#you only ever see people on days they can leave the house
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noctiva · 3 days ago
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Yandere Toby hc-🪽
angel anon I see all ur asks in my inbox… what are we hehe *twirls hair*
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Yandere!Toby Headcannons
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CW!! Stalking, obsessive behaviour, mentions of death + murder, 18+ content, sexual content
slight NSFW under the cut! minors do not interact!
Yandere!Toby thinks he’s doing it all for your sake
Because he knows what’s best for you, and what’s best for you is him.
He knows how to treat you better than anyone else. Knows all of your favourite shows, foods, hobbies, and places to go (maybe only because he sneaks around your house when you think you’re alone, peeking through the windows to gaze at your beauty)
Yandere!Toby leaves you gifts and love notes. Pretty rocks he thinks you’d like, animal bones he cleaned just for you, pretty jewelry and hair clips he stole from his victims. All slipped into your mailbox, or left on your porch wrapped in a ribbon.
Yandere!Toby won’t hesitate to kill, but he’ll do it discreetly - leaving you wondering why all of your love interests just keep disappearing.
Yandere!Toby has snuck into your house once or twice (or three, four, five times) to steal little items from you that he’s sure you won’t miss.
Besides your favourite sweater - he took that too. Stuffing it with a pillow so he can fall asleep cuddled up against your scent, dreaming that one day he’ll have his arms wrapped around your body instead.
(And you don’t want it back, because more often than not he ends up hopelessly rutting against it - the smell of your perfume getting him harder than he’s ever been)
Yandere!Toby is patient at first. Hopeful that you’ll realize the truth eventually (the truth being, that you’ll be happiest with him).
But that patience doesn’t last long, because why don’t you get it? Why are you wasting time with all of these idiots when he’s right here? Showering you with love and appreciation you could never find elsewhere?
Though, he’d never really blame you. You were perfect. The fault was laid on every one else. For distracting you, leading you astray. Keeping you from him, and tainting your mind.
Yandere!Toby keeps trophies from all of the people he’s killed to gain your affection. His favourite being the jar of teeth that rests on his nightstand.
Yandere!Toby has your name carved into the handle of his hatchet. Because he’s doing this all for you. Not caring how bloody he has to get if it means the end goal is your lips on his.
Yandere!Toby likes to watch you sleep.
Likes to see you so peaceful. That’s when you’re the most beautiful, in his opinion. All blissful and unaware.
He could do anything to you. Anything.
But he’d wait. Because if he wanted a limp doll he’d just go back to humping your sweater. He wanted to hear you cry out his name, feel your nails drag down his back.
So the worst he’d do while you were sleeping was snip off a lock of your hair. From the back, so you wouldn’t notice it as quick.
He keeps it in a locket around his neck.
(But he often takes it out to sniff it.)
Yandere!Toby stole a Polaroid camera just to document you.
And when he prints the pictures out, he sticks them right on the wall next to his bed.
Pictures of you sleeping, at work, laughing with friends.
The pictures of you undressing, he keeps in his nightstand. Along with a pair of panties he snagged from your drawer.
He would return them, so that you could wash them and reinvigorate the scent of your laundry soap - but he’s sure that the new stains would catch your attention.
Yandere!Toby knows it’ll only take time. Because one day, you’ll have no choice but to love him - because there’ll be no one else left.
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this is my first time doin a list of headcannons so I hope it’s alright 🙏🙏
thank you for the request!
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hvnsinureyes · 2 days ago
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𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇. . . | luka dončić
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summary | you’re trying to adjust to your new life in la, bottling up your feelings despite the hurt you feel. too bad luka won’t let you.
warnings | none! just an angst to fluff fic <3
author’s note | this is basically my own way of coping. luka please we miss you 💔
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the past few days haven’t felt real.
one day, you were celebrating after purchasing your new home with your husband. next thing you know, you’re on a one way flight to los angeles, hand and hand with luka. deep down, as the camera lights flashed from the paparazzi, you hoped that maybe, adam silver would pop out of nowhere with a whole camera crew, yelling out “it’s a prank!”
maybe your plane ticket would magically turn into a roundtrip back to dallas, where all your friends, family, job– your life was. yet two weeks later and still nothing. you feel horrible thinking it, knowing that he’s going through so much more, but it’s not fair. the way he found out, the way you watched him hold in everything for hours until he broke down in front of you, leaving without a proper goodbye, and the fake, soulless smiles for the camera.
give it time, they say, you’ll get used to it– yet everything you do, you say, those rare moments of silence where you’re alone with your rushing thoughts, you think of dallas. you think of home and how it was ripped away from you in seconds. you never thought this would ever happen to him, but here you are.
it's a party hosted by the laker’s organization. they wanted to “welcome him to LA!” the “right way”, with a bunch of shareholders and names of people you can’t bother to remember. the whole team is present as well, also some wives and girlfriends. you’re sitting alone with your glass of…something, when a voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“you okay?”
not just any voice, but his voice. the only one that matters. luka doesn’t hesitate to sit next to you, grabbing your hand and tracing circles on your skin. you know what this is, he’s trying to comfort you. a pang of sadness hits you, making you realize your selfishness. this is the last thing he should be worried about. this isn’t about you, you think. you signed up for this.
“i’m fine,” you smile, tightly, trying to convince him (and yourself). it’s obvious it doesn’t work, because luka just sighs and deadpans. “be serious.”
“i am!” he scoffs at your protest, rolling his eyes. “i’m your husband, you know. you’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”
you don’t say anything back because he’s right. painfully right. but still, you put back on your smile and reassure him once again.
because that’s what a “good and supportive” wife does. smile through it all.
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it doesn’t feel suffocating in your new house anymore– just unfamiliar. like every hallway and room isn’t really yours.
sitting down on your shared bed, you take each heel off, finally feeling something throughout your body. exhaustion. but that’s better than feeling nothing at all. when’s the last time you felt actually at peace? you can’t remember, and don’t bother to. it’ll cause more problems. you can see luka enter from the corner of your eye, a determined look on his face.
you can already feel what’s coming next.
“you haven’t gotten away with this.” he sits next to you with a soft ‘thud’, “really, talk to me, baby.” you smirk, looking up at him. “was there something to get away with in the first place?” obviously, luka isn’t amused at all, seeing past your act. he stares you down with a serious look, expecting the truth. but you don’t know if you have the strength to tell him.
“i…” you trail off, thinking to yourself. “i just need time to process things. i’ll be fine.”
“but you don’t have to be fine.” you frown, looking at him confused. what? he continues,
“i don’t expect you to immediately get used to everything.” he says, softly, “that wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“but this whole situation hasn’t been fair to you, luka. this isn’t about me–”
“that’s exactly what i mean. yes, this has been the craziest past few weeks for me and you. it’s about us. you can’t–” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to find the words to say. “you can’t act like this isn’t hurting you. i see you, all the time, lost in thought. i know what you’re thinking about and i feel the same way. but you’re taking this on by yourself and you shouldn’t have to.”
you don’t say anything, simply listening to him. even after his rant, he doesn’t press you for answers. you’ll come around eventually, and when you do, he’ll be there.
“i’m here, for you. i made a promise to be by your side forever and i’m going to keep it.”
you don’t even notice you’re crying until luka wipes away your tears with his thumb, holding your jaw as if you’re the most precious thing he owns. with a smile, his eyes shine with pure adoration, reminding you that you are loved and seen. it’s this moment where you realize that you truly aren’t alone in this.
not even if you wanted to be.
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aliypop · 2 days ago
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Fever
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Word count: 2.949
Prompt: It's 1967, and things are getting a bit heated when the pair realizes that they need a break from being parents and stars and instead need to be a couple again.
Warning: SMUT
Pairing: POC OC x Elvis
Note: I wanted to give yall smut again, so here you go!
Taglist:
@darkmoviesquotespizza
@sissylittlefeather
@richardslady121
@thegettingbyp2
@presleyenterprise
@dkayfixates
@rjmartin11
@thetaoofzoe
@your-nanas-house
@zayurir
@60svintage
@sillybookmarks
@leapresley
@everythingelvispresley
@dreamondina94
@elvismylove04
@pocketfulofpresley
@elvispresley1956
@poeandmoonknightgirl
@eapep
California - 1967
As the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on their California mansion, a gift from Cecelia's mother in 1962. The couple felt the warmth of the day. However, the pressures of filming and parenting their six-year-old twins had begun to take a toll on them. In the whirlwind of their busy lives, they found themselves slowly forgetting the people they once were. As Cecelia sat by her vanity she could hear Elvis's footsteps heavy from a day's work on set.
"Don't you even start..." she interjected, her voice sharp and resolute, cutting through the tension in the air as she met Elvis's gaze. He was looking at her with a deep scowl, the lines of frustration etched across his forehead, his eyes dark and stormy like a brewing tempest.
"Aw hell, you too, huh?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. She rolled her eyes, a gesture that had grown all too familiar between them. It felt like their conversations had devolved into a series of arguments, each more futile than the last. The warmth and laughter that once characterized their exchanges had been replaced by a palpable tension, leaving them both weary of the conflict that seemed to define their relationship now.
"What's wrong this time?" She asked as knowing it'd be the same old same old. He'd complain about how he'd hate working on the movies she'd tell him to get another manager and he'd tell her,
"The Colonel is the best thing that ever happened to me, and deep down, you know it!" He exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of passion and frustration. "He's the one who believes in my talent, pushing me to new heights and reminding me of what I can achieve."
Cecelia shook her head in disbelief. "No, he's not! You haven’t even made a decent movie since 'King Creole.' That was ages ago! You deserve better than his empty promises." The tension between them hung in the air, filled with unspoken doubts and hopes for the future.
Elvis arched an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief etched across his face. "And you've managed to create good movies?" he scoffed, the weight of his skepticism palpable in the air. With a flash of pride, he added, "I’ve won more Oscars than you ever will!" Cecelia's voice carried a mixture of challenge and bravado, as she stood firm in her cinematic stature.
But this wasn't the only thing wearing them down, not the movies or the fame, but the strife of parenting, two pairs of feet were heard standing at the door, "Mama is dinner ready yet?" Jesse asked as Cecelia stood up,
"We'll finish this later...." Elvis said,
"No we will not..." Cecelia glanced at her husband,
Dinner had been served and the kids were arguing about who had eaten the last roll, Cecelia was fed up it seemed everytime she went to California was an argument, almost like it was a curse to be there.
"YOU STOLE IT OFF MY PLATE!"
"DID NOT!"
"DID TOO!"
"DID NOT!"
Their back and forth kept going as Elvis turned to see the blood rising in Cecelia's brown cheeks, he knew that look and he knew it too well from being on the business side of that look.
"kids-"
"LISTEN HERE! I DON'T CARE WHICH ONE OF YOU STOLE IT!" she shouted, her voice echoing around the silent room like thunder. The tension hung heavy in the air as she glared at the members of the table, a mix of guilt and defiance shining in their eyes. With an exasperated sigh, Cecelia turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing on the wooden stairs as she stormed off upstairs, leaving the quiet aftermath of her frustration behind.
"Daddy is mama okay..." Elaine asked,
"You heard her give your brother his roll back."
There were silent sobs as Elvis approached their shared bedroom, he was so stressed out lately he hadn't even been paying attention to Cecelia's own problems.
"Doll you okay?"
"Come to yell at me..."
"Nah..." He said sitting on the bed as she positioned herself in his lap a blush creeping on her face,
"Careful darlin' you're gonna wake somebody up down there." He joked as she looked up at him,
"Do you still love me..."
"What..."
"Do you still love me?" she asked again, her voice trembling slightly as she looked into his eyes. Elvis paused, taken aback by her question. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, filling the space between them with uncertainty. He could see the vulnerability etched on her face, a mix of hope and fear, as memories of their shared moments flooded his mind. Would he find the right words to bridge the silence that had grown between them? The tension was palpable, and he knew that this moment would change everything.
" Why in the hell would you ask that?"
"Well, I was playing bridge the other day with Lucille Ball, and Marylin and Debbie ... And Lucille was tellin' me that at a certain point in a womans life her husband starts to find her unattractive and especially when there's kids involved and we're 32, all we've been doing is arguing you haven't touched me in months so... If there's someone else I-" Elvis leaned over as he kissed her to life on her luscious lips, Cecelia kissed back as she held onto him,
"First off, I love you... Second off stop playing Bridge with them... they ain't gonna do nothin' but fill your head with doubt, " He said as he held his wife close,
"Now you go pack..."
"Pack for what..." She looked up at him,
"A surprise."
"But the kids..."
"Your mama's on the way..."
"What was she doing in California?"
They both got silent,
"Please not another affair with-"
"Oh~ Frankie!" A moan was heard from outside from their next door neighbors house, Cecelia ran to the balcony her mouth a gape, "That could be us if you start packin'" He whispered in her ear.
Palm Springs
Cecelia and Elvis drove down in their 1967 Cadillac Coupe de Ville which was a wedding anniversary gift from Cecelia to him. Her head was resting on his shoulder as he continued to drive, their conversations had been a bit short, but their love was still there,
"So where are we going?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Palm Springs,” he replied, a playful smile spreading across his face.
“For what?” she inquired, leaning forward in anticipation.
“A surprise, honey,” he said, chuckling softly at her eagerness to unravel the mystery.
“It ain't another horse, is it?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she recalled his last impulsive gift.
“No… but I promise you’ll love it. Just close your eyes,” he said, his excitement palpable as he took her hand, leading her towards the unknown destination. Cecelia did as she was asked as Elvis kept driving, suddenly she felt the car come to a hault.
"Open your eyes dear."
"Elvis...It's...Did you buy this for me..." She looked at him,
"Well, Leased it.. but that ain't the point." He smirked taking the keys from out his pocket, unlocking the door, he took Cecelia by the hand. As the two walked in there was a curving conversation pit, pictures of them scattered around the place.
"For you my love," handing her a champagne flute glass of lemonade,
"Oh Elvis..." She blushed, pulling her close to his person as she looked deep into his blue eyes, "Why don't you go upstairs get relaxed in the tub."
"You sure?"
"It's got jets in it." Elvis mentioned,
"Will you be joining me Mr. Presley..."
"If you'd like me too Mrs. Presley." He smirked,
Walking into the bathroom there were pink rose petals scattered on the floor as she smelled the faint scent of Lavender bubble bath in the tub, she loved how Elvis knew her so well, stepping inside she could feel her stress peel right away as her eyes were half lidded, "How long are we stayin' for?" She asked, hearing Elvis in the bedroom ruffling around.
"Tonight if you'd like..."
"What about a weekend..." Her eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the warmth of his hands gently massaging her shoulders. A shiver danced across her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake as she bit her lip, savoring the moment. With a soft whisper, he leaned close, his breath a tantalizing whisper against her ear, "I can do a weekend." The sound of his voice sent a thrill through her, drawing a soft mewl of anticipation from her lips.
"Right there please..."
"That's a big knot there." His hands working out the kinks in her neck his hand lightly wrapping around as she gasped,
"Elvis what are you-"
"This is all about you doll." He said, "Just open those eyes for me." Cecelia looked at herself in the mirror, he hadn't even done anything except for a simple massage and she was already turning into a wreck.
"That's it darlin'" His hands caressing her arms as her head fell onto his shoulder,
"Mmm.."
"Do you like when I touch right here, baby?" He asked as Cecelia nodded, "Words..."
"Yes..." Her breath whispy and light, as his hands groped her breasts, his fingers slowly massaging her nipples, which were even more sensitive after the birth of their twins,
"Baby~ Baby..." She moaned out, almost like a sirens song,
"See you in the bedroom." He chuckled, as Cecelia was playfully upset,
"You just blue boobed me!"
As he stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, the air was filled with a soft, sultry warmth. Cecelia stood leaning against the door frame, her figure gracefully framed in delicate white lingerie that accentuated her curves. The fabric clung to her like a second skin, the thin straps slipping languidly off her shoulders, creating an alluring contrast against her sun-kissed skin.
Elvis had been engrossed in a book, the words blurring into the background as his gaze shifted from the pages to the enchanting sight before him. A slow, appreciative smile crept across his face. "Well hot damn..." he murmured, momentarily forgetting the plot he had been absorbed in. His eyes wandered, drinking in the sight of her graceful legs that seemed to go on for miles, leading his gaze upward to the gentle swell of her breasts, which nearly spilled over the delicate fabric.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp accentuated her features, casting a warm halo around her form. In that moment, the world outside vanished, and all that mattered was the intoxicating beauty of his wife, poised and captivating, capturing his full attention.
"Do you like what you see?"
"Love it." He whispered, "How was your bath?"
"Relaxing, but I did try to finish myself and..."
"And..."
"I realized there was no need for me to waste time trying to sort it out on my own when my husband was right here, ready and more than capable of fixing the problem. I appreciate how dependable he is, always eager to lend a hand whenever I encounter a challenge." She said in a whisper slowly straddling him, leaving kisses from his collar bone down to his abdomen, Elvis's breath was growing short, he was being teased by his tantalizing wife,
"S-Sounds handy..."
"More ways then one." She said, her hands sliding down right to the peak of his V- line leading right towards his cock, the size of a coca-cola but left her more refreshed than any soda she'd ever had. Giving him a few pumps with her hand, she could feel him hardening around her palm,
"Cece, f-fuck..."
"I haven't even started..." She laughed, her hands peeling away the fabric of his pajama pants, "Baby...You're making me ache already..." Elvis groaned hearing his wife's laughter, "Good... Aw little Elvis is practically twitchin' for me... though I don't see why you've named him that... there's nothing little about him..." Cecelia joked as Elvis was redder than a freshly steamed lobster,
"Cece please don't tease damnit..." He said, fighting the urge to push her head down on him already,
"Should've thought of that when you blue boobed me..."
"Sonofabitch..." He mumbled,
"Use your words darlin..." Her hands still pumping him, "Tell mama what you need..." Her breasts against his chest as Elvis grabbed her face, gently, "Even during love makin' you put my needs before your own..." He said, "admirable... but tonights about you." he said flipping her over, "Damn you and your karate..." She chuckled as he peppered her face with kisses, "You love it... Now..." He kissed her neck, "Let me..." Kissing her stomach, "Take care..." His lips on her thighs, "Of you..." His fingers now inside her wet cavern, the sound of her arousal oozing around his fingers only made him grow more primial, "Oh..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she gripped the bed, she'd cum easily off his fingers alone, and Elvis knew this, but right now he wanted to savor the taste relish in her temple on his knees while his tonuge licked praises of her love, pulling her closer by her thighs he could feel her shivering for him, just by how her thighs were squeezing his head, but he didn't mind as his tongue keep moving between her soaked lips, he only had one thing in mind her pleasure.
"You like that princess?"
"Mhmm~ Keep going plea-" Elvis had his mouth wrapped around her clit her budding nerves as her toes curled her hands running through his hair as she sang praises of his name
"Elvis! M...More!"
"Elvis don't stop!"
"Elvis please AH!"
Kissing back up her body, his lips landed on her nipples suckling and biting them as her eyes went wide,
"You haven't done this since the-"
"Let's not focus on them tonight..." He said pinning her hands down with his left hand, his right hand painfully teasing Cecelia with his cock. "Put it in already please!" She demanded as he laughed,
"Someones needy tonight."
"Very..." Her face turned a little from the pressure as he kissed her face,
"You okay down there?"
"It's been awhile."
"It has hasn't it..." He said as he moved slowly into her, "If it feels painful at anytime you let me know okay. Don't wanna pop a cysts or somethin'"He joked as she rolled her eyes,
"Only you can make that sound romantic." She smiled as he shrugged, "I've been readin' up on those things." He said as she blushed, "Of course you have... You can go faster now please." Elvis nodded,
"Okay but if anything hurts don't go throwin shit at me."
"Elvis will you thrust alrea-Oh! Yes like that!!" She moaned holding onto him as if she'd lose him,
"Goddamn baby you feel so good." He moaned in her ear as she wrapped her legs around his waist giving him a deeper angle to thrust up into,
"Oh! Baby yes...yes..yes... FUCK ME!" Cecelia moaned, holding up her legs Elvis was going at a pace she'd never seen before but she liked it, teasing her with sliding all the way in then going back out he could feel her legs shaking as she was holding onto him,
"You okay down there?" He called out, his voice filled with warmth and concern. Her expression radiated pure bliss, a soft smile lighting up her face as she took in the serene surroundings. The moonlight danced playfully through the windows, casting dappled shadows around them. Her eyes sparkled with joy as he leaned slightly closer, waiting for a response. “Mhmm!” came the cheerful reply, muffled but unmistakably happy, as if the moment itself wrapped them in a comforting embrace.
"Mind if I try..." She asked as Elvis knew what she meant, pulling out, Elvis was lying on his back as she was inserting him right back inside herself, she was mounted ontop of him like a queen on her throne. Her hands were in his as he looked up at her,
"I love you.."
"I love you more..." She began grinding down on him, her hips swaying in a circle,
"I love you ugh! Morer..." Elvis said as Cecelia kept riding him,
"I love you ah~ Morerer!" Her head thrown back as he matched her rhythm. With every bounce the two became closer to reaching their peak, "Baby go fa-faster please!"Elvis said holding onto her hips bouncing her faster,
"I'm trying to," She moaned,
"Whats stopping you."
"My knees! We're 32 damnnit!" She laughed as he did too, their love was something seen in the movies, but it was theirs and it was enough for them even when they faced rough patches. Bending backwards Cecelia grabbed onto his legs as she rolled her body, his movements becoming jerky and sloppy,
"Fuck! Cece Ugh! Fuck!" She felt him spilling down her leg as she blushed,
"Did you finish..."
"Yeah, but you didn't" He flipped her back over drilling into her as she closed her eyes from the pleasure,
"Elvis! Fu...Fu...Fu...FUCK ME OH YES RIGHT THERE OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH OH OH OH!"
Cecelia looked up at Elvis a dazed look on her face as Elvis kissed her cheeks, grabbing a warm damp towel he cleaned her up then himself. Pulling her close to him he kissed up her arm then her neck as she tickled her "Teddy Bear!" She giggled
"Hmm baby..."
"Want some cheesecake..." Elvis's ears perked up,
"I could go for another round." He winked as Cecelia hit him, "Not that cheesecake... The cake... "
"Oh..."
"Though another round don't sound too bad..." She mumbled,
"Just say when..."
"When..." Cecelia kissed him,
"Best Anniversary ever..."
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acatandamouse · 1 year ago
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If you're lucky, you can plan ahead and say "well, I climbed on a roof and cut down a bunch of tree limbs today, so I will be absolute shit for doing anything for 3 days" and only be slightly wrong, it's seven days, but at least there isn't a tree trying to force its way in the upstairs window and we'll all survive the night.
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justatypicalwizard · 5 months ago
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Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut
It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.
This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.
Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.
The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.
It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.
So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?
I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.
I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.
I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.
I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.
I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.
I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.
“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”
You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.
“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.
“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”
With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.
“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”
He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.
A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.
You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.
Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.
“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.
“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.
There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.
You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.
“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”
“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.
“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.
“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.
You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”
“And you told me I can eat your ass.”
“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.
He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.
“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.
It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.
Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-
No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.
So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.
Tell me to stop and I will.
And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.
“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.
His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.
“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.
“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.
It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.
Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.
At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.
He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.
“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.
The sound of the faucet reached your ears.
“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.
The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.
You felt a hard push to the back of your head.
“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”
Eh?!
Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?
Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?
The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.
An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.
Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.
“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.
It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.
“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.
Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.
Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.
He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.
The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.
Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.
“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.
“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.
When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.
“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.
“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.
Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.
The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.
You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.
Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.
“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.
“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”
Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.
“Just tell me to stop.”
Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.
“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.
It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.
“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.
“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.
You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.
“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”
“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”
Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.
“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.
“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.
“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!
“Of course, anything for you.”
That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.
You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.
“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”
But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.
After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.
“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.
“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.
At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.
“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.
“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.
“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.
“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 5 months ago
Text
Shameless
Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy
Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.
An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.
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Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.
Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.
Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.
Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"
That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.
Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.
*** *** ***
Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.
Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.
It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.
"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.
"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.
Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.
"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.
Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.
You still spent that shit though.
*** *** ***
Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.
He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.
You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.
A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.
Oh.
Oh.
The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.
So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.
He called your number. He had to make things right.
"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.
"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"
"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.
"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.
"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.
"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.
"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"
"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.
"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".
234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.
The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.
*** *** ***
It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.
You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.
Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.
A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.
Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.
"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.
"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.
"You're home early." You stated the obvious.
Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.
"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.
"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.
"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."
Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.
While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.
You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.
*** *** ***
"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.
Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.
His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.
He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.
After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.
He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.
He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.
Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.
Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.
"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.
"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.
"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.
You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.
"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."
Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?
It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.
"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.
He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.
He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.
You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.
"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.
"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.
"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.
"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.
"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.
He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.
There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.
"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.
*** *** ***
"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."
"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.
"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."
"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.
"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.
*** *** ***
That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.
"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.
Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.
Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.
Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.
"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.
"Mama." He said, pointing at you.
"No-"
"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.
"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.
"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.
After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.
"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.
"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.
"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.
"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.
You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."
"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."
The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.
Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.
"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.
Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby
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princessbellecerise · 9 months ago
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Happily Ever After
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you
warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights
this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
Jacaerys Velaryon
Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you
The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you
Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option
Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him
After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral
Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational
Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?
He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you
Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else
You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no
He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge
“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”
That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated
As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door
No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible
You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that
It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him
Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option
If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane
You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else
The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen
There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think
Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes
When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his
He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony
Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes
Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong
He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care
Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works
A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works
You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true
A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning
You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms
When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father
When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood
Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision
After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation
As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course
But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon is angry when your father tells him no
And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you
In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond
Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen
You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily
He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed
Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse
You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan
He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked
Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that
Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt
It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you
You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded
All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation
You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach
Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below
Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father
He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing
Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”
Daemon Targaryen
Daemon is amused upon being told no
He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself
After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary
In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says
Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife
And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold
He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment
He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again
He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you
Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you
He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen
If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you
He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme
He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for
With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives
In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies
He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself
And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years
Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that
And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you
He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon
Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you
The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing
He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back
It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars
There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount
As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face
Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word
“Dracarys.”
Lucerys Velaryon
Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal
It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life
Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what
Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan
He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again
And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night
With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring
You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married
Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child
Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow
And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your
concerned father
They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?
And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress
Almost
You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes
“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly
You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins
“Y/N is with child.”
Aemond Targaryen
Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge
Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really
For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead
He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you
The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to
The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker
He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss
They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man
You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles
You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree
After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat
He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision
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yuutryingtowrite · 7 months ago
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Yandere!Barista who is the “poster boy”of the coffee shop he works at. It is honestly deserved: he has a pretty face, a charming smile and a playful yet sweet attitude. He is especially popular among the girls…who he keeps rejecting. He is just not looking for something casual, you know? He dates to marry, not to be someone’s eye-candy.
Yandere!Barista who, one day, sees you walk into the store. Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt you have on ? He loves that band! This is what he tells you when it is your turn to order. What do you mean he looks too much like a goody two-shoes to be a fan? Alright, Miss “I am so dark and edgy”, what do you want to order? Black coffee? The banter goes on until he has to shoo you away, with an amused smile, as the other people in line are starting to get impatient.
Yandere!Barista who glances your way every chance he gets. Not only are you fun to talk to, but you also look really cute. Sometimes, between orders, he gets to converse with you. He eagerly returns your small wave when it is time for you to leave. As he goes to your table to collect the receipt, he finds your cup still there. On it, there is a small doodle of him along with your number. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he brings a hand to cover the side of his face. He is definitely keeping that cup.
Yandere!Barista who saved your number under “Cutie <3”. The more you text each other, the more you hang out together, the more he becomes obsessed. It is honestly starting to scare him. The other night, he had your cup in his hands to look at the doodle. Next thing he knew, he had his lips where yours had been when you were drinking from it. It flustered him so much, he threw the cup in the trash bin afterwards…only to go get it back five minutes later…He is asking you out on a date for sure next time he sees you.
Yandere!Barista who does your coffee with trembling hands. He really doesn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave him a choice. Today, on your usual table, you are sitting with a man other than him. He can’t possibly lose the only person who took the time to get to know him beyond his looks. The drug should work in about fifteen minutes, five minutes after closing time. This should be perfect, you always wait for him to close the shop and walk home together. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this…You will be happy at his house, you will be happy with him. It is with a heavy mind and painful heart that he gives you your order.
Yandere!Barista who you got pinned against the wall of the storage room, one hand beside his head and the other one holding your cup. He is as white as a ghost. He keeps looking around. He is sweating all over. This couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly know- You firmly grab his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Drink”, you say coldly. What are you gonna do to him after he becomes unconscious? Will you report him to the police? Will you hurt him? He closes his eyes tightly as you bring the cup to his lips. The moment it reaches them, you drop it on the floor and replace it with your lips. His eyes open in shock as you give him a small, tender kiss. “That was my cousin, idiot”, you tell him affectionately. You look at him for a couple more seconds before putting on your bag. He is still frozen in place as you add: “Tomorrow, 6pm, at my house. Alright?”. You leave before he can answer.
Yandere!Barista who slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. All that is left of him is a blushing, quivering mess. With shaky fingers, he touches his lips; a small whimper involuntarily comes out his mouth. He is about to combust. He feels so weak, he can’t get up. You scared the shit out of him, but that was so hot ahh…He didn’t know you could be this assertive. And that kiss…he buries his face in his hands and groans. Kissing you is all he has ever dreamed of, yet he stayed still like a dumbass when it finally happened. He is so lame-you make him so lame. Guess tomorrow would be his chance to redeem himself.
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heechwe · 5 months ago
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but daddy i love him | 𝐬𝐣𝐲
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୨୧ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 10.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: badboy!au, innocent!reader, opposites attract, sexual tension, corruption kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), 69, pet names (baby, angel, etc.), face sitting, protected sex. ୨୧ synopsis: Just because there's a new and seemingly bad influence in your small town, it doesn't mean you have to fall privy to his charms, no matter how beautiful he is. But when he takes notice of you, none of the gossiping wine moms can stop him from getting what he wants. ➸ shoutout to @kwanisms and @mini-mews for helping this fic come to fruition, ily guys sm and this is genuinely one of my favorite pieces ive ever written aaa.
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“Have you heard about the new family who moved into town? The son is a real piece of work!”
“He’s twenty-one but acts like he’s still sixteen on that damn motorcycle. No class or consideration whatsoever!”
“Maybe they’ll keep him in check if they decide to come to church this weekend. You know Reverend Park has no time for miscreants and delinquents.”
The familiar crowd on your mother’s front porch greets you as you’re attempting to exit the house. They cool themselves off with their makeshift fans and drink your mother’s homemade lemonade in the Saturday sun, continuing to harp on the locals in town that they’ve known for years.
Somewhere in their conversation, they drifted to the topic of the new family that moved in across the street. Three days was all it took for them to begin spouting their judgemental observations, every act from the new middle-aged couple and their son fodder for their discussion.
You smile politely with every fiber of your being, despite your instincts to snap at them and be on your merry way. If only they knew how ironic they are, pointing fingers at others from their high horses when the town kept enough space for their dirty little secrets. “Nice to see you this morning, ladies.”
They say your name with grace, their tones all air with little substance. “On your way to bible study?” Mrs. Choi asks, gazing at you from the rim of her glass.
You shake your head. “Just tutoring.”
“With the Nishimura boy? What a sweet kid.” When Riki’s name leaves Mrs. Lee’s lips, all the women hum in agreement. “Such a bright future ahead of him.”
“Of course, as long as he passes English,” you joke. The women’s faces don’t change, not taking your teasing with an ounce of anything but seriousness. The bags under their eyes, lipstick smudged in the tiny corners of their teeth, and piercing attitudes begin to damper your excitement for the day. You bid them goodbye quickly with another smile, walking down the stairs and onto the path down the street.
As you turn down the sidewalk, still hearing the resounding chatter from the women, your thoughts run wild. Is this what life would be like when you were older, doing nothing but kicking your feet up on a neighbor’s porch with only other people’s business to fill your time? Spending endless days and nights at church, listening to the same sermons leave Reverend Park’s lips until you become as overly critical as they all are?
The screech of tires halts your thoughts in their place. “Watch it!” A young man’s voice pierces the morning air, making you step back even further. You hadn’t realized how far you had walked into the road until you were back on the safety of the sidewalk. You trip on a crack between the two slabs of concrete, falling backwards and meeting the ground hard.
“Shit, are you okay?” He takes his helmet off, immediately hooking it to his handlebars to check on you.
Sim Jaeyun.
You had not met him formally until this moment, but the motorcycle and undeniable looks gave away his status as your new neighbor. Your parents had decided to let the new family settle in before trying to visit and introduce themselves. If they could see you now, your maxi skirt hitched up to your knees and the boy barely a foot away from you, they would have had a field day.
Sure, you both are of age. Butlike Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Lee, and other local townsfolk always do, people will talk about such a compromising position if you aren’t careful.
All those thoughts fade away though when Jake kneels beside you, his face flooded with concern. His eyes linger on the broken skin on your legs and then across your flushed face. “Does it hurt?”
You shake your head. “It’s barely a scratch. Sorry I almost ran into you.”
“More like almost ran into my bike.” He laughs, his expression one of relief as well as humor. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”
“Thank the lord.” You brush your hands on your skirt and begin to stand up, but Jake grabs you by the hand to help, taking all your weight with him.
“Thank you,” you say, brushing the free hair from your braid out of your face.
“You’re welcome.” He unclips his helmet from the bar and gestures back to his bike. “I can drive you to wherever you’re going if you want. I don’t have a second helmet, but–”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, the thought of riding on the back of a motorcycle too ridiculous to envision given your status as the deacon’s daughter. What would people say?
Jake just furrows his brows, his lips turning up at the corners. “Is my offer that funny?”
“No,” you say, “I would love to, it’s just–”
“Sim Jaeyun!” The shrill sound of Mrs. Choi’s voice makes you take another step away from Jake, unaware you were as close as you were to him. His presence seems to be magnetic, just like his smile. “Stay away from her or so help me God!”
Jake turns to the old woman down the road and nods his head, trying to be respectful but clearly irritated from her meddling. “Yes ma’am,” he yells, stepping back and getting closer to his bike.
“Maybe another time,” Jake says, “when you’re not flocked by the whining wine moms.”
You laugh and nod. “Maybe.”
Jake rides away on his bike, the wispy ends of his hair your last picture of him before he makes a sharp turn at the end of your street.
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“Why do I need to learn this?” Riki groans, laying his head flat against his desk. The church bells ring as he knocks his head in the same rhythm against the polished wood.
“Because you need to be able to interpret text if you want to go off to college, Nishi. Otherwise you’ll be illiterate and an embarrassment to the entire town!” You put on your best harping, disapproving voice. It makes Riki laugh as he lifts his head. You’re glad at least the younger kids appreciate your sense of humor, unlike the older brood flooding your hometown.
“Alright, fine.” He opens his copy of Heart of Darkness, beginning to read the page in front of him. “I avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope…”
A knock on the classroom door makes you and Riki turn. Yeri opens it with a shy grin, saying your name with the same nature. “Someone’s here to see you!”
“Who?”
“Some cute guy on a motorcycle? But don’t tell Jungwon I said that!” She runs back out the door and leaves you puzzled. Surely it’s not Jake. You just met him; he wouldn’t make the effort to try and follow you to your tutoring session, especially at the church of all places.
You head to the window to see Jake sitting against his bike, looking around at his surroundings. He’s wearing the same leather jacket and gray jeans, his white shirt marked with several spots of sweat. Riki comes up behind you, making a sound of acknowledgement. “Oh, that’s Jake!”
“Jake?” You look closer. “I thought his name was Jaeyun.”
“Yeah, but I call him Jake.” He laughs. “He’s my cousin.”
You nod your head, taking in his words. Jake’s sudden move made a lot more sense, seeing as Riki’s mother was getting sicker every day. She must have needed some help from her family to not only manage her household, but make sure Riki stayed on track.
“He probably wants to see you. Yeri must’ve gotten it all mixed up.”
Riki grabs his phone, scrolling through texts with his thumb. “Actually, he did mention almost running over a cute girl on his way to work.” The young boy smirks. “I’m gonna assume that’s you?”
You blush, the flush on your cheeks making you feel hot. “Whatever. He’s probably just picking you up!”
“I brought my own bicycle, dude. And as cool as Jake is, his driving makes me nauseous.” Riki begins packing up his belongings on the desk as you wonder what Jake would want to say that hadn’t already been said earlier. Surely he had no interest in talking to you beyond another apology for almost killing you earlier, not that you would have noticed.
As your thoughts continue on, you barely hear Riki’s parting words. “Have fun making out with my cousin!”
You venture outside and are greeted to Jake’s soft smile as he looks you over. “Didn’t expect you to be teaching my cousin how to read.”
You laugh. “When would that have come up? Before or after I fell face-first on the sidewalk?”
“Technically, you fell on your ass.” He looks over the cuts on your leg again. “Still doesn’t hurt?”
“Barely remember it.”
“Damn. Didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he teases. You shuck your backpack over your shoulder, pretending his joke didn’t land. But you can’t help how your mouth curves into a grin. “Wanna take me up on that ride now? I don’t see any wine moms in sight.”
Being clear headed and not in the midst of a compromising position, you take a better look at Jake. He may look rugged from the neck down, muscles standing out through his jacket, but his face is incredibly youthful and vulnerable without a touch of hardness. Maybe the wine moms had gotten it wrong; maybe Jake’s actually a stand-up guy bundled up in a lot of leather.
Before you can answer, your father seems to appear from thin air. He wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Mr. Sim, pleasure to meet you officially.”
Your father holds out his hand for Jake, and Jake takes it with a steadfast grip. “Nice to meet you too sir. My mother was telling me how much you’ve been helping my aunt since she can’t attend services anymore.”
“Akemi is a pillar of our church. It’s only right to take care of one of our own as the deacon.” Your father squeezes you tighter to his side. “Glad to see you and my daughter have met. I hope she’s made a good impression upon you.”
“Yes sir. Very much so.” He smiles in your direction. The dimple in his cheek makes your heart flutter in your chest, the butterflies undeniable.
“Well, please tell your parents to come to ours soon for dinner. It would be a pleasure.” Your father begins the quick walk to his car, the silent request for you to follow him clear in his stern posture. You give Jake an apologetic smile before you leave, hoping your eyes hold the promise of taking him up on that ride someday.
When you’re both out of earshot and in the confines of your father’s car, he turns to you with a frown. “Do not get yourself involved with that boy. He doesn’t strike me as very forthcoming.”
You stutter out an excuse. Surely the first day of knowing Jake wouldn’t be the last. “F-Father–”
“Listen to me, sweetie. I know what I’m talking about.” He starts the car and begins the drive home, tightening his fists on the steering wheel. “I mean it. Do not see that boy again.”
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The next morning, you’re sitting in one of the front pews with your mother, Yeri, and her mother. You see your fellow townsfolk in attendance in the other pews, Jungwon being one of them, Yeri’s longtime boyfriend. Mrs. Choi and Mrs. Lee look like they are partially focused on the attendees, but also on their own gossip.
All of you are dressed in your best outfits, your hair wrapped in a bun to maintain the peak of modesty. It doesn’t seem particularly realistic for a higher power to be judging you for your hairdo, but you gave in to your mother’s ridiculous requests as always. “We are important people in this community, darling,” your mother said as she stuck the umpteenth bobby pin in your hair. “If they can’t trust us, who can they trust?”
Riki sits behind you, his pew empty save for him. When you offer the empty spot next to you before the procession starts, he shakes his head. “Jake and his folks will be here any second.”
Your gut tightens, the words of your father playing over in your head. You know you have to heed his orders at all times, but the excitement you feel at the prospect of seeing Jake is unavoidable.
A minute before your childhood friend Heeseung sits at the piano to play the beginning of How Great Is Our God, Jake and his family walk inside. Jake’s impeccably dressed, clad in a red dress-shirt and suit pants. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a handful of tattoos you didn’t notice the day prior. He has his mother’s arm in one hand and a bible in the other, looking completely out of place but incredibly mesmerizing.
He winks at you when he sits down, making you turn your head back to your friend at the piano. You follow in your mother’s and Yeri’s lead, singing alongside them and forgetting the new buzz in your veins. You can feel his eyes on you throughout the songs and sermons, and you should say that you don’t enjoy it, but you don't kid yourself. His attention makes your body tingle in all the right and wrong ways.
You excuse yourself in the intermission, walking outside until you’re a good ten paces away from the church. You take several pins out of your hair, grunting. The incessant tools had been scratching your scalp uncomfortably for the past three hours, and it feels like freedom taking them out one at a time.
It isn’t that you don’t believe in a higher power or the teachings your father and Reverend Park have supplied you with your entire life. The town is just too suffocating on days like these, setting you up to feel like you aren’t good enough no matter how hard you try every day to perfect yourself.
The fashion show of your humble, presentable outfit, the whispered chatter from your community, the watchful eyes of holy men. They all make your skin crawl, that itch only intensifying with every day that passes. How could you stay in such a small room for years and feel misunderstood by everyone? 
Jake saunters up to you, making you gasp in surprise. “Jesus Christ!”
He smirks, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I thought you weren’t supposed to say his name in vain.”
You shrug, smiling in relief to find it’s just him and nobody else. No-one to meddle, judge, or question your absence. “I’ll just say a few words of penance. I’m sure he’ll forgive me.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Jake chuckles and steps closer to you, his eyes lingering on your dress. It’s incredibly modest, the only skin showing high above your cleavage. but the look in his eyes still makes your nerves tremble.
 You wonder what thoughts are swimming in his head and if a majority of them are impure. Would it be so wrong to confess that you feel the same? That whatever he’s imagining mirrors your own fantasies ten times over?
“The updo doesn’t suit you,” he says finally.
You giggle and cross your arms. “It doesn’t, huh?”
He steps closer, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. It lingers across your neck and shoulder blades. You shudder, hoping he doesn’t notice how his presence affects you. He reaches behind you and takes hold of the hair tie keeping your bun together. He expertly undoes it, your hair falling in waves around your shoulders.
Before he walks away, the church bells signaling the recommencement of the procession, he whispers in your ear, “Much more breathtaking with your hair down, angel.”
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The next time you see Jake, he’s across from you at your family’s dinner table, all laughs with Jungwon and Yeri as your father passes out the rest of the side dishes. Riki is also there, discussing his mother’s treatment with your mother and Jake’s parents.
You can’t help the way your eyes attach to Jake across from you. It’s almost a form of punishment that you were made to sit in such close proximity, the weight of his stare on you swallowing you whole.
The feeling of his hand in your hair, his mouth against your ear–it was all so incredibly inappropriate. You shouldn’t have thought about that day last week with such excruciating frequency, but you did. You thought about it when you heard the wine moms whispering about Jake on your porch, when Yeri and Jungwon talked about him as you studied, and when you were alone at night. 
In your dreams, it was even more painful. In a perfect world, he would take his hand from your hair and keep it on your neck, holding you close. He would move his lips from the shell of your ear to the side of your neck, kissing and tasting what skin was available to him in that moment to make you come undone.
Yes, sitting across from him is torment. But the alternative is worse, not seeing him at all and having to conjure images of him alone in the quiet of your bedroom.
“Deacon, sir,” Jungwon pipes up from his spot next to Jake, addressing your father directly. “I was going to study with Jaeyun and Yeri at my house if you wouldn’t mind your daughter tagging along.”
The muscle in your father’s jaw clenches. He’s clearly unhappy with one of the attendees being Jake, but he hides it behind a smile. “It’s up to her. What do you think, sweetie?”
On one hand, you should absolutely say no. Jake may take you into a random spot of Jungwon’s house and make any resolve you still have disappear with the flick of his wrist. Even in the company of your friends, you know no place is safe when he’s around and close to you. And were you willing to crumble so easily?
At the same time, the distance is eating away at you. You can’t take another charged glance in your direction, words unspoken but begging to be released. If you have to catch his bedroom eyes on your body one more time, you may just snap in front of everyone, and care little when you do.
“Sure. I’d love to, Wonie,” you say with a grin. “Nishi, you want to come too?”
Riki shakes his head, enjoying the fruitcake your mom set out. “I’ll stay. Someone has to help clean up.” Jake’s mom squeezes one of his cheeks. Riki’s face suddenly turns pink from his aunt’s affection, making everyone laugh.
On your way out the door, your father catches you by the arm. He whispers, “No later than midnight. Understood?”
On the cusp of 10 PM, you want to protest that time with your friends is already so limited, but you obey with a nod and walk out the door. 
When you get in the backseat of Jungwon’s car, Jake too comfortable beside you, you feel your body flicker to life. “So,” you say, “your house then, Won?”
Yeri and Jungwon laugh, a conspiratory look in both of their eyes. “We’re just gonna make a quick stop first.”
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Kiss ‘Em Creek was the unofficial name of the lake that ran through your town, a spot for teenagers to spend a few hours alone with their friends or partners. It wasn’t scientifically-correct, but it stuck nonetheless, many of the locals taking advantage of the not-so-secret hideaway. What went on there you only heard about through Yeri and the wine moms’ conversations, their voices littered with disappointment and condemnation.
Jungwon parks his car and turns his eyes to meet yours in the rearview mirror, that scheming smile still playing on his lips. “Ready to take a dip?”
Your eyes widen. You shake your head at a rapid pace, making your friends and Jake chuckle. “No way,” you say.
“C’mon babe, live a little!” Yeri winks and exits the car, Jungwon hot on her heels. The two of them begin to strip to their underwear, eager to jump in the water together. Jungwon picks her up in a bridal carry, Yeri laughing the entire way as he takes the first step into the awaiting lake.
As the two lovebirds continue heading towards the water, you and Jake sit in comfortable silence, your heartbeat slowly rising at the prospect of being alone in the car together. No distractions, no disappointed parents, no judgemental hags. Just the two of you under a cloud of stars and beautiful moonlight.
“I didn’t know if you would come tonight,” Jake says, filling the silence with a quiet chuckle. “Thought you were avoiding me at all costs, like I’m some kind of plague.”
“No!” You turn in your seat to face him. His expression is teasing but holds undercurrents of disappointment, clearly confused where your feelings lie. And he has every right to feel that way. One minute you’re wishing he would pull you closer, and the next you feel it’s better he keeps his distance. “I just don’t know what your intentions are.”
His eyes darken and his lips curve into a beautiful but intimidating smile. “Is it not obvious?”
You squeeze your thighs together, a wave of heat spreading through your bones. “Maybe I just want you to say it out loud.”
He scoots closer to you, his chest a heartbeat away from yours. “Well, to start,” he says, “I would really like to kiss you.”
You smile. A breathless laugh leaves your lips, eager to know what it would feel like to touch his mouth to yours. “I’d like that too.”
Jake runs a hand through your hair and rests it on your cheek. His touch is as fragile as the tension between you. “Then what are you so afraid of?”
You shut your eyes, trying to come up with the right words and falling short. “It’s just everyone–”
“Fuck everyone else.” He forces you to look into his eyes, the words leaving his mouth being some of the truest ones you’ve ever heard in your life. “You’re not a bad person or a sinner for wanting what you want.”
“I know that.”
“You may know it but you don’t believe it.” Jake’s lips ghost over yours, his breath tickling your cheeks. “Stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you. Think of yourself for once.”
Maybe Jake’s right. All of your choices in life have been dictated by what your parents, friends, and total strangers have felt. If you listened to your own heart, you would have left all of them in the dust by now, chasing what you really wanted far away from this place.
At the same time, you’re glad to be in this car with Jake. He’s so close to you, telling you to take the leap and choose yourself for the first time in a long time.
When you press your lips to his, the feeling of his mouth on yours soft and tentative, you know you can’t wake up tomorrow the same person. This choice will ripple into all the choices you make from this moment on, but you don’t seem to care.
All that matters is his mouth, taking more control and setting a fire deep in your belly. He presses his tongue to the juncture of your lips, diving inside without protest.
You moan into his mouth, feeling one hand firmly pressed on your neck as the other runs down your shirt to squeeze at your breast through your clothes.
“Fuck, tell me to stop,” Jake says with a heady whisper, still kneading your breast with his palm. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”
You shake your head, moving closer to him to the point you’re halfway on his lap, legs intertwined with his. “So help me God, don’t stop now.”
He snickers, pecking your lips again. “You said his name in vain again.”
You roll your eyes as he chuckles into your neck. “That wasn’t the first thing on my mind.” You move your lips to his cheek. “Or the second.” They trail down to his neck, taking your fantasies and etching them into his skin. “Or third.”
“Fuck,” Jake curses, holding you tight against him. “You’re too good at this.”
You smirk. “Contrary to popular belief, you’re not the first person I’ve ever kissed.”
He laughs, the rumble of it vibrating against your mouth. “I don’t care as long as you keep kissing me.”
“Wasn’t planning on stopping.” By the time you reattach your mouth to his, you’re straddling his lap. His hands are nestled on the small of your back, wanting to inch down further but unsure where or what your boundaries are.
You take the initiative, suddenly bold, and put both of his palms on your backside. “If you wanted to touch my ass, you could’ve just said so.”
Jake licks his lips, his accent coming out in a husky whisper. “I want to touch you in a lot of places. Your ass just happens to be easily accessible right now.”
“Oh really?” You giggle. “Care to enlighten me?”
Jake sharply switches positions, your back against the expanse of the backseat as he towers over you. He rubs his hands across the outside of your thighs, eager but patient. “Gladly.”
He kisses your neck, suckling and licking with perfect pressure, making you whimper. “Jaeyun,” you say out loud, his name coming out like a question more than a statement.
“Use your words, angel. Tell me what you want.” His eyes pass over your face, your kissable lips and lust-blown irises. You’re too entrenched in him now to walk away from this car the same girl, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
It may end badly, crash and burn completely like everyone expects it to, but that’s the last thing you care about right now.
“I want you to touch me.” You take one of his hands on your thighs and place it over your underwear, its center damp.
“Jesus,” he says in wonder, rubbing his fingers against the cotton.
“You just said–oh,” you stop short when you feel Jake’s fingers against your clit. The sensation makes you buck your hips up into him, him discovering the bundle of nerves without trying hard. He’s clearly happy at the wetness he finds. He rubs your folds in the same fashion, biting down on his bottom lip hard.
“You feel so good already. So perfect,” he whispers, taking hold of your lips again with his own while he swirls his fingers in and around your essence. He switches between teasing your clit and rubbing along your pussy, his movements lewd yet graceful. Only when he puts a finger inside of you do you gasp and look at him directly, your eyes clearly giving away your fear.
“What’s wrong, angel? Did I do something?” Concern floods his face, but he doesn’t take his hand away.
“I’ve never gone this far,” you confess, looking to your side to hide your embarrassment.
“Hey, look at me.” He turns your head to face him again, fingers laying under your chin softly. “We can stop now if you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.”
His response makes your heart clench. Most guys, you’d imagine, would be pissed off or pleading with you to continue on, to do what they wanted and enjoy the moment. That was how Jongseong was, pouting the entire time after you told him to pump the brakes on your makeout sessions.
Somehow, with Jake, it feels right to continue. You suddenly have no anxiety clouding your thoughts or expectations weighing on your heart. You kiss his lips tenderly and shake your head. “No, I want this. I want you.”
A cheshire-cat grin spreads across his face before he goes in for another kiss. He runs his tongue along the inside of your mouth as his finger slides across your folds once again. He plunges it deep inside of your heat, your body adjusting to the new sensation with surprising ease.
You thrash lightly underneath him, matching the tempo of his finger with abandon. He slips another digit in, groaning at the feeling of your soft, gummy walls becoming accustomed to him. “You’re taking my fingers so well, angel. ‘S fucking incredible.”
You gasp and feel the fire from earlier heightening in intensity, spreading from your belly into the other seams of your body. It makes your toes curl and your hand press against one of the doors of Jungwon’s car, needing something to clutch onto while feeling yourself losing what’s left of your control.
“Jaeyun, I think I–”
“I know baby,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re going to feel so good in a second, I promise. Don’t be afraid.”
His thumb makes contact with your neglected clit, rubbing in rapid motions as he pumps his fingers faster in and out of you. You suddenly become overloaded with pleasure; its immensity is something you’ve never felt before. You feel it coat the back of your mouth and take what’s left of your rational senses, your body moving on its own accord as you ride out what’s remaining of your orgasm.
You blush furiously when you come back down to earth, giggling like a schoolgirl as Jake kisses your sweat-drenched cheek. “That was…amazing.”
Jake chuckles, a smirk painting his features. “You’re amazing.”
You tuck your face in your hands, embarrassed but still enraptured by what you just experienced. He pulls one hand away, taking it in his own, his expression suddenly shy. “So, I guess this is the part where I ask you on a proper date.”
You laugh and sit up, placing your panties back around your hips and adjusting your skirt. “I would hope so!”
Jungwon and Yeri choose that moment to run back into the car, their hair drenched but their bodies properly dressed once again. Jungwoon looks at the two of you in the backseat and grimaces. “Not in my car, man!”
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Despite the warnings from your parents and the wine moms, you and Jake had become inseparable within a month’s time. It took many late-night impromptu meetings and secret rendezvous to keep your relationship private, but you had succeeded thus far. And it only made the moments you both shared that much more special.
Riki had kept your secret, keeping his eyes out for any prying townsfolk and covering for his cousin and you if need be. Yeri and Jungwon also cheered you on from the shadows, hoping one day you could be public like they were without criticism.
Sitting in the field near the lake, a picnic blanket set across the grass, you have your head in Jake’s lap while he absentmindedly turns strands of your hair into miniature braids. It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon, the two of you occupying the resounding forest with no outside influences.
“Have I told you lately how beautiful your hair is?” Jake asks, kissing your forehead before he takes another batch of strands in his hand. If he has to pick one of your best attributes, in his words, he’d say it was a tie between your lips and your hair, the two of them constantly making his heart race. You called him a liar, but as time revealed, he was nothing but honest with you every day, and not just about what turns him on. 
Over time, you discovered his fears, his ticks, his aspirations past the small town you both found yourselves in. You admire his vulnerability, how open he is when sharing the thoughts that occupy his mind.
“At least three times already,” you tease, running your hand across his leg.
“It’s not bad to hear it a fourth time, right?” He plants another kiss to the crown of your head. He drops the braid he’s just made across your face, making you laugh.
“I’d rather hear how work went today,” you say, getting up to press your back to his chest, snuggling into him.
He shrugs, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Not much to talk about. Working with roofs all day isn’t exactly exciting, angel.” 
You know Jake doesn’t want to work at his dad’s construction company for the rest of his life. However, it provides stability, and that matters a lot to him. He knows what it did to his aunt when Riki’s father walked out early on in his cousin’s life, and he wouldn’t wish that lack of support on anyone.
“At least you’re not running a tutoring center and a daycare in the same church,” you joke, your tone anything but humorous. The brood you dealt with every day was completely unlike Riki. They were kids that were carbon copies of their parents, children that would one day become exactly like their absentminded fathers and speculatory mothers. It put a taste in your mouth you couldn’t stomach.
You fall into steady silence, the uptick in both of your nerves ebbing away the longer you hold each other. Sure, Jake hates roofing as much as you hate disciplining whining toddlers and helping apathetic tweens with mathematics, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.
All that does is each other, enjoying the midweek sunset and the sounds of the birds flying overhead.
“What would you do if you were somewhere else?” Jake asks into the crook of your neck.
You grin, imagining a world of possibilities. The question never came up before, not from him or anyone else. It opens up a plethora of choices in your mind, but you narrow them down quickly, knowing what your heart truly desires.
“I’d like to teach,” you answer. “Really teach, maybe at a university. Something like poetry.” You turn to look at him, a newfound fire in your eyes. “Yeah.”
Jake smiles back at you, moving stray strands of hair from your shoulder to rest his head there. “I think you’d be great at that.”
“What would you do?”
Jake ponders the question, going over it in the same way you were moments before. You see realization wash over his features, and it makes you smile. “I think I’d write. Not literature or anything, but songs maybe? Teach music in the meantime. Still have to make money somehow, y’know.”
You giggle and push him down on the picnic blanket, running your fingers through his hair. “Sounds like a plan.”
He nods, sharing your happiness. “Maybe a kid and a dog can fit somewhere in that plan.”
Chuckling, you raise one eyebrow. “As long as I’m not having a baby out of wedlock, that sounds perfect to me.”
He turns you both over, covering your body with his and kissing you intensely. The passion runs from his body to yours, your heartbeats matching in their strong beats against your chests. “Perfect,” he whispers, his lips meeting yours once again.
It may be too soon to call it love, but you know you’re tiptoeing that line, and you wouldn’t mind falling headfirst on the other side of it as long as Jake’s there waiting for you.
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“Are you sure they don’t know I’m here?” Jake asks, hesitant to walk up the stairs to your bedroom.
“It’s fine! They’re at a seminar all weekend with Reverend Park and his son, I promise.” You kiss his lips before running up to your room. Still on the fence, you hear his tentative footsteps trudging behind you.
Another few months rolled by, and your parents had softened to the idea of Jake being around more often. He showed up with his parents to church every Sunday, even if you both snuck off to make out in the backwoods when nobody was paying attention.
He’d stick around for the deacon’s sessions with Akemi, brightening her spirits with his guitar and a couple of songs to replace the ones she missed during normal processions. It helped that she seemed to be getting better, slowly but surely, with treatment and daily prayer.
When you heard your father call Jake a “nice kid,” you knew they were turning a corner in their relationship that you wished for since the night Jake kissed you in Jungwon’s car.
Now, that doesn’t mean they would be happy with finding him in your bed on a Friday night, but you’ve broken enough rules at this point. What’s one more?
“You’re trying to get me killed,” Jake jokes as you rip his shirt from his body, discarding the article of clothing on your bedroom floor. You sit on your bed and marvel at the muscles on his chest and stomach, all of it yours to caress and kiss at any time.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll follow you to heaven,” you tease, pulling him closer to kiss his body. Each press of your lips to his skin makes him tremble, cursing quietly to himself at the feeling.
“With the way you’re touching me, I doubt either of us will make it there.”
You giggle and link his mouth to yours. You moan when his tongue hits the roof of your mouth.
The intentions you had for tonight definitely involved numerous bouts of kissing, but the way Jake’s making you feel will certainly end up with his face or fingers between your legs. And as good as that sounds, you don’t want him derailing you from completing your mission.
There had been so many moments of him giving you pleasure up to this point, you wondered how he had stayed so composed and content after without expecting anything in return.
So, tonight, you decided to give him a bit of satisfaction, even if you’re walking into such activities without any kind of road map. Yeri gave you a handful of tips, but doing it for real is another beast entirely.
“Jaeyun, wait,” you say, taking his face in between your hands.
He looks up at you with eager eyes, wondering why you pulled him away from your neck. “What is it?”
“I want to take care of you this time.” You say, hoping your expression gives off the confidence you’re trying to portray. “I’ve never done it before, but—“
“And you don’t have to, angel,” Jake says with a dopey, relaxed smile. What on Earth and heaven did you do to find a guy like him?
“Please,” you beg, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. “I want to try.”
Jake’s conflicting feelings are evident in his eyes. Surely any man wants his girlfriend to go down on him with the same eagerness that you're giving him right now, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated. 
In his mind, pleasure isn’t about some sort of trade-off. He makes you feel good because he wants to, not because it’s some duty he has to fulfill and expects to be paid back for later.
But, you asked so nicely and your eyes shine up at him so beautifully. He feels his resolve crumble enough to concede and do what you want.
You begin to unbutton his pants, your fingers twitching not from fear but excitement. When you pull down his jeans fully and see the outline of his bulge in his briefs, your mouth falls open slightly at the size.
Could it fit in your mouth if it was that big?
Jake chuckles and takes your hand to press to the gaping material covering him. “It won’t bite.”
You look up at him and begin to stutter, unsure how to continue once you take off his underwear. “D-Do you want me to use my hands first?”
“Whatever feels right to you, angel. I trust you.” He rubs his thumb across your cheek, and it calms all the nerves that came to the surface.
It’s in those three words that you find the courage to pull the remaining article of clothing off of him, taking in the sight of his cock in all its glory.
You gulp hard, trailing your eyes from the tip to where it adjoins to the rest of him. You’ve never seen one up close before, and you feel like you’re invading his privacy as you stare at it for another long minute. But who can blame you?
“It’s all for you, baby,” Jake whispers. “Do whatever you want.”
You feel a sharp pang of heat at the center of your thighs, his words spurring you on. You spit into your hand, as Yeri instructed, and wrap your hand firmly around Jake’s cock. With an easy but deliberate pace, you look at Jake directly to see if you’re starting off on the right foot.
And boy were you.
Jake hisses at the feeling of your hand encasing him, loving the tightness of your fingers as they continue sliding up and down his dick. He had envisioned this many times in the solitude of his bedroom, images of you and your beautiful body writhing underneath him enough to get him off. But those nights were nothing compared to this.
“Are you ready for my mouth now?” You ask timidly. Jake wants to laugh at how innocent you sound, the words coming so naturally off of your tongue.
“Yes, angel, please,” he answers, wanting to caress you by the hair and guide you down to his awaiting, leaking cock.
You move closer until you're an inch away from his tip. Flattening your tongue to take it into your mouth, you keep watching Jake’s face for the right signals.
His mouth opens, a satisfied whine leaving his lips. You feel a wave of pride at the fact he’s enjoying it so much, egging you on further.
“Your mouth feels so perfect wrapped around me,” he confesses. He soaks in the sensation of your lips and teeth softly running over the veins of his cock, your head bobbing across his length skillfully. How can an innocent and dutiful daughter like you give such mind-blowing head?
He can’t ruminate on the answer long, releasing a guttural moan as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, the gag that rumbles from you making his cock even more sensitive.
“Angel, I’m gonna come soon,” Jake warns. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, let me know now.”
You look up through your lashes at him as you continue sucking on him with fierce passion, swirling your tongue across his tip. 
His hand is wrapped firmly in your hair now, fucking your face as softly as he can without forcing anymore of himself down your throat. When you take a hand to cup his balls, softly kneading them between your fingers, he’s done for.
He whines pathetically as his seed shoots inside your mouth. The taste isn’t particularly pleasing, but you milk it for what it’s worth to watch him fall apart so perfectly under your attention.
The orgasm rocks through him with an unshakeable amount of pleasure, his body completely helpless as he continues to spurt into your mouth. He can only hiss and whine as you continue to touch him, letting him come down fully and taking all of him without complaint.
Jake breathes in deeply when he gains clarity again, taking you in his arms and shoving his tongue deep in your mouth. “That was probably the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” he states, running his fingers over your face with adoration.
You scoff and roll your eyes, his words making you shy. “I doubt it, seeing as that was my first one.”
“It was!” Jake puts a hand on his heart. “Swear to the savior himself.” Before you can rebut, Jake takes your legs in his hands and moves you to the edge of the bed.
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You wake up to the hard knocks at your bedroom door, the morning sun peeking out of your window to prove the previous night has long gone.
“Honey? What did we say about locked doors in this house?”
Your father’s booming voice makes you jump up from bed, smacking Jake hard on the shoulder and chest to wake him up.
“We had an odd feeling at the hotel, so we came home early,” your mother says as you shake Jake from his sleep.
“Ow, what the fuck,” Jake grunts, his voice not quiet enough to go unnoticed. You curse yourself and the reality in front of what’s about to happen, knowing full well your parents heard him on the other side of the door.
“Sweetie, who’s in there with you?” Your mother’s shrill but concerned tone makes you cringe. Jake’s eyes bulge in response, quickly leaping from the mattress to pull on his clothes in haste.
Just when you throw your dress from last night over your head and Jake buttons up his pants, your father slams open the door with his shoulder. Your parents gasp and yell at the sight before them, the man they began to grow comfortable with in a compromising position with their only daughter and precious child.
“What in God’s name is he doing here?” Your father asks no-one in particular, stomping towards Jake’s shirtless figure and yanking him by the neck.
“Daddy, stop!” You plead, scratching and clawing at his frame to pull him off of your lover.
Your mother begins blubbering, teary-eyed before you. “Oh honey, what did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” you scream. “Please leave him alone and let us be.”
“I told you to stay away from him.” Your father stares you down, eyes blazing with fury. “Not only did you betray me, but you betrayed the sanctity of your purity. It’s a disgrace.”
Jake coughs, your father’s hands tightening around his neck. “The only disgrace is the two of you holding her back, like she’s some weak bird in a cage,” he croaks. “She can make her own decisions.”
“You stay silent, you insolent pest,” your father growls, yanking Jake out of your room and down the stairs. By the time you and your mother make it out to the bottom step, your father has thrown Jake out and onto the porch.
“Stay away from my daughter, or you’ll have another reason to pray you don’t end up burning in hell.”
“Stop it!” You step in between your father and Jake, the latter putting on what’s left of his clothes. People begin to hover too close to your family home, suddenly entrenched in the scene playing out before them.
Jake kisses your forehead and walks away in the direction of his parked bike, unsure what else he can do unless he wants to truly end up six feet under. 
 Your father grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you in the direction of your porch, but you resist with all your might. “You can’t make me go back in there.”
“I am your father and you will listen to me,” he grunts, holding on tight.
“Daddy, I love him!” You scream as you yank your arm away from your father, your inner strength giving way. “If you can’t accept that, I guess I’ll just have to burn hell with him. Better than wasting another second here.”
You run toward Jake’s bike and sit behind him, cinching your arms around his waist. He smiles to himself, feeling the press of your chest to his back as he puts his helmet over his head. “Are you sure about this, angel?”
You nod furiously, not bothering to look back at your red-faced family. “More than I’ve ever been.”
All you focus on is his motorcycle rumbling to life before you speed away. Your hair blows in the wind as you both escape the horrified stares of the local vipers.
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You end up at a motel on the other side of town, far away from the scandal that’s surely rocking your small community by now. The deacon’s daughter running away with the bad boy next door? What a tragedy!
You run inside to miss the upcoming rain, both of you shivering from the barrage of pellets that did land on your skin. You settle onto the mattress as Jake drops the small amount of belongings he had in his possession on the dresser.
He turns to you with quiet concern, arms splayed out on the furniture as he looks at you, searching your face for any lingering doubt. “No regrets?”
You shake your head, exhausted but glad to be out of that house. “None at all.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief and sits down beside you on the bed, rubbing your thigh with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Your brows knit together, confusion pouring over you. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”
 You feel tears build at your eye ducts, your voice suddenly growing thick when you recall the scene from an hour ago. “I’m sorry my father was so horrible to you.”
“Hush, it’s okay,” he puts his other hand on your face. He kisses your lips tenderly and gracefully. How did nobody else but you see he possessed the most kind nature of anyone you’ve ever known?
Jake moves his head, his lips curving into the smile that always takes your common sense away. “I love you too, by the way.”
Your confession from earlier hits you like a heavy rock, your eyes going wide and your face turning pale. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to say it.”
“Then say it now,” Jake urges, your face resting gently between his fingers.
There’s no fear or pressure when the three words leave your lips, only the feeling of a weight lifting off of your chest. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun. I love you with my whole heart.”
His face lights up, the words seeming to set aglow something deep within him. The only right reaction seems to be in the form of his lips attaching to yours in a passionate kiss, your shared love creating a beautiful path forward for the both of you.
He whispers his next words so lightly, you almost assume the statement is a figment of your imagination. “Marry me.”
You feel your face contort into a mixture of disbelief and elation, needing to hear him say it again for it to truly resonate. “What?”
“Marry me,” he repeats, his smile stretching across his face. “Marry me now, or in three months from now, or whenever you want. Just say you will.”
You exhale a breath of astonishment, unsure if he knows how much you want to say yes, to make this as real as it sounds on his lips. He leaves your side with a kiss to your temple to grab something from his jacket. 
He comes back in record time, standing in front of you and twiddling the black box in both of his hands with anxious fingers. “I brought it with me to your house last night, I just didn’t know how to ask then. But I do now.”
Like in all the stories you’ve read and movies you’ve seen in your lifetime, he sinks down onto one knee before you. You place a hand over your mouth as he opens the box, a ring with an opal-shaped diamond cushioned in the center.
“Would you please do me the honor of being my wife?” Those words on his lips, visibly shaken from his own question, make a thousand butterflies flutter inside your chest.
Months ago, if you knew then you would end up here, from the edge of the sidewalk to now, you would not change a single moment. The world had been so gray before, you didn’t know what it was like to step in the sun until he came into your life. What other answer is there?
“Yes, yes, yes,” you respond, tears flooding your eyes as he shakily places the ring on your finger. It fits just right, the stone at the center sparkling in the darkness of the motel room.
You kiss Jake’s lips with all the force your body possesses, certain there’s no better future than right beside him.
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The feeling of the gold band around your finger makes Jake shudder as it touches his cock. Your body is nestled perfectly on top of his as you take what you can’t put in your mouth between your fingers.
He laps up your essence with his tongue, ecstatic to have his face covered in your juices and smothered if need be by your wet cunt. If people think wedding nights are magical, engagement nights have to be a step up.
“Fuck, Jaeyun, yes,” you roll your hips into his awaiting mouth, his tongue available for you to lay your slit onto. The expletive leaves your mouth like honey, the feeling fitting for such a dirty word.
He knows exactly how to make you fall apart and be put back together, and the thought of doing this for the rest of your life makes you want to cry again from the pure happiness inside your core.
Jake takes his lips off of your pussy and sits up. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he takes you into his lap on the bed and kisses you fiercely. You taste yourself on his tongue as he skillfully takes your breath away with his lips. When you part, he says, “Angel, I know we said we’d wait, but I don’t know how much longer I can handle not being inside of you.”
You whimper at his words and suddenly rock your center into the tip of his cock, making him groan in the process. “I mean—we’re just starting early, right?” 
Jake releases a joyous laugh and kisses you hungrily, his face in a constant state of ecstasy since you said “yes” hours ago. “Right.”
 The anticipation makes you even wetter, crawling to the head of the bed as Jake grabs a condom from the bedside table. If there was one thing he had promised, he swore he wouldn’t get you pregnant. Not yet, anyway.
He rolls the rubber over his cock before joining you on the bed, lining up perfectly with your center. He rubs his tip against your folds, biting his lip at how easily it gets coated in your essence. “Ready?”
You nod eagerly, a smirk filling the entire bottom half of your face.
He pushes the tip in, the pressure a foreign feeling you had never experienced before. It took time and practice to get used to the size of his fingers, but this is another level of fullness that takes your breath away.
Once Jake’s partially inside and gives you a moment to adjust, he asks, “Can I move?”
You nod your head, holding onto his shoulders for support as he begins to thrust inside of you. He loves to see his cock disappearing between your legs, your body eagerly taking him in and stretching itself out to accommodate him. He loves the way you whimper at the movement of his hips and the pleasure you’re receiving.
Better yet, he loves you. He loves all of you, from the nonsensical words you speak in your sleep to the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you get mad. You’re all his, and he’s grateful to be the only one you call yours.
“We may never leave this motel,” Jake says, his words breathy as he continues moving his hips. “I could stay inside of you for the rest of my life, angel.”
“I love you so much,” you say, inching your hand between your bodies to roll your clit between your fingers.
“I love you,” Jake says. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you like he wants to pour all of his emotions from his being into your soul, just so you know how deep his love for you goes.
It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful, you feel the swell of your release cresting over you like a tidal wave. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whisper, your mouth open wide from the moans and cries you cannot suppress.
Jake groans and slams his hips into you harder, filling you to the hilt repeatedly. “Come, angel. Come for me.”
You cry out as the orgasm takes hold of your body, your fingers working on their own accord on your clit as you fall off the edge.
Jake stills not a second later, releasing into the condom and taking the last remnants of his energy to thrust inside of you a few more times.
He pulls out and throws the rubber in a nearby trash can. His sweaty body clings to yours, hands rubbing up and down your arm tenderly as he kisses the curve of your shoulder.
You see the flash of your ring in the glow of the motel’s neon sign, and you think about how the night could not have gone any better.
Jake may be a bit reckless and not what you initially imagined for your future, but now that you have him, you wouldn’t give him up for anything. All the parts of you that stayed buried for so long have resurfaced because of him, and you could not be more grateful.
With your left hand a touch heavier than it was some hours ago, you fall asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the window and Jake’s rising and falling chest.
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You walk out of your mother’s house, happy to have made a visit with her before she ran off to do her morning errands.
What you’re not pleased to encounter is the same crowd of women huddled with their homemade fans and cups of lemonade. They weren’t there when you arrived a few hours ago.  Of course they show up when you have no chance of escaping them, like the vultures they are.
“Mrs. Sim,” Mrs. Choi says, her tone entirely made of stone with little warmth. “Pleasure to see you.”
Your new surname gives you indescribable amounts of happiness. It took your parents some time to get used to, but eventually, they realized you put your heart in the right place. Your father took his sweet time getting there, begrudgingly admitting a short time ago Jake is a very acceptable son-in-law, the turnaround of his perception of your husband complete.
You give the crotchety ringleader a fake smile and attempt to walk away, but Mrs. Lee interjects. “How’s your mister doing working at the church now?”
“Great,” you say, genuinely happy to talk about a topic you care for. “Jaeyun loves the kids. Little Yuna might actually be a guitar prodigy from what he’s told me.”
They all coo, practically synchronized in their sips of lemonade and fan flurries.
“Soon enough you’ll have one of your own, I’m sure,” Mrs. Choi remarks with sarcasm, her red-lipstick-stained front teeth on full display.
“Not too soon now,” Jake suddenly says, walking up the pathway to your mother’s house and taking you in by the waist. “My wife has to finish her Masters first. How else is she gonna start teaching at the community college?”
My wife. No matter how long it’s been since you officially got married in your church, that day a year ago forever ingrained in your memory, it still warms you to the bones hearing those words leave Jake’s lips.
The women all express signs of agreement, some nodding while others hum.
“We better get back home now, but you ladies have a nice day!” Jake bids them goodbye and walks you both down the stairs with his hand on the small of your back. Even if he were to be more than the perfect gentleman in front of them, they would still linger around with pesky eyes and constantly moving lips.
“They’re still betting we’re gonna crash and burn, aren’t they?” Jake whispers, teasing you with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
You shake your head. You fall more in love with him every day that passes, no matter what the people around you do or don’t see. They may have their opinions, but it won’t shake the foundation you’ve built. “Well, they’re sure to be disappointed if I have anything to say about it.”
Jake’s eyes widen, his expression humorous yet surprised. “Easy, angel. Don’t want to have to tear my wife off of a nosy wine mom.”
Your heart aches at his words, him fully aware of what two of them in particular do to you. “I love you.”
Jake grins, inching his face closer to yours. “I’d love nothing more than to kiss you right now, but what would everyone say?” He asks with a mock face of horror.
You shrug without much care, grinning. “Someone once told me ‘fuck everyone else.’ And right now I couldn’t agree more.”
Jake laughs before he places a gentle kiss to your lips, the sun radiating off of him in waves as he pulls you closer.
No matter what anyone in your small town has to say, your choices are yours; you’re perfectly happy with how your life has turned out whether they think so too or not. And you will always choose Sim Jaeyun, now and forever.
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@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss
𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊
@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators
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3K notes · View notes
motomamita · 3 months ago
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bestfriend!könig × female!reader
warnings: +18, smut, emotional manipulation, sex!
imagine being the only person who showed up to könig's birthday party.
it was just you and him, in his house, with a lot of drinks and food that he himself had bought to celebrate. the sound of the clock on the ceiling seemed to stun you and he remained dejected, with a half-drunk can of beer.
you knew that könig had invited more people, people who had pretended to be his friends throughout the semester to humiliate him on such an important day for him. you could see on his face how much he regretted having trusted them, and at the same time how grateful he was that at least you, his best friend, had shown up.
"come on kö, don't feel bad. we can have fun just the same, just us!"
apparently you were naive enough not to notice how weird könig was in general. he hardly talked to anyone, and when he did, he would make comments that were out of place and a bit offensive to others. but you couldn't blame him no matter how hard you tried and ignored your friends' warnings about him.
"what a shitty birthday.."
he murmured as you lit the candles on his birthday cake that you had baked especially for him.
"don't say that, come on, make a wish."
you moved his cake closer to him, letting the candlelight illuminate his masculine, scarred face and cold gaze.
"i don't think my wish will ever come true."
"what? tell me, maybe i can help you!"
upon hearing you, könig did not hesitate to tell you: he wanted to lose his damn virginity with you.
you hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what you had just heard. his eyes filled with tears that he didn’t try to hide and he looked into your eyes begging you to help him make his wish come true. what else could you do? his day was already disappointing enough without you leaving him alone with a huge erection in his pants. you had to help him.
in a matter of seconds you were lying on the table, your skirt pulled up to your waist and könig on top of you fucking you clumsily. his cock entered you roughly and without rhythm, in a very inexperienced way. some strands of his hair fell on your face and his eyes never stopped looking at you.
"you're the best friend any man could wish to have... your pussy feels so good."
könig clumsily grabbed your breasts over your clothes and pinched your nipples. you moaned in pain but didn't try to run away or push him away, you wanted his birthday to end well.
it only took a couple of deep, slow thrusts for könig to end up inside you, moaning your name and kissing your mouth and face. you hugged him by the shoulders, pulling him towards you and letting him sob with pleasure on your neck.
"this is the best birthday of my entire life."
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xazse · 2 months ago
Note
Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji
The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.
Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character
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Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.
Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader
Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!
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You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.
In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.
Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.
You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.
And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.
You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.
You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.
“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.
Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.
“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.
He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.
After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.
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You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.
They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.
Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.
With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.
Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.
Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.
You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.
You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.
When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.
“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.
“You seen me yesterday Toru.”
Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.
It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.
He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.
He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.
He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.
Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.
He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.
You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.
You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.
He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.
The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.
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You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.
Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.
He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.
The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.
A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.
You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.
His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.
He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.
You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.
He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.
You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.
When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.
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jeo9n · 2 months ago
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INSTAGRAM
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you’ve been texting jungkook on instagram non stop ever since he opened his account as a joke. but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually text you back.
౨ৎ
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, future smut
warnings: none
wordcount: 2k
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you get woken up by your alarm at exactly 6am. like everyday, you open your eyes and the first thing you do is check your phone. catching up with everything that happened while you were asleep. texting your friends back that live in a different time zone than you.
you’re tired but you get out of bed anyway. you have to get ready for work. even if your body is screaming for you to stay in bed.
the first thing you do is make your bed so it prevents from laying back down. you already took a shower yesterday night, which you thank yourself as it saves you time this morning. so all you have to do is brush your teeth and wash your face.
when you’re done with that you make yourself a coffee and start to get dressed. you keep your outfit simple with some baggy jeans and a black long sleeve top because you’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. you always make sure to never leave the house without spraying perfume everywhere on your body. you forgot to but some on one day as you were running late, only noticing when you were already at work and someone might say it’s stupid but you didn’t feel good that day, you didn’t feel like yourself without your sweet perfume. you love to smell good, you love getting compliments on your scent, you love people smelling you before they even see you.
ever since that you never forgot to put perfume on again, but carrying around a travel size bottle of your favorite perfume in your bag just in case.
you pet your cats goodbye one last time before you leave your apartment. you hate leaving them home alone but thankfully they have each other so they are not really "alone" but it still hurts you.
you’re already on the way to the small coffee shop that you work at , as you remember you haven’t texted your boyfriend (jungkook) a good morning text yet. so you pull your phone at your pocket and text him right away. the chat is filled with hundreds of your messages texting him random stuff about how your day was and occasionally sending him some memes and reels you thought were funny.
y/n: good morning jungkoookkk!!
y/n: i’m on my way to work.
y/n: you’re probably asleep but have a good day.
you smile to yourself as you double text him. your not texting him in hopes to get a text back, cause that would be crazy. i mean, that guys is crazy famous of course he’s not going to text me back. you just think it’s funny, although sometimes you think it’s actually kinda weird and you should probably stop, but you never actually do.
as you open the door to your workplace you’re instantly greeted with the delicious smell of coffee, which reminds you, you still have your empty cup of coffee in your hands which you forgot to throw away. your coworker greets you good morning as she looks up from behind the counter.
"good morning. leslie." you greet back as you throw your coffee away. "ugh i really don’t feel like working today." you tell her, while taking of your jacket. she laughs and agrees with you.
"girl, i literally stayed up all night binge watching true crime documentaries." she tells me. "look at my eye bags! i can’t even cover them up with makeup." she says as she lifts up her hand to show me her dark eye bags. "but i guess it’s my own fault. i knew i should’ve turned the tv off after the first episode." she says in frustration and it makes me laugh. i can totally relate to her. you tell yourself one more episode and suddenly the sun comes up and you finished the whole show, wondering where the time went.
happened to me one too many times.
"yea…" you say, tying your apron at you back. "been there, done that." and she smiles softly in response. "should i make you a coffee? cause you really look like you need one." you tell her as you point to your eye bags, mocking her.
she laughs and kicks you jokingly "yes please! make it extra strong."
"will do." you say in a laugh, already on your way to the coffee machine. it’s definitely gonna be a long day for leslie today.
you put the coffee down carefully, not trying to spill the hot coffee all over the counter. "here you go, extra strong for you, your highness. " you bow to her jokingly while laughing like an idiot.
"you’re so stupid." she laughs with you, bringing the coffee up to her lips, trying to take a sip.
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you worked a little longer today as usual since it was busy. but you don’t mind. working extra hours means extra money and you would never complain about that.
you take you shoes off and wash your hands as soon as you get home. after that you change into more comfy close just some sweatpants and hoodie and you already feel way better. you walk to your kitchen to feed your cats, who are acting like you leave them out to starve and never feed them. after your done with that you wash your hands again and make yourself something to eat since you only had breakfast today. you decide for pizza today as it doesn’t take long to be ready. you shove it into the oven and while you wait you brows through your phone. you lean against the counter and watch some tiktok’s to make to the time go by faster.
the pizza is done in under 20 times. thankfully. you cannot wait longer or else your stomach is gonna start eating itself. you sit down on your couch with your pizza on your lap. you try to take a bite but it’s still too hot so start browsing through netflix instead to find something to watch while your eating. when you find something your pizza has cooled down already so you start eating.
after your done, you get up and do the dishes right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. after that you decide to take a bath since you haven’t done that in a while and after that hectic day today you really need it.
the warm water hugs your body as you lay down in your bathtub. you feel your body start to relax enjoying the temperature of the water. your eyes are closed as you hear the notification sound from your phone, but you ignore it. you feel so comfortable right now you don’t want to move. so you stay put, enjoying this bath maybe a little too much.
after like twenty minutes you start to get bored and the water has gone cold, so you decide it’s time to get out. you quickly wash your body and get out. you do you skincare and brush your teeth while your body dries, after that you put some vanilla bodylotion on, quickly change into your pyjamas and head to bed, your cats joining you seconds after. one sleeps on top the pillow next to you while the one sleeps between your legs.
you go to grab your phone from your nightstand, checking it one last time before you go to sleep. your just scrolling trough your notifications not thinking anything by it. you stop at one particular notification and your hearts starts to beat faster. sitting straight in your bed, rubbing your eyes to make sure your seeing correctly. you cannot believe what you’re seeing.
jeon jungkook has fucking texted you back.
not only once. he double texted you back.
is this really happening right now?
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: woww! how long have you been texting me for ? there are like a thousand messages lol
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i hope you had good day at work! i just woke up.
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i saw your message and there are so many. i felt bad so i texted back. looked like your were talking to yourself haha.
wait. i cannot believes this. am i dreaming?
your hands shake and you’re not sure what to text back. should i even text back? would he text back again?
i take a deep breath. my head is going crazy right now.
after you collected yourself , you text back.
y/n: lol this is awkward.
y/n: i wasn’t thinking you would actually text back.🫣
y/n: i hope my message weren’t bothering you or anything.
you struggle sending the message back cause your hands won’t stop shaking. but can you blame me? the love of my life just texting me back and my stupid ass ignored it because of that stupid bath i took.
i bite on my nails nervously, my heart is beating so fast it might jump out of my chest at any minute.
i wait for an answer back, which is stupid, i know.
just because he texted me back one time doesn’t mean he’s going to do it again.
you know he won’t. but still, you wait.
you wait for like an hour until you realize he’s actually not responding anymore so you decide to go sleep. or try to go to sleep i should say, since your mind won’t stop thinking about what had just happened.
after a while you eventually fall asleep after what felt like hours.
the next morning you get woken up again by your alarm. this time you grab your phone a little faster than usual. scrolling through your notifications with tired but curious eyes.
you eyes widen as you find his notification again.
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: haha no, you don’t bother me. i read through your messages last night.
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: you’re funny haha.
abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: judging by the time i usually get the first message from you, i should get a message soon right?
you read the last text and it says sent an hour ago.
okay wait. he texted again? and he thinks i’m funny?
im definitely dreaming because there is no way that this is fucking happening.
your thumbs moves fast as you reply to him.
y/n: no way!!!
y/n: am i dreaming?? please tell me im not
y/n: is this really jungkook?
y/n: no, it can’t be
y/n: is someone playing with me?
someone definitely must be playing with you. because what do you mean jeon jungkook texted me back not one, but twice?
you actually cannot believe it yourself. this is crazy.
you wait a little bit to see if he’ll respond again. but nothing comes so you start getting ready for work.
how am i going get through work today, when all i can think about is him. you think to yourself.
~~~~
i hope you enjoy this chapter because im definitely excited about this fanficton ahhh
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monsterfuckerconfessions · 10 months ago
Note
The idea of being fucked by ghosts ngh
Imagine you just moved into a new house. The AC is busted which sucks when it's hot as fuck out but hey who are you to complain when it was so suspiciously cheap?
Because of aforementioned heat, the only way you can comfortably fall asleep is naked. As you lay down for bed that night, you get an odd feeling. Too exhausted from the big move, you chalk it up to the anxiety of sleeping in a new home and go to sleep.
You're having a wonderful dream about your favorite fantasy when suddenly you're awoken by the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced. You have no time to acclimate to what's going on- you're immediately made aware of how your body is being violently bounced- no, fucked against the headboard of your bed.
Your legs are being held up by god knows what- something you try to discern when your gaze snaps to between your legs only to see nothing there except your embarrassingly wet cunt. The mirror at the foot of the bed, which you never got around to moving, confirms what you're trying to wrap your mind around in a mix of both fear and arousal: you're being fucked by something invisible.
A few more thrusts of the massive force inside of you has you crying out, the pleasure overwhelming- but your moans are cut short by another invisible presence forcing itself into your open mouth.
Drool and tears stream down your face as you gag and get pounded between two beings you can't see. You're quickly brought to the edge of another orgasm when suddenly both invisible masses rip free of you, leaving you coughing and gaped.
You're about to whine until you're manhandled into a new position. Your ghostly assailants waste no time, stuffing you full once more- except this time there's a third in your ass now, too. Your new otherworldly friends use you over and over all night, until you reach an orgasm so good that you pass out.
When you wake up in the morning, there's no evidence that the events of last night were anything more than the most erotic dream you've ever dreamt- though it is quite embarrassing to have squirted in your sleep..
Later that day, you're just out and about running a few necessary errands when you feel something prodding at your clothed cunt. You freeze, looking around only to find you're seated in the back of the bus alone. You brush it off as just your body being weird and readjust how you're sitting.
A few minutes go by, and the prodding is back- albeit more insistent. You're just about to get up and check under you to see if you're sitting on anything when you feel something slam into your defenseless cunt.
Involuntarily, you let out a moan. Your gratitude for the bus being empty doesnt last long, however- as it reaches the next stop and a dozen or so people flood in. All the while, your ghost is still fucking up into you with the force of a freight train.
It's a Herculean task to pretend as if your pussy isn't being ruthlessly pounded into oblivion. You're biting your lip so hard you've made it bleed- and you're gripping the seat besides you so tightly that your knuckles have turned white.
At one point, you try pressing all your weight down in order to stop yourself from bouncing on the massive cock inside of you, but the phantom grip on your hips just tightens and begins using you as a fleshlight.
The ghosts don't care if you're embarrassed, or overstimulated. They're going to fuck you wherever they want, whenever they want, for as long as it takes to satisfy them. You'll accept the job of being their free use slut, eventually. You know you love it.
.
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madebycloud · 3 months ago
Text
You're here that's the thing
jinx/powder x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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summary: home isn't a four walls and a roof nor the material things that fill in it. it's the warmth in jinx's eyes whenever she smiles at you, it's the little hands clinging to your shirt as they cross the street. home is right here. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: FLUFF!! domestic ig, vulnerability (???), slight angsty at the end but happy ending <3 words: 5.5k notes: i'm glad nothing bad happened at the ending and they all live happily ever after :D
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You're chowing down on a steaming bowl of seafood at Jericho's. Every bite is a savory delight, justifying your claim that this is Zaun's finest eatery. 
A hooded figure quietly slides into the seat beside you, revealing familiar blue hair when they pull their hood back. Unfazed, you continue eating.
“Bad day?” you say, and the blue-haired person helps themselves to a seafood from your bowl without a word.
Life in Zaun is tough, especially after Silco's death, leaving room for chem barons to fight for power. What's new?
Then, a kid catches your eye. You nudge Jinx. “Who's that?” You nod at the kid in the far corner. 
Jinx, casually munching on your seafood, just shrugs, “Dunno. She's been following me.”
You stop eating and look over at the young girl who's been staring at you both, squinting at her as your gaze shifts back to Jinx. She takes notice of your questioning look and quickly says, “She's not mine,” before taking another bite of seafood.
You roll your eyes at Jinx and then turn to the kid. “You hungry, kiddo?” you call out, gesturing towards the seat beside you.
She hops up onto the stool, though it's a bit high for her and you help her up. You order her a bowl of seafood like you and Jinx were having. She begins eating, her hands stuffing her face.
“So, kid, where's your parents, guardians? Shouldn't you be with them?” But her silence persists, her big, curious eyes locked onto yours.
You and Jinx finish your food and pay Jericho, walking out into the bustling lanes with the young girl in tow. Turning to Jinx, you shrug. “Can she stay with us?” 
Jinx looks at the child and back at you. “Do we even have a room for her?”
Weighing your options, you consider the practical aspect. The answer is likely a ‘no’, but with the environment of Zaun, leaving a child alone on the streets seems far from safe.
“She could use your room,” you suggest, glancing ahead. “I mean, you found her first.”
But Jinx isn't having it. “Nah, you're the one who brought it up, so it's your room.”
You and your parents once owned a house. Thanks to the all and mighty Piltover enforcers who played a role in your parents' disappearance, leaving the house unoccupied. Seeing an opportunity, you claimed the house, not only for yourself but also for your close friend who, without it, would have nowhere to sleep comfortably.
“It's my house.”
“Our house,” she corrects, smirking. “Considering most of the stuff there comes from me, it's not just yours. So that means–”
“By ‘comes from you,’ do you mean the stuff you've stolen?” Your brow furrows as you stop in your tracks, planting your hands on your hips as you stare at her.
Jinx shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk still present. “Finders keepers.”
You sigh, knowing you're not winning this argument, especially not in the middle of the street with people starting to watch. “Fine,” you relent. “She can sleep in my room. I'll take the couch.”
You crouch down to meet the kid's gaze, Jinx standing beside you with her arms crossed. “What's your name, little one?” you ask, but the child remains wordless, those big eyes staring back at you.
You glance at Jinx for help, but she's already thinking of names. “How about Pompom?”
The kid wrinkles her nose at the idea.
“Or maybe Pinky?” Jinx continues, grinning. “Or Sparkles!”
“How about ‘Isha’?” you suggest.
The moment the name leaves your lips, the child's eyes light up.
“Isha it is then.”
Jinx, a bit pouty, muttering under her breath, “She likes ‘Isha’ more, huh? Figures, it came from you.”
“What? It's a nice name,” you raise an eyebrow at her.
“Yeah, whatever.” She turns to Isha, poking the girl on the nose. “Well, Isha, you're stuck with us now.”
Isha's eyes dart between you and Jinx. “More like we're the ones who are stuck with her,” you reply, chuckling, as you playfully ruffle the girl's hair.
It's been a full month since Isha started living under the same roof.  You catch Jinx making her hold a gun, teaching her how to shoot.
You scoff, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, Jinx?”
Both Jinx and Isha look up at you, equally undeterred. “What? It's a fake gun,” Jinx defends herself.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “That's not the point, Jinx. She's just a kid.”
“Pft, ‘just’ a kid.” Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly not understanding your concern. “It's harmless, I promise. Just a little fun.”
“If you're looking for something fun…” You reach into your bag and pull out a coloring book and colored markers. “I found these in the lanes,” you explain, offering the items to Isha. “Much better than play-shooting,” you suggest, giving a pointed look to Jinx before she can protest.
She watches as Isha's face lights up, her attention quickly shifting to the coloring book and markers. “But…” Jinx starts. 
“No buts, Jinx. She's coloring now.”
Jinx lets out a sigh, clearly dissatisfied, but she doesn't protest further. She pouts, leaning back against a wall as she watches Isha happily coloring in.
You join Isha, sitting next to her. Her young hands grip the markers tightly as she fills the pages with colors.
“Making something nice?” you ask, peering over her shoulder to see her work.
Isha nods, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she carefully adds some color. She glances at you, offering a shy smile before returning to her drawing.
Once Isha is finished with her drawing, she proudly holds it up for you and Jinx to see. The drawing shows three stick figures on a bright blue sky. The two tallest figures, with one that has what looks like braids, are holding hands with the small one in the middle. The three figures smile under the sun.
“Wow, look at that! It's us, all together.”
 Jinx, though reluctant at first, can't help but crack a smile too.
She leans in closer, “Why are my eyes so big?” She snickers, pointing at the comically large eyes drawn on her figure.
You laugh along with Jinx, pointing to a comical squiggly line drawn below your feet in the picture. “And what's that supposed to be, hm?” Isha giggles, a blush creeping up her face.
“It's your shadow, duh,” Jinx quips back. 
“In that case, my shadow looks like it ate too much and grew extra limbs.”
“Well, if your shadow's a glutton, mine's got tentacles.” She points to her shadow drawing, which indeed looks like it has several wriggly appendages attached to it.
“You know, I think this is wall-worthy,” you grin, holding up the drawing. “What do you think, Isha? Do you want to put this on the wall?”
You turn to Isha, who nods excitedly, clapping her hands together. 
You hand the drawing to Isha, who eagerly takes it to the wall. You follow her, lifting her up slightly so she can stick the drawing against the wall. She smooths out any wrinkles and carefully adjusts it until she's satisfied.
“Ta-da!” you say, as the drawing now has a permanent place of honor on the walll.
“Not too shabby, squirt”. She glances at the drawing again, and then her gaze shifts towards Isha. For a moment, a soft expression appears in her eyes. “Who knows? Maybe one day we'll see this piece in a Piltover's museum, valued at a million golden hexes.” 
“Only a million? I think it's worth a lot more. Maybe we should start an auction right here and now.”
Isha giggles, her small fingers tracing the colors on her drawing again.
“Alright, alright, don't go getting ideas. We don't need some fancy Piltie art collector trying to buy this and hang it in their mansion.”
“Come on, Jinx.” You nudge her. “Don't you think it'd be hilarious to see this hanging in some fancy mansion surrounded by all those fancy Piltover paintings? Maybe we should get Isha to paint more of this and turn this whole place into a gallery.”
You meant ‘place’ not your face.
Laying down on the couch, you squint your eyes open as you feel a moist sensation along your face. When your vision clears, you see Isha, giggling, marker in hand, and running away as fast as her legs can carry her. 
“Hey!” You sit up, a chuckle rising in your throat. “You little rascal, come here!” 
The sound of a door opening makes you pause. Turning, you see Jinx standing there, half-asleep and clearly irritated.
“What the hell is going on here?” she grumbles, rubbing her eyes.
A snicker escapes Isha's lips.
“Looks like you've got a new makeup look, Jinx.”
“What?” she asks, her voice still groggy from sleep.
Silence.
Jinx looks at your face. Isha's hand. Finally placing her own hand on her face. Wet mark on her face. Smear of color on her hand.
“Isha.”
You and Jinx exchange a glance. Grins matching hers. Without hesitation, you both rush after Isha, who breaks into a run.
Just as she turns a corner, you quickly change direction and outstretch your hands, successfully scooping her up into your arms and spinning her around, her hands grasping at your shirt and arms around your neck as she continues to giggle.
While still holding Isha, you see Jinx's eyes as her hand darts towards a nearby marker and begins to draw on Isha's face. 
“Hold still, you little gremlin!” Jinx says, struggling to keep her marker strokes even while Isha wiggles and giggles. She manages to add a few squiggles and dots before Isha's laughter becomes uncontrollable, disrupting any further attempts at ‘decorating’.
“Come on, lemme finish it.” A few more ink-blots make their way onto the girl's face before she's set down. “Ta-da!” Jinx declares, wiping her hands on her pants. 
Isha, still giggling, runs to the nearest mirror, who is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she takes in her reflection. She turns her head from side to side, admiring her new ‘makeover’ from Jinx.
Feeling a tingle in your chest, you steal a glance at Jinx, watching her smile at Isha. 
Idiot, you silently scold yourself.
But your lips still curve into a small smile. 
Damn it, you silently curse to yourself, hoping Jinx didn't notice you staring at her with that expression written all over your face.
But Isha doesn't miss that. She looks between you and Jinx, the gears in her young mind turning, and a sly grin slowly spreads across her face.
Oh. She knows something that you'd prefer to keep hidden.
Isha's been down with a cold.
Today, you made her a bowl of porridge. Jinx volunteered to help.
You stand at the stove, stirring the simmering porridge, with Jinx by your side, carefully cutting up some fresh fruit to mix into the meal. You carefully ladle the porridge into a bowl, checking to make sure it's just the right temperature for Isha's sore throat.
You glance down at the bowl, satisfied with the consistency and temperature, before moving it onto a tray along with a spoon, a glass of water, and the bowl of fruit.
You head towards Isha's room, with Jinx following close behind. You can hear the sound of soft coughing coming from inside, along with the rustle of blankets.
Pushing open the door gently, you enter the room to find Isha sitting up in her bed, her blankets piled around her. Her face is flushed from the fever, and she looks tired, but her eyes light up when she sees the tray in your hands.
“Here's your porridge,” you say softly, setting it down on the bedside table. 
Jinx moves to the other side of the bed, plopping down next to Isha and gently placing a cool hand against her forehead. “You're still a bit warm.”
Isha nods weakly, trying to suppress a cough.
“But that porridge should help,” you add, settling on the edge of the bed and offering the bowl to Isha. “Slow sips, okay? Don't want you getting a tummy ache on top of everything else.”
Isha accepts the bowl and sips the porridge carefully. 
“There you go.” You smile, watching as Isha continues eating. Jinx grabs the glass of water, holding it up to Isha's lips once she's taken a few spoonfuls.
Once she's done, Jinx continues to check on her, fluffing her pillows, adjusting the blankets, and giving her the occasional pat on the head.
It's late evening. 
Jinx sits cross-legged on the floor, her back resting against the footboard of the bed where Isha is lying down. The little girl's eyes are focused on Jinx, her hands covering her face partially as if trying to stay up a bit longer.
Jinx tells a story she learned from Vander, one that he used to tell her when she was a child. A story about miners getting stuck in a mine and rescued by a mysterious, wisp-like woman that guided them to safety.
When Jinx finishes the story, she glances at Isha, expecting her to be asleep by now. Instead, she lies there and watches Jinx.
Peeking through the door, you expect to find Isha asleep, but she is still wide awake. Jinx looks like she's wracking her brain to think of more stories, still determined to get the little girl to sleep.
A chuckle escapes your lips as you settle down on the floor next to Jinx. “She's not tired yet, huh?” you whisper to Jinx. 
“No, not yet,” she replies. “I've run out of stories to tell and she doesn't seem even a bit sleepy.”
“She's just like you.”
“Hush,” she says, trying to suppress a smile. “I'm not the one keeping her awake right now.” She turns back to Isha, who is still awake and watching both of you.
“Well, neither of us are helping,” you point out, looking at the little girl who's staring at you both. “Isha, it's time for bed. You need to close your eyes and sleep.”
Isha pouts, clearly not wanting to go to sleep just yet. She looks at Jinx and then at you, her eyes pleading for another story. 
“Come on, kid,” Jinx says. “It's well past your bedtime. No more stories.”
Isha's pout deepens, her bottom lip jutting out stubbornly.
You stand up from the floor, walking over to a nearby bookshelf where you keep various children's books and comics. After a quick rummage, you find a colorful comic book that should interest Isha.
You return to the bed, carrying the comic book, and sit down next to Jinx again. Isha leans forward, her eyes immediately drawn to the book in your hands.
“Found one,” you say, holding up the comic book for the little girl to see. Her eyes light up when she recognizes the vibrant cover. 
Flipping open the comic book to the first page, you begin reading aloud about a group of animals in a forest. Isha listens intently, snuggled up in bed, her eyes darting between the images and your face as you read the story.
“Every day, these animals would wake up early,” you read, pointing to the drawing of the animals waking up and stretching. “Some would eat breakfast, some went to play, and some went to search for food.”
“One particularly lazy squirrel woke up late.” You turn over the page to reveal a picture of a sleepy little squirrel yawning and rubbing his eyes as the other animals were already out of their nests.
“By the time he woke up, all the nuts were already gone.” You flip over the page again to reveal an image of the squirrel, now wide awake, frantically searching for something to eat but finding nothing but empty trees and bushes.
“The squirrel was shocked and saddened that the nuts had run. But then,” you change your tone dramatically, “one of the rabbits heard the squirrel's cries and decided to help him!”
You turn the page again. This time, the picture shows the rabbit coming up to the squirrel, a nut in his paw. “The rabbit, seeing the squirrel's plight, decided to share his own breakfast with him.”
“The squirrel was delighted and grateful,” you read, and you turn the page to show an image of the squirrel happily sharing the nut with the rabbit. “The two of them ate and ate together, until their tummies were full and they fell asleep in a heap on the forest floor!”
You glance up from the book and see that Isha has finally fallen asleep. Her small head is now lying on her pillow and a smile graces her lips, as if she were dreaming about the animals from the comic book.
You close the comic book and set it down, but then there's a weight on your shoulder. 
Looking to the side, you see Jinx, who has fallen asleep. Her head rests on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your neck. Her eyes closed. Her mouth slightly open, softly snoring.
Still as a statue. 
You find yourself staring at the soft curtain of blue hair, your fingers itching to reach out and push it aside. 
But you don't. You can't. You don't want to wake her up. Don't move. 
It would be a small action, but you know that it might wake her up, and the last thing you want is to deal with a grumpy face and her snarky comment. 
But your hand moves as if it has a mind of its own. Inch by inch, your fingers close in until they make contact with her hair, brushing it back over her ear. 
Jinx lets out a sigh, her head leaning into your hand as if aching for your touch.
Her face, now with her bangs brushed aside, shows her features—so fine, so distinctly her.
Your eyes trace her face. You want to hold her in a way that you'll remember forever. You want to know her in every way possible, to learn every inch of her, to understand every thought and feeling she's ever had.
Her arms are the only chains you'd gladly wear. Her eyes in which you'd forever be lost. Her smile is the one you can never say no to. Her voice is the song that you could listen to for hours.
You wonder if she would lean into your touch, if she would arch her head into your palm. Would she let you caress her face, your fingers tracing the slope of her jaw and the curve of her cheek? Or would she pull back, pushing you away?
But as quickly as it began, it ended.
You pull your hand away. Your fingers clenching into a fist and returning to your lap. The memory of her hair against your skin remains, burning at the edges of your thoughts.
Then Jinx slowly stirs from her sleep. She lifts her head from your shoulder, her heavy-lidded eyes meeting yours, then your mouth, then back to your eyes again.
You saw her throat move. Are you hallucinating? Is it just your imagination? You can't tell for sure. You wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you. Your thoughts are fogged by the way she's looking at you.
Her eyes linger on your face, tracing every contour, every feature.
Your heart is in your throat. You can hear it pulsing in your ears. You can feel your palms getting sweaty. You try to hold her gaze, but your own eyes are drawn to her lips, soft and slightly parted.
Finally, Jinx breaks the silence. “You're staring,” she murmurs.
You blink, her words snapping you out of your trance. “I–” you start to respond, then realize how stupid and obvious it sounded. “Just making sure you didn't drool on me.”
She chuckles, her hand pushing your face away from hers. 
“Hey!” you say, putting a palm to your face.
You watch as Jinx stands up, heading towards the door, opening it slightly, and pausing to look back at you. 
“Good night,” she says, eyes lingering on yours for a moment.
“Night, Jinx,” you reply, one hand still resting on your face.
You catch a glimpse of a smile forming on her lips as she disappears through the door, leaving you sitting there with a palm still on your cheek.
You hear a soft, barely suppressed giggle coming from Isha's bed. Confused, you turn to look at her, only to find her looking at you with a wide grin. 
“Isha,” you say, surprised, “I thought you were asleep!”
“You could have warned me,” Sevika grumbles. Isha continues to focus on coloring her hat.
“Fat chance,” Jinx responds, turning to face Sevika. “About what?”
Sevika glares at her, obviously displeased. “Your stunt at the checkpoint.”
“No idea what you're babbling about.”
“That wasn't you?” She scoffs. 
Jinx pauses, realization crossing her face. She glances at Isha with a knowing look, noticing the smirk on the child's face.
The conversation with Sevika continues, with Jinx growing more and more restless as it does. Once the discussion is over, Jinx rises from her spot. “I gotta go bother someone,” she says, before walking out.
You notice the look on Isha's face. Disappointment.
“Let's go, Isha,” you say, already grabbing a bat and some small balls. You don’t wait for a response, signaling for her to follow as you head to the door.
It's late, the sun having set and the moon now high in the sky. You and Isha had spent the previous hours playing, but Jinx still hasn't returned. Concerned, the two of you look for her.
Isha rides on your shoulder, her small hands gripping your hair. She looks at the surroundings for any sign of Jinx. 
After some time walking and climbing, you end up on a rooftop. You both climb carefully, making sure not to fall.
Finally, when perched on the edge, you spot Jinx. She's sitting with her knees against her chest, looking out at Piltover.
You gently place Isha down on the rooftop, giving her a subtle nudge, gesturing towards Jinx. Isha catches your cue, nodding quietly and slowly approaches Jinx.
Isha carefully settled herself down beside her. Her legs dangling off the ledge of the rooftop.
You take a seat on the other side of Isha, settling down with a soft rustle of fabric. 
Jinx continues to stare out at the city, her chin resting on her folded arms. “You guys found me, huh?”
Isha shifts her position, moving closer. You notice that she's looking up at Jinx, her small head resting against her arm.
Jinx glances at the child. She reaches over to ruffle Isha's hair affectionately.
“Couldn't stay away.”
“Yeah,” she mutters, “I guess you two are pretty stubborn.”
You reposition yourself, shifting your body so that you can lean back and rest a hand on the cold, gritty rooftop.
Jinx moves herself into a more relaxed position, leaning back and placing her hand on the rooftop next to yours. With her other hand, she pats at Isha, gesturing for the child to lay down.
Isha obliges, her small body now sprawled out across Jinx's lap. She fidgets a bit, clearly beginning to tire.
Watching over the city below while the moon hangs low in the night sky, a familiar touch breaks the silence, fingertips seeking yours.
There's a gentle pressure, a gentle caress, that causes your hand to twitch involuntarily, yet you don't pull away.
Her hand rests on top of yours, claiming its place as if it were always meant to be there. Jinx's fingers trace patterns across the back of your hand, like a secret language only she understands. 
“Your hands are cold,” she continues tracing lazy circles with the pads of her fingers.
You hadn't even realized how cold your hand had felt until she pointed it out, and now it seems to be burning under her touch.
“Ever thought about wearing gloves?” 
“Gloves?” you repeat, finding your own voice now. 
“Hm, I guess not.” 
Her fingers suddenly stop their tracing, and for a moment, you feel disappointed. But she quickly resumes, her thumb brushing over your wrist, the pulse point.
Jinx glances up at you, a smirk on her lips. “Your pulse is racing. Am I making you nervous?”
“No,” you say, though the speed of your pulse likely betrays your words.
“Uh huh. You're a terrible liar.” She continues to hold your wrist, thumb now drumming a slow, steady rhythm against your pulse point. “Relax. I don't bite... much.”
You try to calm your racing heartbeat, she's making it difficult. “I'm relaxed.”
Isha shifts in Jinx's lap, her body stirring slightly. Both you and Jinx turning your attention towards the girl. 
Jinx lifts her free hand and pats Isha's head reassuringly. Her touch is soft and careful, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl.
With Isha settled, Jinx turns her attention back to you. She still hasn't let go of your wrist, her fingers now massaging little circles into your skin. “You're awfully tense for someone who's ‘relaxed’.”
She studies you for a moment, her eyes roaming your face, then she suddenly releases your hand. The sudden absence of her touch feels like a loss.
Jinx sits back, creating a bit of space between the two of you. 
“What's on your mind?”
“Just thinking.”
You frown, frustrated by her vague response. “About what?”
“About you,” she answers.
Her reply catches you off guard. You feel your cheeks warm, and you mentally scold yourself. Why is she having this effect on you?
“Me?” you ask, trying to remain calm.
Jinx glances down at the sleeping Isha, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, and Isha,” she says, her hand absently playing with the child's hair. Her eyes then dart back to you. “Mostly you, though.” 
“Uh, me?” you repeat, mentally cursing yourself for sounding like a parrot.
Jinx hums, still absently playing with Isha’s hair. 
“What... what about us?”
Jinx doesn't respond right away. Her gaze flicks between you and the sleeping child, contemplating something.
“I've got a habit of bringing trouble wherever I go.” She turns to you. “I just-” she begins. “I don't want anything bad to happen to either of you... because of me.”
Her eyes search yours before she looks down at Isha. “I'm not sure what I'd do if something happened to you… either of you.” She pauses. “I care too much,” she blurts out, looking back up at you. “And honestly, it scares me.” You can see her shoulders tense, struggling to find the right words. “I don't want to mess everything up. Everyone I've ever cared about has gotten hurt by me, or because of me.”
You ache to pull her into your arms, to soothe the worries that are weighing on her shoulders. It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to. “No, no, I'm not going anywhere. Neither is Isha.”
“You don't know what could happen.”
“Yes, I do,” you murmur. “I know there's a chance we might end up hurt. Or worse.” You take a deep breath, holding her gaze steady with yours. “But that's a risk I'm willing to take,” you continue. “Because being with you, right now, is worth it.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but you cut her off. “No. No more talking. You've said what you need to say. Now let me say what I need to say.”
Eyes never leaving hers, you reach out slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted to. But she doesn't, and your fingers find their way to her cheek, gently cupping her face.
“I care about you too,” you murmur, your thumb tracing a path over her cheekbone. “I care about the person you are, not just the person you think you are. I see the good in you, the good that you struggle to see in yourself.”
Her lips part, as if to utter another protest, but you press a finger to her mouth to silence her. “Let me speak. I'm not done yet.”
“You're afraid,” you continue. “You're terrified of the possibility of me or Isha getting hurt. I understand. But you need to realize,” you pause, your fingers moving from her mouth to her chin, tilting it up so that she's looking you fully in the eye.
“You're not a curse,” you say. “You're not a jinx. Bad things happen, but that doesn't mean it's your fault. It's not your fault—” 
“I know.” She trembles under your touch. Her eyes glisten. 
“No, listen to me. It's not your fault.”
“I know.” Despite her best efforts, the dam is beginning to break. 
“It's not your fault,” you repeat. A single tear manages to escape, trickling down her cheek and into your palm. “You were just a child.”
“But I should have known. I should have—They're gone because of me. It's my fault.”
“No, no, no, it's not your fault. You were just a child. You were doing what you thought was the best to help them, to protect them.” You wipe the tear away with your thumb, your heart aching for her. You can see the battle she's fighting within herself, and it kills you that you can't do more. 
“You are not defined by your past, by your mistakes,” you continue, your hand still on her cheek, feeling the tremble as she struggles to hold back her tears. “You are so much more than that.”
“You are loved.” Your fingers trace her jawline, before moving slowly upwards to her temple. “By me, by Isha. And by many more people than you realize.” For perhaps the first time, Jinx lets herself break. She leans into your touch, her cheek pressing against your palm. Her eyes never leave yours, seeking solace, reassurance. She grips your wrists weakly, her hands trembling. “It's okay, I'm right here.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” you murmur. “No matter what happens, you hear me? I'm here to stay. We're here to stay. You're stuck with us.”
Slowly, the tears begin to subside. Her breathing steadies. Her body calming down.
You let your fingers slowly shift from her tear stained cheeks to her hair, playing with the strands. “I'll do everything in my power to keep both of you safe.” Your hands move down to her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze.
“I'm not some damsel in distress,” she mutters. 
You laugh, leaning back on your hands. “I know you're not,” you assure her. “You'd probably kick my ass if I tried to treat you like one. But even the toughest people need someone to have their backs, right?”
Jinx huffs, though you can see the edges of a smile on her face. “That's a cheesy line.” 
“Maybe,” you admit. “But it's still true. You don't have to face everything alone.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, her hand resuming its gentle stroking of Isha’s hair. “You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?”
“And yet?”
Jinx snorts. “And yet somehow I tolerate you.”
Sensing the change in atmosphere, Isha mumbles incoherently, shifting slightly.
“Looks like someone's stirring,” Jinx coos.
With one final pat on Jinx's shoulder, you withdraw your hand, silently communicating that the moment is over, for now.
Her shoulders tense at the loss of your touch, disappointment or perhaps longing in her eyes. But she quickly composes herself.
The little girl slowly opens her eyes, blinking sleepily and looking around disoriented. She rubs one eye with a fist, then glances up as if just realizing that she's in Jinx's lap.
Isha grins brightly when she sees Jinx, her tired eyes lighting up. She wriggles a bit, stretching her limbs and looking surprisingly cheerful despite being woken up.
“I think we should head back. It's getting late.”
Jinx nods, carefully shifting Isha in her arms as she stands up. The child wraps her arms around Jinx's neck, clinging to her like a monkey.
“Alright, kid, time to head home,” Jinx tells Isha, bouncing her up in her arms. The girl giggles and buries her head into the crook of Jinx's neck.
Seeing Jinx like this with Isha is something else. She looks so... soft.
“Ready to go?” Jinx asks, looking at you. Isha wriggles, eager to get going.
You nod, gesturing for them to lead the way. Isha stretches out a hand towards you, wanting to hold onto you too.
“Looks like you've got a fan.”
“Nah, she just likes me that much.”
“That so?” Jinx huffs. “Or is she just using you to get to me?”
“You know she'd choose my company over yours any day.” 
“Oh, so that's how it is, huh?” She pokes Isha gently in the stomach, causing another giggle from the child. “Traitor,” she mutters, before addressing you again. “I'm wounded, really.”
“You'll survive,” you assure her. “Somehow.”
The warmth of Isha's grasp on your hand. The giggle that escapes her every time Jinx spins her around. The way Jinx's eyes soften when she looks at the child.
This, you realize, is what home could feel like.
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notes: im so excited for act 4 on saturday!
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2K notes · View notes
andvys · 6 months ago
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You said you were gonna grow up (then you were gonna come find me) ⭐︎ S.H.
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⭐︎ Warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood best friends to lovers, allusions to cheating (but not really), mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited love, hurt/comfort
⭐︎ Summary: You and Steve used to be inseparable, best friends since childhood, you shared something special, something rare. You promised each other forever but... promises are never to keep... right?
⭐︎ Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
⭐︎ Word count: 10k
⭐︎ Author's note: To my Steve girlies who have read (and still mourn) I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss -- in the middle of writing this little oneshot, I noticed that Steve and reader reminded me of someone, and then I realized that it's basically Steve and Cheer in a different universe (if Steve hadn't fucked up as badly as he did). This is... what they should have been.
Also shoutout to @hellfire--cult for inspiring me to finish this oneshot (finally) and @ghost-proofbaby thank you for picking a title for me, and for your sweet words about this little piece, you're both the bestest
⭐︎ my library
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divider by @saradika (I screamed when I saw the folklore dividers)
The smell of weed and smoke lingers in the air, music blares through the house and bounces off the walls, laughter and giggles come from every corner, conversations he couldn’t care less about yet listens in on because what else is there to do at a party? 
Steve once found himself at home in such gatherings, now he feels nothing but bored as he watches the people instead of interacting with them like he once used to do. 
He used to be on the dancefloor, at the keg stand, pressing some girl against the wall and kissing her neck before taking her upstairs into one of the empty bedrooms – but those days are long over and they are not to be missed, not in the slightest. 
Now he is sitting out in the backyard of some stranger’s house, sipping on a lukewarm soda and waiting for Robin to get sick of this party so he can take her home before going to his empty house and crashing out on his new bed. Seeing as she’s jumping around on the dancefloor with Vickie, it doesn’t seem like she'll want to leave anytime soon. 
 A sigh falls from his lips and he slumps his shoulders in boredom. 
He could be socializing, talking to girls, flirting with them, with the ones who keep waving at him and sending him suggestive, overly sweet looks – he isn’t interested. The past few months were wasted ones, disastrous dates, one or two meaningless hookups, girls who weren’t interested in him but only in sex – that was his reality and he didn’t want that anymore, he doesn’t want that anymore, he wants something real, he wants to feel something, he wants someone to want him for more than just that one thing, he wants a connection, a bond, he wants… you. 
Steve’s lips part, his eyes lighten up, glowing just like the stars in the night sky, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck to see you better, his heart skipping in a way it hasn’t in a long time, he forgot what it feels like… but of course you are the one to remind him of the way his heart can skip and flutter when he feels something, you have always been the one, the only one. 
Not even Nancy could make him feel half of the things you could make him feel. 
But he blew his chances with you – the only chances that ever mattered. 
He hears your laughter, your beautiful giggles that he missed every day since you left, even from all the way here, he can hear the voice that accompanied him throughout most of his life… until it didn’t. 
You were his best friend, the only friend that mattered until he found Robin. You were with him from the moment your mothers introduced you both to each other, joined at the hip, you went through it all together, different hobbies, different friend groups, first crushes and rough school days, arguments with so called friends, first parties, first drunken nights, you went through so much and you did it all together, you experienced everything together. 
Steve would sneak into your room, late at night, he would use the vines on the wall as a ladder, no matter how many times you scolded him, he still climbed up because he wanted to see you so desperately, even when he spent the whole day with you, it just wasn’t enough, you’d spent the nights whispering and talking about the newest gossips, sometimes he would paint your nails or braid your hair, sometimes you would just lie next to each other and listen to some new album and sometimes you would cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, it was a regular thing, it was something constant. 
But then something changed, you both got curious, you both started acting upon feelings that have been there for a long time already, feelings that were no longer innocent and childish turned into something more. 
You were each other’s first kiss, it was nothing more than a peck at first… and then it was a second and a third before you kissed for real. And then, it was just another regular thing, you started cuddling and kissing every night, smiling and giggling through it all, holding hands and pulling each other closer and closer. 
Those innocent kisses turned into makeout sessions and those turned into your first time. 
It was his first time and yours, you shared it with each other, like you shared everything else together. 
It was filled with nervous giggles, blushing cheeks and shaky touches, you were both scared to do something wrong but you assured one another and you both did your best, he took care of you and you of him. It was slow, it was soft, it was perfect. A night he will never forget. 
Nothing ever came close to this moment, nothing came ever close to how you made him feel. 
Steve should have asked you out after that night, he should’ve, but he didn’t, he chickened out, he got scared and he left the next morning without saying goodbye. That was his biggest mistake. 
To this day, he doesn’t know how you felt about it all, you never spoke of this night again, you never mentioned it again, you both acted like nothing happened, you continued your friendship like you didn’t ruin it. 
He kept coming over, everything stayed the same… but it didn’t. 
You started slipping away from him and he was too busy to notice, he became captain of the basketball team, girls started noticing him, he started going on dates even though you were all he could think about, it felt wrong to hold their hands, to kiss them, to touch them, he felt as though he was betraying you but his new friend Tommy encouraged him, spoke lies into his ear about how you went on dates on the nights you canceled on him. 
He was hurt, he was angry, and it only was a matter of time before he invited a girl who wasn’t you into his sheets. 
He hated how he felt afterwards, but he didn’t stop, he kept going and before he could even blink, he was the most popular boy in school, he was King Steve, the guy who could have anyone but still only had eyes for one. 
Though your shared nights became less frequent, you still spent time with him, even when you weren’t fond of Tommy and Carol, his big parties or the way he treated girls, you were still there and it bothered him that he couldn’t have you. 
It was clear that you didn’t feel the same, despite the many signs that he had missed at that time. He was your best friend, just your best friend, just Steve. He could’ve made a move, he could've asked you out on a date, he could’ve finally confronted you about your night together and how you felt about it, how you felt about him, but he was scared and it was ironic really, because he was good with girls, very charming and cocky, smug and arrogant but not with you, no, not with you. You made him nervous, you made his chest feel weird, his stomach too, you made his heart race and flutter, you made his skin feel hot and his mind all crazy. 
You got him bad. 
You made him fall in love. 
But he was a coward when it came to his feelings for you, he really was, he didn’t even want to admit them to himself, so he watched you slip through his fingers instead of taking action and making you his. His feelings got stronger despite the distance that slowly grew between you.
You were still there, physically, but your mind was somewhere else and you seemed so far away.
He left notes in your locker, just like he did when he was a kid. 
And you did the same to him. 
You waved at each other from afar and shared smiles, you still drove around town and sang along to your favorite songs after an occasional trip to that one diner out of town, you sometimes slept over and left your sweet scent on his pillows, driving him crazy with it. You were still each other’s best friends. 
But then Nancy stepped into his life and that was it, at that point, it was already crumbling, your friendship was hanging by a thread and it earned its final blow when you moved away for college. 
Occasional calls and letters were all that existed between you at that point, it drove him crazy, it made him sad. He suffered heartbreak when you were gone and you weren’t there to mend it, you weren’t there to hold him, to wipe his tears and tell him that he would be alright – how could you? You were the reason for that heartbreak and Nancy was the one who gave him the final push to open his eyes to the feelings he kept pushing away and feeling so scared of. 
When he realized what a mistake he had made, it was far too late to fix it and he never stopped regretting the actions he took and didn’t take. 
But now you are here, you are back. 
He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he hasn’t seen your beauty in forever, he missed your presence so dearly. 
One year, one whole year without you. 
Are you here to stay for the summer or are you back for good? He hopes it’s the latter, this town felt anything but home without you here. 
Steve stares at you, he stares and stares without shame. His lips are curled into a soft smile, his cheeks already blushing as he takes you in. 
You are so gorgeous. 
A confident smile is lingering on your lips, your makeup is a little bolder than it used to be, back then, but it suits you, your skirt is short, your top is tight, your cleavage is showing and your skin is glowing, your hair is much longer than he remembers it to be, a few highlights added to your pretty hair color and styled into waves. 
You have always been a sight for sore eyes, he was aware of your beauty from a young age, he called you his princess, his sweet, cute and beautiful princess. But you are more than just beautiful now, you are stunning, bewitching, you are heavenly. 
His heart jumps at the sound of your giggle, his skin heating up so rapidly that it catches him off guard. 
Steve watches you, he watches for what feels like forever, you’re here with friends, girls you used to hang out with back in high school. 
The smile never leaves his lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his heart fluttering more and more each passing second, eyes continuing to light up at every sound of your giggle. 
When you step away from your friends and walk back into the house, he wastes no time to follow, grabbing the chance that he once missed, he goes after you and leaves his drink abandoned on the floor. 
He brushes past a group of guys playing beer pong, dodging the dancing people on the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on your body as he follows. Your skirt is swaying, your waves are bouncing, your hips are shaking slightly, your sweet scent lingers in the air and he can’t help but inhale it deeply, it’s still the same scent that he missed on his pillows and the hoodies you used to steal.
With your back turned to him, you stop in front of the snack table and pour yourself a cup of the overly alcoholised punch. 
Steve doesn’t approach you right away, standing by the doorway, he decides to watch you for a second longer, feeling giddy and nervous now that he is so close to you again. 
You nearly choke on the punch, the bitter taste of alcohol overpowering the fruity taste, you scrunch your brows together and swallow it down in disgust, unimpressed by this drink after all the different kind of cocktails you have tried in the past months on your night outs to bars with your girlfriends from college. 
A sigh falls from your lips and you take a second, much needed sip. 
It feels weird to be back home in Hawkins, the town is much quieter than the big city you called home for the past year and you feel that weird tingly shudder on the back of your neck, knowing that he is so close somewhere. 
Steve. 
You miss him so much, you miss him everyday, but it’s been so long, you can’t even remember the last time you have talked to him. You know that he still works at Family Video and his friend Robin moved into his house with him after his parents moved away from Hawkins, for good. 
But that’s all, you don’t know if he is single or if he is dating – you fear your heart wouldn’t take the information very well, which is ironic really, you haven’t seen him in so long, all you have are your memories, some of which you kept in a shoebox under your bed, pictures, notes, letters and little presents from him. Steve was nothing but a ghost these past months and yet it didn’t stop your heart from falling deeper in love… even with just the boy in your memory, the one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. 
A sigh falls from your lips as you look down at the red beverage in your cup, you close your eyes and take another sip and swallow it but this time in delight, you welcome the burning in your throat. 
“You still make that cute face when you don’t like something.” 
The voice you have just been thinking about sounds deeper than it did when you left. 
Those shudders at the back of your neck, run down your spine and transform into heat across your whole body, your heart skips a few beats.
You turn to face him, sloshing the drink around in your cup, you nearly spill it on the white tiles beneath you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your chest tightens when you look at him for the first time again, those hazel eyes that you have missed so much staring back at you with excitement yet nervousness and you have no doubt that your own eyes match the look in his. 
Your lips curl into a shy smile, your cheeks heat up so quickly and you nearly crush the plastic cup in your hand when you let your eyes roam his body. He somehow got even taller, his arms look stronger and his shoulders wider, his hair got longer too, a spitcurl hanging over his forehead, his cheeks are rosy, a stubble covering his jaw and chin, your eyes move down his arm, stopping at the black hair tie around his wrist that momentarily steals your breath away and fills your chest with hope. You lick your lips and swallow as you stare at the veins in his hands. 
There he stands with his stupid, still perfectly styled hair and his Levi’s that are always way too tight around his crotch, looking down at you and reminding you of how much taller he is and always was. 
“Hey,” he breathes, nervously, happily. 
“Steve,” you say with a smile on your lips, “hi.”
Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know what to say, your heart is beating so hard, he can feel it in his throat, he feels so nervous, you make him nervous. His charm, his flirtatious side still fades into nothing when he is around you and the world around him still disappears when he is with you, some things truly never change. 
He wants to take a step closer and wrap his arms around you, he wants to hug you and never let go again but he doesn’t want to overstep so he forces himself to stay in place. 
“Y-You’re back,” he smiles, trying to hide his excitement. 
You nod, probably a little too quickly. 
“Yeah, I’m back,” you nod again, feeling awkward and tense standing here before him after all the countless nights you spent thinking, dreaming about him. 
He breathes heavily and fidgets with the hair tie around his wrist, “for the summer or…?”
You shake your head, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. 
“No, I-I transferred to uh the community college here…” You scrunch your face up when you see the surprised look on his face. “I know, lame right? Moving away from Chicago and back to your hometown is uh not the.. move.” 
Not the move? He repeats in his head. 
This might be the best day of his life – the day he had been waiting for, for your return. 
Steve’s eyes widen, he purses his lips as he starts shaking his head, raising his hand a little, he steps closer to you. 
“No! No, I’m just surprised, that’s all, I didn’t think you’d ever come back… honestly,” he chuckles nervously and brings his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. “But I’m happy to see you back here again.” 
Happy is an understatement, the feelings in him can’t be put into words, they do not exist. 
Your eyes soften at his words, your smile transforming into a soft one, hope swirling inside of you. 
Did he miss you like you missed him? 
“I’m happy to see you,” he adds, his cheeks heating up at his admission and your beauty doesn’t help his case, his eyes roam your body, your pretty features, your soft skin, the chain around your neck that looks oh so familiar, his heart starts beating faster, his hands shaking from the giddiness lingering in him. “Y-You look…” Stunning, mesmerizing, gorgeous, sexy, adorable, like an angel or a goddess. “Amazing.” He breathes, blushing red.
Your eyebrows pull together as your wide eyes fill with emotion. 
You see the way he looks at you, you see the redness in his cheeks, the shyness in his eyes that surprises you the most. 
You take a shaky breath, cursing at the way your cheeks heat up and glow so hotly. 
“Thank you,” you say without stutter, to your own surprise. “You don’t look bad yourself, Harrington,” you smirk at him, smugness taking over your blushing features when you see him looking down in nervousness. 
Did you just make Steve blush? 
You open your mouth again, feeling the urge to compliment him again when a whistle interrupts you and wipes the smirk off your face, instead a look of disgust takes over your features when you turn your head to see Tommy Hagan looking you up and down with a perverted smile on his face. 
He pushes his way between you, earning a glare from Steve, whose face turned stone cold and angry. Tommy grabs a red solo cup and pours himself some of the punch while he continues to give you nasty looks, chuckling when looks at your cleavage, “shit, now I get why Harrington always kept his favorite toy to himself,” he smirks and takes a sip of his drink before he steps back to wink at Steve, wiping his chin and looking back to you, “you really grew up.” 
Your lips curl downwards, your brows pull together in a frown. 
“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve frowns at him, giving him a disapproving look. 
Tommy always made you feel uncomfortable with his comments and his weird looks, but it was something else back then. This is new, this is disgusting. 
“If I knew back then that you were hiding these behind your sweaters, I would’ve definitely hit it,” he chuckles darkly as he stares at your boobs. 
Bile rises in your throat and your grip tightens on your cup, the urge to throw your punch into his face growing strong. 
Steve rolls his eyes, a frustrated sigh falls from his lips and he steps towards his former friend, he places his hand on his chest and pushes him back as he takes a protective stance in front of you, protecting you from Tommy’s prying eyes. 
“Alright, that’s enough, asshole,” Steve mumbles angrily. “Leave her alone or I swear to–”
“You swear to what, man? You and I both know you can’t do shit,” Tommy laughs at Steve, his eyes crinkle in amusement, irritating Steve further. 
Steve might’ve lost most of his fights, but he wouldn’t lose one if it came to you. 
He clenches his jaw and glares down at him, feeling rage burn within him. 
“Seriously dude, get lost, alright?” He demands, his voice sounding deeper, more serious than before. 
You look over Steve’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected by him, the way you always did, just even more now. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your heart swelling in your chest. 
To your surprise, Tommy steps away without another word, continuing to chuckle at Steve and the glare on his face. He gives you another look. 
“Call me if you–”
“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve says through gritted teeth, feeling hot rage flushing through him. 
Tommy takes another sip as he walks backwards, winking at you before he finally turns around and leaves the kitchen, allowing you to finally breathe. 
Steve runs his fingers through his hair and huffs, turning back to you, his features instantly soften. 
“I’m sorry about him.” 
You shake your head, your smile reappearing again, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, “some people just never change.” 
“Yeah…” He mumbles, wondering if you changed at all, “did you?”
Did you change? You ask yourself. Maybe, surely college has shaped you in some way, being away from home, being independent and all alone, meeting new people and being pushed into situations you would have never allowed as a teenager, did change something in you. 
You got more confident, a little bolder too, you tried new things and did them without shame, something that was once impossible when you were still here and an insecure teen. 
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sly smirk, “why don’t you find out?” 
The anger Tommy left him with fades away, the flirtatious tone in your voice catching him by surprise and you take it even further when you take a step closer to him after placing your drink on the counter, you look up at him with your big eyes that still drive him crazy. 
He doesn’t remember you to be this flirty… this bold but he can’t complain, it makes the fluttering in his stomach feel so much more intense. 
Steve’s lips curl back into a smile, he blinks at you, looking into your eyes intensely, with want and need – nothing changed, if anything, the magnetic force between you has intensified, even when there was mostly only radio silence between you both in these past months. 
Steve licks his lips, a sliver of his confidence slipping back in when he sees the way you look at him, eyes roaming his face and his body. Though his cheeks are still burning and his heart is still racing, no matter how much confidence he can find within himself, you are still you, you are still the girl that holds his heart in the palm of her hand, the one who has him captivated in every way possible, the one who has had him wrapped around her finger, from a very young age. You aren’t just a girl to woo and impress for a single date, you aren’t someone he would forget if a conversation or a date went wrong, you are the one he always wanted to grow old with, to experience everything with, to spend a life with the one who is his everything – one wrong move and he loses it all… again. 
He doesn’t bother to ask if you are with someone, if you are dating and taken, the thought is disturbing to his heart. 
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks as he slowly reaches for your hand and you allow him to take it when you slip your palm against his and give his hand a squeeze.
He nearly crumbles to his knees when he feels your soft touch again, it’s been too long. Your hand always fit into his so perfectly, like it was made to be held by him. 
You nod, whispering a sweet ‘yes, please’. That’s all he needs to hear before he pulls you closer to his body, pushing you in front of him slightly, keeping a protective stance right behind you as he never lets go of your hand, basking in the feeling of having you so close again, of being able to smell your perfume again and the sweet scent of your body wash. 
He rubs circles on the top of your hand, pressing his other hand on the small of your back as he pushes through the crowds of people. He leads you to Robin first, needing to make sure that she will get home safe without him. He finds her playing beer pong with Vickie and a few of their former bandmates from high school. He taps on her shoulder and when she turns around, Steve grows more nervous than before, because her eyes grow wide when she sees you next to him, excitement flashing in them and a big grin appearing on her face after a long moment of staring at you. 
She knows all about you. 
She knows all about his feelings and his regrets. 
She knows how much he missed you. 
She was there when he cried and never stopped talking about you. 
So after greeting you, probably a little too enthusiastically, she moves closer to Steve, raising her eyebrows at him and giving him a teasing, yet pointed look. 
“Go and don’t worry about me, Vickie can drive, she’s not drinking tonight.”
“You sure?” 
She nods, her waves bouncing as she moves her head a little too quickly. 
“Steve I’m fine, go and get your girl,” she winks at him, squeezing his shoulder before she moves back, giving him another look that says nothing but ‘i mean it, don’t fuck it up this time, this is your chance.’ 
Steve nods at her, smiling and feeling reassured by her. He holds your hand tighter and pulls you away before you can properly say goodbye to his friend that you only know from your days in high school. You look back at her to find her staring at the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, she raises her eyebrows at you, eyes glowing as she gives you a smirk and a small wave of her hand. 
You feel a little confused by the teasing look on her face but smile and wave back at her nonetheless before Steve whisks you away and out of the room.
It isn’t weird to hold each other’s hand, to be back together in his car like nothing ever happened, like you never stopped doing this, like things are still normal between you. He makes small talk, it’s not awkward or weird, it’s… nice, anything is as long as you’re with him, even the silly jokes makes or how he tries to quote Shakespeare but fails miserably, he makes you laugh and you… you make him smile. 
You stop by the gas station to grab a six pack and some snacks to share before you drive to the lookout, to the place you always went to when you wanted to be alone together. 
You get comfortable on the hood of his car, as comfortable as you can get on the rough surface. It’s a little chillier out here in the woods, the wind that blows through the trees makes goosebumps arise on your skin. Steve, of course, has to use the opportunity to throw his jacket around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to warm you up as he moves close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. 
You feel something stir within you, something only ever he could make you feel. 
You grab the denim and pull it tighter around you, glancing at him through your lashes, you feel your cheeks heat up when you find him staring at you already, a soft smile playing on his lips that you can see, even in this darkness. 
“Thanks Stevie.” A grin tugs at your lips when his smile moves into a flustered one. 
Steve licks his lips, he removes his hands from your body and busies himself with opening the beer bottles for you and him, “you’re welcome, honey,” he whispers, winking at you. 
You look away from him with blushing cheeks, hiding the smile on your face as you tilt your head down but nothing goes unnoticed by him, he sees the flustered expression in your features, the cute smile you’re trying to hold back. 
He scoots closer to you until his shoulder is pressed against yours, he offers you the opened bottle. You glance at his hand, taking in the size of it, how big it is, how his veins pop, how long his fingers are – it makes you squirm and clench your thighs together and he notices it, he looks down and he almost regrets it, almost. Your skirt has ridden up, it nearly covers nothing, at this point. Your skin looks so smooth, thighs so soft, he wants to touch them, kiss them, feel them wrapped around his head. 
His skin heats up, his lower stomach tingles, he craves you, in every way possible, he just wants to… feel you, he wants to feel you close, he wants your skin on his, he needs to know that you are truly back. 
Your touch sends shivers down his spine, it makes his stomach flip. 
He blinks, looking down at the bottle he is still holding, watching the way your hand curls around it, fingers grazing his own. Your hand is so much smaller than his, the urge to compare the size of his own to yours growing strong. 
“Steve?” 
Your soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blushes, cheeks burning maroon. He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut as he furrows his eyebrows, he removes his hand from your bottle, already missing the touch of your hand. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I got a little uh… distracted.” 
He instantly regrets it when his eyes fall back on your lap again, your giggle makes him blush even deeper, he eyes you from the side, watching the way you press your lips against the bottle, you take a sip, trying to hide the smirk on your lips. 
He feels a sudden sense of nervousness rushing through him – here he is, in the presence of the girl of his dreams, the girl that slipped through his fingers, the girl that should be his and he is messing up. He begins to stutter, trying to distract himself once again, this time from your legs, from your soft skin, from how much he wants to touch and kiss you, from how beautiful you are but you make him stutter, you make it difficult for him to talk, you make it impossible for him to be smooth, to flirt with you the way he always did with other girls and suddenly, he is reminded of why he was always so scared of revealings his feelings to you, there was too much at stake, he didn’t want to lose you. 
He always felt so pathetic around you, like a stupid kid in love, one that can’t talk to his crush without blushing, without stuttering. 
And this is exactly what you always adored about him. 
But he doesn't know it, he doesn’t even realize it, he doesn’t even see the way your eyes always light up, the way they soften as you look at him, the way you admire him. 
Before he even takes a sip of his beer, he already feels like he is drunk, his skin is hot, his mind hazy, he feels happy, at ease, like he is floating, all because of you, you make him feel so… light. 
He is drunk on you, without having touched you properly, your presence is enough. 
He wonders how you are holding up, what emotions linger inside of you — you look so calm, relaxed. 
You fall into a comfortable conversation, catching up on the things you have missed in each other's lives, since being separated. And while your eyes stay glued on the night sky, only glancing at him every once in a while, he watches you, with a fluttering feeling in his chest and a smile on his lips. 
You laugh with each other, getting lost in the memories that you both start bringing up, joking and slapping each other’s shoulders softly as you start to tease one another about the stupid things that you both have done in the past. 
You have changed, not only physically did you get even more beautiful, you got something that you didn’t have before, a boldness that you always admired others for. You used to be so shy, anxious to ask the simplest questions, too nervous to hold eye contact for longer than two seconds, even with him, sometimes. But now, despite you choosing to look at the sky instead of him, he can tell that you are not that shy girl anymore, who was afraid to look into his eyes. You are confident, comfortable in your own skin, not afraid to be you, not afraid to gaze into his eyes when you tilt your head to look at him. 
He wonders what or… who caused it, the change in you. 
Was it just the circumstances? The big city that pushed you out of your comfort zone? 
New friends? Being on your own? Or… was it the experiences you have made in these past few months that have shaped you from an innocent, shy teenager into a confident, young woman? 
His stomach churns at the thought of the things you have done while being away from home, or better yet, who you have done them with. He has no right to be upset about it, he knows it, yet he can’t stop the sinking feeling inside of him as he thinks of the hands that have touched your body or the lips that kissed yours, if you had dated someone, if you are someone else’s right now. 
The question tumbles from his lips before he can even stop himself. 
“Do you have anyone?” 
The storm that was just raging in his mind, the string of questions that followed now silenced as he stares at you, waiting for your answer with a racing heart and clammy hands. 
The sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees are the only sounds now filling the space around you.
“You mean… a boyfriend?” 
He nods and you shake your head at that. You bring the bottle up to your lips, taking a much needed sip. 
“No, I don’t,” you murmur as your eyes roam his face, “why?”
You notice the frown on his face, the way his lips are curled down and his eyebrows are tightly scrunched together. 
“Just wondering… someone like you still single?” 
“What do you mean…?” You ask slowly.
Steve huffs, shaking his head with a smile on his face. 
“I mean… Come on, honey. You’re funny, you’re smart and you’re just… you’re amazing,” he sighs adoringly, hazel eyes running up down and your face and your body. “You’re beautiful, a fucking catch.”
You almost want to scoff at his words, you want to roll your eyes and look the other way. A catch, right. A catch he never wanted. Your heart betrays you when it flutters and prompts a girlish giggle to fall from your lips. 
“Stop.”
He nudges his shoulder against yours, grinning at your flustered face, “it’s the truth.”
Steve feels relieved to know that you don’t have anyone waiting on you, that there isn’t some guy out there that got the girl he always wanted. 
“You have to say that,” you shake your head and drink the last drop of your beer before you throw the bottle down on the grass, making a mental note to pick it up later. 
Because he is your best friend, because he was always your best friend, no matter what – so of course, he has to say these words to you. 
He rolls his eyes at you, huffing, “I’m not just saying that.” 
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the way his words can make you feel like that shy teenage girl again, you try to steer the attention away from you. 
You press your palm against the cold, almost icy hood, leaning back, you tilt your head to the side and gaze at him, loving how long his hair grew, how his features are more… manly now, though the boyish grin still lingers. 
“What about you?” You whisper, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue. “Got anybody, Stevie?”
He shakes his head quickly, almost frowning at your question. 
“Me? No… no one really… felt right.” He says with a look of longing in his eyes, the one that is only reserved for you. 
The tension in your chest disappears, almost instantly, you have an idea of what you would feel like had the answer been a different one. 
“I was seeing a girl… for a while but uh… like I said, it… she didn’t feel right,” he admits with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 
You nod, swallowing harshly. 
“Why didn’t she feel right?” You’re aware of how small, how shaky your voice sounds. 
You wait, wait and wait for him to answer your question, the answer he tries to find in your eyes as it seems because he won’t stop looking at you, it’s like he is searching for something, like he is trying to figure you out, like he is trying to make sense of the question you just asked. 
He doesn’t give you what you want, as always, Steve Harrington pretends like nothing happened, like nothing had been asked. 
But you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, you had someone too, back in Chicago. 
He was nice, he was good to you, in more ways than just one but no matter how much you tried not to think of him, you always failed. He was always there, always in the back of your mind, always ready to haunt you and remind you that he is and will always be the only one that your heart will belong to. 
Your relationship was only short lived, and you left him the moment you realized how unfair it was to stay with him when your heart was somewhere else, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. 
Something rustles in the bushes, something echoes loudly through the woods, something that would have normally made you flinch, doesn’t even faze you now because he is here. You feel safe in his presence, you always did, not even the darkest night or the loudest storm could make you feel afraid as long as he was by your side. 
And yet, you scoot closer to him, not even noticing that you do until his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through your entire body. 
And through his. 
You clear your throat and take a deep breath, “yeah… I had someone… but he didn’t feel right either.” You say softly, vulnerably as you meet his eyes again. 
A soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth and he nods, looking down at the bottle in his hand, he brings it up to his lips and downs the rest of it. He feels his stomach churning, his insides crawling at the mere thought of you with someone who isn’t him and it makes him feel awful, it makes him feel ridiculous because wasn’t that his own fault? He blew his chances with you. He let you go, hell, he didn’t even fight for you. 
He puts the bottle down, wipes his mouth and runs his fingers through his hair before he turns back to you to find you staring at him just the way you always did, with your big doe eyes, those pleading and begging looks you never stopped throwing at him. 
He’d have to be blind to not see it – he always did, he just never allowed himself to admit it, not even to himself, not even when you were all he ever wanted. 
“Why didn’t he feel right?” 
Steve watches the way your lips curl downwards, the way you squint your eyes at him, the softness fleeing as you glare at him instead.
And suddenly, the air around you feels different, tense for another reason, heavy and filled with something neither of you ever addressed before. 
While you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself – Steve tries to mend the aching in his chest, the hammering that feels just too strong. 
“Why didn’t she feel right, huh?” You ask, scooting away from him and getting off the hood, placing your feet back on the ground, you don’t even bother to smooth down your skirt. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in front of him, demanding the answer you tried to ask softly before. 
Steve sighs, growing fearful and anxious, feeling like he is messing up yet again, like he is about to lose again. 
But you are close, so goddamn close, even through the anger in your eyes, you still stand in reach, your knees now brush against his. He straightens his back, fighting the urge to reach for your hands and just pull you into him, showing you why no one ever felt right. 
He promised Robin, he promised her that if you ever came back, he would go and get you, he would come clean about it all, he would make it all right again. 
“This goes both ways, Steve. You can’t just ask me and then–”
“Because no one is you.”
He won’t fail this again, no matter how scared he is, he just can’t. 
Your lips part in surprise, a painful look crosses your eyes, though the anger doesn’t fade away just yet. You uncross your arms, and shake your head at him. 
His words should bring you joy, shouldn’t they? 
But as you stand here before him, his knees brushing your own, his golden brown eyes staring at you with nothing but love, you can’t help but feel your heart aching because why now? Why not then? 
“So… it took me to leave town… go to college… for you to say this?” You whisper, holding back a choke as your eyes well up with unwanted tears. 
His own eyes panic when he sees just how much pain there is inside of you, how much you hid it. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, he sighs in relief when you don’t push him away like he thought you would. 
“It was always there. Before our first kiss, before our first time, and then it never stopped. But you were… you were scary. Feeling love that strong at such a young age– it wasn’t in my plans. I was scared… I was scared of loving you and losing you. It happened before.” 
His parents. 
He loved them unconditionally, he loved them no matter what they did and didn’t do, he loved them and he lost them – they abandoned him and then they forgot about him. 
Your eyes show nothing but pain, your heart breaks, all over again, for him. 
And you’re stunned, so goddamn shocked because that word fell from his lips. Love. He loved you. 
You curl your hand around his, squeezing them tightly as he gets off his car, standing tall before you again. 
“You… still could have–”
“Risked it?” Steve interrupts you, furrowing his brows as he looks down at you. “No… I wasn’t going to risk it. Risk losing you…” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself, “now I see how stupid that was because I lost you anyways.” 
His eyes well up with tears, his voice almost cracks and you finally… finally get to see a glimpse into his heart, how much pain he was always hiding.
“No… I don’t think you lost me.”
“Honey, we haven’t talked in–”
“What you felt for me… Is it… Is it past tense?” 
Steve should see the hope in your eyes, he should hear it in your voice too, but he is so scared, so nervous at this moment. 
Everything he had always been afraid of was losing you because of his feelings and he can’t help but wonder, what if he confesses his love to you now and his saddest fear creeps in and he will lose you for good, forever? 
“Why do you want to know?” He asks, shakily. 
You hold his hands tighter, taking another step closer until you are chest to chest. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you look up at him, begging with your eyes, yet again. “Because I deserve to know, Steve, do you still have feelings for me?”
He takes a long pause, feeling like his heart might explode, feeling like the ground might disappear beneath him if he doesn’t finally give you the whole truth. 
His eyes flicker down to your lips, the ones he craved to feel on his own for years, his body aches for you just the way his heart does, desire running deep but love taking full control, driving both his heart and his mind insane over you. He feels the pounding from his chest to his throat, his eyes glossy with tears he shed so many times over you, over his regrets. 
“Yes,” he whispers, already feeling his chest deflating as the pressure slowly sinks away, “like I said, they never stopped.”
Tears spill down yours and his cheeks, his shoulders slump in relief and you, you finally breathe. You sniffle and a giggle falls from your lips, one that makes him furrow his brows but smile because now he can see the happiness in your eyes, the joy from hearing this from him. 
“Oh, thank god,” you whisper and throw your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest, you hug him tightly, catching him off guard. 
It takes him a moment, it takes him a very long moment. 
His glassy eyes are wide, his heart is threatening to break free from his chest. He wanted this, he wanted you for so long, he feels like this is too good to be true but when he feels your tears seeping through his shirt and how you cling to his body, like you are afraid that he might disappear if you let go, he finally relaxes. His eyes close gently, tears spilling down his cheeks, he melts into your touch and curls his arms around you, cupping the back of your head, he holds you closely, tightly. 
“I missed you so much,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head, he gives a first kiss again. 
“I missed you, Stevie,” you murmur into his chest, holding onto his shirt. 
He moves even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you rise to your tippy toes, wanting to feel more of him, as though he isn’t close enough already, not even when your chest to chest. 
Steve breathes in your scent, the one he used to sink his face into when it still lingered on his pillows, when he longed to feel you in his arms, when he craved you so badly but felt too cowardly to make the move he just made now. 
You cling to one another, like you never have before, not even when he held you during nights you needed him the most, when you were both so convinced that you were nothing more than friends… when just friendship was never something possible between you. 
Steve’s eyes are shut tightly, he is so lost in the feeling of you, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved in your embrace. 
How can his heart race so fast yet feel so… calm? 
You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in each other’s arms, you are so lost in the moment, you couldn’t care less about anything around you, about the time, about your surroundings, about the world – only you and him matter, nothing more. 
He cups the side of your face when you begin to pull away to look at one another, glossy eyes gazing into each other, lips begging to be connected. His fingers brush through your hair, he tucks your front pieces behind your ears and caresses your cheeks. His hazel eyes flash with adoration. You are so beautiful. It makes his heart clench in his chest.  
You slide your hands up his chest, moving up to his neck and cupping his cheeks, your stomach growing with anticipation the closer you both move to each other. 
No words are spoken, there is no need for them, your eyes tell everything, just like your touch when your lips finally connect. 
Your hearts stop beating, time stops ticking, the world stops moving. 
Everything around you stops. 
Just absolutely everything. 
Your eyes flutter shut, just like his. 
A kiss you both never stopped craving finally happening, not only in your minds, but in reality. 
Steve sighs in contentment, a whimper following close behind, your lips move slowly, softly with each other, you savor each and every second, even when you know that this is only the beginning of it all. 
Nothing and no one could ever compare to this, no one could ever come between you, you are two puzzle pieces, ones that were made for only each other, no one else to match you both. It’s only you and him. Your hearts know, you know, he knows. 
The way he kisses you so gently, so sensually, makes your stomach flip in ways it never did before, not even back then when you shared first and second kisses. 
And Steve, he feels like he is in a dream that he never wants to wake from again, he is too scared to open his eyes and find himself in his lonely bed, surrounded by the scent of you that he only imagines, that forever lingers like a kiss upon his skin. 
But your whimper is real, your lips are real, you are real, your lips taste just like they did before, sweet and peachy, like home. 
You only pull away to catch your breath, smiling when Steve chases your lips with his own, nuzzling his nose against yours as a soft giggle falls from his puffy lips, “god… I missed you, princess.” He murmurs against your lips, knowing that he will keep repeating these words, over and over again, he feels like he has been blessed by the universe. 
Your best friend’s eyes shine so brightly, the love in them that you always craved to see, is so evident, it’s all out in the open now, all in reach, all there for the taking – when not even a few hours ago, you didn’t even know where he was, if he still thought of you, if he still cared for you… 
Tears escape your eyes and he wastes not second to catch them, to wipe them away and kiss your wet cheek. 
“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, feeling like his heart might break, knowing that you have suffered just the way he did, when he thought that you moved on, that you had forgotten all about him just like everyone else did when that was never even the case, when all you did was long for him, love him, even from afar. 
“I love you,” he whispers in relief, feeling like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, “I love you so fucking much, you’re my–”
You cup his cheeks and pull him down once again, kissing him deeply. “You.” Kiss. “Don’t.” Kiss. “Know.” Kiss. “How.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Dreamed.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “This.” Kiss. “Moment.” 
Steve's heart flutters the way it never did before, butterflies go wild in his stomach, his eyes crinkle and he smiles so brightly, his cheeks hurt. 
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington, you have no idea how much–”
His lips are on yours, pressed against them so strongly as he pulls you into another deep, passionate kiss before you can even finish your sentence. He kisses you in a way no one ever did before. 
His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, his tongue parts your lips so effortlessly, your own clashing against his as the softness of your feelings disappears and transforms into something needy, hungry. This kiss is much faster, much rougher, much more passionate than the first, you get lost in it so quickly. 
When he takes a step back and he sits back down on the hood of his car, he moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you in between his legs. 
Your arms move around his shoulders, your hands get lost in his hair, fingers gripping it tightly as moans escape you. The kiss makes you feel so hot, your stomach burns, your skin feels like it’s on fire as his hands move up and down your back, slipping underneath his jacket that is still around your shoulders, under your shirt and then, he touches your soft skin with his cold hand, something that makes you shiver yet lean closer against him. 
He moans against your lips, he is so intoxicated by you, needing more and more, like you’re his own personal drug. He could keep doing this, he could take you right here, right now. He could taste you, unravel you with his tongue, with his fingers, he could hold your hands and make love to you like he always wanted to, like he hoped he’d get to tonight – because he thought that this might be all he would get, a night with you, only that and no more, because how could you ever want anything more than this with him after all the times he messed up with you? After he let you slip through his fingers like it was nothing?
But this won’t stay a single night, this won’t be one that will haunt him for the rest of his life. 
This will turn into more, so much more. 
He doesn’t want to mess it up again, he wants to take it slow, he wants to give you everything you deserve, everything he craved to give you, all these years, everything he dreamed about, during the day and the night. 
So as much as he wants this, you, your bare skin on his and your whimpers blessing his ears, you deserve more, you deserve to be taken on a date first. 
“Hang on,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheeks again, his lips curl into an amused smile when he opens his eyes to see your smudged lipstick that is no doubt on his face now too, your hair a mess just like his own, “I want to… fuck… I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about you. But I want to take it slow, I-I want to do it right this time, I want to take you on a date and–”
You cut him off with a kiss, once more. Pressing your lips against his plush ones, over and over again until it makes you both giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you down on his lap, grabbing your cheeks, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Slow is good,” you whisper, caressing his cheek as his fingers run up and down your spine underneath the denim jacket. “I like slow.”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
You nod, though an almost sad smile makes its way on your lips, “you know, I kinda thought you forgot about me until all of this.” You wave your hand around, wiping at your wet cheek as a soft laugh tumbles from your lips. 
You weren’t the only one who stopped calling, who stopped sending letters, he did too, but not for the reasons you thought, clearly. 
A deep frown appears on his face, he tightens his hold on you, raising his hand up towards your face, he cups your cheek. Despite everything he just said, despite the kiss, you still don’t understand just how deep his feelings for you are, how his heart isn’t even his own because it is completely, devotedly yours. 
“I could never forget you,” he whispers with a sad smile on his face, “you’re all I ever think about, now and then, even when we were kids, even when I was… King Steve,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname he used to be so proud of. “You never once left my mind, not once.” 
The smile that makes his way to your lips makes his heart skip a beat, he kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a moment. 
“So please, let me make it right, let me fix everything… go on a date with me?” He asks with nothing but hope in giddiness in his voice. 
You squint your eyes and tilt your head, giving him a teasing smile as you pretend to think but his soft eyes make your teasing an impossible task at this moment, you wipe the lipstick off his mouth and nuzzle your nose back against his. 
“I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie,” you whisper, feeling your heart burst from joy and love. 
The one thing you always wanted, you always craved now finally happening, at a moment when you least expected it. 
Coming back home made you so nervous, knowing that you would see him again after all this time of being apart, knowing that your feelings will only continue to grow, no matter the tie between you, filled you with a sense of… dread, because you couldn’t help but wonder – does he even want to see you? 
But, to find out that he had spent every passing moment, thinking about you, about your past, wanting you back and willing you to come running back into his arms lights up everything inside you again – flames you have tried to put out, burning stronger than ever. 
Steve’s eyes well up with tears of joy again, he cups the back of your neck, his lips brush against yours, he can’t even describe his feelings with words, so he doesn’t even try, but he shows you the happiness you brought back into his life, the happiness that was just gone when you were… gone. He kisses you, once, twice… He keeps kissing you, over and over again, unable to stop himself from going back in for more, consumed by love, by gratitude and happiness to know that you came back. 
To know that you won’t haunt his what if’s. 
He won’t chase your shadows wherever he will go. 
Your scent won’t linger from just his memory alone. 
He waited and waited, and he let the lamp burn and now… now you are here, you came back, you came back to him. 
Here, at the lookout where you used to sit on your saddest days, you find your way back to one another again. 
As you embrace the future written for you, you know that the rings on your fingers won't only be imaginary ones like the ones from your childhood. 
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rafecameronssl4t · 6 months ago
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Could you do reader and rafes reaction to when they found out easer is first pregnant for the force’s marriage au? LOVED the first part!!
First pregnancy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: this fic is a 100% how i think rafe and reader would react in this situation
Warnings: mention of pregnancy, angst if there's anything else lmk
Word count: 1,457
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
You flip over the pregnancy test, your heart sinking as you see two lines. Of course. It was inevitable, given the life you’ve been cornered into. You sigh, throwing the test into the bin with a mixture of resignation and dread.
Leaning against the cool marble sink, you catch your reflection in the mirror—your eyes heavy with a sense of inevitability that’s become all too familiar. The pristine bathroom feels suffocating, its sterile white tiles and polished fixtures reflecting the stark reality you’re trapped in.
Leaving the bathroom, you make your way downstairs to the living room, each step heavy with the weight of what this means. Rafe had left for work a few hours earlier, leaving you alone in the house. It’s been this way for a while—his absence during these crucial moments only magnifies the distance between you.
The quiet of the house, broken only by the soft footfalls of the servants, feels more isolating than comforting. In the corner of your eye, you notice Anita descending the stairs. She’s one of the few people who’ve been with you since you were young, a steady presence in the chaos of your life.
You assume she’s just finished cleaning your room, making everything perfect as always. “Anita?” you call out, your voice softer than intended. She stops, turning to you with a gentle smile that’s both comforting and bittersweet. “Yes, Miss?” she replies, her tone warm and familiar. You look up from your phone, hesitating for a moment.
“Not a word to Rafe, please,” you say, your voice firmer this time, carrying the weight of the secret you now bear. Anita’s eyes soften with understanding. She doesn’t need any more explanation. “Of course, congratulations to you both. Your parents will be overjoyed, they’ve been waiting for this,” she says before continuing on her way.
Her words hit you like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath from your lungs. Of course, your parents would be thrilled. This is all they ever wanted from you and Rafe—a continuation of the family bloodline, a legacy to carry forward. They didn’t care if the two of you were unhappy, if this marriage was more a prison than a partnership. As long as the family name persisted, nothing else mattered.
~
"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoes through the quiet house, sharp and impatient. Anita’s calm response cuts through the tension. "She isn’t feeling well, Mr. Cameron," she says, her tone polite and soothing. Rafe grunts in acknowledgment and takes his seat at the dining table, his eyes scanning the empty chair opposite him—usually filled by you each morning.
Later that day, as you and Rafe drive to your parents' house for lunch, a wave of nausea washes over you. You place one hand protectively on your lower stomach, the other coming up to cover your mouth as you close your eyes and focus on steadying your breath. Morning sickness has been relentless lately, more intense and persistent than before. While you’ve managed to keep it hidden from Rafe up until now, the strain is starting to show.
Rafe’s gaze flickers to you briefly, his eyes narrowing with concern. Without a word, he reaches into the console and retrieves a bottle of water, handing it to you with an absent-minded flick of his wrist. He doesn’t even glance at you as he passes it over. "Thanks," you murmur, your voice barely audible as you unscrew the lid and take a slow sip, your eyes fixed out the window.
As the car rolls to a stop in front of your family estate, Rafe is already unbuckling his seatbelt, eager to get this over with. But before he can move, you reach out, your hand covering his, halting his actions. He glances at you, confusion etched across his features. You swallow hard, struggling to find the words, your eyes searching his before you turn away, staring blankly out the windshield.
You feel his gaze on your side profile, waiting, perhaps sensing the gravity of what you’re about to say. "I'm pregnant," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and unyielding. You feel Rafe tense beside you, the atmosphere in the car growing thick with unspoken emotions. His reaction is immediate and sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife.
"Are you seriously telling me this right now? Just before we see your parents?" His voice is laced with anger, catching you completely off guard. You turn to face him, your expression one of disbelief. Is he seriously getting mad right now? Of all the reactions you had braced yourself for, this wasn’t one of them.
"I just told you we're having a child, and this is how you react?" you snap, incredulous. Your disbelief quickly morphs into anger as you watch him look away, his jaw clenched in frustration. His silence only fuels your rage. "Fucking unbelievable," you mutter under your breath as you unbuckle your seatbelt and shove the car door open.
The door slams shut behind you with a resounding thud as you storm toward the front entrance, your emotions boiling over. You’re only a few steps away when you hear Rafe’s car door fly open, followed by the sound of his voice, sharp and laced with frustration.
"What do you expect me to say when you just laid that out on me?" he calls out, his anger evident in every word. You whirl around, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your eyes narrowed as they lock onto his. His expression is a mix of confusion and fury, as if he’s grappling with the enormity of your news and how it collided with the timing.
For a moment, neither of you speak, the tension between you crackling in the crisp air. "I expected you to care!" you finally snap back, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. Rafe’s eyes widen, caught between defensiveness and something that almost resembles guilt. "I do care," he retorts, his voice softer now but still edged with frustration. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you.
"But you couldn’t have picked a worse time to tell me. We’re about to walk into your parents’ house, and you drop this on me like it’s nothing?" You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes your lips. "You think I planned this? That I wanted to tell you in the driveway? I’ve been dealing with this alone, trying to figure out how to break it to you. But every time, you’re either too busy or too angry for me to even get a word in."
His expression falters, and for a split second, you think you see a flicker of understanding in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar mask of indifference. "And you thought now was the best time?" he asks, shaking his head in disbelief.
"What do you want me to say, Rafe?" you ask, your voice raw with emotion. "That I should’ve kept it to myself? Pretended everything was fine until it wasn’t? We’re having a child, and I needed you to know before we walked in there and pretended to be the perfect couple again."
Rafe looks away, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to process the situation. You watch the conflict play out in his eyes, the tug-of-war between the emotions he’s expected to feel and the reality of what he actually feels. His frustration is palpable, and after a tense moment, he sighs heavily, bringing his hands up to massage his temples.
"Can we just get through this lunch, please?" he finally says, his voice soft, almost pleading. His tone catches you off guard—there’s a vulnerability there that you’re not used to hearing from him. You stare at him, torn between wanting to push the conversation further and knowing that now isn’t the time.
His request isn’t unreasonable, but it stings nonetheless, a reminder of the emotional distance that still exists between you. "Fine," you reply after a moment, your voice tinged with resignation. "But this doesn’t change anything. We still need to talk about this—really talk about it."
Rafe nods, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks away again. "I know," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the unspoken hangs heavy between you as you both turn toward the imposing front door of your family estate, ready to face the charade of normalcy that awaits inside.
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