#but in the morning he had no memory of this

[katabay]

some sam drakes :)

nate's theme 4.0 came up on my playlist while I was working on commissions and oh boy. that piano line about a minute in to it still gets me emotional shshdshs

[avoidthings]

kitchen’s closed | t. richmond

About: Terry catches you in the kitchen late at night and has his own idea of a midnight snack. [word count: 2.1k] Warnings: Explicit language. 18+ Readers Only. Oral (female receiving), Unprotected PIV (wrap your willy, pls). I had concepts of a plot. 

It was well past midnight in North Carolina, and you could hear the crickets and other critters abuzz outside of your bedroom window. You stared at the sliver of moonlight cast between your curtains, realizing the clutches of insomnia had sunk its sneaky fingers in you yet again. 

Your boyfriend, Terry, rarely stirred in his sleep, and kept a hefty arm draped over your waist every night. Being that he was ex-military, it was sort of ironic how heavy of a sleeper he was. Some evenings you tried to count the rise and fall of his chest instead of sheep, but rather than lulling you to bed it just disgruntled you. You wanted to poke the bear awake and damn him for leaving you so smitten. 

The room was quiet aside from the bustle of the outdoors, and you thanked God your man didn’t snore or else this would feel like a torture chamber. You flipped through the rolodex of your thoughts and landed on recapping your day; you went to work, Terry picked you up and made a stop at Kroger, then you two watched some sitcom reruns for a bit. House rules were to grab takeout after grocery shopping so neither of you had to bother with cooking something. 

All that thinking of food must’ve sent a reminder to your stomach. You exhaled as it grumbled. While very cute, you would rather not see Terry’s grumpy face should he discover his miso soup missing. You perked up at the memory of slipping a pint of ice cream in the shopping cart earlier. 

It was counterproductive, solving sleeplessness with sugar, but you hoped Ben & Jerry’s would be your saving grace tonight. You peered over your shoulder to find your boyfriend as sound as ever, eyes fluttered closed like a saint. 

After a silent prayer, you wriggled from his hold and toed out of bed. You pattered around the twilight of the room, starting your mission to the fridge. Past the master bathroom, the thermostat, (which nearly broke the two of you up), and to the far right of your living space was your destination. Thankfully, the range hood light was on so you weren’t too sore of eyesight. 

You opened the freezer and plucked out your reward. After grabbing a spoon, you settled in, sitting on top of the counter. The granite was cold against your bare thighs, your body only blanketed by a worn t-shirt that hung off your shoulders. 

That first mouthful was instant gratification and you nearly rolled your eyes back in delight. 

“Baby, what are you doing up this late?” You were startled by Terry’s voice, the tone more gruff from the interruption of his slumber. 

You were caught red-handed, spoon in mouth, so you shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted something sweet.” 

He hummed. Terry made his way closer, no longer a distorted shadow in your peripheral vision. He had come to bed in only his sweatpants and socks. 

Terry had a glow about him, even in the dim of your surroundings. He slipped comfortably in your personal space, stepping right between your legs. You relished in the warmth. 

You had to look up even with the extra height the counter gave you.

“Sorry to wake you. I know you have to go for your run in the morning,” you said. 

Terry gave you a lazy smile and shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Everythin’ okay?” You nod wordlessly. 

“Hey!” You protested when he nabbed the pint from you, his hands quicker than your reflex to reach for it back. It was a battle you would more than likely lose anyway. 

He successfully hushed you by taking a scoop from the container to raise to your lips. 

“Open.” 

You held his gaze as you took what was given, inciting a groan that rumbled low in his chest. 

Terry obliged you once more and made notice of your tongue swiping to the corner of your mouth to catch what you missed. His own hunger dwelled in his underbelly. Between your job returning to the office and his growing trucking business, you haven’t made much time for intimacy as of late. 

“I think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet too.” The spoon and tub clattered by your side and he disappeared from your view. 

“Terry--” 

“Open,” he demanded once more, kneeling toward your feet, causing fire to crawl up the back of your neck. He did not take kindly to being ignored, and you wanted this to be an easy night, so you let your legs spread apart. 

He tossed one behind his shoulder, mumbling something inaudible to you. A kiss to your ankle, the inside of your knee, then your thigh. 

A yelp pierced the air when Terry’s large hands claimed the curve of your hips, tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. Your clammy palms braced themselves on the flat surface beneath you. You could feel his smirk and goatee rubbing on your exposed skin. 

Your breath quickened with the anticipation of what was next. His mouth ghosted over your center, blowing on your clit through your dampening panties. 

“Oh, fuck,” you shuddered. 

He was a merciless man, dropping open-mouthed kisses to your clothed center. He retreated as you tried to furl into his touch, reaching underneath your shirt to roll your nipple for more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Terry inhaled your scent without shame. Finally, the cotton of your undies was torn from your pelvis to who-knows-where. You felt the coolness of the air over your exposed skin for a brief moment, the absence of touch not lasting long. 

You jerked, feeling his tongue swipe a slow strip up from your wet entrance, gathering your slick. He lewdly spat it back over your clit and sucked until you cried out. Terry ate you without abandon, with little regard for any manners, overtaken by his own greed. --

“I missed how you taste, baby.” Voice muffled in between your legs, his eyes flitted up at you, earnest as always. Terry’s grip maintained the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread so he could continue to steal all breath and sense from you. 

“Oh my God,” you moaned. Your brain and your body sounded an alarm, reeling with the increasing need for release. His name fell like a chant from your mouth. 

Two fingers pushing into you caused the band to snap, Terry immediately seeking the button that left you gushing. He was unaffected when your heel dug deep at his shoulder, urging his face further in your pussy as if it was possible. His fingertips sped in pace, turning your mewls into high-pitched squeals. 

Soon enough, your back bowed with the intensity of your orgasm. He tightened his hold, keeping you steady as the current flowed through you. “That’s my girl,” he kissed and licked you through it. Pleasure never reached a precipice when you were under his care, and you shouted to the heavens.

When your legs eventually deflated, your hands found his ears, rubbing behind them gingerly. A grunt slipped from his mouth.

Terry staggered to his feet, hooded eyes glazed over your heaving body. His teeth nipped between your breasts over your shirt, up to your collarbone and your neck. You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in to feel his erection prod at your inner thigh. 

Instinctively, he rutted up against you and you sighed. You were warm all over, sheeted with sweat and clenching around nothing, wanting only to be full of him. 

His lips left your jawline and found your mouth, luring you into a mind-numbing kiss. You cradled Terry’s face in your hands and took control, allowing your tongue to slot against his. It felt all the more indulgent, the lingering taste of chocolate on your lips mixed with your own arousal. 

He was still rubbing on your leg and it only intensified your need for connection. Like a minx, you curled into him, purring in his ear. “Terry, I need you. Please.” 

Your hands lowered to explore the solid planes of his body, all of its beautiful ridges and scars. He leant down so his forehead was touching yours. “Fuck, I need you too, baby. Been losing my damn mind about you,” he breathed.

Terry yanked at the waistband on his joggers and his dick sprung free. You two didn’t usually forgo protection but your cycle was around the corner, and desperation made your judgment very foggy. 

His fingers splayed under your shirt to grasp at your plush waist, thumbing the folds of your belly from where you sat. Terry pushed his way inside, coating himself to about half of his length. You sighed into his hold, legs locked at his torso, trying, and failing to meet him in the middle. 

Without much effort, he stilled your movements. Terry pulled out slowly, and slapped himself over your clit twice, leaving you to squirm pitifully. “Stop teasing and just fuck me, already,” you whined.

Terry did as told and burrowed into you in one, deep thrust. You ate your words in a choked gasp. His head cocked back as he felt your walls squeezing him, putting the cords of his neck on full display. 

Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried desperately to hold on to the thread of resolve you had left. Terry trampled on it when he set a brutal pace, drilling in you like you owed him something. Your ears were ringing with your own moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. It all felt like too much, far too soon. 

You pressed a hand to his chest feebly and whimpered. He promptly grabbed your trembling forearm and kissed your wrist. “I’m fucking you like you wanted, huh? Why you tryna run from me?”

“It’s t-too, m-much,” your words were slurring and you frowned through the pleasure, hoping he’d give you relief from his punishing strokes. That all too familiar storm brewed in your belly again and you couldn’t stifle any noise that left your lips. Each thrust brushed against that sensitive spot within you, and you try your might to stave off your climax. 

His stare was focused on you, utterly enamored by your carnal state. “Terry!” You wailed, slapping at granite behind you and shifting to scoot away. The crack of his hand on the side of your ass rang loud and welled your eyes with fresh, salty tears. Terry landed a sweltering kiss on your lips to pacify you. 

He gripped you by the coils at the nape of your neck, and you blinked at him, huffing out shattered breaths. You wanted to ask him why he was fucking you like this, and what did you ever do to deserve it. But your brain could only compute expletives. You clenched and unclenched around him greedily, and his teeth gritted at the sensation.

“Stop holding back, I can feel it. Let that shit go.” And under his spell, you did, surmounting to a shaking ball in his arms. Your toes curled at his sides and his rhythm didn’t falter, his own release not far behind. You keeled with overstimulation, the air feeling sticky on your skin.

Terry’s hands abandoned your waist to cup your ass, bouncing you on his dick in hardy, final thrusts. You bite down his shoulder so you don’t scream loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now, sweat dripping on your collar. 

“‘Gonna make me cum all in this tight pussy, fuckk,” he groaned, ropes of his release starting to spurt inside of you. Your body was taut around him as his hips slowed to a halt. You were filled to the brim.

“My pretty baby did so good. So perfect for me,” Terry was panting like he just finished a mile-run, and still chose to sing your praises. He softened and pulled out, a part of you now missing. You sat there for a beat to catch your breaths, limbs still tangled together.

“Mm..’can’t stop shaking,” you whispered.

His actions had left you exhausted, drowsiness coated in every blink of your eyes. Terry separated from you for a second and he had his pants back on, scooping you up in his arms. You latched onto him like a bear, nuzzling into his chest.

If it was up to you, you’d pass out right there and crawl to bed in the morning. Something squished against his foot on his trudge out of the kitchen. 

“Shit, my socks are wet…what is that?” 

Ice cream.

--

Author’s Note: Just wanted to drop my contribution to the Terry Richmond industrial complex.

P.S. This was supposed to be Trainer!Terry but my hormone monster won. 

As always if you made it to the end, thank you bunches!

[connorsui]

“ Irresistibly Drawn ”

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Satoru is usually unfazed by the world around him, but now he finds himself obsessed with you, torn between playful teasing and a deepening affection.

Genre/warnings: fluff is so soft, light Jealousy on gojos part, playful banter ,unspoken feelings, pining, gojos six eyes are constantly looking at you with hearts all over

Note: suguru lowkey would be a good bf

w.c: 1.5K

It was a peculiar thing, the way Satoru Gojo found himself inexorably drawn to you. A man of unparalleled talent, charisma, and presence, he was rarely one to be captivated by anything that did not directly challenge him. Yet here he was, seated in his usual spot in the back of Yaga's class, his cerulean eyes drifting toward you like the moon tugs at the tide.

You sat just a few rows ahead, head slightly tilted in concentration, your brow furrowed as you absorbed Yaga’s lesson. For the life of him, Satoru couldn’t tell you what the class was about. Not because he couldn’t, but because it didn’t matter. Nothing in that moment mattered except the way you were lost in thought. He felt a strange satisfaction in knowing you were this focused on something, but all he could think about was how lovely you looked—how the sunlight spilling through the window softly illuminated the curve of your cheek, the strands of your hair that framed your face.

He leaned back in his chair, one long leg casually crossing over the other, as if utterly indifferent to the world. Yet beneath the veneer of laid-back carelessness was a growing restlessness, an unfamiliar tension that knotted in his chest. Why were his eyes always drawn to you? Why did it bother him when Suguru leaned in close to offer you help, his warm laugh filling the room as you fumbled through the training exercises?

Satoru had never considered himself jealous. Jealousy was a weakness, and he was anything but weak. But when Suguru’s hand had brushed yours that day, when he'd caught you mid-stumble with an effortless grace, a smile playing on his lips, Satoru’s jaw had tightened. His fists had clenched at his sides, the itch to intervene almost unbearable. He hadn’t, of course. That wasn’t his style. But the irritation simmered beneath his calm exterior, the feeling foreign and unwelcome. That even his own six eyes grew in irritation.

She wouldn't choose suguru over us would she?

He's a certified pretty boy on both ends of the spectrum losing to him would feel worse than anything we have dealt with

Not unless we get to her first

Are we seeing the exact same thing?

Her heart is increasing

Let's just play it safe…for now ..

That evening, he’d found himself sprawled on his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the scene in his mind. Why did it bother him so much? Why was it Suguru’s grin, your laughter, the brief contact of your hands that haunted him?

When Yaga had offhandedly commented on Satoru’s distraction during class—teasingly suggesting that someone had “taken up residence in his mind”—it was like a light had flickered on in the darkest corners of his consciousness. The realization hit him all at once, as sudden and unavoidable as a torrent breaking a dam. It wasn’t jealousy he felt.

It was something much worse. He was smitten.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, the invincible prodigy, was utterly and hopelessly smitten with you. And it terrified him.

The next morning, he woke with a pounding heart, the memory of Yaga’s teasing and his own restless thoughts gnawing at him. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t think straight. Suguru’s knowing laughter had echoed in his ears after he’d confided in him, and though Satoru had laughed it off, the weight of it sat heavy in his chest. There was only one way to settle this.

So when he spotted you after class, your figure small and unassuming as you descended the steps, he found himself moving before he could think. His long strides carried him toward you, the steady thrum of his heart growing louder with each step. He felt like a fool. Satoru Gojo, who had never been nervous in his life, now felt his pulse racing, his stomach twisting with a kind of anticipation that was wholly unfamiliar.

When you finally came into view, your feet barely making a sound as you stepped lightly on the path, he stopped in his tracks. You looked up at him with those wide, curious eyes, a slight smile playing at your lips. It was the kind of smile that made something in him soften, that reminded him just how fragile this feeling was, how much power you unknowingly held over him.

“Satoru?” Your voice was gentle, laced with surprise, and it hung in the air between you both, soft like the afternoon breeze.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, words caught somewhere between his mind and lips. How could he, the one who always knew exactly what to say, find himself so completely undone in your presence?

What do we say?

Say something…

.. she's looking straight at us

For a brief moment, the idea of deflecting with one of his usual jokes crossed his mind—a laugh, a quip, something to brush this moment away. But the look in your eyes stopped him. There was a warmth, an openness, that seemed to unravel all of his carefully constructed bravado.

“I—” he began, hesitating, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

The confession felt startlingly simple, but its weight settled in the air between you, thick with unspoken meaning. You blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat…

That's the best we can come up with?

We have done better than this ..

before a smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a knowing smile, one that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Is that so?” you asked, a light laugh escaping your lips as you tilted your head at him. “And what exactly am I supposed to make of that? Do you actually mean it, Satoru, or is this just another one of your games?”

His smirk silently returned, the familiar glint of humor and charisma flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I mean it. I don’t throw around compliments unless they’re deserved. And trust me, you’ve been distracting me all day.”

Your smile deepened, but your voice carried a playful edge as you crossed your arms. “Distracting you, huh? Should I feel honored? Or is this just your way of telling me you’ve been spacing out instead of actually ”

“Heyyyy,” he leaned in ever so slightly, the mischievous grin never leaving his face, “can you blame me thoughhh? You’re a lot easier on the eyes than whatever there is going on. Honestly, I think you’ve made my life more bearable to deal with.”

You rolled your eyes, but your expression softened in amusement. “Is that all I am to you? Just a way to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Satoru said, and for a moment, his voice lost some of its teasing lilt. “If you must know, I’ve been thinking about you—quite a bit, actually.” His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the humor in his tone giving way to something more genuine.

I can't read to her …

Well read harder?

Her heart is steady

And her eyes are so direct to us

..Is she teasing?

There was a pause before you spoke again, the playful spark still dancing in your eyes. “Well, since you’ve been so preoccupied with me, what are you going to do about it?”

He blinked, a bit caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a low chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair as he leaned back with that signature ease. “I was thinking of taking you out far with me …something to ease up our little life into something far more exciting..maybe some fun in the city?”

“Hmm,” you mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And what makes you think I’d accept such an offer?”

Satoru grinned, the confidence returning full force as he straightened up. “Cmoonn you really going to say no to me?, your favorite? —letting go of such an offer as my wallet in your hands?”

You shook your head, laughing softly at his audacity, but there was a flicker of excitement in your smile. “Alright then, why don’t you meet me outside the tech’s gates later? And we’ll see if you can keep me as entertained in person as you claim.”

Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Wait, you mean today? ...Like, today today?”

You giggled, taking a step back, your laughter light as it filled the space between you. “Yes, today. If you really mean what you say, I’d love to see you try.”

This is working

How is this working?

Don't question it

He felt his heart skip, his usual mask slipping for a moment as something warmer, more real, surfaced beneath the swagger. “Then I guess I’ll have to bring my A-game. But don’t think I’ll let you win so easily. I’ve still got a reputation to uphold.”

You turned with a playful smile, your voice drifting back to him as you walked away. “Oh, don’t worry, Gojo. I’m expecting a challenge.”

He watched you leave, his grin widening as a thought flickered in his mind—perhaps, just this once, losing wouldn’t be so bad.

Listen I just want a smitten gojo who wants us internally ...mmhkay?

[asunflowerana]

will you go to prom with me?

summary: prom is near, and your sweet, popular friend will do anything to have you as his date.

with: Gojo Satoru.

warnings: yandere behavior, blackmailing (not from satoru), slight blood mentions.

words: 1448.

a/n: i'm just gonna sit back and pretend this didn't give me chills. thinking of turning this into a series, but i'll hold myself from now haha

"Go to prom with me." It's not what you'd expect to hear on a Tuesday morning, right after a wearing History class. Even more so coming from the mouth of no other than Gojo Satoru, the coolest, most desired boy in school.

Yes, you've been friends with him for almost a year. And yes, you get on very well together, crack some side-jokes at classes, sometimes go out to grab some food, do homework at the library, and even stay up at night until sunrise on the phone, freaking out while studying for a math exam that none of you knew about it — or not paying attention, to be more honest. 

So yeah, you're friends. But it's Gojo Satoru we're talking about. And Gojo Satoru is just way out of anyone's league.

You're simply dumbfounded.

"I—" You swallow hard, feeling like you just lost your memory and no longer know how to complete sentences. You're feeling a lot of things, honestly, the guy you've had so many daydreams with saying he wants to have you as his partner, and there you are, a pile of nerves trying to hide the hard, loud way your heart beats inside.

And it's not that you don't want to accept it. Heck, you want to say yes so badly, how many times did you catch yourself watching those sappy rom coms and wondering if you and the white-haired boy would make a fine couple like that. He's the whole package, and if those gorgeous blue eyes and jaw-dropping looks weren't enough, he's also so kind to you, that you can't help but develop a crush.

But as expected, he didn't catch only your attention, but the whole school as well. Kaya Nami, one of the troublemaker cheerleaders, is in the line and does everything she can to make sure nothing gets in her way.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from Satoru Gojo. You won't like having me as an enemy, believe me." She threatened you last Friday, right during PE class. Confused wasn't enough to describe how you felt, but you didn't say anything back to not cause drama, only nodding and watching her head off like nothing happened.

"...I'm sorry, Satoru, but I can't." And unfortunately, that warning was enough to hinder you from making the choice you wanted.

It goes without saying how astounded Gojo was by your answer, that probably being his first time ever being rejected. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" And then his tone dropped an octave, changing to something more seething. "Did someone ask you? You said yesterday to me that you didn't get invited."

"And you're right, I didn't get it." You try to reason, not liking the way he's bothered by your rejection. " it's just... I didn't think you wanted to go with me!" And you didn't lie, even though you said it more as an excuse.

"Well, now you know." He gets closer, almost making you hit your back at the locker behind you. His eyes say he didn't buy any of your excuses. "So, why can't you go? I mean, I know how overwhelming my beauty can be, but you're just as pretty, sweetheart."

His mood suddenly changes to the usual Gojo Satoru, the cheeky guy who enjoys flustering you for fun. Grazing your chin between his index and thumb, he looks deep at you. "I'll give you the best time you ever had. Just be my date."

It takes everything on you to not jump in his arms and let yourself get swept off your feet. Why does he have to make this so difficult? Taking a deep breath, you remember the headache you're gonna get if you don't make the right choice. "Satoru, I'd love to be your date, really. It's just, I think there's someone else that would make a better date than me."

He stares at you with an unreadable expression. You don't know if he got angrier or had enough of your pitiful answers, but you wish you could be able to read only a fraction of Satoru's mind, cause he's staring for too long at you, and you don't know what else to say other than stare back at him.

Finally, he steps back, diverting his gaze to a random spot for a moment before moving to look at you again. Sliding his hands inside his pants pockets, he seems to accept the situation, but you're still not sure of what you see. "I guess you're not changing your mind, huh? Then tell me, who's this 'perfect match'  that you think would be better for me?" He questions with a hint of disdain, but he tries to hide it with a small side smile.

The girl appears in the scene before you can mention her name as if she was waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and make her move on him. By the way your shoulders slump and your eyes lower to the ground, he quickly assumes that she's the person you were talking about earlier and that for some reason, she's making you very uncomfortable. Not you nor Nami noticed the way Gojo glares at a blank spot. Thinking, he mindlessly accepts the blond girl's invitation to lunch, giving you a brief hug before going away. "If that's what you want." He whispers unexpectedly in your ear, offering you a final smile before letting himself be guided to the cafeteria.

You spend the rest of the day wanting to beat yourself for wasting the chance you had to go out with Satoru. You don't talk to him as much during the week, since Nami was making sure to grab every second of his free time at break. It didn't take too long to figure out that both of them would go to prom together, and even though you were the one who made that happen, it still stings to imagine them having a good time.

Prom day arrives, and in the end, no one invites you. It wasn't something completely unexpected, but to be honest, you were hoping that at least one of your friends would be kind enough to want you as a company just so you could all enjoy the "night to remember". Honestly, you didn't want to miss such an important event, and even though there was a chance that you'd make a fool of yourself, it's still your prom, and you have the right to make the most of it, with or without someone.

Kicking away the self-pity, you dressed up and got ready for the special night, wearing that beautiful gown that you remember once showing on Pinterest to Satoru, months before the event. Checking your purse one more time, you catch your phone to ask for a cab, when you hear three familiar knocks on your front door.

Opening your house, you come face to face with someone you never would've imagined seeing at that moment. There stood Gojo Satoru, with a black tuxedo that perfectly accentuates his body, a bouquet of pink camellias in his left hand, glasses off, and a beautiful lopsided smile.

"...Wow." The combo of his honest compliment, his lingering, fond gaze in your direction, and the fact that you made him momentarily speechless, makes your whole self overwhelmed with endearing sensations, especially your warm cheeks.

But that passes too quickly since you don't understand the sudden visit.

"S-Satoru? What are you doing here?" You didn't want this to be the first thing to say to him, but you're so confused, that you don't know what else to say. "I thought you were going out with Nami. Where is she?"

Awakening from the brief trance you provoked in him, the white-haired boy only increases his smile in a rather strange way. " Didn't you know? Mina got in an accident yesterday, she fell from the stairs and ended up breaking her leg."

One more time, you were taken by surprise. As for your friend, he doesn't sound as worried as you imagined he would be after giving this message, but he still makes a respectful pause after saying it.

Satoru also notices your reaction, observing the way you empathetic self got sad for that girl's situation. Little did you know that she got exactly what deserved. And if you looked more closely at your gift, instead of worrying yourself, you'd notice the blood stains around the wrapping paper, the remains of what your future partner did to prove his love.

To his luck, you're just too pure to realize what you don't need to. And for that, Satoru smiles, gazing at you with sparks again.

"So now, will you go to prom with me?"

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated 🦋

© asunflowerana 2024

[xo100]

Baking cookies pt. 3- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and Y/N confess their feelings, agreeing to take things slow, while Nina continues to brighten their lives.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1237

masterlist / community / request / previous ౨ৎ next

౨ৎ

The next morning felt different. Not in a drastic, world-shifting way, but in the small, quiet way things change when you finally admit how you feel about someone who’s been in your life for so long. The sun filtered through the curtains in Lando’s living room, casting soft shadows on the walls, and Y/N sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. She wasn’t thinking about the articles in front of her, though. Her mind was on Lando—and the kiss they shared the night before.

She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle way his hand had cradled hers. The memory made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of Lando’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hair still messy from sleep. He looked comfortable in a worn T-shirt and sweats, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Morning,” she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly at the memory of last night.

Lando pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her, dropping into the chair across the table. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward with that same playful glint in his eyes that Y/N had seen countless times—but now, it felt different. There was something deeper behind it.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Good,” Y/N answered, smiling. “You?”

“Best I’ve slept in a while,” Lando replied, his gaze locked on hers.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their newfound connection hanging in the air. It was comfortable, but there was a spark between them, something quietly electric that hadn’t been there before.

But before they could say anything more, the familiar sound of little feet running down the stairs interrupted them.

“Daddy! Auntie Y/N!” Nina’s voice called out as she bounced into the kitchen, her curly hair wild and her face full of excitement. “I’m hungry!”

Y/N and Lando exchanged a quick glance before they both burst into laughter. The moment was broken, but in the best way—Nina always had that effect.

“What’s on the menu today, munchkin?” Lando asked, ruffling Nina’s hair as she climbed onto Y/N’s lap.

“Pancakes!” Nina declared with a big grin.

Y/N smiled, hugging Nina tightly. “Pancakes, huh? I think we can make that happen.”

“Yay!” Nina clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on Y/N’s lap.

Lando got up from his chair, heading toward the fridge. “Alright, team pancake, let’s get to work.”

As Lando started gathering ingredients, Y/N helped Nina down from her lap, and together, they got to work in the kitchen. It was something they had done countless times before, but this time felt different. Everything did.

The three of them moved around the kitchen with ease, like a well-practiced routine. Nina poured the flour, Y/N mixed the batter, and Lando flipped the pancakes, tossing in an extra bit of flair for Nina, who giggled with every flip.

At one point, Lando leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and teasing. “You know, I think you’re rubbing off on me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well,” Lando said, holding up a pancake with a lopsided heart shape in the middle, “I’m starting to get pretty good at these.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Sure you are.”

They shared another quiet moment of laughter, but this time, there was an undeniable tenderness in it. Lando’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as he passed her a plate, and she felt that same warmth flood her chest. The feeling that this was right, that they were right.

-

Once breakfast was done, the three of them sat at the table together, with Nina happily munching on her pancakes while talking animatedly about her day ahead. Lando and Y/N exchanged glances across the table, both of them silently reveling in the ease of this moment. It was just the three of them, but it felt like more.

After breakfast, Lando cleared the table while Y/N helped Nina get ready for the day. As they moved through their morning routine, the unspoken understanding between Lando and Y/N grew. They didn’t need to say anything just yet—there was comfort in the way they worked together, the natural way they fit into each other’s lives.

Once Nina was dressed and ready to play in the garden, Y/N found herself back in the living room, straightening up a few toys Nina had left scattered around. Lando appeared beside her, leaning against the couch as he watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“Y/N…” His voice was softer now, more serious.

She turned to face him, her heart beating a little faster. “Yeah?”

Lando stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. “I’ve been thinking about us. About what this means.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his. “Me too.”

“I know we haven’t really talked about it yet, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Because this? This feels like more than just a moment.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling at his words. “It is more. It’s everything.”

Lando’s smile was soft but filled with so much emotion that it made Y/N’s chest ache. “I don’t want to rush anything, but… I want this. I want us.”

Y/N took a step closer, her free hand reaching up to rest against his chest. “I want that too, Lando. I want us to figure this out together.”

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. But there wasn’t any. Y/N was sure of this, sure of them.

“You know, Nina adores you,” Lando said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “She’s always asking when you’ll come over. And seeing the two of you together… It makes me realize how lucky I am.”

Y/N’s heart melted at his words. She had always loved Nina as if she were her own, and hearing Lando say those things only deepened her feelings for him. “I adore her too, Lando. And I… I adore you.”

His eyes softened, and before Y/N could say anything more, Lando leaned in and kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but this time there was more behind it. The promise of something new, something real.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. “We’ll take it slow,” she whispered. “For Nina. For us.”

Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, slow sounds perfect.”

Just as they were about to kiss again, a loud crash echoed from the garden, followed by Nina’s triumphant shout. “I did it!”

Y/N and Lando both burst into laughter, stepping apart as they looked out the window to see Nina standing proudly next to a stack of garden toys she had knocked over.

“We’d better go check on our little troublemaker,” Lando said with a grin, taking Y/N’s hand as they headed outside together.

As they walked into the garden, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. A new chapter for all three of them.

And it was exactly where she wanted to be.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also I’ve started a community feel free to join! Currently working on part 4! If you want to be tagged leave it in the comments!

Also currently heartbroken by Daniel leaving f1💔

*:･ﾟtags; @barcelonaloverf1life @fanficweasley @obxstiles @missnxthingg @trisharee @myescapefromthislife

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

You were always meant to be with Logan, but your ex is Erik

Erik had cheated on you, you never wanted that to happen to you. You watched it happen with your parents and you promised to never do it. Even when you felt the urge you knew it was impulsive of your insecurities and doubts, not you. Because you loved Erik, in a way that you tried to understand him for so long, that you lost parts of yourself.

You had met Logan in the 60s when you tried to recruit him, even back then he'd flirted with you. Erik growing jealous and taking it out on you later, in bed. That's the way the two of you communicated, through sex, usually rough and quiet. He'd talk with you afterwards but there is gut feeling deep down that it was over. When he got arrested, you were pissed telling him to not get involved with the president, but he wouldn't listen.

When a future Logan came back to the 70s, he was immediately drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Little did you know that the two of you were together in the future. As he woke up to you, coincidentally last night had been the night the two of you met. Your arm slung around him, as he turned over, he gave you head before fucking you slow and hard. Savoring every moment, he had with you, knowing you would go back to Erik one last time before waiting for him.

In the future, the two of you in love, married, you even have a child and another on the way. This mission was important, but he was in love with you. Even if you were different now, and you were freshly off being with Logan. He wouldn't mind being the reason you got over him. His memory would be wiped before he met you again.

Though even after the two of you wound up hooking up, you went back to Erik, leaving with him before he decided he was going to leave you.

You watched him on and off with Mystique for years, cheating on you, leaving you for months at a time. You wanted to settle down, start a family, something that he left you for. He met a different woman and you found your own way in the world. Fresh off the breakup, as he'd been cheating on you for months before he proposed to this other woman.

Wondering through the world heartbroken, you stumbled upon Charles and the X-men. Due to your mutation, you didn't age, a reason why Erik didn't want you, he'd grow old, and you wouldn't. Though he didn't mind that trait in Mystique, you thought. Because even after his wife died, he went after you trying to bring you on to his side, saying that you were the love of his life. Your emotions made you stumble over yourself, giving in to him for the night but going back to where you belonged in the morning.

Somewhere in Erik's mind he believed that Charles brainwashed you. Though he did quite the opposite, giving you a space to be free, think for yourself and be treated with more respect than Erik ever gave you. For a guy so high and mighty about saving mutants, he's gotten many killed in his lifetime. Something you also had to blame yourself for when you were standing by his side.

But then eventually you had told Erik off in the end, explaining that you didn't want him. Living years alone, watching others like Jean and Scott fall in love and stay together for years. When Logan came around, he immediately had a crush on you. Making you flustered with jokes and flirting, stolen moments together. You had told him a piece of his past and he believed you. Taking in every word and confirming that he'd met you in the past. Though he didn't go into detail, eventually you did. Slowly revealing the full truth that the two of you had filthy hot sex in a hotel room.

The two of you slowly falling together and when he planned on leaving, he left you with his metals, promising to be faithful and to always come back to you. Kissing you on the lips before leaving with a bag slung over his shoulder. He had been back, the two of escaping with the kids before trying to get them to safety. At one point, you had to fight Magento, coming head to head with your ex. Showing him that you weren't just doe-eyed deer with no direction, you were strong and eventually you'd gotten the serum and you left him powerless.

tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[clrasecretdiary]

Why does she give a damn about me? | Spencer Reid x Reader

cutesy, cheesy fluff

In wich Spencer thinks reader is out of his league but she could not be more into him.

Content: Garcia is a queen as always, sunshine!reader

Warnings: Maybe some light lack of self steem from spence, but nothing crazy!!

He was used to it at this point. Being the weird kid in high school and college, Spencer never really expected anyone to be into him and, after being rejected a couple of times, he had practically closed himself off in that sense. But then, you came into the picture.

You are one of those girls that everyone seemed to gravitate toward, not only because of your beauty but because of your essence. You were genuinely kind, smart and good with people in a way he wished he was, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you, you had all the qualities he wished he had and being close to you made him feel complete.

Needless to say that he was in love with you, it had started as an admiration and when he realized he was thinking about you all the time, but he was sure you would never be into guys like him, he was sure you’d never see him as more than friends.

–

You had joined the team a few years ago, you were excited to finally be doing what you really wanted when you joined the BAU, going out in the field and being on cases instead of just working a desk job all the time. When you first met the team, everyone seemed very welcoming but you felt yourself especially drawn to Spencer out of all people, at first he seemed distant but with time you noticed how sweet he was and how much he cared for everyone around him and god that man was so funny, you loved his weird science jokes and his magic tricks. How were you supposed to not fall in love with him? You asked yourself that question every time he brought you coffee in the morning or went on his rambles about some random thing.

After a particularly intense inquiry from a very drunk Garcia in one of the girls' nights she organized at her home, you told her your feelings for Reid and she made you swear you would act on it.

“Garcia, I'm not confessing. He's not into me like that, i’ll just ruin our friendship”

“Oh honey, he practically kisses the floor you walk in, he follows you around the office like a lost puppy and practically kills any officer that dares to be the tiniest bit mean to you. There’s no way he’s not into you, at least try pretty please” She says, doing puppy eyes at you. Garcia took her job as a cupid very seriously and was not going to let this be her first fail.

“Alright, i’ll try but if he ends up hating me you’ll have to bake me cookies everyday until i die” You say rolling your eyes and finishing your glass of wine.

“Ohhh i’ll be cooking cookies for you guys wedding!”

–

So, here you are holding his favorite order from the local coffee shop and gathering the courage to press the button to the elevator

“Hey are you fine?” A familiar voice calls you, when you turn around its spencer.. Great, guess you’ll have to do this right now

“Oh hi yeah, I was just um… meditating”

“Did you know meditanting has been proven to increase your memory and is also great for reducing anxiety. I really should start doing it, what method do you use?” Spencer says while pressing the button to the elevator

“Ummm breath in, breath out i think” You say, unsure how to respond

“That's actually one of the best ways as it oxygenates your brain and helps it work better, it can also help you feel more calm since deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system that sends a signal to your brain to tell the anxious part that you're safe and don't need to use the fight, flight response” He says, doing the little smile and head nod thing he always does after info dumping.

You smile back at him, as you both enter the elevator and press the button to the BAU floor.

“I brought you something” You say, handing him the coffee shop bag

He opens it and smiles at you “I can’t believe you remembered my favorites, thank you so much” You love that smile so much, all you can think about is how perfect he is and how there’s no way you can continue on without dating this man.

“Actually, I need to tell you something spence… I was thinking, maybe we could go out together as like, a date or something” You say, already blushing from the embarrassment you felt and how scared you were that he did not reciprocate the feelings.

“Really? Of course i want, to be honest i’ve wanted to ask you to be honest but i thought you’d never see me like that”

“Are you kidding me spencer? I’ve had a crush on you since we first meet”

The elevator gets to the office, and you both walk in blushing and joking about how you two were so blind to each other's feelings. As you get in, garcia passes by you two stopping to stare

“There’s something happening here…” She says, pointing between you two and pressing her eyes together as if she’s profiling you two

“I asked him out”

“Oh my god finally, you see? I’m always right, I don’t even need to ask what he said, look at Reid, he’s glowing, ohh i’m so happy” She says, walking out to probably tell the news to everyone on the team.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 11 - 'Go | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.3k

When the clock neared 7 AM in Madrid, Jude knew it would be late for you in New York, and although he didn’t know you weren’t there he couldn’t wait any longer. You were laying imagining him this same morning, seeing him, grumbling at his alarm, refusing to get out of bed. But then you imagined his usual routine—how he’d eventually get up, stretch his muscular frame, and peel off his clothes before stepping into the shower. The thought made you sigh, your emotions a mix of longing and frustration. Jude was imagining you stepping out of a shower of your own. How you used to wind down for the night, leaning over his vanity in tiny shorts, your ass out, as you applied your skincare. You’d turn around and wink at him with a coquettish laugh that was haunting him. The smell of you filling the room. It was a scent now he wished he could’ve bottled. Unable to resist any longer, he reached for his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact, his heart was racing with both fear and hope. What if you didn’t want to see him? But what if you did? He took a deep breath and began typing, his heart pounding in your chest.

‘I’m coming to see you’

He stared at the message, his mind stilling as the familiarity of it all washed over him. He was commanding because he’d had enough. He needed you back. The anxiety, the excitement, the undeniable connection you shared—it was all there, in those few simple words. He hit send. The message pinged on your phone, the sound breaking the early morning silence. You reached for it groggily, assuming it’d be anyone but Jude, your heart skipping a beat when you saw who it was from. Your stomach dropping. As you read his message, a slow, relieved smile spread across your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you read the message. For the first time in weeks, you felt something other than the dull ache that had been plaguing you since you left. The possibility of him wanting to come to New York brought a flicker of hope, though it was tangled with nerves. What did it mean? Was he coming to make things right, or just to say goodbye? 

To say Jude been in a terrible funk ever since you left would’ve been an understatement. Nights had become endless stretches of sleeplessness, and his performance on the pitch had suffered as a result. His frustration boiled over in ways that were unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He’d even snapped at his mum a few times, something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager. Jude knew he needed to talk to someone about what was going on, but the idea made him cringe. He didn’t want to admit how deeply you had gotten under his skin. He knew if he opened up to someone like Trent, he’d undoubtedly tell him to fix it, or to Toby, who’d probably suggest he forget about you altogether. Neither of those options felt right. But the silence in his room at night was getting too loud. He’d spend hours just staring at pictures of you, writing in his notebook, the memories only making the emptiness worse. Eventually, it got to the point where he couldn’t hold it in any longer, and the tears came—tears he never thought he’d shed over anyone, let alone a girl. Jude wasn’t the type to cry. He didn’t let himself get that vulnerable. But with you, everything was different. He was different and it was time he grew up. One evening as you were helping Whitney put Teddy down for sleep, Trent got an unforeseen but not unexpected call from Jude. He didn’t tell Jude you were down the hall, he kept it to himself, figuring it wasn’t his place to meddle. But he had been watching Jude struggle, not just on the pitch but in everything. His mate wasn’t himself, and Trent knew why, even if Jude wasn’t ready to admit it yet. Tonight they were casually chatting about football as they always did. Jude was unusually quiet, which wasn’t like him. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes amidst tactics, but this time, he contributed little. 

"You’ve been off lately, mate." Trent, noticing, finally broke the awkwardness, his tone light but deliberate. Jude had clearly called for Trent’s comfort but was hiding behind the guise of football.

“Just tired, I guess. Football's been... rough. I’ve been rough.” Jude shrugged, trying to play it off. Trent raised an eyebrow to himself, seeing though the deflection. 

“Come on, we all get tired, it’s mid season but this isn’t just that. You’re not playing like yourself. You’re not acting like yourself.” Trent hesitantly called him out. Jude rubbed the back of his neck, looking down as if he could avoid Trent through his phone that way.

“Yeah, well, I’m working through it.” The conversation drifted for a few more minutes, Jude trying to focus on tactics, on form, on anything but the real issue at hand. But Trent wasn’t going to let it go that easily, not after he’d seen how this was affecting you. 

“This is about her. It’s because you’re missing her.” After a pause, his voice softer but more direct, Trent bluntly told him.  Jude froze at the mention of you. He hadn’t expected Trent to go there, even though, deep down, he knew Trent saw right through him. Jude’s jaw clenched as he stared at his feet, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to admit it, not because it wasn’t true, but because saying it out loud felt like tearing open a wound he hadn’t yet figured out how to heal. Trent waited patiently, not pushing too hard but not letting it go either. It was time. They’d talk about relationships here and there but you’d become less of a conversation since things turned sour and Jude needed to face the music because now people were getting hurt. Trent wasn’t going to have you come to his house crying and let Jude get away with it.  “You’ve been a mess since she left, man,” Trent continued, his tone gentle but firm. “And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but it’s why you’re struggling, it’s why she’s hurting, you know it as well and maybe it’s time you face it.” Jude’s hands were gripping his knees now, his mind racing. He didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. The regret. The love. The guilt. It all tangled together into a knot that sat heavy in his chest, impossible to untangle.

“I… I’m in love with her.” Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. The admission hung in the air. Jude had said it, the words that had been building inside him for so long. “I know I’ve been in love with her.” Jude whispered again, almost silent. His words came out raw, as if he hadn’t meant to let them slip, but there they were, impossible to take back now.

“There he is. Good lad. Finally,” Trent said, his voice filled with a quiet pride. Trent smiled softly, almost able to hear the weight shift off his friend’s shoulders. 

“I know. I know. You were right but bro….” Jude admitted that Trent had been right but it was through gritted teeth. Jude didn’t want to hear Trent’s cockiness right now. “Nothing feels right without her,” Jude admitted, his voice strained. “I can’t function. Every day... it’s like I’m half here, half somewhere else. She’s always in my head.” Jude vented, Trent leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. 

“That’s because you’re in love with her, mate. It’s not supposed to be easy when you’re apart or in a riff. But here’s the thing: you don’t just let it sit there and eat at you. You have to do something about it.” Trent had a sly smile pulling on his lips. 

“I fucked up. Badly. I don’t even know how to fix it.” Jude sighed, running a hand over his hair.

“You can’t fix everything overnight,” Trent said wisely. “But at least you're finally being honest about it, finally admitting something you’ve known for ages… I’ve known for ages.” Trent softly laughed. “Bro. you love her… it’s about time you owned up to it but I’m not the one you should be telling.” Jude sat quietly for a moment, letting the conversation sink in. He felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be in a long time. But at the same time, there was a strange sense of relief in saying the truth out loud, in finally admitting that everything about you—about the relationship, about the love he tried to deny—was real and important.

“Do you think it’s too late?” Jude asked, his voice barely audible. Trent smiled knowing, calm. 

“It’s not too late if you mean it. She should know, mate. But you can’t just say it, Jude. You have to show her. You fucked up and you gotta accept that. You have to prove it. She deserves that, doesn’t she?” Jude nodded to himself, his throat tight with emotion. “I know a girl like Y/N and she’s not just going to forget the fact that you’ve been a right ass to her.” Trent laughed a little. You and Whitney weren’t that alike but you both were similar in the way you were going to let someone treat you like shit, probably you more than Whitney, and Trent needed Jude to be prepared for that. 

“I know…. But yeah, she does. She deserves everything.” Jude muttered hating himself a bit more for the circumstances he’s put you in. Trent knew you were in love with Jude and so he was encouraging to him but he didn’t want Jude to think this was all resolved by him admitting that. Frankly that bit was just long overdue and probably the easiest bit. 

“Then give her everything. Don’t half-ass it. If you want her back, you have to show her you’re all in.” Jude took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of what Trent was saying. He knew his friend was right. You were everything he wanted, and it was time to stop running from that truth. It was time to stop being afraid.

“Do you think…” Jude began to hesitantly ask Trent a question. 

“Go.” Trent told him, cutting him off. Jude didn’t need to finish his sentence. Trent knew what he would be asking.  Jude stood up, feeling lighter than he had in months, even though he knew the real work was still ahead of him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was ready to face it. Ready to face you. 

And the next morning, this morning, was the time. The warmth that spread through your chest when you saw his message was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like a light had been switched back on, and you realized just how much you’d missed that feeling. The idea that he wanted to come to New York made your heart ache with a mix of hope and fear, but most of all, it made you feel alive again. Jude's thoughts had swirled as he clutched his phone, his chest tightening with the realization that he couldn’t ask you to come to him anymore. You weren’t just anyone—you were someone who truly mattered to him, in ways he was still trying to understand. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you deserved more than just a half-hearted gesture. You deserved everything, and he wanted to be the one to give it to you. As the minutes ticked by, Jude sat on the bed, staring anxiously at his phone. He prayed for a response, something to tell him that reaching out hadn’t been a mistake. But as the clock inched closer to 7:30, the silence on the other end felt like a rejection. Jude’s heart sank, and before he knew it, tears were building on his lash line. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling the covers over his head in a futile attempt to shut out the growing despair. Maybe you weren’t going to respond. Then, in the darkness, his phone vibrated. He almost didn’t believe it at first, thinking he’d imagined it in his desperation. But the vibration happened once more, and with trembling hands, he reached for his phone. The brightness of the screen burned his eyes.

‘Please.’ 

That’s all you could say but it was potent. In that moment, everything you both had been feeling—the fear, the doubt, the heartbreak—melted away, replaced by a surge of emotions neither of you could barely contain. Albeit digital, but a bridge had been formed. He was coming to you. You started to cry. The tears that had been primarily of despair now flowed with something else entirely—relief, hope, but most of all… love. You didn't fully understand the weight behind Jude’s text, but your emotions surged all at once, blending tears with laughter. You sprang out of bed, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you began frantically throwing your things into your luggage. The excitement propelled you up the stairs of the massive house, and without hesitation, you barged into Whitney and Trent’s room. You landed on their bed like a child, your energy infectious.

"Good morning."  Whitney greeted you with a sleepy laugh and a warm smile. 

"He texted me!" You blurted out, your voice tinged with a mix of relief and exhilaration. As you explained your plan to leave immediately and get back to New York before Jude arrived, Whitney's eyes lit up with excitement for you. You chatted excitedly, Whitney offering encouragement and support and a bit of caution while you rambled about not wanting to reveal that you'd been staying with them. A smug smile curled on Trent’s lips, still half-asleep. As you continued to ramble to Whitney, it suddenly dawned on you that both Whitney and Trent were naked under the blankets. You couldn't resist teasing them with a playful grin.  "Sorry for barging in on you two," you quipped, eyes twinkling as you got up to make your way back downstairs to finish packing.  With each step, your excitement grew. You were going back to New York, and Jude was coming to you. It felt like the beginning of something important, something you weren’t ready to let go of. 

“Took him fucking long enough.” Trent yawned with a stretch pulling Whitney into him. Whitney giggled, laying her head onto his chest. 

Jude hesitated in the hallway, his phone still in his hand remembering Trent’s quiet, but powerful ‘go.’ Trent’s words hung in the air, echoing in Jude’s head, as if they were the push he needed, the final nudge over the edge. He stared down at the phone, the weight of the moment settling over him like a blanket. He wasn’t sure if he could fix it, if you would even want to hear him out, but Trent’s simple word, his unspoken encouragement, gave him the clarity he had been chasing for weeks. Taking a deep breath, Jude slipped his phone into his pocket and headed towards the kitchen, where his mum, Denise, was finishing her morning tea. She glanced up when he entered, her expression soft and warm, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of concern. She had sensed that things had been off with Jude lately, though he hadn’t said much. She smiled at him softly, almost as if she knew exactly what was on his mind without him having to say a word. Jude stood there for a moment, shifting awkwardly, unsure how to broach the topic.

“Mum…” he began, his voice lower than usual, almost timid. “I need a favor.” He muttered.

“What is it, love?” Denise set her cup down and looked at him, her eyes patient, waiting.  Jude swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He had been running from this for too long, burying his feelings, and now it was all spilling out.

“Could you drive me to the airport?” The question hung in the air for a moment, and Denise’s eyes softened, understanding immediately what this was about. She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as if the tension she’d been holding for her son was finally easing. 

“Finally,” she said with a sigh of relief, her voice gentle but filled with a knowing warmth. She had been waiting for him to take this step, to stop avoiding what was clearly breaking his heart. Jude blinked, slightly taken aback by her reaction, but also relieved. It felt like a weight had been lifted, like he wasn’t carrying the burden of uncertainty alone anymore. Denise stood up and walked over to him, wrapping him in a hug. “It’s about time, Jude.” He hugged her back, his chest tightening. He didn’t know what would happen when he got to England, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he was doing the right thing. Finally facing what he’d been running from. “Go get your things, I’ll drive you.” As they pulled apart, Denise gave him a reassuring smile. Jude nodded, feeling a sense of urgency settle in his bones. This was it. It was time to fight for what mattered most. He turned and headed towards his room to grab his things, his mind racing with the thought of seeing you, of finally telling you everything he should have said long ago. He knew he was late. But at least he was on his way now.

You knew Jude was planning to come to New York, but everything felt so uncertain. You had an idea of when he might show up, but no concrete details. So, when there was a knock at your apartment door, your heart raced. You froze, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of you. Could it be him? Suddenly, a wave of nervous energy hit you, and you bolted to your bedroom. You threw on a tank top, one that accentuated your curves just enough, and adjusted the straps hastily. Running your hands over the fabric, you tugged it down a little lower, exposing more of your cleavage. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and with every second that passed, you felt the anticipation grow. You could hear another knock at the door. Before answering, you stopped at the mirror in the hallway, frantically fixing your hair. You adjusted a stray strand, trying to look effortlessly composed. Slowly, you approached the door, your pulse quickening with each step. When you opened it, you felt like your legs might buckle beneath you—but then your heart shattered.

It wasn’t Jude.

It was a delivery man, holding a massive bouquet of flowers. You stood there, blinking in confusion as a lump formed in your throat. The delivery man smiled politely, handing you the flowers. ‘For you,’ he said simply. You barely managed a thank you, feeling the weight of disappointment crash over you. You took the flowers, and as soon as you shut the door behind you, the tears welled up. You sat down on the couch, trembling, bracing yourself to read a note from Jude. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe this was a goodbye wrapped in beautiful blooms. The uncertainty gnawed at you, and as you hesitantly reached for the card nestled among the flowers, your breath hitched. You feared the worst, and the tears that had been brimming finally spilled over, blurring your vision as you prepared yourself for whatever words were written inside. Your fingers trembled as they pulled the note from the delicate bouquet. The flowers were beautiful, but all you could focus on was that small, fragile piece of paper nestled between the blooms. You felt sick to your stomach as you slid it free, your hands shaking uncontrollably. Everything seemed to hang in the balance of what was written on that card. You had been bracing yourself for a goodbye, or worse, an apology that would tear at your already raw heart. But when you unfolded the note, what you saw wasn’t anything you’d expected.

‘I know I’m late but I’m here now. Please let me in, Angel.’

Just a couple words. So simple, but they hit you harder than anything you had prepared for. Your breath caught in your throat, the tears that had been quietly lingering in your eyes now rolling down your cheeks without permission. You blinked, brushing the tears away, staring at the words again as if reading them a second time would make them change. But they didn’t. They were as real as the ache deep in your chest. You set the flowers down, your hands still trembling, and stared at the door. You felt frozen in place, as if opening it meant opening something much deeper inside you. You didn’t know if you were ready. How could you be? Everything between you had been broken, shattered in a way you didn’t think could be pieced back together. But then again, you assumed, there he was, outside that door, asking to be let in. You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You took a shaky breath and pushed some strands of hair back, fixing the edges of your appearance, as if that would somehow prepare you for the emotional storm that was about to blow through your life again. As you stepped toward the door, each step felt heavy with anticipation, your heart thudding louder with every inch closer. You stopped in front of it, your hand hovering over the handle, taking in one last shaky breath. You could practically feel his presence on the other side. Your chest felt tight, and for a moment, you wondered if you could actually go through with this. Your mind was racing with memories — all the good times, the heartbreak, the questions left unanswered. But you couldn’t deny that you wanted this moment, that you needed to see him again, no matter how much it scared you. With trembling hands, you finally unlocked the door and slowly, ever so carefully, opened it. And there he was. Jude stood in the doorway, tall and familiar, his face looking more vulnerable than you had ever seen it before. His dark eyes locked onto yours instantly, and in that moment, you felt the ground drop from beneath you. It was the same Jude you had known, the one who had held you, loved you, and then left you. The boy who had broken your heart. And yet, seeing him there, standing so close, you were overwhelmed by how much you still loved him. The air felt thick between you, the silence stretching out. Neither of you spoke for what felt like forever. You just stood there, frozen, taking each other in, hearts racing but words caught somewhere in your throats. Jude’s expression softened, and he took a small step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"Angel," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. The word itself was enough to make your knees weak, your heart breaking all over again, but in a different way this time.  Tears filled your eyes again, but you didn’t brush them away this time. You couldn’t. The weight of all the feelings you’d kept inside for so long was crashing over you like a wave. You wanted to be angry, you wanted to tell him how much he had hurt you. But all you could feel in that moment, staring at him, was how much you still loved him. Despite everything. He took another step toward you, his hand reaching out, hesitant but gentle. His fingers brushed against your cheek, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, despite the ache it brought. You closed your eyes for a second, letting the warmth of his hand on your skin ground you. “I’m here,” Jude whispered, his voice soft but full of meaning. And in that moment, it felt like enough. Like that was all you had ever wanted to hear. Your lip trembled as you tried to find words, but nothing came out. It was all too much. The feelings, the memories, the love, and the pain. It was overwhelming. 

“You’re here," you finally choked out, the words barely a whisper, but they hung in the air between you. Jude’s eyes softened even more, his thumb gently brushing a stray tear away from your cheek.

“I fucking missed you so much,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret. “I’m so sorry, Angel.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to hear the apology, not yet. All you wanted was him. His presence. His warmth. But then reality set in. Like a rubber band to the back of your neck. You stepped a bit away from him. His hands dropping from your face. The tension going thick in the air. Your body went cold to him. You looked at him on the verge of a sob. Here he was, standing in front of you, his presence filling the room like a storm about to break.  He looked different—more tired, more raw. His eyes locked on yours the second he stepped in, as if you were the only thing he’d been searching for. You froze, heart racing, unsure of what was going to happen next. Jude’s brow furrowed. He could feel the shift. Almost as if you were going to slam the metaphorical door shut to your heart. “Nah, enough of all this, alright?” Without wasting another second, he spoke again, his voice sharp, cutting through the silence. His tone was more harsh than you expected now, and it startled you. “I’m done getting my feelings hurt.”  He stepped closer, and despite the towering stature he usually carried with such ease, you scoffed. Your eyes, hardened from weeks of silence and heartache, met his. 

“You’re getting your feelings hurt?” you asked, mocking him as the words felt absurd coming from someone like him. Jude, always in control, always untouchable, now standing here telling you he was the one hurting. But Jude was quick—he closed the distance between you with another short stride. His hands were on your face again before you could even register it, his touch both gentle and firm as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His fingers dug lightly into your skin, but it wasn’t the pressure that made your breath hitch—it was the look in his eyes. You’d never seen him like this. His gaze bore into you, unwavering, filled with something deeper, something almost desperate.

“Yes, my feelings hurt because being apart from you has been the worst experience of my life. I’m done with it,” he said, his voice cracking at the edges. “I’m done pretending. I’m done with all this bullshit. I’m done with hurting you, with hurting myself.” You tried to pull away, tried to come up with something to say, something to protect yourself, but he wouldn’t let you. His grip on your face tightened, his eyes glistening with a vulnerability that left you speechless. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. 

“Jude.” You tried to caution him. You were suddenly filled with fear of hearing or maybe not hearing the three words that had defined the past. It felt like your emotions were a pendulum swinging back and forth. You couldn’t control them.

“I love you, Y/N.” Jude said, the words falling from his lips like they’d been trapped inside him for far too long. The world stopped for a second, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him. “I love you.  And I’ve been in love with you.” Jude took a deep breath as his eyes glazed with emotion.Your breath hitched. For a second, you felt paralyzed. You’d waited so long to hear those words, but now they felt too heavy to bear. You wanted to be angry, to remind him of all the times he hurt you, but the moment he said it, something shifted inside you. “I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it to your face but I’ve known.” Your lips parted, but before you could say anything, Jude continued, his voice rough with feeling. “I’ve been an idiot, okay? I know I have. I’ve been selfish, and I’ve done things I shouldn’t have. I’ve hurt you—God, I know I’ve hurt you and seeing you hurt was the most painful thing. But none of them mattered. None of them were you. No one is you.” You shook your head, disbelief flooding your chest. 

“Then why?” you managed to get out, your voice trembling. You had to know. “Why did you sleep with other people if it was always me? Why did you entertain them like I was nothing? Why was I nothing?” Your voice wavered and almost faded into silence as the weight of it all hit you, the pain of months, maybe years of uncertainty collapsing in on you. But his eyes—they were locked on yours, and for the first time, you saw it. The fear, the regret, the love.

“You were never nothing. You were exactly the opposite. You were everything and it was terrifying. You once told me that I made you weak but it couldn’t be more on the contrary. It felt like I was losing control and that was the only way to hold onto the old me. But I’m not that person. I haven’t been that person for a long time. I’ve never been good at telling people how I feel but you made me, not want, but need to try. I need you to know I love you.” Jude admitted, his voice hoarse, like the confession was tearing him apart. “I was scared. I was trying to hold onto some stupid idea of who I thought I needed to be. I was running from what I was feeling because I didn’t know how to handle it. But I can’t anymore, you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who loves how all consuming loving you is. Who embraces that you fill my every thought.” His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Your chest tightened, your anger wavering, giving way to something else—something softer. He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke again, quieter this time, almost as if he was scared of the weight of the truth. “I’m so madly, stupidly in love with you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “It’s always been you. It’s only ever been you since I first met you, angel.” Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there, frozen in his arms, your heart pounding in your chest. You’d never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so open. His confession hit you like a wave, knocking down all the walls you had built to protect yourself from him.  “I love you,” he repeated, his voice trembling, the words slipping out between shaky breaths. “I don’t want to be without you. I can’t.” You were both crying now, silent tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath. The moment felt surreal, like you were floating in some bizarre, euphoric haze but everything was clear but you couldn’t respond, nothing would come out so Jude kept talking. “If you want me to go… If you don’t want to be with me, I understand. I know I hurt you. Hurt you more than you ever deserve to be. I just needed you to know, I needed to look into your eyes and tell you how much I love you. To apologize and thank you. Y/N, thank you for letting me know you. It’s been the greatest privilege of my life to matter to you and I’m sorry I didn’t show you that before…” Jude tried to keep talking but you grabbed his face and pulled him into a desperate kiss. 

When Jude arrived in New York, his nerves were shot. He had played in front of tens of thousands of people, faced the pressure of the world watching his every move, but this—this was different. He had never felt more determined or more terrified in his life. Every step up to your apartment door felt like it was carrying the weight of all the mistakes, all the missed chances, all the words he should’ve said. But he had to do this. He had to make things right. It wasn’t the reunion either of you had imagined, but it was real. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You could feel the weight of his presence, and every emotion—anger, sadness, love—rushed to the surface all at once.

“I’m so sorry, angel” Jude pulled away from the kiss with a serious expression, his voice low and steady. “But I’m not here for sorry. I’m here to tell you I love you. You need to know how much I love you. I should’ve said that a long time ago.” Your bottom lip quivered. His eyes searching yours.  “I love you so much.” Jude cooed. "God I fucking I love you more than I can manage," he repeated, more forcefully this time. Jude watched your face fill with sadness. Like it hurt to hear all of this. He didn’t want you to be hurt anymore. “Come here.” Without waiting for you to respond, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. But it wasn’t suffocating—it was grounding. For the first time, it felt like Jude was holding on to you like he never intended to let go. Your walls crumbled. Completely. You collapsed against his chest, the sobs coming hard and fast. It wasn’t just crying—it was every emotion you’d suppressed since Madrid pouring out. The betrayal, the insecurity, the hope, the love. It all flooded out as you buried your face into his shirt, your fingers clutching the fabric like it was your lifeline. “I’ve been so wrong,” Jude murmured against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “So wrong about everything. But you don’t have to show me how wrong I was anymore. I see it. I know it. You have me now, alright? You have all of me. I don’t want anything else.” His words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing through the remnants of your resistance. His arms were still around you, tight and secure in a way they had never been before. You weren’t afraid of him slipping away. You weren’t afraid of losing him in the noise of his life. He was here, and he was real. You pulled back slightly, enough to look up at him through tear-stained eyes. 

“Please don’t hurt me anymore,” you choked out, your voice breaking as more tears spilled down your cheeks. “Promise me you won’t hurt me anymore.” you whimpered. Jude cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. His own eyes were glassy now, filled with the sincerity of someone who had finally realized what they stood to lose. “

“I promise,” he whispered, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I won’t ever hurt you. Not again. Never again.”  You nodded, but the tears kept coming. It was as if all the pain and heartache of the past months were being released in this one moment, and you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to.  Jude kissed the top of your head, his grip on you still tight. “It’s done,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “All the back and forth, it’s over. You have me, all of me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to lose you again.” His words echoed in your mind as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, both of you crying. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t some magical fix. But it was real. For the first time, it felt like you were both standing on solid ground. Together. And in that moment, as your tears began to slow and your heart settled into the rhythm of his, you believed him. You believed his promise. You believed in the love you had for him and the love he was finally ready to give you back. 

After the entryway reunion, the relief you felt was both overwhelming and terrifying. After everything—the heartache, the distance, the uncertainty—it was all hitting you at once. But despite the rush of emotions, you let him inside, past the threshold of your apartment for the first time since your reconciliation. Jude stood there for a moment, taking in the space with a soft smile on his lips. His eyes held a tenderness, one that made you feel like you had nothing to hide, even though everything between you had been so complicated. 

“Can I have a tour?” Jude asked, his voice warm and playful. 

“It’s just an apartment, Jude. There’s only so much to see.” You giggled, feeling a bit self-conscious. Sure, it was larger than your average but nevertheless an apartment. He pulled you into his arms, swaying the both of you back and forth.

“I want to see every inch,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “Every. Single. Inch.” His words, punctuated by soft kisses, melted away the nerves you’d been holding onto. So, you agreed, guiding him through the space that had become your sanctuary in New York.  First was the living room, a space that screamed you. Personal touches were everywhere: your favorite books stacked on the coffee table, a throw blanket in a color Jude remembered you loved, and a few plants that surprisingly looked healthy. Next, you led him to the kitchen. Jude chuckled when he saw it—pristine, untouched, as if it had never been used. 

“I order in. You know this.” He raised an eyebrow at you, but you just shrugged with a laugh. Then came your office, which was flooded with sunlight. The space was cozy, but it had an energy about it, like it was where you were most creative. Jude admired the space, taking in the little details—the organized chaos of your desk, the art on the walls, your notebooks scattered around. It felt like he was seeing a new side of you, one that had grown and flourished while you were apart. You continued the tour, leading him to your walk-in wardrobe that was bursting at the seams with clothes. Jude smiled seeing your Louis duffel but then raised an amused brow, muttering something about how you hadn’t changed a bit, making you roll your eyes in jest. Finally, you reached your bedroom. The moment you opened the door, Jude stilled in the doorway. His breath hitched, his usual confidence faltering as he stared into the room. The atmosphere shifted—it wasn’t just another part of your apartment. It was different. This space felt sacred, personal. He stood there, as if frozen in place, his hand gripping the doorframe. It was as if stepping inside would make this all real, make everything you had been through with him undeniable. Like he could contaminate it and he wanted to be sure you wanted him there. He knew that if he crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. No more walls, no more pretending.  Jude looked at you, his eyes filled with something raw and vulnerable. He wanted to be part of this—your space, your life—but he also knew that with it came a weight of responsibility. He took a deep breath and, without saying a word, finally stepped into the room. In that moment, it felt like a shift, as if the two of you were crossing into something new. Something deeper. Jude turned to you, gently pulling you into his arms again, but this time his embrace was more serious, more intentional.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against your hair, his voice soft but firm. And for the first time, you believed him. 

After your short tour had ended you smiled down at him, feeling a strange mix of joy and disbelief as Jude sat on your bed. There was a brief moment of hesitation-your usual concern about keeping your bed clean of outside germs-but you let it go. This was different. It was Jude. Your Jude, in your bed, and that fact alone outweighed any fleeting worries. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, gently pulling you closer to stand between his legs. His grip was warm and familiar, like everything had finally fallen back into place. You gazed down at him, cupping his face tenderly. The feel of his skin beneath your fingers made your heart swell.

"Are you even allowed to be here?" you asked, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Jude smirked, dropping his hands lower, resting them comfortably on your ass. He squeezed slightly, looking up at you with that mischievous glint in his eye. 

"No," he admitted, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Probably not but no one was stopping me. I've stayed away way longer than I ever wanted." The reality of what he was saying hit you. Jude was in the middle of the season, and you knew there were rules, restrictions, things that could get him in trouble. But here he was, breaking them for you. Choosing you over everything. The weight of that choice settled in, and it filled you with an indescribable warmth.

"Jude." You took a deep breath, calling his name softly, your voice full of emotion. He hummed in response, his lips pressing soft kisses to your stomach as if he couldn't stop himself from touching you, from reminding you that he was here. Really here. You hesitated for a moment, the question heavy on your heart. "Am I worth the risk?” Jude stilled. He looked up at you, his eyes serious, the playful smile fading into something more profound. His hands gently moved to your hips, holding you with care, as if the weight of your question mattered more than anything else in the world.

"You're not a risk," he said quietly, his voice full of certainty. "You're the greatest reward. I'd risk everything for you. And I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't show that sooner. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like a risk again." His words pierced straight through your heart, filling the empty spaces that had been left by doubt and fear. You knew, in that moment, that Jude meant every single word. He wasn't just here to fix things—he was here because he had chosen you, and nothing else mattered more than that.

Since he arrived, you refused to let go of Jude, clinging to him as if any distance between you would break the fragile spell of your reunion. That evening, instead of going out, you decided to stay in. The only light in the room came from the city beyond your windows and a single candle flickering on the table. You were both tucked together on the couch, a half-empty bottle of wine resting nearby.  You lay curled into him, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat—a comforting, steady rhythm that grounded you. Jude's arm was wrapped around you protectively, his fingers occasionally brushing through your hair. Every so often, he would whisper soft words into your ear—sweet compliments and quiet ‘I love yous,’ each one filling the room with warmth. But beneath Jude's affection, there was a quiet ache in his chest. He hadn’t expected this—the fact that you hadn’t said those three words back. He told himself to be patient, that you just needed time. Still, it hurt more than he wanted to admit. After all, he had flown across the ocean, bared his heart to you, and put everything on the line. He had hoped to hear you say it, to feel the reassurance that you still loved him as much as he loved you. You knew you hadn’t said it. Not yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him. You did. God, you did. But the past few months had left you raw and bruised, and the weight of the hurt had made you cautious. You needed to be sure—sure that Jude meant every word, that he was here for good, that you wouldn’t lose yourself again in the pain of being let down. Jude shifted beneath you, his fingers pausing in your hair. He pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there as though waiting for something, for a sign, for you to say something back.

“You okay, angel?” he asked softly, his voice gentle, but you could hear the uncertainty creeping in. He spoke barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid to break the fragile moment hanging in the air. You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, a quiet plea for reassurance, and it tugged at your heart. You nodded, but it wasn’t enough—not for either of you. Jude gently lifted your chin, his eyes searching yours with a quiet intensity, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. You swallowed hard, feeling the lump in your throat as your chest tightened. You were tangled up in a mess of emotions—relief, love, fear—all swirling around inside you. “Is it okay if I love you?” Jude asked with a sly smile, his voice trembling ever so slightly. It wasn’t his usual confident tone; it was laced with uncertainty, a vulnerability you rarely saw in him.You nodded, unable to speak at first, because the truth was, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the fear was there too, gnawing at the edges of your heart. 

“Yeah. I want you too. I’m just…I’m scared,” you finally whispered, the words barely making it past your lips. You looked down, afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of what might happen if you fully let him in again. Afraid of the pain that came with loving someone this much. Jude didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as though he could soothe all the pain and worry away. 

"You're safe with me," he murmured, his voice steady, comforting. He tucked you closer into his chest, like he was trying to shield you from the world, from all the things that had hurt you both. “I promise.” You closed your eyes, letting yourself breathe him in, feeling the warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around you. In that moment, everything else faded away—the doubts, the hurt, the time apart. It was just you and him, right there, and you felt your walls slowly crumbling.

“Jude…” you began, your voice wavering. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I want you to know… I…” You began to stutter through your words. You didn’t think this would be so hard so you took a deep breath trying to reset. “I love you... It’s just… I don’t know” You trailed off, struggling to explain. Jude looked at you, waiting patiently. Taking another deep breath, you finally let yourself say the words that had been sitting on your heart for so long with a bit more certainty. "I’m in love with you. I have been… for a long time." Your voice wavered, and you felt the weight of the confession lift, but at the same time, you were terrified of what came next. Jude’s eyes widened for a second before his face broke into a soft, almost shy sly smile. He ducked his head in an exaggerated, bashful manner, making you laugh through your tears. It was so ridiculous and yet so perfectly him. “Stop!” You giggled. Your nerves draining. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know,” you teased, poking him in the chest with a playful glare. “You knew I loved you.” He grinned, the familiar spark of confidence returning to his eyes, but there was a tenderness there that hadn’t always been so apparent. 

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small shrug. “But hearing you say it, finally hearing those words…” He trailed off, his voice catching for a moment. “From you. It’s perfect.” The way he looked at you—like you were his entire world, like everything in his life had been leading up to this moment—made your heart ache in the best way. You could feel the tears welling up again, but this time they were happy tears, tears of release, of finally letting go of the fear that had been holding you back. You kissed him then, slowly, tenderly, pouring every ounce of love and emotion you had into that kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like the last time you’d been together. It was steady, reassuring, like you were both saying, we’re here, we made it, and we’re not going anywhere this time. When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, your breathing heavy, but the moment felt so light. Jude looked at you, his thumb tracing your jawline, and for the first time in a long time, you saw peace in his eyes. He nodded, his expression softening even though the pain was still there. “I know. I hurt you. And I’m so sorry, angel. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that I mean what I said.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart aching because you knew he meant it, but part of you was still scared.

“I just need time,” you whispered. “I need to be sure.” Jude nodded again, pulling you back into his chest, holding you even tighter. 

“I will make you sure of me but you can take all the time you need. I’ll prove it to you day after day,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.” And as the city lights flickered outside, you lay there in the safety of his arms, both of you knowing that love was there, even if fear was still lingering. It would go in time. You just needed to heal first. "I love you," he whispered again, like it was the only thing that mattered, like he needed to keep saying it just to make sure you knew it was true. "And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I’m not letting you go again. Ever." Your heart swelled, the weight of everything you’d both been through finally lifting. You felt it then—certainty. Not the fear that had been clouding your mind for months, but a deep, unwavering certainty that this, right here, was where you were meant to be. Where you both were meant to be.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve always loved you.” Jude closed his eyes for a moment, letting your words sink in, and when he opened them again, he was smiling, a quiet, content smile that spoke volumes. He wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you into his lap, and buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other, the weight of the past few months finally melting away. The fear, the doubts, the distance—it was all gone, replaced by a love that felt stronger than ever before. And in that moment, you knew—this was it. You had found your home in each other. And while you felt a comfort and a stillness in his arms there was different part of you that was feeling energized, eager, and desperate to be with him in a different way. 

When you finally made it to bed that night, everything felt like a dream. You were together and it was as if all the tension, the distance, and the heartache between you had evaporated. You lay wrapped in his arms, your back snug against his chest, the rhythm of his breathing calming your racing thoughts. For the first time in weeks, everything just felt...right. When your phone rang, you hesitated for a moment before picking it up. It was Whitney, of course. You smiled, feeling a little giddy as her name flashed on the screen. As you answered, her familiar, teasing voice greeted you almost instantly.

"Why do I see a certain Jude Bellingham is in New York on Find My Friends?" she asked, her tone playful. You could hear her giggling through the phone. You opened your mouth to respond, but Jude had already started placing soft kisses along your neck. At first, it was gentle-just enough to send a shiver down your spine-but then the kisses grew more persistent, and his hands started to roam. You felt him pull the fabric of your top up slightly, his warm hand brushing over your stomach in slow, teasing strokes. Whitney was still talking, probably cracking jokes, but you could hardly focus on her words. Jude's touch was making it hard to concentrate, his kisses and his fingertips creating a warmth that made everything else fade into the background. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh or a moan-you weren't sure which would come out-but you knew you were losing the battle. Jude smirked against your skin, clearly sensing your distraction. Without a word, he reached over and took the phone from your hand. He held it up to his ear with a casual confidence, still kissing you, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke into the phone.

"She's busy," Jude said, his voice low and smooth. "You'll have to call her back later. She’s got someone in her bed who loves her." Whitney screamed on the other end of the line, a dramatic and over-the-top shriek that made both you and Jude laugh. You could practically hear her laughing as she tried to compose herself, probably throwing some humorous, exaggerated reaction your way. Jude ended the call with a quick, "Goodnight, Whit," before tossing your phone gently onto the nightstand. He turned his attention back to you, a playful grin spreading across his face as his hand settled once again on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You really didn't have to do that," you whispered, trying to sound annoyed, but the truth was, you loved every second of it. His possessiveness, his confidence-it was intoxicating.

"Oh, I did. I'm not sharing you tonight." Jude pressed his lips to your ear, his voice a soft murmur. His hands reached to pull you on top of him. The covers fell from your body, the cold air hitting your exposed skin.

“Did I say thank you for coming.” You cooed looking at Jude with sincerity in your eyes. You rolled your bottom lip with a bit of a pout. 

“I wanted to come, angel.” Jude told you with mischief flickering in his eyes. He sat up a little as you straddled his lap. His big hands gripped your waist pushing you down onto his hardening cock beneath you. “And I want you to come for me now.” Jude whispered and you felt a shiver run up your spine. His hands slid from your hips up to knead your tits. You whimpered, not used to his hands back on your body.  “So sensitive. Did you think about this, baby? My hands on you again? Been so long.” He mused in a tone that had your skin on fire. You nodded with a desperate pout. Your hips rocked against his cock.  His hands were attempting to touch as much of you as he possibly could. Jude missed you, missed your relationship, but obviously a massive part of him missed having sex with you. Right now you could feel something massive beneath you that you wanted just as much as he wanted to give it to you. His big hands traveled the planes of your body. No one could convince him there was a better place on earth right here in this moment. He grabbed your hips again, rocking his hips up into yours. You moaned, arching your back. His hands ran over your body exactly where he knew and remembered would elicit the reaction he so desperately had been craving to hear from you. He wasn’t hasty though. He wanted to savor this. There was no rush to his movements. They were slow, and more caring than anything else. He sat up right and began peppering your soft and sensitive skin with kisses.  You ran your hands over his shoulders, glided up them around his neck up to his jaw, holding him to you. Until you fell into a rare bliss that only Jude could give you and you gripped his hair needing more of it.  You could feel his teeth softly graze your neck, threatening to sink into your skin at any moment, but he never even nipped at your flesh. His fingers tracing the lace edging of your lingerie teasingly. 

“Jude I missed your hands… I missed your lips. I missed you. I need more.” You moaned. It took Jude moments less than a second Jude had your lingerie peeled off you. Your brain was short circulating you almost forgot how smooth he was. 

“I’ll give you more, baby. I’m all yours tonight.” He whispered to you as he kissed down your exposed chest, his lips grazing your sensitive nipple and taking it gently into his mouth, leaving the teeth tucked away for another night. “Forever.” He muffled against your skin. It was as if your time apart had made it all the more clear that Jude had never felt this way about anyone, he was absolutely and completely whipped for you, and there is no way he will ever let you forget it. “Tell me you love me, angel.” It almost felt like he was pleading to hear it but you weren’t going to hesitate. He never needed to ask, you’d do anything for him, you’d especially do anything for him in bed and he knew that. 

“I love you Jude. I always will,” you whimpered back to him, before quietly repeating ‘I love you.’ again and again. Your words and the sounds of his lips on you echoing in the space of your bedroom, along the limited space between your bodies.

“God, I fucking love you.” Jude muttered, breathing you in, inhaling you in before he rolled you over onto your back as he hovered above you. He picked up your wrists and pinned them above your head. His eyes darkened with lust as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His mouth is demanding, yet tender, and you respond eagerly, your tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm. His hands roam over your body, exploring the curves he knows so well, and you arch into his touch, moaning softly into his mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you had been in this exact position, as Jude’s fingers traced down your body and down the front of your panties he could feel his handiwork. You had drenched the fabric and Jude was just as excited as he was the first time he ever felt you get wet for him. “Is this all for me?” There was an almost boyish grin plastered to his face as he traced his fingers through your folds, the tip of his finger gently circling the entrance to your wet heat, threatening to slip inside of you any second.  Breaking the kiss, Jude began a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He worshiped your body with his lips and tongue, leaving a path of fire in his wake. His hands slid up you, cupping your tits once more, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples. You gasp, your head falling back as pleasure surges through you.

"Jude," you pleaded, your voice breathy and urgent. "Please, I’m serious, I need you." You couldn’t wait any longer. You didn’t want to be teased. He smiled against your skin, his warm breath sending goosebumps along your neck.

"Patience, angel. I’m getting there," he teased, before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You squirm beneath him, your hands tangling in his  hair, urging him on. His other hand travels lower, sliding between your thighs, and he groans at the wetness he encounters. With slow, deliberate strokes, he teases your clit, making you writhe and beg for more.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growls, his voice filled with satisfaction. He plunged a teasing finger into you. Your back arched immediately in response. He slowly worked his fingers, working you over just the way you loved, craved for him to touch you. It was like a game and he had fucking cheat codes. His thumb grazed over your clit, rubbing harsh deliberate circles. Jude was needy for you, for your touch, for your attention. Jude adds another finger, stretching you, filling you, and you match his rhythm, your body moving in sync with his hand. His thumb continues to circle your clit, and you feel your orgasm building, an intense coil of pleasure in your core. You felt like you were seeing stars over and over again. You couldn’t barely even register that he had you cumming on his fingers until you were shaking in the aftershock. “That’s it, angel. Cum f’me.” He encouraged you. “Cum f’me. Gonna make you cum so many times tonight” He greedily whispered, desperate to see you cum for him. You whined, your hips bucked against his hand as his fingers worked you through the high.  “Yeah you like the sound of that angel?”  You nodded deliriously, your inhibitions gone as the pleasure consumed you. Your body trembles as the waves of pleasure wash over you, and Jude continues to stroke and caress you through the climax, murmuring words of love and adoration. “It’s really such a shame you can’t see how beautiful you look when you cum.” He beamed, giddy after getting you to cum after so much time apart. As your breathing slowed, Jude gently removed his fingers, leaving you feeling deliciously empty. He kisses you softly. He licked them clean, savoring the taste of you on his skin. “Or how fucking good you taste.” He greedily smiled. "Baby… I want to be inside you, now, yeah?" He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. His own arousal evident in his boxers, his hard cock tenting and straining against the fabric. 

“Jude please, baby. I need you inside me…” He positions himself between your thighs, his hands under your knees, lifting your legs and spreading you wide. “Now Jude.” You desperately begged. You simultaneously moaned as he pushed into you, only dipping into you a couple of inches. He rocked his hips against yours so you get used to the feeling of his big cock. Slowly fucking himself further into you. With one swift thrust, he filled you, his cock sliding deep into your welcoming heat. His face fell into your neck groaning at the feeling of you wrapping around him. The sensation of being joined together after so long is almost overwhelming. Jude began to move, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your slick pussy. He moved slowly but precisely, able to find the spot you loved instantly. Your nails dug into his back as he kissed your skin. Each stroke loving and thoughtful. He picked up his pace though lost in the feeling.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunts, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. "So tight, so wet. Soaking my cock.” He grunted, hooking your leg over his arm, pushing your thigh up further to your side, hitting deeper inside you. The grip of his fingers on you dug into your soft thigh. The way he held you made it felt as if they’d leave permanent indents on your hips. You matched his pace, your hands gripping his firm ass, urging him deeper with each thrust. The bed creaks beneath you as Jude pounds into you, his balls slapping against your ass, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. “Need to make up for all this lost time. Gonna have to fuck you for days. Can’t believe I havent been able to fuck the love of my life for so long.” Jude told you. His words combined with the slow, tantalizing thrusts he was giving you made you gasp with a whine. “Like that, angel? You like being the love of my life?” He asked and you moaned in response, hearing the name once more. “You are. Don’t fucking forget that.”  The weight of his body on top of yours feeling like nothing compared to the weight lifting off you two. Your orgasm approached faster and faster, minute after minute. He bit onto your earlobe and tugged, grabbing your attention. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" you chant, your voice hoarse with passion. "Please. Harder, Jude, fuck me harder!" You begger and he obliged happily, driving into you with abandon, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. A spot only he knew.  “Oh my god. I missed you.” You whined. You could feel another orgasm building, your pussy tightening around him. Your nails digging into his biceps, your legs wrapping around him, dragging your heel down his muscular back. 

“I know, baby. Doing so good. F’me. Just hold it. Let me cum with you. I wanna cum with you this time.” All you could do in response was nod, the feeling in your stomach driving you wild as you try to hold it off for a while longer. You whimpered. His mahogany eyes poured back into yours. He felt his heart skip a beat when you pulled him back down into a kiss. He fucked you harder with a harsh grunt juxtaposed by the sweetest kiss. Jude picked up his pace beginning to chase his own orgasm. Frankly Jude had been fighting his own release since he got his hands on you, it wasn’t that big of a feat to get there now. His fingers snaked between your bodies finding your clit once again, teetering to keep you on your edge. The sound of sex and love hung in the air of your room, his skin slapping against yours, the sound of your squelching pussy, and your voices soaked in pleasure mixing. 

“Jude…” You whined. You couldn’t hold on any longer. Your bodies move as one, a frenzied dance of passion and desire. You climax in unison, your pussy milking his cock. You collapse in a sweaty, satisfied heap, Jude's weight pinning you to the bed, his heart pounding against yours.

“Yeah, angel? You gonna cum on my cock? Let me see how pretty you look cumming on my cock.” He purred. You didn’t need any more encouragement than that before you were slipping over your edge. The knot in your stomach tightened. It only took a few more mind numbing thrusts before Jude’s head dropped into your neck. Your climax erupting inside of you, your vision going white. His cock throbbed inside of you, beginning to paint your walls. You moaned ‘I love yous’ simultaneously. You felt him pouring into you. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. You hid your face against him. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath ragged in your ear. You smiled, your eyes glistening with happiness. After the intense and emotional reconnection, you lay in Jude's arms, your bodies still intertwined in the warmth of the moment. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, save for the occasional soft breath and the rhythmic beating of Jude's heart beneath your cheek.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 12 xx

[slushycoookie]

Between Two Worlds ~ Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader (Pt.5)

★ Word Count: 3.9k

★ Content: Miguel is so smitten, it's serious. You two also go on a few more dates. The topic of the nature of your relationship comes up. Dana appears...again...

★ A/N: Hey, hey sorry this chapter took so long to come out. And is short! But I wanted to make sure I put this out before I start Kinktober. So enjoy!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩Prev | Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the date last night.

Even as he mindlessly scanned the row of paint cans, looking at his phone for the exact color his mother wanted. Eggshell white and Bahama blue. Yet, he was seeing none of those colors.

It didn't help that his mind kept lingering on you. Reminding himself about how pretty you looked last night. Your beautiful body hugging that dress. How soft you were when you kissed, taking in your full lips to sear it into his memory. It took Miguel almost a hour to convince himself to remove the trace of lipstick from his lips when he settled down last night.

He missed you. He wanted to see you again.

It was clear you did too when you sent him a voice message this morning, saying those words after the usual good morning. Your voice low as if you just woke up, but still sounding just as beautiful.

Miguel needed to focus. His mother wouldn't tolerate him messing around in the store, especially since the exact colors he was looking for were in front of his face the whole time.

He couldn't help but be grateful to his mother for giving him something to do. Otherwise, Miguel would be lying in bed thinking about you all day. He needed you to occupy his space day and night. Be close to you. Touch you.

It gets so bad he wonders what it would be like if you helped him shop.

Would you be able to tell the difference between the paint colors his mom wanted? Would you start looking at colors yourself to prepare for your house? Miguel would be on board to help you, making sure you don’t carry anything heavy. He didn’t want your nails to break. He’s sure you’d wear something on the verge of cute and comfortable during the shopping trip. And he’d try not to stare while he was picking out paintbrushes.

Miguel had to do another date with you soon, or else he’d do something drastic.

He dropped off the materials his mother needed, not wanting to be there longer than he had to. Miguel didn’t want to get into the reason why she was fixing up the house. He caulked it up as her wanting not to mourn for her abusive husband.

Conchata checked off the list as Miguel brought the items inside the house. He wasn’t listening when his phone vibrated. He wondered if it was you. He hoped it was you.

“What's going on with you?”

He freezes when placing the paint cans by the wall in the house.

“What? Nothing.”

“I could've sworn I saw you walk faster.”

“No, I didn't.” Miguel glances at all the materials, paint, caulk to patch up the walls, some roller brushes, etc. Enough to start the home improvement process. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so.”

His eyes land on the tarp on the floor, “You’re not planning to do all of this by yourself, right?”

“I’m not. I hired some people to do it for me. All I have to do is push them around.”

Miguel tries not to shake his head when she holds up swatches along the wall. “Call me if you need anything else.”

He gave her a gentle kiss against her head before taking his leave. When he did so, he checked his phone and felt disappointed when it was just a notification reminding him of the time he went to the museum with Dana. The picture showed both of them at a high-end event, with neutral smiles and dressed up.

When he dated Dana, there was a vast difference between you and her.

Although the incident with her wasn't fresh in his mind anymore, he still remembered what it was like being with her. When they were engaged, everything was relaxed and quiet despite them taking the next steps in their lives.

You were the opposite.

Not chaotic, but ecstatic about the newfound relationship status.

You'd send him messages while Miguel was at work, telling him to have a good day with a swarm of emojis. You'd send him more voice messages, which're filled with various topics. About your own day, what you saw while browsing social media, and he'd listen. You reciprocated too when inviting him to talk about his interests and his day.

Dana hardly did any of that. She'd settle on a good morning before not getting into much detail about her day. Almost bored about the topic. Her eyes were on the verge of disinterest whenever Miguel had a chance to talk about himself.

Then there were the dates.

Dana was more fond of high-end luxuries like five-star restaurants, museums, and theaters. The more expensive, the better. Miguel didn’t have problems with it; he was known to indulge in those pleasantries from time to time. But with you, it was the opposite.

The two of you went to the mall.

You insisted that hanging out for a few hours and window shop would be fun. Miguel figured you'd want to go into one of the luxury stores to browse. Only for you to hardly go into any of them.

He watches you point at a cute handbag on display or dazzling shoes that would fit with your aesthetic at the club. So imagine his surprise when you walk away to look at something else instead of buying it.

“I thought you liked it.”

“I do…” Your eyes skim across more pretty shoes, “But I don't need them.”

“You want them though.” You shrug, and he steps into your line of sight. “I can buy them for you.”

“No, don't do that. I'm good.”

You try to get out of the shoe aisle, but Miguel blocks your path. “I want to. I'm your boyfriend. I want to give you nice things.”

“Did you not see the price tag?” You return to the shoes and pick them up, the price of almost two hundred dollars. “I've rarely bought shoes for that price.”

“I got it.” Miguel takes the shoes, but you hold them close to your chest.

“Hold up. If you buy something for me, I'll buy something for you.”

“I don't need anything.” He tries to take your shoes again, but you turn away.

“You don't have to need anything. But if there's something you want, I'll get it.”

“No, really I'm good-”

“I'm not taking no for an answer, baby.”

Miguel sucks his teeth before agreeing with your proposal. You squeal, more excited to continue your trek around the mall, your new goal being to buy him something he wants.

Dana hardly offered to buy him anything the whole time they were together. She did go out of her away to buy him things, mainly chains or designer watches, but that's for his birthday or Christmas. Not during a random day of the week.

You pointed out multiple stores that fits Miguel’s aesthetic. He decided to go into one that had button down shirts he liked to wear for work. As he browsed through the shirt racks, eyes were on him. Yours were following his movements, ready to grab a shirt that caught his eye.

“How's this?” Miguel holds up a powder blue shirt and you inspect it.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let's get it!”

He can finally relax when satisfying you with his choice, but you notice the tag. “Wait, it's only thirty bucks.”

Miguel also glances at it, “Oh, is that too much? I can get something else-”

“Miguel.” You give him a look, “First off, don't insult me like that again. Secondly, you just spent two hundred dollars on me, which is not the same.”

“Oh.” He looks at the shirt and then back at you. “So, I can get a few more?”

“Yeah, you can.”

Miguel puts more effort into his search. He gets a few more shirts, but the total is still less than what he spent on you. You don't say anything as he thanks you with a bright smile.

Taking a quick break by eating at the food court, Miguel's phone vibrates from Gabriel's message. Without completely looking at it yet, his eyes roll at knowing what the message was going to say, asking the daily question of when he was going to meet you. Sure, it's been two months since he started dating you, but he didn't want to rush you.

Miguel tried to hide his disdain by so much as you were feeding him macaroons. His lips grazing your fingers while taking a bite. Your thumb wiping off the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. Your eyes connecting and you shoot him a wink, the action shooting down to his lower body. He gets a strong urge to pull you back to the car so he can kiss you all over.

He groans when the phone vibrates against the table again.

“Is there a fire somewhere?”

“The fire being my brother. He keeps texting me about wanting to meet you. I keep telling him it depends on when you want to.”

You take a sip from your Boba tea before outstretching your hand. “Gimme.”

As Miguel places his phone in your palm, you casually press video call.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm saying hi to your brother.” You hold up the phone, making sure you were decent for the camera. When the call connects, you flash the biggest smile on the planet. “Hi, Gabriel.”

“Hi? Uh, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

You purse your lips, “He’s munching on some macaroons. Say hi, Miguel.” You briefly turn the phone to Miguel, making him wave before turning the phone back to you.

“Oh. My. God. You're who my brother is dating? Do you know how many times I've been asking to meet you?”

Too many times.

“A lot. It's okay though I've been wanting to meet you too. You're the main one blowing up his phone.”

“Somebody’s gotta do it-Hey, babe!” Gabriel shouts through the phone, making you and Miguel snort. “Come here real quick and meet Miguel’s girl!”

You're laughing when Kasey approaches the phone, waving hello to her.

“Whoa, you're the woman who's dating Miguel? Damn, you're hot.”

Gabriel held his hands up. “My girlfriend said it, not me.”

“Okay, that's enough out of you two.” Miguel reaches for the phone, but is stopped by Gabriel's protest.

“No, wait not until Xina sees her! I know she's not busy. She just told me she was binging that zombie show.”

“Ooh is it the one where if you die, you come back as a zombie?” You ask and Gabriel snaps.

“Yes! That's the one.”

“I lost interest after season four.” Kasey inputs.

“I liked that season!” You add in, “In my opinion, it goes downhill after season eight.”

To Miguel’s surprise, Xina picks up, seeing a bunch of faces on the screen.

“Didn’t I tell you not to bother me because I'm vegging out on my couch?”

“Stop vegging out and meet Miguel’s girlfriend.”

You wave once more, “Hi! It's very nice to meet you.”

“Oh, likewise.” Xina sits up, angling herself to not subject you to her binging phase.

“I'm sorry they sprung this on you. I just wanted to say hi.”

“It's fine. Maybe this will get Gabri to shut up for a while.”

“It won't.” Gabriel interjected, “Because I'm not able to touch you yet. Give you one of my famous hugs.”

“You don't want that.” Miguel whispered over to you.

“Huh? What did he say?”

“Nothing!” You change the conversation: "I want to meet you guys too. It would be best if you all came to the club. Enjoy yourselves.”

Xina raises an eyebrow, “You'd invite us to your job?”

“Yeah. There's good drinks, food…”

“And half-naked dancers.”

“Well, that too.”

Xina lets out an unsure hum, and Miguel slots himself back into the conversation.

“Okay, we have to go now.”

“Aww no.” Gabriel pouts.

“Send me your number!” Kasey shouts. "We have to put you in the group chat!”

“Okay.” You say goodbye to them all before hanging up and giving him back his phone. “They seem nice.”

“They act worse than this.”

“But they love you. That’s always nice to have.”

Miguel couldn’t hold back his smile when you slip your fingers through his across the table, creating small circles on the back of his hand.

The anxiety he never knew he had lessened after you took the initiative to meet his family. And he wasn’t worried about the face-to-face meeting after the positive reception you received from everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

“She seems nice.” Xina said through the phone call.

Miguel nods as if she can see him, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel after dropping you off, “She is. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

“Me too…” He notices her trailing off, and anxiety starts pooling in his stomach.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Not that serious.”

“Well, I’m suspecting it as the way you trailed off.”

Xina hums and he hears movement on the other line. “I’m just wondering, how is your relationship going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and your dancer. You two are dating now. And you blow a lot of money when you go over there.”

“It’s not a lot of money.” Miguel mumbles, “Well, we’re acting like everything is normal. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

When Miguel steps foot in the club, he tries to act like his usual self. A customer who wasn’t dating one of the dancers. It was for the best since you didn’t want anyone to find out. Especially Jess.

“I get that, but you know your relationship can be seen as…odd.”

“Odd? What do you mean by that?”

Xina remains silent. How convenient when he’s at a stop light, hanging on to every word she said to him so far. His hands getting clammy against the wheel.

“Miguel, you have a fairly decent, well, almost powerful position at a huge company. And you’re dating someone who shakes their ass at a popular nightclub. You also give them a lot of money in exchange for what, a private dance? Please tell me you’re catching on to what I’m saying.”

He almost crashed into a car at the realization. After swerving into the right lane and reassuring Xina, who panicked, Miguel pulled over to gather his thoughts. He didn’t pick up on the slight power imbalance you two had when you started dating. Miguel thought it was harmless.

“I-I’m not taking advantage of her or using her. Does it look that way? Oh god, it does look that way.”

“It can also appear that she’s using you or taking advantage with you. Because of your money. I brought this up with you before. When you told me Dana was buying a bunch of expensive stuff when you got that head geneticist job-”

“I told you Dana isn’t like that. And neither is she.” During your first meeting, you weren’t adamant on taking more of his money. Sure, he knows about you wanting to save up for a house, and part of his money is being contributed to said house. Miguel didn’t think like that.

“Okay, fine. You know her more than me. I still think it’s best to clear up any confusion by having a conversation. So you two are on the same page.”

Xina was right. Having a conversation would help you two in the long run, especially when your relationship starts to get serious.

He tried to call you when he got home, but you didn’t pick up. You were probably still too busy at the club. That was for the best since the conversation was better to have face-to-face.

The next time, Miguel’s stomach twisted when he sat down in the private room.

You greeted him with a wave, closing the door behind you. The click from your heels matched the pounding in his head. He rubbed the sweat from his palms against his pants, holding in the urge to throw up. As you picked up the remote to decide a song, he grabbed your hand.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah. Let me pick a song first-”

“No, no song.”

You squint, “What do you mean ‘no song’? What’s wrong?”

“Am I taking advantage of you?” Miguel blurted out. He didn’t give you a chance to speak as he continued, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize my position would make our relationship odd. And I’m realizing that I’ve still been paying you a bunch of money since we started dating and I know you’re trying to buy a house, but I don’t want anyone to suspect you’re using me to help you buy one, which I know is not your intention-”

You silence him with a kiss. He accepts, his shoulders relaxing when he tastes your mango-scented lip gloss. You look directly into his deep eyes when you pull an inch away.

“Calm down.”

“Okay.”

You toss the remote to the side. “You’re not taking advantage of me and I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“But I give you almost a thousand every week.”

“You do, but I didn’t ask you to do that. That’s all you.”

“Because I want to support you. Now, I realize that throwing money for you to give me dances isn’t the best look. And we’re dating so…”

“I don’t care.” You say, hand on your hip. “Our positions don’t matter. I like you. You like me. What’s the problem?”

“I’m giving you money every time I come here.”

“So stop coming here if you have a problem with it.”

“I…”

He can’t. Seeing you in your element is one of the highlights of his week. What else was he supposed to do if he didn’t see you as much with your job? Miguel loves the dates he goes on with you, but he also enjoys watching you dance.

“I’m sorry.” You run your hand through his hair. Miguel leans into your touch, soothing the impending vomit in his throat. “I don’t want you to stop coming, but I don’t know what to do if you’re struggling like this. You know how Jess is about people not spending money in here.”

Miguel lights up.

“Can I speak to Jess?”

Your face twists with confusion, “Why?”

“I have an idea.”

Jess was in her office, in the back of The Weave, right near the locker rooms for the dancers. When you knocked, the door opened to Kaine, another of Jess’s security. Miguel always thought he was more intimidating due to the scar on his face and the buzz cut. He pays both of you no mind when he brushes aside you two.

“Jess? Your favorite customer wants to speak to you.”

“Which one?” Jess peers up from her computer, lighting up when Miguel comes into view, “Oh, Mr. Science Guy! What you need?” Miguel glances over at you and you give him the ok sign, leaving to return to the floor. “You finally gonna tell me that you’re dating one of my dancers?”

His eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know that?”

“You and Silk be giving cute glances at each other every five minutes. And don’t forget the private rooms have cameras.”

Miguel cleared his throat, not expecting to get hit what that. Now, he wasn’t sure if the idea he came up with was going to work.

“I really like her.”

“And that’s fine. As long as y’all don’t fuck in the club, I don’t care what you two do.” He nods at her words. “I will say this though. If you hurt my girl and you decide to show your sorry ass in the club, I will ban you for life and kick you to the curb.”

He gulped, fixing the collar on his shirt. “I understand.”

“Good.” Jess's tough demeanor returns to relaxed. "Now, what did you want to talk about?”

Miguel pulls out a grand and places it on the table. “Is it okay if I pay you this amount weekly? This is the same amount I give to Silk when I come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Jess inspects the money, letting the bills fly across her thumb. “What’s the deal?”

“I want to keep coming here, but I don’t feel comfortable handing money directly to Silk since we are…an item. I still want to support your business and the dancers so, would that be enough?”

“Did you two fuck yet?”

“Huh? N-No! No, we didn’t…”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you weren’t pussy whipped.” She places the money to the side, “That’s fine, but what do you get out of this?”

Miguel plays with the ends of his shirt, “I still want those forty-five minutes with her.”

“…that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jess stares at him, inspecting his frame. The silence between them lingers as the pulsing beat from the club bangs against the walls. Miguel’s palms start to coat with sweat again, and he casually rubs them against his pants.

“Okay. You got a deal.”

He shifts with his feet. “O-Oh okay. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She shakes his hand as if this was the start of a profitable business deal.

Now, everything was perfect.

You two have stabilized the foundation of your relationship. Miguel just arranged plans for his family, excluding his mother to meet you at The Weave for an official meet and greet. And he was going to ask you if you wanted to go to the Banquet with him.

A brief doubt occurred that maybe it was too soon since the relationship was new. You could always say no. He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable.

He wishes you could see the smile on his face when you text him saying yes. Your messages are filled with excited GIFs and reaction pictures.

“You're very happy today.” Dana interrupts and Miguel quickly puts his phone away.

“I-It's a good day today. Got a decent amount of work done…”

“Because Tyler stopped messing with you. I told him to lay off on you since you do so much.”

Miguel was too busy being happy about his relationship to realize that Tyler hasn’t bothered him lately.

“Really?”

Her nod and smug face said it all. “Even after everything, I'm still looking after you.”

“Thanks…” He moved over, letting her pour enough coffee into her mug. While passing her the usual cream and sugars, their hands brushed together. Miguel's muscles tensed while Dana giggled at the sudden contact.

“You excited about the banquet? Sure, it's about a month away, but…”

“I am. Even though it's work-related, it'd be nice to get away for the weekend.”

Dana nods, taking a sip of her coffee while Miguel pours himself another cup.

“Are you going to be okay?” His brows furrow at her question. “I mean, we usually go together every year since you started working here. I know it's going to be a change.”

Miguel holds back a grin, “Yeah, yeah I'll be okay.”

Tags: @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings

@bajbr @freehentai @chubbybyunnie

@ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour

@imamexican @tatatida @aphinthestars

@bluesidez @saintdiior @prettygirleli

@twinkdrakez @vicravluv @brown-eyed-thang

@peachipeachy @sonicbutbutter @mermaidian02

@celi-xxmoon @roserfz27 @hellokittyloverrxox

@sweeetas @avengersinitiative2012

[callsigns-haze]

Request

Could you do one with Tylerxfemale reader where it’s her birthday and she thinks Tyler forgot but secretly he is planning a special night for her. You can do it with or without tornados causing chaos.

Happy Birthday

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler surprises Y/N with a secret birthday celebration after she thinks he forgot, turning her day into an unforgettable memory filled with love and joy.

Warning: Contains emotional moments and romantic surprises.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as Y/N slowly woke up. She stretched lazily, her mind still groggy from sleep. It took a moment for her to remember what day it was—her birthday. A smile spread across her face as she imagined how the day would go. Tyler had always been good at making her feel special, and she couldn’t wait to see what he had planned.

But as the minutes ticked by, the smile began to fade. Tyler wasn’t in bed beside her. The usual smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wasn’t wafting through the air. The apartment was eerily quiet. Y/N sat up, frowning. Maybe he was just running late?

She slipped out of bed, wrapping herself in a cozy robe, and padded out to the kitchen. It was empty, and the counter was bare. No pancakes, no birthday card, nothing. A small pang of disappointment tugged at her heart. Had Tyler really forgotten her birthday?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, her phone buzzed on the counter. She picked it up, hoping for a text from Tyler, but it was just a reminder for an appointment later in the week. Sighing, she set the phone back down and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. Tyler was probably just busy. He’d remember—he had to.

Y/N decided to make herself some breakfast, trying to keep her spirits up. She couldn’t let a little forgetfulness ruin her day. But as the morning turned into afternoon, there was still no word from Tyler. He hadn’t even sent a text. The disappointment grew stronger, making it harder to enjoy her day.

By mid-afternoon, Y/N was curled up on the couch, watching TV but not really paying attention. She was lost in thought, trying to understand why Tyler, who was usually so thoughtful, would forget something as important as her birthday.

As she was contemplating whether to reach out to him or not, the front door creaked open. Y/N turned her head, seeing Tyler walk in with a casual smile, as if it were any other day.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “How’s your day going?”

Y/N tried to hide her disappointment but couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “It’s fine. Just… another day.”

Tyler looked at her with a slight frown. “You okay? You seem a little down.”

She bit her lip, debating whether to say something. After a moment, she decided to just ask. “Did you… forget what today is?”

Tyler’s expression remained neutral, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Y/N’s heart sank. “It’s my birthday, Tyler.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, God, Y/N… I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up with work that I—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make you feel forgotten.”

Y/N nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay, I just thought—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Tyler pulled her into a tight hug, pressing his lips against her hair. “I’m so sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you.”

She hugged him back, feeling a bit better in his arms, but the sadness still lingered. “It’s fine, really. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. “And we will. How about we go out for dinner? Anywhere you want, my treat.”

Y/N forced a smile and nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Tyler smiled back, but there was something in his eyes, a flicker of something Y/N couldn’t quite place. Before she could dwell on it, he kissed her softly, then stood up. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll make a reservation at your favorite place.”

Y/N agreed, heading to the bedroom to change. As she picked out a dress, she tried to shake off the lingering disappointment. Tyler was trying to make up for it, and that’s what mattered.

A couple of hours later, Y/N and Tyler arrived at the restaurant. It was a cozy, intimate place that they often went to for special occasions. The hostess greeted them warmly and led them to a table near the back, away from the noise of the main dining area.

Tyler was being extra attentive, pulling out her chair for her and making sure she was comfortable. He even ordered her favorite wine, trying to make up for the morning. But despite his efforts, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The day had just started on the wrong foot, and it was hard to get back into the celebratory mood.

As they waited for their food, Tyler kept the conversation light, asking about her day and sharing stories from work. But there was still that flicker of something in his eyes, something that made Y/N feel like he was holding back.

Just as she was about to ask him what was going on, the waiter arrived with their meals. Y/N’s plate was placed in front of her, but instead of the usual entrée she expected, there was a small envelope sitting on the edge of the plate.

She frowned in confusion and looked up at Tyler, who was watching her with a knowing smile. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the envelope.

“Open it,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before carefully opening the envelope. Inside was a small, handwritten note that simply said, Turn around.

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at Tyler, who nodded toward the door behind her. Slowly, she turned in her chair and gasped.

Standing in the doorway was a small group of her closest friends and family, all holding balloons, flowers, and gifts. They were smiling brightly, and behind them, a banner hung with the words Happy Birthday, Y/N!

Tears filled her eyes as she turned back to Tyler, who was now grinning from ear to ear. “You… you planned this?”

He stood up and walked around the table to her, pulling her into his arms. “Of course I did. I would never forget your birthday, babe. I wanted to surprise you.”

Y/N laughed through her tears, hugging him tightly. “You sneaky, sneaky man. I really thought you forgot.”

Tyler pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I wanted to make sure you had a birthday to remember. And I wanted to do it right.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, hugs, and heartfelt wishes. Y/N’s friends and family filled the room with love, making her feel special in a way she hadn’t expected. Tyler was by her side the entire time, his earlier act of forgetfulness completely forgiven.

As the night wound down and the restaurant began to empty, Tyler took Y/N’s hand and led her outside to a quiet corner of the patio. The stars were shining brightly above, and the cool night air was refreshing after the warmth of the celebration.

Tyler turned to her, a serious expression on his face. “There’s one more thing,” he said softly.

Y/N looked up at him in surprise. “Tyler, you’ve already done so much…”

He shook his head, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “This is for you,” he said, holding it out to her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took the box, her hands trembling slightly. She opened it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a small heart. Inside the heart was a tiny, sparkling diamond.

“Tyler,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “It’s beautiful.”

He gently took the necklace from the box and fastened it around her neck. “I wanted to give you something to remind you of how much I love you, every day.”

Y/N touched the pendant, her heart swelling with love for the man standing in front of her. “I love you so much, Tyler. Thank you for making this the best birthday ever.”

He smiled, pulling her into a slow, tender kiss. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he murmured against her lips.

As they stood there under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that this was a day she would never forget. Tyler had given her not just a birthday to remember, but a love that would last a lifetime.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[criminalamnesia]

simon’s been having dreams since you left.

horrendous, sickeningly sweet dreams, all of you. it’s always you. reminding him of something he’s not sure he ever really had— something like a mirage, there one minute and gone the next.

but you’d been gone for a while, really. since you’d woken up in that infirmary bed, hatred and terror in your eyes every time you looked at him.

perhaps it’s been longer than— probably since they had you in that damn chair. maybe even before, when whispers of a traitor slipped into their minds and dug its claws in. all signs pointing to you.

most of the dreams start like this:

he wakes to the sound of birdsong. sweet little chirps that sound just outside the window you insist be left open during the springtime.

he’d conceded, not daring to tell you no. it was always yes with you, which surprised him. yes, nonetheless.

he gives a soft groan as his eyes begin to crack open. you’re curled into him, your head resting atop his inked arm. the limb is completely numb, but he doesn’t dare to move it. he’s content to lay here and watch you, because this is when he feels he truly has you.

(but it’s a dream, he realizes when he wakes. and he thinks he never really had you— a destination he desired but never reached. he doesn’t have you anymore, and he never will again.)

the fragrant smell of your favorite flowers, which fill the flower beds surrounding the little blue cottage, wafts in through the window. vibrant pinks and yellows that came after days of hard labor— simon planting each little seed and tending to it until it blossomed. he refused to let you help. said it was his gift to you.

a token of his love.

(even though you’ve long since gone from the little blue cottage, he still labors over those flowers every growing season. a gift to you, that you’d never see the longevity of. that you’d never known was a labor of love.)

(he hated that the first time you’d laid eyes on the cottage, he hadn’t been with you. that you’d been forced to go there— that they (he) had forced you out.)

you curl deeper into his side, your hair tickling his arm. he watches you sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you dream. he can tell it’s a good one by the way your nose twitches and a grin spreads across your lips.

(too often, he wakes to your screams of terror. the screams you had loosed under his tortuous hand. no longer are the nightmares that plague you ones of the perils of your job. now, they’re memories of what he’s done.)

(he wonders if you still wake up screaming. he wonders if you wish he was there to calm you back to sleep, like he’d done countless times before.)

(he wonders if he is what you see in your nightmares now.)

he shifts his body slightly. you stir, eyes still tightly shut as sunlight beams through the airy sage green curtains. again, he couldn’t say no to you.

especially when you had given him the reason behind them. “I want to spend every minute together. just us. every moment out of service, I want.”

it was always yes with you.

“good morning, si,” you grumble, voice still thick from sleep.

“did I wake you?” he whispers, lips pressing to the hair atop your head.

“birdsong outside did,” you reply, a yawn splitting your mouth wide. his free hand finds your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“told ya we should shut the window, love.”

it’s here when things start to differ.

in the good dreams, you look up at him with a grin. the pair of you spend the next hour in bed, drifting in and out of sleep and whispering mundane thoughts to each other. him holding you tightly, swearing he can feel your warmth next to him even when he inevitably wakes.

the bad dreams are more common.

when you look up at him, he sees one of two faces. the first face looks at him with the same expression you’d had back in price’s office, before you had slammed a fist into his jaw.

it’s heartbroken and it’s tired. it’s hateful and scared and ashamed.

(he still thinks it’s beautiful.)

the second face is battered and beaten and bruised. it’s the face you’d worn when in the chair, tortured by his hand. swollen and discolored. bloody. broken.

but most of all, it’s betrayed.

and that jolts him awake. but he doesn’t mind the bad dreams. doesn’t mind any dreams, now.

because they’re always about you. about his greatest failure, his greatest love. he sleeps so he can see you because it’s all he gets now.

he doesn’t know where you went after the cottage, none of them do. you wanted it that way. he wouldn’t dare seek you out. he owed you that much.

so he sleeps.

and he dreams of you.

here’s a little drabble about simon after reader leaves at the end of traitor. definitely inspired by ‘sailor song’. hope you all enjoy :)

p.s. I hate tumblr bc I had written this and tried to save it and the app crashed. so this is my poor attempt of recreating a work I was proud of :(

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

[livwritesstuff]

i’ve been sick at home for two days so here have a sick-fic (steddie!dads edition, obv)

It took three weeks from the first day of school for one of Steve and Eddie’s daughters to bring home some strain of elementary school illness – the flu, Steve's pretty sure, though who really knows? Whatever it is, It’s been knocking the family out one by one over the last week. Three-year-old Hazel had been the last man standing for a while, but she woke up this morning with a pretty gnarly cough and no appetite whatsoever, which can mean only one thing:

Random elementary school sickness: 5.

Harrington Family: 0.

So today is a sick day – yet another, because Steve hasn’t been to work all week, same with the girls and school.

Growing up, Steve had liked sick days, when he’d stay home from school and watch TV and eat ice cream on the couch while his mom doted on him all day.

(Then Steve’s dad had an affair and ruined everything, but that’s a whole other thing).

He wants to replicate for his daughters one of very few fond memories he has of his own childhood, so, yeah, the girls have been livin’ large the last few days (as large as three sick little kids can, anyway). They’re piled onto the couch under all kinds of blankets, eating meals of popsicles and toast and crackers, and watching all kinds of junky TV while they doze in and out of sleep.

Steve can admit that having sick kids is not his favorite facet of parenting, but even though he's totally wiped and the house is a wreck, he can't help but find the silver lining anyway because the girls are extra cuddly when they're sick, even nine-year-old Moe who might be nearing the end of the phase in life where she'll allow her dads to cuddle with her, so they've been asking for snuggles and stories, and Steve's fever-brain is running a little slower than usual so he's been taking the time to appreciate how much he loves being a dad, even in the not-so-fun moments.

The older two are sacked out on the couch with Dinosaur Train playing quietly in the background when Eddie decides the brave the real world for a much-needed grocery run. Hazel is awake still, and she wanders after Steve as he attempts to work through the mountain of laundry that has been building up over the last week.

"Wanna help me make dinner?" he asks her as he shoves a final t-shirt into the washing machine.

She shrugs her little shoulders.

"Not hungry," she says.

"Not hungry?" Steve repeats, and he silently curses his childrens’ elementary school for not being as strict as they could be in handling the spread of the flu across its students.

Still, Hazel ends up standing on a chair at the kitchen counter and helping him “cook” (dump three cans of Campbell's into one pot and heat it over the stove – and he won't be taking any criticism on it either, Tracy Baker, who's claiming to still be making homemade meals even though her family's in the exact same boat).

Eddie returns from the store just as Steve is pulling the pot of chicken noodle soup off the burner.

"Bold choice to have the most freshly sick kid help with dinner," Eddie comments, his eyes on Hazel as he sets grocery bags onto the counter.

Steve looks over just in time to see Hazel’s feeble attempt at blowing on the hot, steaming soup turn into a pretty spectacular toddler-cough right into the pot.

“Christ, no wonder we can’t shake this thing,” Eddie continues, looking vaguely impressed.

“Eh, I’ll stick it on the stove for another fifteen. It’ll probably boil off.”

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

[howlingday]

Dragon GF Super Post

Bully / Dress / Strength / Jaune & Yang /

Because of our parents arrangment, we've always been close. But the truth of the matter is... I've always had feelings for you... As we grew older, there was a sudden height difference. Even though it's rare, I understand that some people start growing gold hair instead of normal blonde. The next thing I know, you and I look so different from what we used to look like.

Yang: Why are you staring at me? It's real creepy.

Jaune: C-Creepy?!

Beacon Academy, one of the few schools in Remnant that let you attend regardless of your family background.

Guy: Oh? Your dad's done how much blackmail? I bet I could take him.

Gal: Oh, your mom burned that many stores down? Well, I'm sure my mom would love to meet yours~.

Dude: And even if she doesn't, who the hell cares? We don't need anyone, baby-girl~.

Everyone seems to be shamelessly flirt about it, too...

Jaune: (Gulps, Thinking) Alright! Time to shoot my shot!.

Jaune: Uh, h-hey, Yang? Do you, I dunno, wanna try holding hands today? Maybe?

Yang: HUH?

Jaune: J-Just for a little while! I mean, we're engaged, and everybody already knows about it, so wouldn't it be weird to be the only couple NOT holding hands?

Yang: Mm... F-Fine... But only only for a little while...

Jaune: Really?! We can hold hands~?!

Yang: J-Just until we get to class! Try anything funny and I'll pound you!

Jaune: That's okay with me. (Holds out hand) Here.

Yang: (Red-faced, Reaches for his hand)

Cardin: There you are, Yang! I've been waiting for you!

Jaune/Yang: !!

Cardin: In case you forgot, I'm Cardin Winchester! They say you're the strongest student at Beacon. Fight me!

Cardin: Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!

Cardin: After I beat you, why not go out with me instead~?

Yang: ...ruined it...

Cardin: Hm?

Yang: I SAID YOU RUINED THE MOMENT, YOU BASTARD!

Cardin: (Half his face indented) Huh-

Yang: (Launches him skyward)

Jaune: ...

Yang: Jaune, come here...

Jaune: Huh?

Yang: You... You wanted to hold my hand... right?

Jaune/Yang: (Holding hands)

Yang: ...HEY! What the hell are you people staring at?! Buzz off!

--------------------------------------------------

Yang: (Kid) Hi, Jaune~!

Jaune: (Kid) Oh, hi, Yang.

Yang: (Flips hair, Giggles)

Jaune: ...What?

Yang: Wha- Don't ya notice anythin' different?

Jaune: Huh? U-Uh... You changed your hair?

Yang: Don't ya know, Jaune? When a girl changes her hair, you have to tell her how cute she looks!

Jaune: O-Oh, really? Well, uh... You... look really cute with a ponytail~.

Yang: (Gushing) Thank you, Jaune~!

10 Years Later...

Jaune: Good morning, Yang!

Yang: Huh? Oh, mornin', Jaune.

Jaune: (Blushing, Awestruck)

Yang: ...WHAT? YOU GOT SOMETHIN' TO SAY, THEN SAY IT!

Jaune: Huh?! Um... It's just... Your hair.... You look really beautiful with your hair in a ponytail.

Yang: (Blushing) Wha- U-Uh... (Turns away, Stomps off) I-I DIDN'T DO IT FOR YOU! IT'S JUST REALLY HOT RIGHT NOW! TH-THAT'S WHY I PUT IT UP!

Jaune: Huh?! Y-Yang!

--------------------------------------------------

Yang: Huh? J-Jaune?! Are you okay?! What-

Kid: Professor! She did it! She's the one who hurt Jaune! I saw her!

Yang: What?! N-No! I-

Student: I saw her, too! She hurt Jaune!

Child: Yeah, yeah! She beat him up! She's a monster!

Yang: N-No! It- It was an accident! I...

Kid: She did it!

Student: Hurt Jaune!

Child: Monster!

Yang: (Sits up in bed) NO! (Panting) Ah... Another nightmare... I... I need to get ready...

Meanwhile, at Jaune's...

Jaune: (Working the punching bag)

Cardin: (Memory) Huh? Oh, the rumors are true, huh? You're really going out with a string bean like him? HA HA HA! What a joke!.

Jaune: (Punching harder)

Yang: (Memory, Steps in front of Jaune)

Jaune: (Grits teeth, Hits hard as he can)

Jaune: (Panting, Thinking) What... What the hell am I doing?

Meanwhile, back at Yang's...

Yang: (Whistles as she cooks breakfast)

Ruby: (Sneaks in) GOT IT-

Yang: (Casually backhands Ruby's face) Nope.

Ruby: (Rubs her nose, Pouts) Owie~! How could you hurt your adorable baby sister like this~?!

Yang: You can have breakfast AFTER I'm done cooking it. Go get ready for school.

Ruby: Oh, fine! (Hugs) Love you, Yang~!

Yang: ...

Ruby: Ooh~! Ponytail again today? Something good happen~?

Yang: (Blushes) I-It's the weather, okay? Putting my hair up like this is less annoyin', y'know?

Ruby: AND I see that you made three lunches for today. One for me, one for you, and one for somebody else. Is that also because of the weather~?

Yang: ACK! I-It's also for me! I'm just feeling extra hungry today! Besides, it's none of your business, Ruby!

Ruby: Hm~? (Snuggles Yang) I'm sure he'll love it, Yang.

Yang: (Smiles)

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

???: Huh... Morning already? Good morning...

Bleiss: (Stares at Jaune picture) My darling~.

--------------------------------------------------

Ruby: It's been a while since we walked to school like this~!

Yang: Ruby... Why are you here?

Ruby: What? I can't walk together with my big sister anymore? Don't be mean!

Jaune: Hey, Ruby! It's been a while.

Ruby: Oh, hey, Jaune~! Y'know, I've been thinking about having a cute guy like you in my harem. It's too bad you and Yang are already engaged. Anyways, I've got a question for you!

Jaune: Huh?! What?!

Ruby: You're walking two beautiful girls to class. Doesn't that make your heart race~?

Jaune: U-Um...

Yang: (Danger emanating from her) WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Ruby: Y- Yang, it was just a joke... Calm down!

Jaune: Well... To be honest... I don't really care who I'm walking with, so long as I'm walking with Yang, I'm happy.

Ruby: ...

Yang: (Blushing)

Ruby: JAUNE, THAT WAS SO GOD DAMN CRINGE, I THINK I'M GONNA THROW UP.

Jaune: Huh?!

???: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?!

Ruby: Hm? Some kind of commotion over there?

Yang: More bullshit? Just great...

Cardin: I'M CARDIN WINCHESTER, DAMMIT! AND I'M HERE TO KICK YANG'S ASS FOR REVENGE!

Cardin: I don't pick on weak girls anymore, but I'll make an exception if you don't get out of my way, you bitch!

Bleiss: Weak? Ohoho... Now you've done it...

--------------------------------------------------

Bleiss: I'm going to give you just one warning. Stop causing trouble, or else... You got that... Beringel brain?

Cardin: (Swings) YOU BITCH-

Bleiss: (Flicks her wrist)

Cardin: (Legs start freezing) Wh- WHAT THE-?! H-HEY! WHOA! SLOW DOWN! I WAS JUST KID-

Cardin: (Block of ice)

Student: Whoa~! She took down that guy without taking a single step~!

Teen: What else would you expect from our class rep~?!

Bleiss Gele-Schnee - Daughter of Jacques Schnee and his mistress. Beacon first year class representative.

Bleiss: Stupid, annoying... Pyrrha, let Professor Goodwitch know about Cardin causing trouble again. Everyone else, look around the school for his cronies! Idiots like him never work alone...

Bleiss: Well?! What are you waiting for?! Do it now! Classes are gonna start soon!

Class: Y-Yes, ma'am!

Ruby: Oh, Cardin came back already? Well, I guess it was just a couple lines, huh?

Jaune: Beacon first year class representative, Bleiss. She's the daughter of the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company. Honestly, the only trouble I have with her is...

Jaune: ...SHE'S OBSESSED WITH ME.

Bleiss: (Gasps, Hugs Jaune) DARLING~!

Yang: HUH?

--------------------------------------------------

10 Years Ago...

Bleiss: (Covering her eyes) 1... 2... 3...

Jaune: Yang, let's split up!

Yang: Okay! I'll find you later~!

Jaune: No way she'll find me here-

Bleiss: Found you~!

Jaune: ACK! H-How did you find me?!

Bleiss: Of course I found you, Jaune~! I'm always looking out for you, you know...

Jaune: Huh...? Always...? What do you mean by that?

Bleiss: It's true. You're the only one I have eyes for~.

Bleiss: ALWAYS~.

10 Years Later...

Bleiss: Darling... You were almost late to class. That's no good~.

Yang: HEY. GET OFF HIM, YOU BLACK ICE BITCH.

Bleiss: Hm? Oh, why, if it isn't the problem child? Who do you think was cleaning up after you mess from the other day, hm~?

Yang: I didn't ask for you to do that. Now get your hands off him.

Bleiss: Darling, I've warned you before, but I'll say it as many times as I have to so you understand. Someone as kind, and sweet, and gentle as you shouldn't have anything to do with bandit trash like her.

Bleiss: DID YOU FORGET WHAT SHE DID TO YOU?

Jaune: Bleiss, that's enough.

Bleiss: Why? It's the truth, isn't it?

Bleiss: SHE HURT YOU. SHE DID IT BEFORE AND SHE'LL DO IT AGAIN.

Yang: (Shaking)

Bleiss: BECAUSE SHE'S JUST LIKE HER MOTHER...

Jaune: I TOLD YOU TO STOP!

Yang: (Hurries away)

Jaune: Yang! Wait!

Bleiss: J-Jaune! Darling! Wait! I was just... worried...

Later...

Pyrrha: Bleiss, we've finished everything you- HUH?!

Bleiss: (Seething, Shaking)

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake One Shot: Attitude Adjustment

Some things call for punishment.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,241

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, horny!reader, bratty!reader, the pet name "sweetheart," slight grinding, slight public inappropriate touching, angry!Jake, rough!Jake, oral m!receiving, face-fucking, hair-pulling, gagging, oral f!receiving, fingering, a bit of edging, orgasm denial, spanking, taunting/mocking, unprotected PIV sex, begging, light degradation, choking, creampie, aftercare, a hint of fluff, and of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Jake Kiskza One Shot Masterpost

A/N: I heavily suggest listening to Deftones while reading. Enjoy ;)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Once satisfied with your work, you pucker your lips in the large bathroom mirror after painting them with clear gloss. You examine your appearance; a mini skirt rests just below the curves of your ass, paired with your favorite top, with black eyeliner smudged across your waterline. Josh is expecting you and Jake to come over relatively soon for a “welcome back” get-together, hosted by himself, of course. And with the tour's first leg being over, the band is home for a few weeks– something you and Jake had already taken advantage of earlier this morning. 

“Did you miss me?” Jake’s husky morning voice rang in your ears as he thrust into you from his spooning position, your leg hooked over his own with your back flush against his chest. Heavy breaths caused his chest to heave into your upper back while your lower back arched, your head pressing against his shoulder while his lips grazed the curve of your ear. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Jake, I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse, sleep still intertwined heavily in your breathless moans. You missed mornings like this and hated being away from him for so long– you both figured you’d get the most out of the short break. 

Flashes of the memories cause your vision to blur and thighs to rub subconsciously, your eyes zoning out and keeping you from noticing Jake’s sudden presence. Walking up behind you, his warmth engulfs your backside. The front of his body molds against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder as he smiles at you through the mirror. 

“Almost ready?” His sweet voice pulls you to lock eyes with him through the reflection, your gaze focusing solely on him. 

“Just about.” Smiling back, you push your hips back against him, yearning for his touch again. You can’t help but notice the strained noise that catches in the back of his throat when you do, making you fight the urge to plaster on a devilish grin. 

“You look beautiful,” He whispers while bringing up a hand to sweep away the hair from your neck, placing soft kisses along the exposed skin. His hips absently grind into you as his nose grazes your skin, his lips dragging and leaving open-mouth kisses along the sensitive flesh. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes flutter close, your lips partially opening to let soft breaths pass. 

His hands rest on your hips, holding you in place while his erection grows against your ass. You aren’t entirely sure if you have enough time, but God, you don’t care. Josh will understand if you show up late, right?

“Jake–” When you whisper his name, he pulls away from your neck, his eyes trained on the side of your face.

“Tell me what you want.” His warm breath rushes along your neck, sending small huffs with every accentuated syllable. 

“You.” He nearly groans at the single word muttered from your lips as he pushes harder into you, holding you against the bathroom counter. Wandering hands leave your hips, traveling along the curve of your waist and plastering themselves across your stomach and ribs, eventually settling on the hills of your breasts. He squeezes them gently, resuming his peppered kisses along your neck while his words vibrate against you.

“Didn’t get enough this morning, did you?” His voice borders on taunting.

“Never.” 

“Neither did I.” His confession is followed by one of his hands carefully wrapping around the front of your neck, and the other moving from your breast to the bottom of your skirt. Slowly hiking the stretchy material up your thighs, his fingers graze the heated bare skin and your eyes shoot open to look at him; his hand wrapped around your throat holds you still while the pads of his fingers caress the moistened fabric of your underwear. He hums in approval when feeling your arousal, just seconds away from giving you what you want–

Buzz buzz

His phone in the back pocket of his worn jeans vibrates, prompting him to pull his hands away from you to grab it. You nearly let out a whine of protest while the remaining feeling of his warmth disappears from your neck and your skirt falls back into place. Turning to face him, he frowns at his phone, clearly just as upset as you are. 

“Who is it?” You ask eagerly, attempting to ignore the dull heartbeat between your legs.

“It’s Josh,” He sighs, “He wants to know when we’ll be there– I guess everyone else is already there.” Sliding his phone in his back pocket, he gives you a sympathetic smile and leans toward you, kissing your scrunched forehead softly. His hands instinctively rest on your waist, and he chuckles when he sees the slight pout on your features, “I’m sorry, baby, but we have to go.” 

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” Trying to reason with him, your pointer fingers hook themselves into his belt loops and pull his hips flush against yours. His bulge is straining in the confines of his jeans, and you know it pains him to stop, “Please?” 

“No time, sweetheart. Don’t wanna be late.” While he turns you down with a subtle shake of his head, disappointment settles in your gut. 

“Fine.” Throwing your head back with an exaggerated groan, you release his belt loops and step around him to finish getting ready. His body turns to follow your movements, silently watching as you bend over to slip your shoes on. Clearing his throat, his eyes settle on the peek of your underwear as your skirt moves up your thighs. 

“Will you behave?” You smirk at the slight uncertainty in his voice while he attempts to keep his restraint. Standing up straight and slowly walking toward him, you drag your hands up his stomach to his broad chest, the muscles beneath your fingertips flexing with the tantalizing movement. You lean in, your lips ghosting over his while he parts them, waiting.

“You know I will.” Your hushed words pour along his parted lips, and he’s flustered when you pull away. 

“Good.” He swallows thickly, his eyes blinking rapidly to keep his composure, “I’ll give you what you want after dinner, okay?” 

“I’m counting on it.”

If only you had known how long dinner was actually going to last. Josh is already on his tenth story about the tour and shows no signs of stopping. Usually, you’d be all ears because you love listening to him talk, but you’re growing antsy; your thighs clench beneath the dining room table, the heat of Jake’s palm on your bare knee only adds to your growing arousal, and your mind wanders to what awaits when you get home. When you shift in your seat, Jake’s hand twitches on your knee, and he glances over at you. 

“You okay?” He asks quietly, low enough for only you to hear. 

“M’fine.” You flash a close-mouth smile to him, bringing your attention back to Josh and everyone else at the table. Sam and Danny listen intently, laughing along with Josh and adding any missed details to the stories he shares. Dinner has since withered away from the plates, drinks gone dry in cups, and you’re hoping that means it’s coming to an end soon. 

“So, how about some dessert?” Josh claps his hands together, finishing his previous story and standing from his chair at the end of the table. Everyone, including Jake, simultaneously agrees with murmured phrases of “absolutely,” “sounds lovely,” and “of course.” When you don’t respond, Josh pauses, squinting at you, “And you?” 

“Oh! Um– yeah, that sounds good.” Plastering on an eager smile, Jake peers over at you when Josh leaves the dining room, bringing Danny and Sam with him for assistance. 

“What’s wrong?” His tone is genuine, and you feel silly for your pure desperation, “You seem off.” His thumb absently rubs circles on your knee, and the feather-light touch travels up your inner thigh, straight to your aching core. This is torture.

“Just eager to get home, that’s all.”

“Oh,” A smug smirk pulls the corners of his lips, flashing his teeth into a full-on shit-eating grin, “Patience, sweetheart, we’re almost done here.” 

“I have none.” You whine, resting your hand on his, squeezing tightly. Sliding his hand from your knee, you let his palm graze the plush flesh of your thigh until his fingers rest just centimeters from your clothed cunt. A shaky inhale pierces his lungs when he feels the heat radiating from between your legs, his hand gripping your thigh to keep still. 

“Be good.” He rushes out when his brothers return holding bowls of ice cream, setting them down on the placemats before you. His hand remains on your thigh, his fingers slightly twitching, kneading deeper into your skin. 

The storytelling resumes while you pick away at your ice cream, eventually coming to regret placing Jake’s hand so close to where you desire him most. Jake seems to be heavily amused by the effect his simple touch has on you, his lips twitching into a smirk each time you squirm with a subtle squeeze of his hand. Two can play that game, you decide.

Mirroring the position of his hand, yours rests just below the bulge in his pants, your pinky grazing the rough fabric of his jeans. His spoon nearly drops from his hand at the sudden intrusion, and his eyes shift toward you, an innocent smile spreading on your lips. You know this is risky and highly inappropriate, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Months without Jake proved to be extremely difficult; creating an insatiable problem not even your hand could fix. 

Removing his hand from your thigh, he grips the table’s edge, his fingertips turning white from the force. You turn to listen keenly to Sam’s talking, your hand now traveling up and palming Jake’s hardening bulge. His hips softly buck into your hand, making a quiet sound reminiscent of a choked groan mix into the clearing of his throat. 

“You okay, Jake?” Josh’s voice breaks through Sam’s story, and everyone turns to look at Jake, including you. His face is flushed and his eyes wide while heat creeps up his neck, a result of you stroking his clothed erection underneath the security of the table. 

“Yep.” He grunts out, discreetly reaching down and gripping your wrist, halting your movements, “I think it’s time we head home, though.” 

“I suppose,” Josh sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, but you know he’s only joking, “Let me walk you both out.” Jake shoots up from his chair while your hand falls from his lap, and you follow his movements, carefully standing from your seat and sharing goodbyes with Sam and Danny. 

The twins exchange pleasantries while Josh walks the two of you to the door; Jake thanks him for the meal and having you over while Josh thanks the both of you for coming. It’s a relatively routine goodbye, one you’ve seen them do plenty of times, and you’re eager to get out the door. 

As soon as the front door is shut behind you, Jake grabs your wrist and swiftly walks toward the car, dragging you behind him. 

“Jake, wait–”

“No talking.” His tone is austere and cutting, making you close your mouth immediately, your feet stumbling beneath you while you struggle to keep up. His demeanor has changed completely; darkness looms over his stature as he treks down the long driveway, his calloused fingertips digging into you, but never firm enough to cause you any discomfort. 

When he opens the passenger door, you quickly get in and flinch when he slams the door shut. Your eyes follow him as he moves briskly to round the front of the car, swinging the driver’s side door open and plopping into the seat, wasting no time to start the engine. 

“Jake, I’m sorry–”

“What did I say?” His harsh voice cuts you off. 

The car ride is eerily silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, white-knuckling the steering wheel. You avoid looking at him, only focusing on the blurred view that speeds past the passenger window. A pitch-black canvas paints the sky with speckles of twinkling stars and rough brush strokes of vanishing clouds— the only definitive outline is of the towering trees littered along the dimly lit road. You know what’s coming once you get home, and you can’t help but feel a little… excited. 

It’s not long before the car pulls into the driveway and he puts it in park, moving with haste. You wait impatiently while he exits the vehicle, walks around the hood, and opens the passenger door for you. Grabbing his extended hand and stepping out, you follow closely as his legs stride to the front door, his long fingers firmly intertwined with yours. 

Once the door is open, he pulls you inside, shutting it behind you and releasing your hand. Parting your lips to speak, he interrupts you again.

“Go to the bedroom.” His gruff voice cuts through the suddenly thick air of your shared home, and you nod, turning in the direction of the stairs and treading up the wooden steps. Your heavy footsteps are followed by deep thuds, Jake’s own mimicking them just seconds behind. Looking over your shoulder, he keeps a distance of a few feet, his lust-crazed eyes trained on you. Anticipation wraps around your torso, making you pick up the pace to get to the bedroom quicker, and when you cross the threshold, you immediately turn around, waiting for an instruction of any sort.

The stern look on his face is very telling, and you know exactly what happens next. His thick eyebrows are set in an irritated scowl, and his deep maroon lips are naturally downturned into a frown. His pointed glare pierces through you, his eyes void of any empathy, pure vexation taking its place. He steps closer once he shuts the bedroom door, audibly locking it while holding your gaze. Standing toe-to-toe with him, you cross your arms over your chest, your chin held high, challenging him. 

“What did I say about behaving?” His tone is concerningly calm, and a single chill prompts the thin hairs on your arms and the back of your neck to perk up, leaving minuscule bumps in their wake. He slowly blinks while addressing you, his body nearly vibrating with pent-up frustration, clearly struggling to keep his composure. Jake usually can keep his cool, but the only times he really struggled was when you pushed his buttons– on purpose, of course– which is exactly what you’re doing now. 

“I don’t know,” You shrug innocently, your voice reflecting naivety, “What did you say? Maybe I wasn’t listening.” You’re certainly playing a perilous game, considering you don’t always reach the desired outcome. But, you don’t know till you try it. 

“I could’ve sworn you were.” Tilting his head, his hand comes up to grip your chin between his pointer finger and thumb as he examines your features, “What did you say… ‘You know I will.’” He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly, “Your words, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t recall.” You answer sarcastically, your eyes boring into his, watching metaphoric flames in his eyes rage at your persistent attitude.

“Get on the bed.” There’s a rigorousness to his words, his teeth baring as he enunciates them and drops his hand from your chin. You back away from him, the bed only mere feet from you, but you hesitate when the edge of the mattress hits the back of your knees. He leisurely walks toward you, his shoulders heaving slowly with the heaviness of his deep breaths. His eyes are clouded with sin; lust expanding the darkness of his pupils, causing them to melt into his chocolate brown irises. “I said,” His voice is nearly a growl as his hands rest on your shoulders, carefully shoving you down to sit, “Get on the fucking bed.” 

A small oof leaves your lips when you sink into the plush mattress, the bedframe quietly creaking from the force. Looking up at him through your lashes, his hooded eyes peer down at you as his hands grip the sides of your face, tilting your head back. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks with faux solace, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.” You admit, the simple word rolling off your tongue with a shaky breath. 

“If you say so.”

His hands leave your face to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, undoing the few that are actually buttoned, and pulling the cotton garment off his shoulders and arms. His upper body lays bare to you, his chest rising and falling with every breath, wavy hair framing his exposed neck, and his stomach clenching from the sudden coolness of the bedroom. Your mouth waters at the ungodly sight, watching as he toys with the button and zipper of his jeans, eventually pulling the waistband of them and his boxers down just enough. 

You swallow thickly when coming face to face with his erection; the angry red tip leaks precum dripping down the shaft and traveling along the most prominent vein. When glancing up at him, a cocky smirk is displayed on his lips, expectant and waiting. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” The once wholesome pet name now spills venom. Leaning forward, you keep your eyes on him as your tongue hangs from your lips, collecting the precum from his sensitive tip. His hips jerk slightly from the mixed sensation of your warmth and the hum that vibrates from the depths of your throat when you taste him. Sliding your hands up his thighs, you attempt to grip his shaft to assist, but he swats your hand away, “Ah– No touching.”

“How will I–” 

Placing one of his hands behind your head, he nudges you forward, making your mouth completely engulf his tip between your lips. He groans when your cheeks hollow around him, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact, “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? Always talking back.” 

The hand on the back of your head brushes through your hair, sweeping away the strands that cover your face, and gathering them into a make-shift ponytail. Twisting the bundle of hair around his closed fist, he moves you further onto his cock, watching intently while your brows scrunch at the feeling of his tip brushing against your throat. His jaw falls slack and eyebrows scrunch as he pulls you back, then pushes you back onto his erection, repeating the motion until low grunts dangle on his tongue. 

Your mouth is a mixture of an increasing amount of spit and salty precum, the liquids leaking from the corners of your mouth as he controls your movements. When he decides the speed isn’t enough, he halts, moving his free hand to grip your chin and feel his cock slide into your throat. Without moving your head, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, gaining speed quite rapidly and repeatedly poking the back of your tongue. 

“You like when I fuck your throat?” You make a noise of agreement, nodding slightly with his cock sliding in your hollowed cheeks, “Shuts you right up, huh?” 

The persistent motion causes tears to gather along your darkened waterline with spit now dripping down the sides of your chin and onto Jake’s hand. He doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he moves quicker and more relentlessly while exasperated huffs exhale from him. The looming threat of gagging clenches your torso, and you breathe deeply and hum aimlessly to keep it from happening. Though, Jake notices, and thrusts harder. 

“C’mon, baby.” He coos, tightening his grip on your hair, and choking out a moan when the muffled sound of you gagging around his cock fills the room. The tears that collected rush down your cheeks, and as a result, leave streaks of black on the blotchy skin. He abruptly pulls out of your mouth when his stomach spasms, signaling that his release isn’t far behind. Gasping for the air you forgot you needed, you heel over and watch as strings of spit connect you to his glistening cock, and dribble down your chin. You figure you must look in disarray; hair tangled from his grip, cheeks bright red, lips shining with spit and precum, and black eyeliner traveling over the rounds of your cheekbones. Still, he looks at you with a sense of adoration, inspecting the labor present on your face while releasing the hold on your hair and gently wiping away the fallen tears. “Lay back.”

Following his order, you scooch back onto the bed, moving backward until you feel the pillows beneath your upper back. You lower yourself onto the soft material and your head sinks into the cushioned fabric. 

“Undress yourself.” 

Moving fervently, you sit up to grip the bottom hem of your shirt, lifting the material over your head and throwing it elsewhere. You hook your thumbs into the elastic waistband of both your mini skirt and underwear, stretching the fabric over the curves of your hips and lifting them to shimmy out of the clothes. Discarding those, you move to unhook your bra, peeling the straps off your shoulders and tossing it over the bed. You lay bare in front of Jake, who stands in only his jeans at the end of the bed with a primal expression on his face. You feel small under his investigative glare, diffidence blooming in your chest as his eyes rake over your breasts and settle on your spread folds. 

Tucking himself into his boxers, he climbs onto the bed, moving slowly up the foot of it until he’s between your spread legs, eye-level with your weeping cunt. Blowing gently on the sensitive skin, your legs twitch around his shoulders, unable to close. Your hips writhe beneath him as you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth, growing visibly impatient as you crane your head to watch him. 

“So needy.” He whispers with a dark chuckle, lowering himself and kissing just above your slit. With your hips squirming, he presses a few more kisses in places other than where you yearn for him. And once you’re a whining mess, his tongue darts from his lips, the coral-pink flesh flattening and swiping along your wet folds. A surprised moan flows from your parted lips as your head falls back, your back arching when he continues the same motion. His pointed tongue parts the velvety folds, exploring the valleys and divots, eventually circling the bundle of nerves that begs his attention. 

“Oh, god, Jake–” His name flows from your lips like a sacred mantra, your words pointed to the ceiling while your hand tangles itself in the silky strands of his hair. A muffled groan escapes him, disappearing into your core and pulling a strangled cry from you. His lips close around your aching clit, sucking and performing a pulsing pattern. “Holy shit, just like that!”

A sharp gasp pierces your lungs when you feel his fingers poke at your entrance, two of them sliding into you effortlessly and only enhancing your pleasure. You look down at him, his eyes already on yours, but occasionally glancing at your bare chest, which heaves with every breathless pant. Slowly pumping his fingers, they curl slightly to brush against the spongy flesh, creating a building pressure deep in your gut. Strings of silent curses and fretful moans follow the grinding of your hips, seeking more friction against Jake’s plump lips. 

His free hand comes up to press on your lower belly, pinning you in place while continuing his relentless assault on your swollen clit with his fingers moving in a sweeping motion to pull an orgasm from you. The heat that pools in your abdomen spreads like wildfire, shooting waves of arousal to your core and spreading across Jake’s fingers and lips.

“Keep going,” You cry out as your eyes squeeze shut to prepare for the intense orgasm that builds in your gut, “I’m so close.” 

Just as the beginning pulses of your growing orgasm clench around his fingers, he pulls away, leaving you void of any touch. The indistinct yell of protest that spills from your partially open lips fills the bedroom, and your eyes shoot open to stare at him; a satisfied smirk pulls at his scarlet lips, his hair still bundled into your clenched fist, and your near-release glistens from his lips to his chin, quietly taunting you for what could’ve been. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

“You have to earn it, sweetheart.” He explains like you should’ve already known, leaning away from you and settling himself down on the heels of his feet, kneeling before you. “Lay on your stomach for me.” 

Repositioning yourself with a single huff, you lay snugly against the mattress while he’s out of view. Peering over your shoulder, you observe as he moves up your legs, straddling them and putting just enough weight on them to keep you still. His hands wander over your curves, his calloused fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of your ass. You wait patiently, unsure of his next move.

Smack

You yelp at the sudden stinging sensation on your right cheek, followed by the tender caress of his hand. 

“You have me for three weeks, and yet you still acted like a desperate brat.”

Smack

Jumping at the second spank, he immediately soothes the reddening skin of your left cheek. His voice is laced with forged sincerity as disappointment and built-up dissatisfaction pry through clenched teeth. 

“You said you’d behave, and did you?” He hesitates with his hand displayed in the air, waiting for a response. Shaking your head, he mimics the motion, “Right. That’s what I thought.” 

Smack

The initial pain subsides and is quickly replaced by a sultry feeling in your core, causing your yelps to soften into moans. 

“Did you want to be punished?” Amusement melts from his tongue, and you can almost hear the smug smirk he’s sporting from the tone of his voice, but you nod anyway, a little too earnestly, “Yeah?”

Smack

“Say ‘thank you,’ then.” A shameless moan escapes with a rushed breath, your hips swaying side to side while his hand soothes the heated skin, “Say it.”

“Thank you.” You whine as the unbearable feeling of fervor causes your core to throb. 

Smack

“Again.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You shakily breathe out the repeated phrase, tears stinging your waterline once again from the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Good girl.” He praises you, his hands rubbing gentle circles along the slightly elevated skin that outlines his handprint on each cheek. 

You feel him shift behind you, his weight lifting from your legs, and his hands prying them open to spread, allowing him to kneel between them. His grip rests on your hips, hoisting you up into a bent position with your cheek pressed firmly against the pillow and your ass in the air. He wastes no time freeing his erection from his boxers, pulling the fabric down to his knees and wrapping his digits around the shaft. He pumps his fist absently while gliding the tip between your soaking folds, a small gasp being heard from both of you at the feeling. 

Your breathing halts when he nudges your entrance, his free hand tightening around your hip while he pushes his forward, inching into you at an antagonizing rate. Your walls stretch around the size of his cock and a trembling breath blows from your puckered lips when he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass. A dragged-out groan carries itself from Jake’s throat when he exhales, the soft rush of his breath cascading along your arched back. Neither of you move, simply relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing around him, accommodating his impressive size. 

A moment passes before he finally pulls back, inching out of you before sliding back in, pressing firmly with each steady thrust. It doesn’t take long before carefully calculated thrusts morph into consistency, pulling a continuous string of moans from you and choked grunts from him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice cuts through the incessant smacking of his hips against your ass, “You wanted to be fucked?” When you nod against the pillow, he grunts a noise of disapproval and swats your ass, “Use your words or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck– yes, I did!” 

“Yes, who? Say my fucking name.”

“Yes, Jake!” Crying out, your hands grip the sheets underneath you, grasping for leverage while he picks up the pace, mercilessly pounding into you and holding your hip as support. His free hand grazes along the expanse of your back, tracing your spine and running through the roots of your hair. Flexing his fingers, he gathers your hair between them, pushing you further into the pillows with your head turned, your furrowed eyes glancing back at him. His stomach clenches with every thrust, his chest flushed, the smooth skin mirroring his concentrated face. The sheer force rebuilds that familiar sensation in your core, and your knuckles turn white from the strength of your hold on the sheets, “Faster, please, I’m so close!”

“Nah, you asked for this, sweetheart,” His pace remains the same, not quite hitting the mark you desperately need to make to capture your release, “Take your punishment like the needy little brat you are.”

“Come on, Jake.” You groan, feeling discouraged when you feel his hand leave your hip, only down-turning his thrusts. 

Smack 

“Fuck!” Taken by surprise, your hips squirm against him while the stinging pain simmers into dullness with the gentle stroke of his hand. “What was that for?” 

“Talking back. Want me to do it again?” 

“No!” You protest, “Please, just let me come. I’ll behave!”

“Hmmm.” He considers your request, but ultimately declines, shaking his head with torment on his tongue, “Not until I say so. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” With that, he swiftly pulls out, the sudden absence pulling a choked cry from you. A second denial dissipates the boiling heat in your lower abdomen, and your legs tremble when he flips you over to lay on your back. He’s quick to move between your spread legs, his erection probing at your entrance in an instant, and immediately sinking into your aching cunt. An appreciative whimper catches in your throat when you feel full again, your hands coming up to grasp his bare waist as his arms cage you in.

There’s no easing into the new position as he instantly matches his previous pace, the upward twitching of his cock now brushing against the sensitive flesh of your fluttering walls. Your fingertips sink into the pliable flesh while your legs wrap around his waist, creating a new and deeper angle for him. 

“Oh, my God!” For the third time, your climax climbs to its very peak, yet it still doesn’t bubble over.

“You wanted this, right? Wanted me to fuck you senseless until you’re a fucking mess?” His voice is strained, reflecting his heightened exhaustion as his eyes bore into yours. You can’t respond while enervated sighs pry past your parted lips, your eyes threatening to close in concentration. “Answer me.” One of the hands supporting his weight grips your jaw, keeping your attention on him, and only him.

“Yes, I wanted this,” Breathing out, your brows scrunch, and your jaw falls slack when you feel the slow pulsing of your cunt around his erection. 

“Say it louder.” He’s grunting uncontrollably now, the sound melodic as your hands progress up his back, your nails digging small divots into the flesh. 

“I wanted this!” The pitch of your voice is high and wavering with the vigorousness of his hips pounding against yours, creating a dull ache in them. 

“Poor thing– can barely fucking talk.” His words are slurred as he visibly struggles to maintain his velocity, and if you aren’t mistaken, you’d think he was talking about himself, “What happened to all that attitude, hm?” Still there.

“S’gone.” 

“You think you earned it?” He asks, referencing the release you can both feel pulsing within your core. Rushes of arousal coat his cock, allowing him to move quicker, more thoroughly, and you nod frantically at his question, “Yeah? Ask for it. Use your words.”

“Please, Jake, just let me come.”

“Ah- ask for it, sweetheart.” He corrects you, nearly causing you to whine pathetically out of protest and pure desperation. You’re so close to what you’ve been begging for since before leaving for Josh’s get-together, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation when you give him what he’s demanding.

“Can–” Your voice comes out in a meek tone when speaking, diffidence halting your words, “Can I come?” But, you don’t care, because you only have one goal– finish. You’d continue to beg all night if you had to. 

“Good girl.” The praise rolls off his tongue effortlessly, like music to your ears, “Go ahead, come on my cock.” 

His allowance encourages the climbing peak to fall over the ledge, the intense heat spreading like lava through your clenched limbs. The deafening sounds of your cries and moans are muffled while your cunt uncontrollably spasms around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“Hey–” The hand that still grips your chin inches down to your throat, squeezing lightly to keep your focus on him, “Eyes on me while you come– That’s right.” 

The remainder of your orgasm squeezes his erection in a pulsing pattern that slows gradually and your breathless moans morph into heavy pants. His eyes melt into yours, his pupils blown while he examines your writhing body and the sweet whimpers that dance on your tongue. Chasing his release, Jake maintains his momentum, silent curses intertwining between the forced grunts as he keeps his hold on your neck. Bringing a hand to his, your fingers wrap around his wrist, encouraging him to stay there as you grin, holding strong eye contact, “Come inside me.”

“F-fuck.” He nearly collapses when the hushed words leave your lips and you feel the frantic twitching of his cock, coating your walls with his cum. Wide eyes hold yours while he lazily grinds into you, his stomach flexing with each spurt of cum, now leaking out of you and spilling onto the sheets below you. His appearance is purely erotic; his eyebrows furrowed as his jaw stays agape, strands of hair sticking to his sweat-sheened skin, while letting out choked whines that catch in his throat. His breathing mimics yours; chest heaving and lips drying from rushed breaths. 

His hips sputter the final waves of his orgasm with a shuttered breath landing on your relaxed features. His movements slow to a halt, the only feeling left now being the subtle throbbing of his softening cock and your fucked-out cunt. 

Staying inside you, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours in a light sweeping manner before placing a gentle kiss upon them. You hum at the tenderness, your eyes fluttering close when your lips move fluidly against his. It dawns on you that it’s the first time he’s kissed you since coming home; a sign of affection you weren’t aware you missed until now. Pulling away, he peppers kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, moving lower to repeat the action on your bare shoulder and collarbone.

Letting go of your neck, he sits back, hesitantly pulling out of you and watching as your mixed releases rush from your aching entrance. He’s in awe, his tongue darting from his mouth to wet his bottom lip as his eyes zero in on the profane view. 

“Let me clean you up.” He offers while climbing off the bed, pulling his boxers up, and stepping out of his jeans. Disappearing for a few moments, you hear shuffling in the en-suite bathroom, making you move into a sit-up position in bed. 

~~~~~

The warm water washes away the tension that had built a home in your muscles from your after-dinner escapades with Jake. While curled into a ball, the decent-sized bathtub allows you to sit between his legs as he cups water into his hands, letting the soapy liquid flow over your shoulders. 

“Tilt your head back.” The tenderness has returned to his voice, and you follow his instruction, letting your head fall back as he washes away the shampoo in your hair. His touch is careful, sweeping away the soaked strands of hair from your shoulder to press a firm kiss to the warm skin. “You did so well tonight.” 

You hum in response, your eyes closing and head rolling as he runs his hands along your shoulders, kneading away the tightness within them. His thumbs dig into the firm flesh, but he presses kisses along the sore skin to distract from the faint ache in your muscles. 

When he’s finished, he hooks an arm over your chest, pulling you against him to lean further back. Your head rests just below his chin, and you smile when you feel his lips press into your scalp, pushing a kiss into the wet hair. His demeanor has done another 180, completely differentiating from who he was just minutes ago. 

“You gonna behave from now on?” He asks, already knowing the answer. If it got you this, there was no way you would ever behave, and he knows that. But, there’s no fun in admitting that.

“We’ll see.”

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Phew, rough!Jake did a number on me, so I'm sorry for the delay in posting! Which is mostly a result of Tumblr crashing on my phone. Anywho! As always, I hope you enjoyed. I'm overdue for a sweet!Jake one shot... Perhaps that'll be next.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Tags:

[dollishbabess]

A new kind of love??

A/n this fic is based off the song “a new of kind of love” by frou frou <3 I hope you enjoy!

Suggested nsfw? (Not really, if your gonna smth like this credit please or Aleast reblog this

Divider @cafekitsune - dollish

The rain pelted the windowpanes, echoing in the dimly lit apartment. It was the kind of evening that made Jason Todd’s mind wander into the shadows of his past, the memories of blood, betrayal, and endless battles. But tonight was different, for you were here, sitting across from him, tracing the rim of your coffee mug, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

He leaned against the window sill, gaze drifting toward you as you spoke about something that happened earlier in your day. He was only half-listening, not out of disinterest, but because he was too focused on memorizing the way your lips moved, the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore when you thought no one was paying attention.

“… and then he spilled his entire coffee on himself, seriously I think he might’ve had too much to drink? After all it was a Sunday morning!” you finished, laughing lightly.

Jason smirked, shaking his head. “Sounds like he had a rough day.” (🐻‍❄️)

You nodded, then shifted your gaze to him, eyes softening. “You seem distracted. Are you okay?” Your feeling a bit hurt ‘what if he he found you cringe?’ But you shook it off

Jason hesitated. He was never good with words, not when they mattered. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

“About?” you pressed, leaning forward, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. How could he explain it to you? How could he tell you that every time he was with you, he felt something he thought was long dead, something he had buried beneath layers of pain and anger? “You make me feel…” He trailed off, searching for the right words, then gave a small, almost defeated laugh. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could anymore.”

Your brows knitted together, concern etching into your features. “Is that… bad?”

“No,” he said quickly, and then softer, more vulnerable, “No, it’s not bad. It’s just… new.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “You know, when you’ve been through as much as I have, you start to think that you’ve seen it all, that you’ve felt it all. But then you show up, and it’s like I’m experiencing everything for the first time.” He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s a new kind of love.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence stretched on, not awkward, but heavy with the weight of unspoken words, of shared feelings that neither of you were quite ready to acknowledge until now, it felt like a situation ship at first but.. he really loved you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “You’ve seen the worst of the world, Jason. You’ve faced things most people can’t even imagine. But maybe…” You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. “Maybe that’s why you deserve something new. Something good, I got a feeling you are-“ you cut off worried of how he looked at you.

He stared at you, a million emotions flashing in his eyes—hope, fear, longing, disbelief. “You really think I deserve that?” he asked, his voice cracking just slightly.

You nodded, not a hint of doubt in your expression. “I do. And if you’re willing to take the chance, I want to be the one to give it to you.”

Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of this—of loving and being loved in return.

He closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms, his head resting against yours. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice muffled against your hair. “But for you… I’m willing to try.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. “That’s all I ask.”

And in that moment, with the rain washing away the remnants of the past, Jason Todd found himself falling into a love he had never known before—something raw, something real, something entirely new.

Later on patrol with dick “dude, are you falling in love? Or what you totally fumbled the confession.” said dick grinning at his younger brother or little wing he called him, the same grin Jason swore he thought of committing just not to see it, “shut up dickhead.”

(🐻‍❄️)

—love is the embodiment of you and Jason, you fill each other perfectly, he never felt like he’s been loved this hard ever by anyone which gives him suspicions that your a spy but your perfect in his eyes always and forever you always find each other in different universes together.

Made by @dollishbabess please do not put in any other platforms ty ever much!

Again divider credit @cafekitsune

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