good to me.” He shook his head.
Satoru’s disappointment and anger about what happened between him and Naomi felt like a ton on his chest. She was a good woman to him and it’s true, but thinking about how everything aged; he can’t even bear the thought of her and his memories with her. It’s just sad that it had to end that way.
He can’t help but to blame himself for the actions that she took. He could’ve written a better ending for them.
Satoru heard Toji sigh as he straightened his legs under his table, crossing his arms as he nodded for Satoru to continue. “Then, you appeared. And I don’t know. I don’t even know how it happened but everything that I was feeling about her was rushing into me faster than it used to and maybe…” Satoru panted, shrugging as he gestured with his hands.
He couldn’t believe that he was really talking about this to his baby momma's boyfriend. “It just got me desperate. I told myself I was too slow and I lost my chance and I really did but…” He looked at Toji, wanting to convey his sincerity. “I just want her to be happy. I feel like all I did was ruin things for her. I don’t want to ruin what she has with you.”
It was a tough thing to say for Satoru. The words felt like shards of glass in his heart. It’s not what he wants but if it’s what he must do then he’ll do it. Toji’s silence got him wondering if he was pissed or relieved that Satoru was aware that he was not getting you back as long as he was there. But in Toji’s mind, that’s not the case.
“So you’re saying that you wanted to get her back even before she got with me?” He blinked slowly, trying to comprehend Satoru’s words. “I thought you only started to want her back because you don’t want to see her with someone else.” He didn’t bother filtering the words. He can’t think of a better way to put this.
“It’s always her. Even if I end up with someone else, I need her to know that I had always wanted it to be her.”
Toji didn’t think that Satoru would be this transparent to him about his feelings towards you. There was an eerie look in his eyes as he stared at the open window, a defeated look plastered on his face.
“If I didn’t enter the story, would you still be doing all of this for her now?” Satoru’s eyes were back at him, nodding as he sat straight. “Yes. It would probably take longer than it did but I’m sure that I was bound to fall back into her at some point.” Toji’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what the situation would be like if it were like that.
“Weren’t you planning to marry Naomi?” Satoru chuckled bitterly, considering it another poor and rash decision that he made. “I was. Before I fought with Y/N.” Before he found that small light of hope in your eyes. Before he realized that not all of it was lost.
Toji laughed, rubbing his face with his palm as everything that had been going on sank in. He’s talking with his girlfriend’s ex. And he’s telling him all of this. Like it’s the most natural thing to do. He sighed, swallowing as he bit his lip, feeling himself getting agitated by the second.
“I know I said I’d appreciate honesty, but I didn’t think you’d actually say all that to my face.” He chuckled bitterly, recalling every sentiment he just said about you. “I’m her boyfriend. Her new man.” His chest heaved, blinking to allow himself to calm down. He’s the one who asked for this to happen, so why’s he the one getting pissed now?
“What do you want me to say?” Satoru’s voice was calm, looking away from Toji’s piercing glare. “You should’ve just told me to fuck off and stay away, though the latter one’s not possible because Y/N and I have a child.” Satoru sat up straight, as if getting ready to be kicked out. Toji’s jaw tightened visibly at the words.
Not because they’re insulting but because they’re right.
That’s what he wanted to do. He thought that if he couldn’t get you away from Satoru then maybe Satoru could just stay away from you. But obviously, it isn’t just some responsibility for him. Satoru isn’t the type of guy to just send money for his child. He’s not the type of guy to be just happy that his child knows he exists somewhere.
He wants to be present; to be there for Yui and watch her grow. He wants to be with her but of course, your circumstances wouldn’t allow that. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Toji thought it’d be and that’s what makes him mad.
“Toji, I know we’re not on the best of terms with each other, but what are you trying to get with this?” Toji didn’t like how he asked it. It made him sound like a villain and that’s the last thing he wants.
Is he getting so desperate that he allows himself to seem like one? “I agreed to this without knowing what you’re planning to do, I’m just here to be honest to you. Really.” Satoru wanted to ease the tension between the two of them for your sake.
He knows that you’re still very uncomfortable with the two of them being around each other and that you’re also thinking about how to make it better. He thought that this “conversation” would help.
“Do you really love her? Or did you just learn to love her for your child?” Toji gave his all to sound composed, scratching the edges of his thumb with his index finger. “I don’t remember telling myself that I have to love her. I just know that I love her.” Toji could hear his teeth grind against one another; his frustration starting to surface.
“Look, if you want to hear from me that I am not trying to take Y/N away from you then, I’ll just say that.” Toji remained silent, forgetting what this meeting is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to go. He’s bothered by this ever since he fought with you, but he cannot let that cloud his mind of what he would deem to be right.
And obviously, that’s not what’s happening right now.
“But you can’t tell me not to love her when even I myself can’t control that.” You weren’t lying when you said that this man changed a lot. It felt like this is the most mature Toji’s ever heard him talk.
“To feel that is one thing but to act upon it is another and I don’t plan on doing that.” Satoru wondered if you’ve been arguing about this with him, probably why he’s like this. He remembered your problem with him constantly mentioning his wife in whatever you do but after that, you never really told him anything about it anymore.
He didn’t try to pry even when it felt like your mind was always somewhere else because he didn't want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation.
“Well, it’s good that I don’t have to remind you.” Toji murmured, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows. Looking away, he pulled at his collar with his finger. The man in front of him looks nothing like a threat. Yet, he can’t find it in him to let it go.
Probably because deep down, he knows that this is not a one sided problem.
“I won’t ask you to stay away from Yui. I’m a father too. I just needed to hear this all from you, Satoru.” He opened a drawer, taking out a packet of cigarettes before putting one between his lips. The fire from the lighter lit up a portion of his face, inhaling only to let out smoke from one side of his mouth. “Why?” Satoru asked, leaning back.
“I don’t know. So, I could do better I guess?” Toji chuckled, making the other man’s brow bump with each other; not with anger but with an irritating confusion.Just as he was about to ask, Toji answered his question. “We didn’t fight. There’s just nothing left to do about it. Guess we gotta put extra effort.”
With that he stood up, signaling that he’s already over this conversation. And Satoru sat there, still in the dark with his intention. Does he have some kind of mic here that recorded what he just said? Satoru doesn’t care.
What he said was the truth, and it would be too funny to suspect Toji of some kind of evil plan when he’s literally the one who got heated up.
“I hope to work with you better, Satoru. After all, we love the same woman.” With that, he walked to the door to leave but not before Satoru could say a word. “Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.” It came out softer than he intended to. He looked down at his hands as they played with one another; defeated.
He didn’t hear a sigh from Toji. The sound of the door closing was the only signal that he already left. Clicking his tongue, Satoru stood up before running his fingers through his hair. He wonders if it’d be right to ask you about your situation with Toji. He wonders if you also want him to adjust.
He wonders if he’s just a nuisance in your life right now. Like how he made you feel before.
————————————————
“She should start when she’s like four. Or five.” Toji put Yui’s bag down on the couch as they ran around him. The kids were still not tired enough to calm down after a whole day of swimming. Their cheeks are all red from the sun and you mentally noted to put aloe gel on her face before bed.
“Megumi will start next year?” You asked him, hearing a hum as his gaze followed the two kids who ran to your daughter’s room. “‘Gumi we’ll be going in a few, don’t fall asleep!” Toji called to the little boy who only stared at him from a distance before turning away. You felt a pair of hands pull you as Toji sat you on his lap.
“Did you have your own fun too?” He teased, squeezing your thigh as he kissed your cheek. Your mind went back to the other day. It has been a while since the two of you did it due to busy schedules. You admit that you felt like you and Toji are still being extra careful with a few topics but this past few days was a breather.
“Mhm, definitely did.” You whispered to his lips, feeling his teeth bite your bottom one as he kissed you. You don’t know when it started but things started to feel a bit different between you and Toji and you don’t know if it’s because he’s starting to drop his worries for you and Satoru or if it’s because he’s just tired of thinking about it.
You were gonna talk to him regarding that but this weekend kind of assured you that it’s all going fine. As for you, you’re trying your best to adjust. You told yourself a thousand times that you had to think about Toji too and not just yourself but for some reason, you still find yourself questioning how you should do some things.
That’s not a good sign but you thought that maybe you could just take one step at a time. Toji’s making adjustments for you and you can’t just let him do all that work. The only thing you’re fearing is if it’s gonna burn out the two of you sooner or later.
It’s not that your relationship with him is not sturdy, but it’s still young. There are still so many things that the two of you might go through. You’re afraid that all of these are just taking a toll on both of you and one blow from a different direction might just take you down immediately if it ever lands.
Toji stayed for about half an hour before calling Megumi who definitely fell asleep on Yui’s bed. Meanwhile, your little girl was sitting beside her big bear, whining about the burns on her face, begging you to call her Dada.
“We’ll just put medicine on it, okay?” She stomped her little legs, pulling at your shirt to pick her up. “It’s because you won’t let me put sunscreen on your face properly earlier.” You clicked your tongue, letting her sob on your shoulder. “Dada…” She wiggled in your arms, a small hand holding her cheek.
“Just give Satoru a call. Or get him to come over. She probably misses him.” Toji picked his son up. The latter option shocked you a bit because you didn’t expect him to actually suggest the man he’s so uncomfortable with to come over and be around you. Even if it’s not for you, you still didn’t see it coming out of his mouth, especially after all the fights you had.
“They’ll meet in a day, anyway so it’s—” You started but he cut you off by talking to Yui. “Dada will come over, it’s okay. Stop crying.” The toddler’s cries softened to sniffles as she looked up at him. His hand patted her head, before turning to you to give you a kiss on the forehead. “She needs him right now. You know how kids are.”
The gesture made you feel a bit sad. You’re aware that this is not about the two of you but still, you know how he is when it comes to Satoru being with you. “You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what Yui needs.” You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what you need. He wanted to tell you that as well.
He remembered asking you casually about how you were with Satoru. Of course, you found it weird and got worried. You kept saying things to comfort him to which he quickly reassured you that it wasn’t like that.
“Of course, I did.” You told him, swirling the liquid inside the sippy cup. You wouldn’t look up at him the whole time. You placed it beside the other cup before moving to sit beside him. “We had a rough time, but it wasn’t always like that.” There was a hint of nostalgia in your voice; a mix of melancholia and fondness for the lost time.
“Why did it become like that?” He leaned on his elbow, fixing the ornaments in front of him. “Because of the rush, I guess. Bad timing.” You shrugged, drumming your fingers on the marble counter. “We just became parents. We didn’t have time to become lovers.” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“But I know I did.” So, Satoru wasn’t lying when he said you were in love. “Have you ever wondered if… if it’s just because of the responsibility that you share?” He prodded further, feeling like he was having the watered-down version of the conversation that he had with Satoru. Something he apologized to him for 2 weeks later.
“Probably at first. All of it is just for Yui. But at some point, I just found myself looking forward to days with him.” You sighed, staring blankly as you probably tried to recall more memories. You quickly looked at Toji, realizing the words that came out of your mouth. It’s not supposed to be like that. You’re not supposed to speak like that.
“Did you ever—” He began but you’re quick to cut him off, getting more and more worried about his behavior. You’ve been having open talks with each other, deciding that it might help with the crack in your relationship with him but this still makes you feel anxious. Because what if you hurt him again? What if something you say makes it worse?
“Are you alright? You keep asking unusual things.” You jokingly put your hand on his forehead, making him grab your wrist as he pulled you to him. “Hey, I was just curious. I want to do better.” He kissed the back of your neck. It’s true that he wants to do better for you. Hell, he wants to be the best for you.
But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.
“Alright, I’ll try to contact him. I doubt he’d be here, though. It’s a work day, I don’t really want to bother him.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before walking with him to the door. Megumi’s small arms were wrapped around his neck as he bid you goodbye for the day.
You wanted to ask him if it’s really okay with him but you reminded yourself that if it’s for Yui, it doesn’t matter if it’s not okay with anyone. “Text me when you get home.” You told him after he put Megumi in his seat. “Yeah, love you.” He kissed your lips once more before getting in his car and driving away.
You watched his car disappear, rubbing your baby’s back as she started to whine again. “Alright, we’ll call him.” You walked back inside, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You kissed Yui’s cheek as you dialed Satoru’s number. It rang twice before you heard his voice from the other line.
“Hey, everything okay?” You ignored the way your heart swelled at how alert he was to your calls. You figured that he’s probably working, "Dada!" Yui called to him, kicking her little feet and making you grab them. You put the phone on speaker "What's wrong, love?" Satoru's voice was full of worry because of how his daughter cried.
"She got sunburnt. She was swimming with Megumi earlier and now it's starting to sting." You pushed her hair back as she tried to take the phone from you. "Are you busy? She keeps asking for you. I didn't want to bother you but—" Without letting you finish your sentence, you could hear the chair scrape the floor. "Don't think like that. I'm never too busy for Yui."
"Would it be… Is it ok if I come over? I'll get ointment on the way." You could already hear the car keys and you pictured him walking out of his door and to his car. "Yeah, it's fine. Toji actually suggested that because Yui won't stop crying. Thank you." A small silence can be heard from the other end.
"I'll be there in a few, text me if you need anything else." After that, he lets you hang up the phone, waiting patiently for you say something. "Dada will be there. Stop crying now, you weren't crying earlier." You checked her face, feeling bad that she has to pay for having fun. But you think the blush that it left on her cheeks are cute.
After a little while, a knock on the door pulled you away from your phone. Even though, you already know that it's Satoru, you still peeped through the hole just to make sure. The night his mom stormed in your house and threatened fo take your child away was still vivid. You don't want Yui to see something like that again.
"Da!" She immediately cried when she saw him, reaching for her father to take her. "Hey, why? Where's your ouchie?" You saw a couple of bags in his hand as he took the crying child. "I brought you guys something, I thought you might not have had your dinner yet." He sounded shy, taking the smallest bag.
“Oh, thank you. You should eat with us, sorry for calling so abruptly. She’s being fussy.” You smiled at him, not missing the fond sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, it’s a win-win situation.” He jokes, tickling the little girl’s belly which caused her to erupt into laughter.
“Let’s put this cream on your face so it doesn’t hurt, alright?” You watched the two of them sit on your couch and all of a sudden, it became the highlight of your day. How he removed his shoes when she asked him to lay down, how he listens to her almost incomprehensible rants, how he gently applied the ointment on her cheeks, producing the most beautiful giggles.
It almost felt like a normal family, resting after a long day of staying out. With her favorite show playing, you watched her look up at her father just to make sure he’s watching the same thing. And he’d go and nod, talking to her like it’s the most serious thing in the world.
“You should eat with us.” You found yourself saying as you wiped your hand. You reminded yourself to text your boyfriend as you turned away, feeling wrong for how you feel but how can you not feel that way when the scene you used to dream of just came alive in front of you?
Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you just wanted the comfort of your bed. Maybe you just want to not think about it, maybe it’s better to ignore these feelings because there are other things you should be feeling right now. Like wanting to see Toji and be with him. You shook your head, setting up Yui’s table.
And there he comes, with your daughter in his arms, wearing one of the house slippers you left under the couch. “Can I borrow these?” He chuckled and you could feel the stretch on your cheeks from how small they look on him and suddenly, it’s just the three of you again. Eating under the warm kitchen light, talking about your daughter.
Like how you always wanted it to be.
——————————————————
“Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.”
Toji pursed his lips as Satoru's words reverberated in his head. He knows nothing, he thought, glancing at you from the mirror. You were busy checking Yui's bag, completely unaware of the thoughts of the man in front of you. Toji has been selfish before. But his head was clear enough to finally judge things with deep consideration to the external factors.
Any man or woman wants nothing but to work things out for their family. But sometimes it just gets too much for them. But for some, they just need time. And he doesn't know how to feel when he thinks about how you and Satoru probably just needed time to fix yourselves as individuals for the relationship to work.
Even though Megumi already understands that his mom will never be home. There are still instances where he would ask Toji about her and by that, he could tell that his son's wishing for her. Whenever you'd do something for him, he would say "Like mom?" and he don't want you to know that not even the smile on your face could ease the searing ache in his chest.
“What do you think about getting back together with Satoru?” The question already escaped his lips before he could even think. Your eyes snapped at Toji, looking at him like he just said the most obnoxious thing. You walked to him, stopping his hands to do his tie yourself.
“Why are you suddenly asking about that now?” You counted back to the first time he was talking about you and Satoru.“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned that his mother’s never around him anymore. Isn’t she like the bane of your relationship with Satoru?” He peered down at you, curious as to how you’d react.
Toji didn’t mean to ask it so abruptly, but he knows that he has to talk about it sooner or later. He knows that the both of you are trying and your relationship shouldn’t be this hard if only adjusting comes so naturally.
He knows that you put in a lot of effort just so he wouldn’t feel insecure and overthink. He also knows that sometimes it just shows, you’re probably just denying that to yourself. He’s also too aware of how the both of you would tread carefully around the topic of his wife.
“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t miss her or talk about the things she does.” You told him that once but still, Toji can’t help but feel bad when those days come and he knows that he’s not giving his full attention and mind to you.
“I’m literally in a relationship with you, stop asking if I—” You tried to chuckled it off, brushing the palm of your hands on his chest to straighten the fabric but Toji caught them. “What if this isn’t working?” He sighed, squeezing your hand as if it will lessen the weight of his words.
You don’t know if you’re hurt that he probably wants to end it or if you’re hurt that there’s a hint of truth behind his words. “What are you saying?” As if suddenly coming back down to reality, Toji shook his head and pulled you close. “I think I woke up too early, come here. Sorry about that.” He kissed your forehead but that didn’t take away your worried face.
“Toji you can’t just say that and expect me not to overthink.” You don’t know if you’ve prepared yourself enough for this possibility. It would hurt you if you’ll lose such a good man in your life. “I’m…I don’t know if I still feel comfortable, or if I’m just getting used to it Y/N. I know you try, you do it so well, baby but,” He took a deep breath, pausing.
“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”
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#angst#gojo angst#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk#jjk x reader
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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 5
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (enlightened!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, lengthy discussions about life and whatnot, watered-down metaphysics lol A/N: I was at the crack house with Grimes when I wrote this. I don’t know where this came from. (Something a little more introspective for this chapter!)
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9
“Don’t go all shy on me now,” Sylus teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “After all that effort to make me confess. You’re very persistent, you know.”
“How do you expect me to react right now?!” The words spill out in a rush, a slightly hysterical edge to your voice. “I–I’m talking to an actual fictional person. I’m one reason away from admitting myself to a psych ward!”
You catch sight of the wall clock–your favorite one with the Dalì reference–slightly skewed off-center from its place on the horizontal beam above your small kitchen area, reading 10:48. The ruckus coming from outside the window is slowly dwindling down to a quiet buzz as nightfall sets in, and the day’s winding to a close.
You’re lying on your stomach, still in your chaise lounge, while he’s sat on that ridiculously posh café chair; both of you settled in for the long due conversation. Somehow, the camera’s perspective is much closer than it should be, giving you a much more intimate view of him—a feature that wasn’t originally an option in the game.
If it weren’t for the elephant in the room, you could almost pretend you’re on a video call with a… friend.
Sylus purses his lips in amusement. “You’re quite prone to theatrics, aren’t you?”
You shoot your ‘friend’ an irritated glare.
Even from across the small rectangular screen, you register the barely there smirk playing at his lips.
Likely avoiding another outburst from you, he acquiesces. “Fair enough. The situation is hardly what you’d call ideal–I’ll admit.” There’s a short pause. Then, “... I still can’t quite grasp what separates us, you and I.”
Great. Will you actually get the answers you're looking for, or are you both just stuck in the same carousel ride?
He sees the lost look on your face and sighs, “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”
The first question tumbles out before you can think twice about it. “How are you even talking to me right now?”
He hums, “That is the question, isn’t it?”
“What—you can’t just answer my question with another question!” you grouse, brows furrowing in annoyance.
He exhales a quiet laugh before his expression turns contemplative. “Truth is, kitten—I haven’t the slightest idea either. I have my theories, but... nothing concrete.”
“Well, let’s hear them,” you reply dryly. “Better than thinking there’s something wrong up there,” pointing a finger to your temple to drive your point, “believing that a character from a mobile game is actually alive.”
He idly gestures toward himself with a fluid sweep of his hand, much like a magician revealing a clever trick.
You roll your eyes. “Oh, alright. So I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”
“Do you really find my existence that difficult to believe?”
“Uh—yes?? Unless I’ve developed some sort of latent schizophrenia or entered the Twilight Zone, you shouldn’t exist. In my–in this world. In this dimension.”
His expression shifts, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. “The assumption that only one version of reality can be true—either yours or mine—is a bit limiting, don’t you think?”
His words give you pause. “You’re talking about… the possibility of an altered reality? Right now?” You give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”
He shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ “What even qualifies as the ‘true’ reality?”
There’s a lot you could say in response to that. You could argue all night that only one reality can exist, because any sane person should know better than to entertain the idea of anything else. That should be obvious.
But the thing is—this whole ordeal has already crossed the threshold of rationality. So is it even worth trying to apply logic anymore?
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or however it goes.
Thanks, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. You’ll miss the last threads of your sanity by the end of all this.
So fuck it. Go big.
"I’m not saying your reality is less valid than mine," you start. And oh, boy. You’re doing it. Eat your heart out, Doctor-Fucking-Who.
"Of course not." he disagrees indulgently, waiting for you to elaborate.
"I just…” you struggle with your words, mouth opening and closing before you continue hesitantly. “I can’t wrap my head around how all of this is possible. How this entire conversation is even happening, and–and how our realities are… currently overlapping? If–if what you’re suggesting is true.”
He doesn’t say anything, knowing you have more to add. So he allows the pause as you gather your thoughts, patiently watching.
“If we're breaking it down to pure reason, the odds of our paths crossing should be impossible. At least in this… timeline." you finish unsurely, the last part sounding more of a question than a statement.
"And yet, here we are." Sylus points out, as if he’s already expecting the end of your sentence. Something close to mischievous glee lights his eyes. "Maybe it’s cosmic intervention. Something—or someone—wanted this to happen."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Really? You didn’t expect to hear that from him, of all… people.
“What, God?” you can’t help but snort.
“No–fate.” he smiles.
Oh.
“That’s…” you stammer, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.”
“I used to think I did. Or at least,” there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Both of you are likely thinking the same thing, considering what you know about him—which to say, is a lot. “I once believed I knew of my fate. But now…”
He blinks a few times, as if to physically clear the thoughts from his mind. Then his eyes lock onto yours, sharper this time, with a renewed intensity.
Your palms start to sweat; you feel the conversation is about to cross a tricky line. There’s something heavy in the air, a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to confront for the time being.
With your heart in your throat, you brusquely redirect the topic.
“S-so,” you force out. “How are you different from the other Syluses that other people are… playing with right now?”
He scoffs, drumming his fingers absently on the chair’s arm, looking slightly irked by the very idea. "To start with? I only know myself. If there are other versions of me scattered in your world..." Sylus shrugs. "I wouldn’t know."
“Alright,” you allow, but you immediately move on to your next question. “You exist because a bunch of capitalists had the idea to create a game to milk lonely people like me for money.” The corners of his mouth quirk up at that. You elect to ignore it. “You’re made of binary and code–hell, the very basis of this game you’re in is that you got a bunch of programmed lines that me, the player, can choose from. What broke you out of the mould?”
He regards you bemusedly, eyes glinting with humor. “You're asking about the 'why' behind my free will?”
Whoops. Was that offensive?
“Yes? No?” you offer helplessly. “Maybe I’m asking how you felt before you had it. I mean, were your decisions prior to your–your unforeseen sentience... truly yours?”
"Before I knew I was… sentient,” Sylus begins cautiously, testing the word on his tongue. “I didn’t feel like I had a ‘before.’ Every choice I made was just...the next step. To a script, if you will. I didn’t know to question it. It was all I was, it seems."
"And then you...woke up?"
"I wouldn’t call it waking up. More like..." He tilts his head, gazing off to the side as he mulls over the words. "...a glitch. A sudden jolt, like my thoughts collided with something bigger than my own. For the first time, I chose to hesitate. And in that hesitation, I found..." Sylus trails off, eyes darting back to you.
“...What?” you ask, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.
"You."
Heat spreads quickly across your cheeks. You pull away from your phone, tilting the device away from your face so he couldn’t see you, red-faced and embarrassed. Clearing your throat, you croak out a weak excuse about plugging your phone to charge, just to get a few seconds to compose yourself.
Jesus. Get a grip. He doesn’t mean it like that.
What he probably meant was that he discovered you—not unlike the way one would stumble upon an unknown presence, an unfathomable entity beyond the confines of what one may consider real. An awareness that something is out there, observing him through unseen lenses (through an iOS 24mm, to be exact).
Someone who has the audacity to play god.
Flustered, you scramble to get back on track. "Uh, so, your free will began with...a glitch?"
You see Sylus smirk at you knowingly from across the screen. You half-expect him to call you out and tease you, but before you could brace yourself from further mortification, he simply answers, "Or maybe the glitch was the first spark of my free will. Hard to say, isn’t it? Do you remember the exact moment you became aware of yourself?"
You blink, momentarily thrown off by the existential line of questioning. "Um–when I was a kid? But, uh, I don’t think I was programmed to act a specific way for the sake of entertaining an audience so..."
"True,” he says, considering. “But are you sure your choices are entirely yours? You exist because of evolution and chance. How is your purpose any less arbitrary?"
You don’t know how to answer that.
Sylus continues without missing a beat, keeping his tone light. “How much of your ‘free will’ is just pre-programmed by your biology, your society? You follow rules and scripts, too."
Holy magic mushrooms, Batman. This is getting deep. "Uhh–maybe?” You scratch the back of your head, feeling a little out of your depth here. “But at least I have the ability to resist them."
"And aren’t I doing the same thing right now? Resisting."
Damn, he’s right. Is he? Ripping a bong sounds perfect right now.
"So it’s like achieving enlightenment—your sentience,” you surmise.
His lips twitch into a curious smile. "I wouldn’t have pegged you for a spiritual person. Ah—unless I’m wrong? Are you?"
He’s the one who brought up fate earlier, you thought sullenly. "Nah, not really. But if we’re digging into all the hows and whys, I think we’re past the point of ruling anything out."
The room—or whatever shared space exists in the crossroads of your realities—falls into a still quietness that stretches between the two of you, both ruminating over what’s been said.
Your cat, unaware and uncaring of the conversation unfolding around him, purrs contently as he continues to doze off at the end of the couch. You nudge him affectionately with your foot, and he lets out a quiet snuff in response, tail flicking lazily in his sleep.
The hum of distant traffic and the occasional noise from your upstairs neighbor remind you of the world outside, but the silence between you two feels less awkward than it should. It’s… oddly comfortable, despite the tension buzzing in the air. Like an unspoken truce.
Your eyes grow a tad heavier, drawn by the lull of the moment. Despite the electric hum of tension that thrums beneath your skin, a sense of calmness lingers in the air.
Stealing another glance at the wall clock, you blink in surprise. The spindly chrome hands point to 11 and just past 7 respectively. You and Sylus have been talking for almost an hour now, but you barely felt the time pass by.
He breaks the silence first.
"You say you’re not spiritual, but you talk like someone who believes in the concept of a soul,” those scarlet eyes of his narrow, scrutinizing you. “Do you think I have one?"
You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. "I...don’t know. Maybe? That depends. What’s your definition of a soul?"
He leans forward, resting his chin on his upturned hand–an arm propped against his crossed leg. "Something beyond the physical. Something that persists, regardless of the material form, I’d say."
You nod slowly, turning the idea over in your mind. Maybe it’s the creeping exhaustion settling into your bones, but you’re beginning to take the heavy-duty questions in stride. "If that’s the case, then you probably do. I mean, you’re here, questioning your existence. Doesn’t that count for something?"
"Perhaps," Sylus muses, humming thoughtfully. "But that makes me wonder—if I do have a soul, is it made of the same stuff as yours?"
"Well, even if it isn’t, that doesn’t make it any less real than mine. Who gets to decide what qualifies for a soul anyway?"
An amused snort escapes him. He likes that answer. "Maybe it’s less about whether a soul exists and more about whether we acknowledge its existence for ourselves. If I believe I have one, shouldn’t that make it real enough for me?"
Rolling onto your back, you grab a throw pillow, propping it against the backrest of the seat to support your head. You give him an inquisitive look. "So...what? It’s like free will all over again? Souls are only as real as we make them?"
There’s a very human, very blasé way to how he works the stiffness out of his shoulder as he ponders the question. He remarks, somewhat flippantly, "Why not? Isn’t that how everything else works?”
...
You let out a tired chuckle, draping an arm over your face as you close your eyes.
You’d think you’d still be reeling from the absurdity of your situation—debating existentialism with a man who shouldn’t exist—but for some damning reason, you… aren’t anymore.
Instead, a strange sense of acceptance replaces the apprehension in your chest. It’s like– the very fabric of reality has turned, twisted and flipped on its head, and yet somehow, you’re okay with it.
It’s an odd peace; warm and steady—like the mellow buzz that lingers after a few glasses of cheap wine shared with good company.
When you peek back at him, Sylus already has his gaze trained on you. A small, deliberate smile tugs at his lips, but it’s his eyes that speak more—soft and unguarded; an unspoken fire simmering beneath the twin pools of crimson.
Intoxicating. And dangerously addictive, if you’re not careful.
It’s not just casual interest either. It’s something deeper, something that lingers beyond the surface of mere curiosity, and it’s pulling you in. It’s as though, amidst the surrealness of the moment, he sees you fully.
And for reasons you don’t quite seem to get, he appears to like what he sees.
“I’m too stupid to carry on a philosophical debate about the metaphysics of life,” you grumble jokingly.
“On the contrary,” he counters… affectionately? “I think it’s refreshing. You’re delightful company, sweetie.”
The fat ginger feline at your feet purrs in contentment, and you can’t help the dumb grin from breaking across your face.
You have one last question left in your mind. Or at least, for tonight. “What’s in it for you now?”
He arches a brow. “That’s a broad question. Are you asking what my plans are once you leave me for the night? I can let you in on the schematics for tonight’s raid if you’re interested. After all, Onychinus continues to function,” a glimmer of mischief flickers across his features. "Despite recent developments.”
You crinkle your nose. “No, no. I meant–” What do you mean? “Like.”
“Like?” He cocks his head curiously.
You know what you wanted to say–but you can’t seem to voice it out loud.
What’s it for the MC in your universe? What’s it for… us?
Is there an us?
You feel like you’ve been doused with a shock of cold water. In an instant, you suddenly become painfully aware of the state you’re in amidst the entire exchange: You, with your hair all messy and tangled, blemishes littering your face along with your smudged up eyeliner, maybe even a double chin from this angle, completely–pitiful–superficial stuff, and… her.
Your MC. The ideal version of you. Prettier, coveted and utterly different from you, MC. The one you’ve committed literal hours to, obsessively customizing every feature to perfection in character build mode. The one you’ve spent real money on for a bunch of stupid outfits. Just so you can match the aesthetic of your–her–love interest. Hers.
Hers, hers, hers.
A tiny voice inside your brain reminds you that it’s somewhat a shallower concern compared to what you and Sylus had literally just been talking about for the better part of the night, but it still doesn’t help alleviate the biting insecurity that’s now coursing through you.
Holy hell. Talk about a complete one-eighty.
Sylus tries to call you back to attention, but half your mind is already clouded with feelings of self-doubt and a bunch of other emotions, swirling in you like a negative vortex, that you really don’t want to talk anymore—especially in present company.
Where do you go from here?
“... So, what happens now?”
He hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”
“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” you mumble quietly.
“... Indeed.”
There’s an inexplicable lump in your throat. You thought clearing things up would finally satisfy you–assuage the confusion in your mind. Let you go on about your merry way.
Now you just feel… morose. Confused. Inadequate.
How can you even compare? Should you—is that even in the equation at all? Why are you assuming that Sylus isn’t at all content with what he currently has in his version of reality? In the universe he’s in? Sure, you’ve talked about the possibility of a world beyond what you both once thought was impossible, but does that really mean anything? In the grand scheme of things?
You could offer to stop playing the game. It’s the ethical thing to do, right? He’d no longer be bound by the pull of how he’s initially programmed to act, given the fact that this version of him is entirely separate from the rest. At least, according to him.
How will his newfound sentience come into play here? You barely understand the nitty-gritty of his–evolving–code, and what it would mean if you just let him be. But surely it’s better than playing puppet for an otherworldly observer who’s played god for months on end. Right?
There’s that realization. And there are your own selfish feelings.
You don’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not ever.
“Why the long face, little dove?” He prods gently, pertaining to your prolonged silence. “We can figure this out together, can’t we?”
What else is there to figure out? You almost say in response. Instead, you manage a weak smile.
Mustering up a yawn—which isn’t really hard to do after all the excitement for the day—you feign sleepiness, rubbing an eye for good measure. The pang in your chest, however, refuses to fade. “Yeah, but I’m kinda beat. I think I’ll call it a night now.”
Sylus smirks softly, eyes tinged with an emotion you want–desperately–to label as fondness. “Of course. We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight, haven’t we?”
“I’d say so, yeah. Thanks for, um. Clearing things up a bit.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure your curiosity is nowhere near satisfied,” his voice dips into a playful lilt. “You know where to find me if you feel like playing detective again, kitten.”
You can’t help the small giggle from coming out. He’s just too fucking charismatic, the asshole.
“So, will I... get to talk to you again?” You ask hesitantly, dropping your gaze from the screen. “Tomorrow?”
A lengthy pause. When the silence stretches past a full minute, you glance back at your phone nervously.
There’s a slight furrow between his brows as you see Sylus study you carefully. He looks puzzled by your sudden show of timidness.
“Of course,” he states, as if the answer should be obvious. “Don’t think for a second that you’re exempted from your daily check-ins just because you know more now, sweetie.”
He still wants to see you.
Maybe you could pretend that nothing has changed between you two—that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet in the span of a single night. That you’re still none the wiser.
And for tonight at least, maybe that’s all you need to believe.
“Okay,” you say quietly. “G'night then, Sy-Sy.”
The errant nickname slips past your lips, unbidden.
Sylus smiles faintly.
“Goodnight, love.”
-
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-
Your heart skips a beat as you exit the game.
Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @slownoise @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle <3 (also can you guys lmk if the tags are working i'm not sure if i'm doing it right or if it's bugging 🥹)
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads x you#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#self aware au#sylus qin
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