#her dog had to interrupt them. X)

[teaboot]

Things you can do as a security guard instead of acting like a dickhead: a vent post disguised as advice

Offer alternatives: IE, “Sorry, nobody’s allowed to hang out over there, but we have seats over here you’re welcome to use”. I recommend getting familiar with local parks, public seating, free food programs, outreach, mobile aid, etc., just in case those are needed.

Be polite: IE, “Excuse me, sir”, “I beg your pardon, miss”. This should go without saying but everyone deserves dignity.

Avoid phrasing requests as orders: IE, “Don’t stand in front of that” VS “Excuse me, could you move a bit to the side?”. This works best with an explanation, like, “There’s a sign behind you”, or, “you might get clipped by someone”. This helps communicate that you are asking for a reason, not just throwing your weight around. If you don’t have a reason, rethink whether or not you need to be doing anything.

Avoid directing blame or fault. Don’t say, “The owner says you gotta go” when you could say, “I’m not supposed to let people be here for X period” or “do X thing”. Again, try to have alternatives ready so people can use other resources or do something else instead of just abruptly changing plans.

Come from a place of compassion whenever you can. People are gonna tell you to get rid of the crazy screaming guy. They say that because they’re frightened and don’t know what to do. Your best approach is, “Hello sir”, followed by, “How are you today?”, “how’s it going?”, “are you doing alright?”, etc., depending on what the person is ACTUALLY doing / saying when you get there. You can offer help from there if needed, or leave them alone if they’re not in danger or a risk to anyone.

Remember you’re not a cop. This can mean whatever you need it to mean. For me personally, that means that with incredibly rare exception (like trying to sell to kids, contaminating other’s food or drink) I won’t report you for drugs. If I find you doing drugs on my site I’ll tell you a different place where you can do them instead and ask you to do them there. I have interrupted drug deals to ask the client and the salesman to both kindly move 15 feet to the left, I’m not kidding, I do not care.

Know who you can throw under the bus. Sometimes you gotta enforce rules and be the bad guy and if that’s the fault of some dipshit in a suit 200 miles away, you can say that. Sorry man, I can’t let you park your car on the lawn. I know you’re not hurting anyone and frankly I think lawn culture is stupid but there’s other parking stalls and if my boss sees you I’ll get a write-up for not doing my job. Shit sucks sometimes but if it wasn’t me telling you it’d be the new guy, and between you and me he’s an idiot and he’ll probably just report you to bylaw.

Don’t just act like you’re their friend, genuinely try to be a good friend. If you know that someone is doing something that will only result in a bystander phoning police, don’t let them go down like that. Let them know, “hey man, you seem like you’re having a shit time and I get it, I’ll do what I can, but we gotta have this conversation somewhere else ‘cause we’re freaking out the old ladies.”

Swallow your tongue. You can’t fix the world. People are gonna bitch at you about communists and 5G and gangster rap ruining the neighbourhood, that’s just part of the deal. Nod along, remain neutral, shut down any hate speech, redirect if you can, and keep a limit in mind where you’ll have to shut things down.

Accept that sometimes there are no solutions. Yes, that angry guy who blasts music will be back tomorrow. That homeless woman who asks you to help her find her dog that she hasn’t had in 30 years will ask again, and yes, you’re still going to take a description and promise to keep an eye out. That kid who smokes crack behind the building has been clean for a few weeks and still stops by to say hi, and you hope he’ll get his life together and be happy, but he also might relapse and OD before he hits 25. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can, even if nothing is guaranteed.

Be kind to teenagers. Being a kid is hard, and everyone’s on their ass all the damn time for everything.

Remember that the vast majority of bad people aren’t bad, just unhappy. The guy who keeps showing up drunk and puking on the carpet is unhappy. The lady who bitches about the service every single time and keeps coming back anyway is unhappy. The guy who leaves trash everywhere is probably unhappy. If they were happy, maybe they’d do better, but they’re not, and that’s kinda sad. You don’t have to let them get away with their shit, but they probably aren’t actually a worthless human being either.

It doesn’t matter if 12 is true or not. You need to believe it or you will become a harsh and bitter person. Look for evidence that people are not terrible and invent it if you have to

Don’t let yourself become a bastard

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Can u pls do a dad lando fic with like toddler aged daughter who sees like Leo and Rosco and gets rlly excited and I playing with them x

Leo & Roscoe

The paddock was buzzing, as it usually did on race weekends. Mechanics bustled between garages, the press scurried for quotes, and fans cheered from behind barricades. But in the middle of all that energy, something unusually sweet caught a few sets of eyes.

A tiny giggle.

"Papa, look! Leo! Roscoe!" a tiny voice squealed, pointing an excited finger toward two familiar furry figures.

Lando turned just in time to see his three-year-old daughter, Yn, waddle-run across the hospitality area, curls bouncing, her little feet moving with all the determination of a toddler on a mission. She had spotted the stars of many an F1 fan account: Leo, the golden dachshund, and Roscoe, the bulldog.

Oscar, sitting beside Lando on one of the outdoor couches, chuckled. "She’s faster than some rookies I’ve seen."

Lando blinked. "Oh my god—Yn, wait!" He stood, momentarily frozen as Yn reached the two dogs.

Leo was curled up by Charles’ feet, while Roscoe was lying down in the shade near Lewis, panting lazily in the warm afternoon sun. Before either man could react, Yn crouched—well, more like squatted unsteadily—and gently patted Leo’s back.

"Soft," she murmured with wonder.

Charles raised his brows but quickly smiled. "Well, bonjour, petite."

Roscoe lifted his head, curious. Yn turned, her eyes lighting up as she saw the bulldog. "Roscoe!"

Lewis chuckled. "Someone knows their F1 dogs."

Roscoe stood and trotted over to Yn, who clapped her hands in delight. "Doggie friend!"

By now, Lando had made it over, a mix of apology and panic written all over his face. "Sorry! I'm so sorry. She just—she saw them and—"

Lewis waved a hand. "It’s okay, mate. Roscoe loves kids."

Charles nodded, kneeling down beside Leo. "And Leo’s used to being pampered. I think he likes her already."

Indeed, Leo had stretched out, tail wagging slowly, clearly content as Yn gently traced a finger down his back.

Oscar arrived behind Lando, hands in his pockets, grinning. "Should we start charging her appearance fees now? She's the real paddock highlight."

Yn turned to look up at the adults, face glowing. "Papa, look! They’re smiling!"

"They are," Lando said, laughing nervously, kneeling beside her. "You have to be gentle, remember?"

"I am gentle," Yn said seriously, now petting Roscoe’s big head. "He has flops." She touched his ears.

"Floppy ears, yes," Lewis said, visibly charmed.

Charles leaned toward Lando. "She’s got a good touch. Didn’t even flinch when Leo twitched his tail."

Lando exhaled. "I was afraid she’d pull it. She did that with a stuffed giraffe once. It did not end well."

Yn, blissfully unaware of the adults’ conversation, was now arranging a pretend picnic with her toy banana and a leaf she had found. Roscoe and Leo, surprisingly cooperative, sat in front of her as she "served" them.

Oscar lowered his sunglasses. "I feel like we’re watching something sacred. Should we bow or something?"

Lewis laughed. "Don’t interrupt the tea party. Roscoe takes his role seriously."

Charles sat cross-legged on the floor, chin resting on his hand. "This is the most peace I’ve felt all week."

Lando gave him a sideways glance. "You don’t even have kids."

"But I have Leo. He counts."

"Fair."

The group stood back, letting Yn enjoy herself. At one point, she put a leaf crown on Leo’s head, and the dachshund surprisingly didn’t shake it off. Charles took a photo. "I’m printing this. Christmas card."

Time passed without any of them noticing. Mechanics came and went, occasionally pausing to smile. A few fans, noticing the scene through the media fence, whispered excitedly and took sneaky photos—because even in Formula 1, nothing beat a toddler giving two dogs an imaginary feast.

After nearly thirty minutes of playtime, Yn stood up, brushing off her little shorts.

"Papa," she called, toddling over. Lando immediately bent to meet her eye level. "Yes, baby?"

Her eyes were wide, serious. "Can we have a dog now, too?"

Silence.

Oscar made a choking sound.

Lewis turned away, pretending to cough.

Charles burst into laughter.

Lando blinked. Once. Twice. "Uh…"

Yn waited expectantly.

He glanced helplessly at the others. "Guys. Help."

Oscar crossed his arms. "This is all you, Dad of the Year."

"No pressure," Lewis added with a grin.

"You can borrow Leo anytime," Charles offered innocently.

Yn tugged Lando’s shirt. "Please? I’ll feed it and hug it and name it Princess Pancake."

Oscar burst out laughing. "Princess Pancake?!"

"She already has a name picked out," Charles noted, impressed.

"And responsibilities listed," Lewis added. "What else could you need?"

Lando groaned, rubbing his face. "I can’t believe I’m losing a negotiation to a toddler."

Yn climbed into his lap, looking up with those wide, pleading eyes. "Pleeeease, Papa."

He sighed dramatically. "We’ll talk to Mummy, okay?"

Yn squealed in delight, throwing her arms around his neck.

Oscar mock-whispered, "You’re doomed."

Lando didn't even try to deny it.

Later that evening, after the garage had quieted down and the sun began to dip below the paddock horizon, Lando found himself still thinking about that moment.

Yn had fallen asleep in his arms, her little arms tucked around her stuffed monkey, utterly exhausted from a full day of canine adventures. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the sun.

Lewis, passing by on his way back to the motorhome, paused. "She’s out?"

"Like a light," Lando replied quietly.

Lewis nodded at Yn’s peaceful form. "She’s a sweet kid. You’re doing good."

Lando glanced down at her. "Thanks. It’s... a lot, sometimes. But she’s worth all of it."

Charles joined them, having retrieved Leo, who was now snuggled in his arms like a loaf of bread. "She really does have good instincts. Leo doesn’t warm up to just anyone."

"I noticed," Lando said, smiling. "Sorry again for her ambushing him."

"She didn’t ambush," Charles said. "She approached with love. That’s different."

Oscar jogged over, carrying a juice pouch. "She left this in the pit. Thought I’d rescue it."

Lando chuckled. "Thanks, man."

Oscar nodded, then grinned. "So. Dog adoption center tomorrow?"

"Don’t start."

"I heard Princess Pancake is available."

"I swear—"

"I’ll come with you," Charles said with faux seriousness. "We can test how she reacts to breeds."

"You all are enjoying this too much," Lando muttered.

Lewis laughed. "Just wait until she brings a kitten home."

Lando looked like he might faint.

Yn stirred slightly in his arms and mumbled in her sleep, "Princess... Pancake..."

All three drivers lost it.

Lando sighed, smiling despite himself. Maybe a dog wasn’t the worst idea after all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-♡○♡

[paulyenvol6]

'I'm a pleaser'

Pedro x female reader

So.... about the interview... It was so hot hearing him say this phrase, so I thought I'm gonna write something about Pedro being down bad for reader and always wanting to please her and be good to her. Enjoy :)

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, fluff, dirty talk, praise, Pedro being the sweetest and best and kindest husband in the world, Pedro having both sub and dom vibes, Pedro is a pleaser, established relationship (they're married), nicknames like baby and honey and babygirl

Wordcount: 4,031

Masterlist

"Hi baby," you shouted, the weight of the bag on your arm making your wrist hurt and you groaned as you stepped through the door.

"Fuck!" you cursed, feeling it dangle against you. With much effort, you turned around and pushed the door shut. You were still trying to carry the two bags across the hallway and into the kitchen when the door to the living room opened.

"Honey. Lemme help you with that."

Pedro rushed toward you, taking the bags from you without waiting for your reply and brought them into the kitchen while you exhaled and wiped with the back of your hand over your brow to remove the drops of sweat pooling on your skin.

"Thank you, Pedro!" you shouted as you took off your jacket and hung it on the coat rack before following him.

"No worries. How was your day?" he said over his shoulder and then started to unpack the groceries, but stopped when you hugged him from behind.

"Good," you mumbled against his nape, your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. "Work was fine and then I met with Sarah in café and on the way home I went to the grocery store. Did you know that Sarah and Mike are gonna get a dog?"

Pedro's hand came down to rest on top of yours and you smiled as he started to trace your knuckles.

"Oh really? Aren't they stressed out enough?"

"Yeah, but they think it would be nice for the kids… How was your day?"

You nudged your chin against his shoulder, admiring his profile and then kissing him right next to his ear while Pedro cleared his throat.

"A little exhausting from time to time. But good. I mostly shot with Joseph and Vanessa today which was nice."

You closed your eyes, lazily tracing his abs with your fingers while softly purring. "That's good…"

Pedro's lips curled which you couldn't see and then carefully turned in your hold so he could stand in front of you and cradle the back of your head while you gave him a gentle smile.

"Let me unpack this stuff, okay? You go in the living room, sit down and then I'll be right there and we're gonna have a nice evening. How does that sound?" Pedro whispered, pursing his lips and then grabbing your hand to press a kiss on your palm.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice equally quiet and your eyes flickering uncertainly between your husband and the bags. "You had an exhausting day and I – "

"Yes. I'm sure," Pedro interrupted you before you were able to finish the sentence and pulled your head toward him to tenderly kiss your hairline.

"You can relax. I'm good, I promise. In fact, thank you for going to the grocery store. I already feel awful for letting you do that after work."

"Pedro. C'mon," you frowned, but couldn't maintain the facade when he grimaced and then singlehandedly turned you around so you faced the kitchen door.

"Go on, now. Rest on the couch and I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright, alright," you murmured, lifting your hands and unwillingly following his demand.

The smile was glued to your lips, your face still glowing with love and affection for your perfect, caring husband as you sank down on the couch with a sigh and dropped your head back so it could finally rest. Truthfully, your day had been tough, but the prospect of rounding off the evening snuggled up with Pedro was too tempting to waste time feeling sorry for yourself. Therefore you waited with closed eyes and a slight curve on your lips while listening to the noises in the kitchen. Pedro quietly hummed a familiar tune to himself that you couldn't name though and then finally, when he had put the last can of chickpeas away in the cupboard, you could hear his feet dragging across the kitchen floor as he headed to the door.

"I'm done, baby," he shouted while shoving the bags into a drawer and despite your heavy limbs, you turned in your seat to watch him walk through the door.

"C'mere," you said, your voice thin and quiet, your weakness visible, but your desire to finally have him close to you loud and clear. He grinned wryly, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself right next to you, the couch mellifluously grunting under his weight. You instantly enguled Pedro in a tight embrace and let out a high-pitched noise of approval when he pressed your face to his chest, all of your senses consumed by his typical scent of cinnamon.

"I missed you, baby. Missed you all day…," he growled, tenderly stroking up and down your back while your fingers played with the babyhair in his neck.

"I missed you, too. Is there anything on your schedule for tomorrow?" you whispered, your face tense with the fear of him telling you that he wouldn't have time for you, but to your fortune, you felt him shake his head.

"No. I have the day free. It's a Saturday, c'mon. Disney's not that tough on me."

He chuckled, the vibrations feeling magical in your chest and you noticed your stomach clench with sheer adoration for the man holding you so gently and firmly, representing just what you were feeling. You were yearning for him, desiring to spend the rest of your life cuddled up against his chest if it only was possible.

"Okay. Can we do something then?" you asked, lifting your head to dart up to him and feeling your heartrate pick up at the softness surrounding his brown puppy eyes.

"Of course. You wanna do something special?"

You nodded, the thought only having flickered in your head just now, but it sounded heavenly in your mind.

"Can we go on a picknick? We could go to Hampstead Heath or – or OmVed gardens, it's not that busy there. We surely would have our privacy if we find ourselves a nice corner."

Pedro pursed his lips like he was thinking, but quickly softened his expression and nodded.

"That sounds good. Although… You sure it's not a bit too cold for that? I don't want you to get sick, you know?"

"I'm sure it's gonna be fine. We can take blankets with us. And hot tea. I mean, we're in London, right?"

He scoffed and then lowered your head to his collarbone again while giving your waist a squeeze.

"Okay. Let's do it then. But… in the evening I'd like to be back in the city."

Your head shot up again, your eyes small as you suspiciously observed his wrinkled forehead and the faint smirk playing around his lips.

"Why?"

"That's a surprise."

Your eyebrows drew together, your hands leaving the back of his neck so you could cross your arms in front of your chest.

"No," you complained, well-aware of the fact that Pedro knew how much you hated surprises. You were much too unpatient to even just wait for a day to find out what he had planned.

"Yes," Pedro said, remaining unwavering as he put his hands on your hips. "You'll have to wait to find out."

"Baby, you know that I can't wait 24 hours. That's cruel."

He chuckled and then glared at the watch around his wrist.

"Mhmm… not 24 hours. Let's say… 22 and 30 minutes. You got this."

A dramatic whine left your throat as you threw your head back and pretended to sob into your hands.

"You really gonna do this to me? Even though you know that I don't like secrets. Are you gonna do that to your wife? You're a bad husband, you know that, right?"

Obviously Pedro couldn't just let that go, so he tightened his grip on your hips and pulled you up onto his lap until you were straddling him.

"You know, there are a lot of things you could hold over my head. Like… okay, maybe not a lot of things. But I'm not an awesome singer… I'm not a good cook. Definitely not. And I… I force you to watch bad movies with me without telling you what they're about so you can't back out. BUT… Don't you ever say again that I'm a bad husband."

He smiled cockily, narrowing his eyes while you thoughtfully twisted your lips. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Or you think you would find someone else who'd give you a trip to Paris just so you can visit an exhibition about your favorite director? Because I listen to you, I'm attentive and so I know what makes you happy. And wait… it wasn't even your birthday."

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head, but a telling smile had crept up on your face that you were unable to supress.

"Oh come on. You don't have to be a genius to know that I love Wes Anderson. When do I ever stop talking about him?"

Your hands came up to cradle his face and although you were still pretending to sulk you briefly brushed with your lips over his temple. Pedro wouldn't have it though, he withdrew, raised his brows and then shook his head.

"I want you to take it back."

His eyes were sparkling with a mischievous amusement, but there was also something determined. Nevertheless, you bit your lip like you still weren't sure and then were about to say something – admit that he actually was more than a good husband (the perfect husband) – when he suddenly pulled you in close and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was heated and intense, so hot that the air between your faces seemed to crackle and before you could process what was happening, you desperately grinded your core against the bulge beneath his pants. Pedro had his hands situated on your waist, palming and squeezing whenever your clothed pussy nudged against the tip of his dick, but then sooner than you wanted it to end, he stopped the kiss and looked you up and down.

"Okay, baby. Lemme show you then. Maybe I have to remind you of how good I am to you."

Your body shivered at the words or maybe it was his low husky voice that sent goosebumps all over your arms, but either way it worked perfectly on you and you gulped while Pedro secured his hold around your torso and picked you up. One arm was around your shoulder blades and the other on your ass, watching you with dark and flashing eyes while he rose to his feet to carry you away from the living room and to the bedroom.

"I wanna make you feel so good, babygirl. I want you to cum so hard, you forget your own name. I always want you to be happy and – and I wanna be the reason for your happiness…," he raspily whispered, covering your neck and cleavage with wet kisses that produced a smacking sound.

"Pedro…," you whimpered, your core helplessly rocking forward to somehow find any friction, but you would have been unsuccessful, hadn't he assisted you and brought his right hand between your legs. You rejoiced, your breath catching in your throat as you finally had the opportunity to grind against something and achieve at least a little bit of stimulation on your throbbing clit.

"Yeah… Say my name, I wanna hear how good I make you feel."

The next moan was swallowed as Pedro suddenly threw you onto the bed, but was so careful about it, a hand at the back of your head so that you couldn't bump it against anything. He didn't hesitate and followed, crawling to lay on top of you and propping himself on his knees and elbow so he didn't bury you under his weight.

"I want you to feel perfect, honey… You want me to go down on you? Just need you to… need you to cum for me… need you to be happy."

"I always am with you, Pedro," you whispered, but then whimpered as he cupped your breasts through your blouse, precisely searching for your nipple and then circling it with his thumb.

"Y-Yes," you ended up stuttering in regards to his ealier question and pressed your legs together to forget the pulsing heat between them.

"Please do something… I need it bad."

Judging by the look of sheer joy on his face, it was exactly what he had wanted to hear. Pedro lived to please you; lived to see you smile or moan or laugh or sigh in relief and what he loved even more was when he was the one making you feel that way. Therefore the prospect of going down on you and gifting you unimaginable pleasure was the perfect opportunity for him to feed this side of him and please you in ways that were purely enthralling and sensational for the both of you.

"Okay, babygirl. I want you to relax and enjoy it and tell me if you don't like anything, alright?" he whispered while opening the first few buttons of your blouse, his fingers so trained and skillful that he did it while maintaining eye contact.

"Yes, Pedro. Please, just – I need it."

"I know, I know," he cooed, slightly pushing the fabric of your shirt over your shoulders to reveal more skin and then crawling down your body in one go so his head was on the same level as your stomach.

The softness of his eyes, the big brown irises and the slightly parted lips were ravishing, your heart racing although Pedro hadn't even started yet. He didn't tease and edge you, but still you needed him go 10 times faster when he opened the button of your pants and shoved them down your legs until they dangled around your knees, your underwear following soon. He chuckled at your trembling legs and the way your heels dug into the mattress in search of release, but was quick to press a warm hand on the inside of your knees. All that reached your ears before his words were drowned by your pussy was a quiet 'Jesus…' and then your back arched off the bed as Pedro pressed a bold kiss right onto your clitoris, a gesture that was both welcoming and frustrating. You yearned for friction, for something to rub against to ease the coiling ache in your clit, but you felt that the more he gave you, the more you needed.

"Fuck. Fuck, Pedro, oh god…," you whimpered, biting down on your own hand while bending your neck so you could look down at him. And the image was more than worth it.

His puppy eyes looked even more tempting and sultry, his locks gleaming beautifully in the dim light and his lips glistening deliciously every time he withdrew for a moment to lick over them. One of the things you loved the most was the way he seemed to savour and adore every drop of your wetness that he got to taste on his tongue because it not only gave you confidence, but made you feel desirable. Beautiful and torrid.

His left hand had wandered to your breasts, kneading and tracing the swell as if he didn't want to neglect any part of your body while his right kept your legs wide open for him.

"So good Pedro… Fuck, please – please, I…"

It was all mindless stuttering, just some way to get rid of the accumulated tightness in your thighs and belly, but Pedro was listening precisely to everything leaving your mouth.

"Yes, baby… Talk to me. What do you need?"

He trailed down the front of your body, drawing a few soothing circles on top of your lower belly before grabbing your hand that was pressed to the side of your body.

"Just – Just you… Fuck, right there."

The tip of his tongue was drawing random patterns over your clit, lines and circles and triangles and you seemed to lose your mind over and over again every time his heavy, warm, rough tongue grazed the sensitive nub. At some point you couldn't help yourself, your free hand grabbing his locks and gently tugging at it while you started to roll your hips against his face, which caused Pedro to growl deeply.

"Yes, honey… Take from me what you need… S'right…"

The vibrations transferred right to your body, prickling against your swollen clit and you threw your head back, your lids fluttering and your mouth agape. You were speechless and restricted in your ability to move apart from the shifting of your hips, but Pedro seemed to know exactly what you needed and acted accordingly. This wasn't him teasing or edging you, graciously giving before drawing back just to hear you beg, no, he intended to please you in every way possible and give you what you desired before you could even express your demand.

"Yes…. Pedro, please. Need your fingers too," you pressed, slamming your hand, that had been in his hair, down on the bed next to you as he kitten-licked your clit, the tip of his tongue precise and accurate like a laser pointer. He obliged as soon as the words had left your mouth and brought two fingers to your hole, prodding and tracing your entrance before easing them inside of your drenched pussy. The gasp you let out made his heart skip a beat or two and he testingly curled his two digits, feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins at your whimpering.

"Y-Yes. Right there Pedro, please. Please don't stop."

"Not going to, honey."

The combination truly was electrifying. The dance of his tongue over your clit was your main source of stimulation, the tight circles proof of how well he knew your body by now, but his thick curled fingers, repeatedly brushing over your sweet spot hidden deep inside of you only added to the ecstasy of it all.

"It's right there, huh?" he murmured, the wet sound of his tongue lapping up the juices he had spread all over your pussy almost overcasting his words.

"It's itching right there, isn't that right? Lemme make it better."

The heat in your belly became almost unbearable, your pelvis tremoring with the need to finally crossing that bridge and letting all of the tension in your body go, but at the same time his mouth and hands on you felt so good that a part of you wished it could just go on like this for all time.

You brought a hand to his head again, combing through the silky stunning locks, but holding on to him at the same time which surely stung in his scalp, but he took it with a deep groan.

"Jesus fucking christ… You taste so perfect. You're gonna cum for me?"

You wriggled, the hand that was still clasped by Pedro's squeezing him tightly and wrapping the whole of your hand around his thumb.

"Yes. Yes, I wanna cum, Pedro, please…"

You didn't even know what you were begging for because he was right here and you knew he would tease as many orgasm out of you as you wished, make you cum over and over again if you liked it and find pleasure in it as well. It was just so much. There were so many things you were feeling and you believed that if you didn't vocally express the pleasure you were receiving, you would burst.

He slowly, but forcefully moved the two fingers inside of you, relentlessly tapping against your inner walls and the precious sweet spot that was so sensitive and delicate under his touch. Meanwhile, the pace of his tongue picked up and Pedro moved the hand that had previously rested on your hip bone to your pussy to get the protective hood out of the way and brush over the very responsive underside of the bundle of nerves.

"Pedro, I'm gonna – I – "

You stopped mid-sentence, your jaw dropping and your view becoming blurry while a sticky, warm liquid seemed to tide through your limbs and first and foremost, your thighs. It pulsed and saturated your already mushy brain to a point where you couldn't even pay attention to your husband between your legs anymore although it was such a pretty picture. Your hand squeezed his thumb firmly, almost bending his hand in an unnatural angle, but your head was too high up in the clouds to question it and Pedro once again took it all without drawing his face.

"There you go, yes… God, I love seeing you fall apart for me, it's such a beautiful fucking sight…"

He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers carefully thrusting in you and his tongue glued to your clit until he noticed the way you squirmed and stopped to check on you.

"My perfect baby…," he whispered full of admiration and glanced up to you, grinning at your half-lidded eyes that tiredly tried to keep their focus on his face. You were wrecked and exhausted, but seemed very satisfied and Pedro could proudly say that it was his doing.

"That was so good," your airy voice reached his head, quiet like you didn't have the strength to speak louder. Pedro's insides twisted and turned pirouettes, his eyes on your slightly parted lips while he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pussy, licked them clean in relish and then glided his tongue through your folds one last time to slurp up your arousal before wiping over his lips with the back of his hand. At this point your eyes were completely shut and the steady heaving of your chest suggested that you were asleep. But when Pedro moved up the bed, the mattress jiggling and the silk sheets rustling your lashes fluttered and you softly moaned.

"Pedro," you murmurated and flexed your toes when he lay down beside you and was quick to pull you closer, a hand brushing the sweaty hair out of you face and another caressing your cheek.

"I love you so much, honey… Are you all good?"

If you hadn't been so tired, you would have widened your eyes at the question, your heart pounding with an infinte love and adoration for your husband. You were not only in awe of his beauty in this light, the things he had made you feel, but also just of him. The way he had just made you feel dreamlike things and now asked you if you were good.

"Yes. More than good, Pedro," you stated and leaned into the touch of his hand on your face.

"But I – I wanna make you feel good, too," you said, your voice wishful and reverant, but the way you could barely keep your eyes open very telling. Pedro chuckled lowly and kissed you right between your brows.

"We're gonna do that another time. You're tired and need some rest. Don't you worry about me, I got everything I wanted tonight."

He took your hand again, vaguely trailing along your fingers with his thumb and shook his head in amusement when you hummed in dissatisfaction.

"But, no… You need to cum too."

"Shhhh, baby…," Pedro soothed you, tugging you snug against his broad body until all you could see and hear and smell was him. The grey fabric of his hoodie, his heartbeat and the familiar sweet cinnamon.

"I got everything I wanted… Got to have a taste of you and listen to your pretty noises… And see you cum for me… It's all I'm ever gonna need in my life. I just always want you to be satisfied and happy."

Pedro exhaled, peacefully kissing you on top of your head as if he was blind to how messy your hair was.

"I love you, Pedro," you whispered, about to drift off to sleep, but before you could do that you had to say one more thing.

"You're the sweetest and best husband in the world."

He smirked broadly, his already soft eyes relaxing further and then he carefully and without moving too much, reached for the blanket and pulled it over both of your bodies.

"I love you, too," he whispered, not being certain that you were still awake, but it felt good saying it nonetheless.

It always felt good with you.

[reywritings]

Winner Takes It All

In which a family of detective's notice a suspiciously lucky trend when it comes to Jason's girlfriend.

Jason Todd x fem reader, no use of Y/N

All fluff, mostly slice of life, based of WFA for this one.

Enjoy this one! The next post is angst 😈🙏🔥

______________________________________________________________

“You’re not gonna win. You never do.” Dick says, elbowing Tim as they play against each other in Mario Kart, after finishing a long case.

“Stop elbowing me!” Tim kicks at him, and it isn’t long before they’re trying to multitask kicking each other while playing.

“You’re both children.” Jason says as he walks in, with a raised brow at the two men, they glare back at him, and see you walking in behind him.

“This is pretty on par.” You say, shrugging it off, not nearly as disappointed with the two as Jason is. 

Jason just rolls his eyes at them, giving you a shoulder squeeze as he goes to the library to grab what he came here for. Meanwhile, you lean on the back of the couch, watching the two play.

Dick addresses you in the middle of kicking Tim while trying to button smash at the same time, “Tell him I’m gonna win, obviously.”

You hum in thought. “Who’s playing as Rosalina?”

“Me!” Tim says, kneeing Dick again.

“Oh, well obviously I have to be on Tim’s side. Rosalina is the best character.” You nod, maybe your choice was purely for aesthetics but– its Princess Rosalina.

“What?!” Dick exclaims, and Tim laughs.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Tim says, pushing Dick’s leg off of him.

Dick rolls his eyes. “No, Toad is the best. And that’s why I’m gonna win–”

“I won.” Tim interrupts.

Dick stares at the screen slack jawed.

Jason walks back in, looks at the screen, looks at Dick, and then shrugs as he motions to you that he’s ready to leave.

Dick finally manages to glare at Tim five minutes later. “You got lucky! It was only because she rooted for you.”

Tim snorts. “Just admit you lost, dude.”

“No way! She’s a good luck charm. When have you ever beat me in Mario Kart on this map before?” 

Tim considers that. 

“Huh… what do you say to a science experiment?

______________________________________________________________

“I’m telling you, it’s definitely Kite-Man. Who else would be behind something as lame as this?” Steph asks, scoffing at the idea of it being anyone else. “Plus there was a kite at the scene.”

“Yeah. Which was at the park. Kites are in parks. That's what they do.” Duke counters, taking a seat at the kitchen counter, near Jason and you, the former seemed to show no interest in the conversation at all, but you turned to look at them.

“What’s this all about?” You ask with a raised brow.

“Someone stole all the hot dog carts at the park.” Steph sighs, bored by the mundane crime. Tim glances up, intrigued, but not because of the crime.

“My bets on Kite-Man.” Tim says, nonchalant. “..What about you?” He raises a brow as he looks at you.

“Uh– I’ll side with Duke. Keeps things even.”

“Thank you!” Duke seems genuinely touched.

Tim then pulls up the case notes on his computer, and looks for the latest police update.

“Well, what do you know? Not Kite Man.” Tim grins. This was sound evidence for him. Maybe you were lucky, after all..

Steph whips her head to Tim, eyes wide. “What?! Who?”

“Condiment King.”

“Fuck. I should have guessed that!”

______________________________________________________________

Four card games between Dick and Steph, a race between Cass and Duke, and three rounds of chess between Tim and Damian later, Tim and Dick reached the conclusion that you were, in fact, good luck.

However, in a family of detectives, it didn’t take long for a majority of the others to pick up on their scheme. Or to realize you were a good luck factor. 

“I’m gonna win. Obviously.” Tim declared, confidently at the dinner table as they finished up– they were having a family dinner for once, and afterwards they were going to have a round of Mario Kart… which meant the winner only had to ensure one thing.

“Fat chance!” Dick scoffs, immediately giving into his competitive spirit with that comment.

“No. I am.. You should root for me.” Tim says, suddenly addressing you now.

“Tempting— but maybe I should sit this out with Jay.” You knew how game night went with this family, and you did not want to get in the middle of that. 

“Or you could root for your favorite person?” Duke buts in, smiling as he slides his dessert plate towards you as a bribe.

“He’s gonna lose.” Tim points out, pulling the plate away.

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Duke retorts,ripping the plate away from Tim.

“No— she should root for me instead! Root for me, please!” Dick says, bringing his hands together as he begs.

You just laugh, but Jason looks completely annoyed by them now. Since when did they care who she was rooting for?

“No! She’s rooting for me—” Tim starts again, swatting at Dick as he tries to push Tim further away from you.

“If she’s truly as smart as Todd says, she’ll root  for me, obviously.” Damian interjects, a proud look on his face as he crosses his arms. 

Jason narrows his eyes. Okay, what was going on here?

Steph rolls her eyes. “Guys— stop it. This is all childish.”

The boys share a look, feeling a bit called out now. 

Dick looks at you. “We aren’t trying to make you feel uncomfor—“ 

“Obviously she’s rooting for me.” Steph says, interrupting him, standing up at the table as she grabs you by the shoulders. 

“Oh fuck you, you did that for dramatic effect—“ Dick slams his hands on the table.

“Like you aren’t the drama, Circus boy!”

You shake your head, deciding then would be a good time to go use the bathroom, because evidently— they would notice if you weren’t there during the actual games.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Jason turns back to everyone else.

“Okay, what the fuck is this all about?” He glares at them.

“Nothing!” 

“What’s what about?”

“None of your concern, Todd.”

“Language.”

They all respond, obviously too quick and dismissive with their responses.

“…I’m gonna ask one more time.” He says, slowly, making eye contact with everyone.

“…okay, fine— she’s good luck. That’s all.” Duke says, shrugging.

That gives Jason pause.

“What?”

Tim butts in, “Anytime anyone has a game or a bet— whoever she sides with always wins. I thought it was an anomaly at first but.. it’s happened too many times to not be a trend.”

“She’s like a lucky rabbit's foot.” Steph provides, leaning back in her chair.

Jason mulls over that thought. Anytime he played Mario Kart or a card game against Roy, he *did* usually win.. he thought he was just a natural but— he only won when she was home, too. He lost when she wasn’t there.

“…maybe there’s some truth to that.” Jason admits.

“See!” Dick says, glad this didn’t end in argument but also— he noticed it first, so he felt vindicated.

“Now we shall let her pick a team.” Damian says, ready to convince her why she should root for him.

“No.” Jason says, smirking a bit as he shakes his head. “..you really thought this would change anything? She’s going to root for me— and I’ll wipe the floor with you all.”

There’s a pause as everyone stares at him in either disbelief or anger.

“..I fear we made an error.” Tim mutters.

“I’m definitely playing now. Guaranteed to win? I mean— I probably would have won anyways.” Jason brags, standing up as he’s ready to go to the living room and start these games.

“You cheater!” Steph accuses, slamming her hand down on the table.

“We were trying to do the same thing though..?” Duke adds, scratching the back of his neck.

You walk back in— raising a brow at Jason as he’s standing up.

“Eager?” You ask, smiling creeping onto your face. “I thought you didn’t want to play?”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the living room, you could make out his family’s argument and protests from behind you.

“Changed my mind. As long as I have you on my side, I’ll always win.” He smiles cheekily at you.

“How romantic.” You say sarcastically, raising a brow at his sudden affinity to participate in game night.

He grins at you, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“…is this about me being a boon?” You question, side eyeing him with a soft smile.

“You knew?” He widens his eyes, pausing to look at you as you both stand in the living room door frame.

You snort. “Hard not to. They made it fairly obvious.”

“…you still gonna root for me?”

“Always.”

[oceantornadoo]

lowkey public humiliation kink? sugar daddy (dark) simon riley x f!reader. nipple piercings. terrible daddy kink and this is literally just smut without smut

au where you’re simon riley’s sugar baby and utterly embarrassed to be because he’s so public. insists on taking you to popular restaurants seated in a center booth, like he knows your bullies from high school picked today for their weekly lunch date. orders oysters and hand feeds them to you, licking the salty corners of your mouth afterwards before slipping a hundred dollar bill between your tits. no shadowy corners or dark bars - you’re lingerie shopping in broad daylight, eyes skittering when you see an old teacher you once had at a rack near you. it would be fine if he was your boyfriend, had some stake in the game, but he’s the puppet master pulling the strings.

“would pay a grand to see my cum on y’r tits in this, love.”

he holds a dark blue lace bra to your chest, groping you through the cups of it like he’s trying to see it fit. the store worker can only gape next to you, before shaking her head and gathering three more similar styles in your size. he’s such a dog and you can’t say no because you need the money desperately, thoughts of your previous shitty apartment in an even shittier neighborhood floating through your head.

now, you live in a high rise with floor to ceiling windows. he pays you more when you let him fuck you against them, naked tits against glass as the rough feel of his denim grinds into your ass with every thrust. there’s no clear rules with him, not anything like you’ve seen on sugar baby forums and tip sites. he doesn’t give you an amount for each action, simply an overstuffed envelope on the table when he eventually leaves.

“how much to get these pierced?” he pinches your nipple through the bikini top you’re wearing, interrupting your relaxed suntanning on your apartment balcony. “simon.” your frustration bleeds into your lack of forethought. he raises an eyebrow by a hair. “say that again, baby?” you bite your lip and look down, already regretting your mistake. “i’m sorry, daddy. you caught me off guard.” he grunts. simon tugs your tit out of its nylon confines and tugs it this way and that in the sunlight, pinching like he’s imagining a piercing. “didn’t answer my question, pet.” you question where your limits are. if you even have any at this point. he’s bulldozed through every wall you’ve put up, but his money and sheer presence protects you no matter what. sure, you’re topless on your balcony, but he bought you the penthouse so no one above you could see.

what can he give you that you don’t have? any debt has been paid, retirement accounts funded, enough clothes and bags to last a lifetime. you want something immaterial, some proof you’re not like the others.

“i want exclusivity. and i want to know where you’re going when you’re not here.” his hands don’t stop, moving to your other breast to free it as well. it’s somehow more obscene to still be wearing your top, tight fabric pushing your hardened nipples out like you’re presenting yourself to him, asking for attention. “can’t tell ya where i go, pet. got lots of enemies, matter of security.” you frown at the rejection. his hand moves to the soft expanse of your stomach, groping the fat there like playdoh. “ask f’r somethin’ else.” he doesn’t mention the exclusivity. you don’t want to ruin it by asking again.

“i want to see you shirtless.” you murmur. he always fucks you with his shirt on. t-shirt, button-up, wifebeater - it doesn’t matter. he’s stripped you down to his own personal puppet and you want something back. “after y’r tits heal, maybe.” you frown harder as his hand slides down to cup your cunt. there’s a wet spot on the light pink fabric of your bikini bottom and he presses it into you. you keen, arching at the sensation. “since i can’t play with your tits, you’ll wear no clothes when i’m home. understand?” he taps your cunt to get your attention. you want to protest but his dark brown eyes are so forceful, beating you into submission.

when you get them pierced (by a handsy man named johnny who insisted on ‘checking for lumps’ five seperate times while simon grunted in the corner), simon insists on cleaning them for you. he makes you open your mouth and hold a bill there on your tongue while he cleans them. you only get to keep them if you don’t make a sound while he touches the raw area, saline solution dripping between your tits. it’s pocket change and at this point money is immaterial, but you want to please your daddy so badly.

a few weeks later and his non-answer to your exclusivity question rings in your head incessantly. it’s there when he stops mid-fuck to take a call and when he sits you on his lap facing forward while he spreads paperwork on your bare back. he’s been “called in” (whatever that means) and is counting cash when you finally give in.

“daddy?” simon grunts, eyes on his wallet. “you never…” you trail off, suddenly unsure. abandoning his cash counting, he drops a black card on the table before turning to you. you’ve been naked all week but suddenly feel exposed, stripped bare. “spit it out, baby. time is money.” against your will, you roll your eyes at his joke. “now that i got them pierced…you never answered when i asked about exclusivity.” he approaches the chair your huddled on and tilts your chin up with a gloved finger.

“you’re the only girl i pay, pet.” you swallow hard. “and what about the ones you don’t?” his eyes search yours, looking for something. “don’t have any tha’ i don’t. got tha’ in y’r pretty ‘ead?” you nod eagerly, ignoring the slight burn in your tits as they bounce. “yes, daddy.”

“good. buy y’rself some toys when im gone, don’t wantcha too eager when im back.” there’s no bite in his tone, so you grin eagerly.

“bye, pet.” he pulls you in for a messy kiss. you’ve give it as good as you can, saliva connecting your lips as you part. his eyes track it as it falls down your bare chest. you open your legs a bit, giving him a glimpse of the wetness between them. “bye, daddy.”

“fuckin’ minx.”

-

follow for notifications: @tornadoowarning

originally made this about john price but slimy rabid simon is my favorite. i had a dream about sugar daddy john (mainly from this fic) and then this was born (i’m PMS horny)

also pls take care of your piercings

[tomsparkyr]

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!

following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

wc: 6.4K

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.

It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.

Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.

Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.

Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.

Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.

The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,

“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.

”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”

You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.

”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.

The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.

Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.

It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.

You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.

You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.

”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.

You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.

Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.

After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.

Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”

Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.

The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.

Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?

Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.

”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.

You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.

”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.

You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.

PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.

You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.

PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.

Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.

As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”

George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.

“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.

He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”

You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.

”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.

”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.

George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.

”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.

In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.

George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.

A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”

The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”

George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”

Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.

She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.

The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.

time skip!

The bedroom situation was the next challenge.

After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.

A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.

George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.

You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.

It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.

You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.

Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.

The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.

George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.

Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.

The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.

George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”

“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.

“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.

You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.

JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!” 

The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.

The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction. 

Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.

JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”

You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.

Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”

“Shut up.”

time skip!

The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.

As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.

You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.

As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”

George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.

“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.

“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.

You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.

Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.

You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.

“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.

The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.

You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.

“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.

“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.

“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.

You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.

George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”

“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.

You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.

George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.

You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”

Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.

You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).

interview room!

“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”

“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”

After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.

“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”

Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.

George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.

Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”

“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.

The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.

Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.

You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.

As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.

“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.

“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.

You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.

Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.

“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.

Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.

Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”

time skip!

Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).

“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.

The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.

George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.

“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”

As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”

“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.

Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”

You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”

Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”

He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.

Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”

Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.

“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.

“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.

Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”

Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”

You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”

“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.

George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!” 

PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.

“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.

George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”

The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.

George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”

Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.

Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).

You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.

Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?” 

George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.

“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.

“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.

“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.

“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”

George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”

A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.

“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”

You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!” 

“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears. 

“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.

“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.

However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.

“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”

Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.

“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”

JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”

You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”

“Say it!” They screamed.

“No!” You responded with the same energy.

“You’re not leaving until you tell--”

“George!”

Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.

George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.

Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.

Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.

You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”

time skip!

After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.

As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.

“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.

DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.

George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.

Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.

Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”

Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.

DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.

He raised his brows, “For real, man?”

George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.

time skip!

You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.

You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”

He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”

Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.

A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.

George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.

“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled. 

It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.

You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!” 

You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact. 

Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.

Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.

As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.

Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.

Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.

taglist (ps love u all):

@sidemenslver @wherethezoes-at @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @iammyownselfdestruction @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @hollie911

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The Weight of Choices

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk. A little angst.

Summary: Torn between his instinct to protect his family and his desire to be a part of their lives, Bucky tries to deal with the reality of his ex-wife going on a date while he stays home caring for their son.

Word Count: 8.8k.

Revised.

He was late. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing it on purpose. Bucky had agreed to watch their son tonight so she could go on a date, the third one since their divorce two years ago. The last couple of times, she’d managed to find a friend to babysit, but Saturday nights were always tough. So in the end, she had no choice but to come clean and ask Bucky.

She could still hear his voice from that awkward phone call, still feel his surprised tone when she’d told him she had plans.

“A date?” he repeated, the edge of disbelief was hard to miss.

"Yeah," she’d replied casually, but Bucky’s silence stretched longer than usual. He hated texting, so phone calls had become their norm, even for the smallest of things.

“With whom?” His attempt to sound nonchalant fell flat, the tension was evident, threading through every word.

“Chris,” she said, keeping her tone light, “You know, the music teacher at the kindergarten where I work? Blonde, easy smile... we walked past him once when he was out with his dog, Dodger.”

Bucky scoffed, and the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. “I knew it. I knew he had a thing for you.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Oh, please.”

“Every time I’d drop by the kindergarten, he’d just- his eyes followed you the whole time like he couldn’t look away. People don’t stare like that unless they’re thinking about something. And the way he’d smile, he was trying too hard to be just a ‘friendly co-worker.” His voice had dropped a notch, as his irritation kept creeping in.

“Are you serious?” she shot back, incredulous. But Bucky wasn’t done.

“How long’s this been going on?” The question came out more like an accusation.

“It’s our first date. You know I only recently started dating again,” she replied, patience wearing thin.

He paused, clearly unsatisfied. “So what, he’s just been waiting for his chance, ready to pounce-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, James,” she interrupted firmly. “You’re not entitled to know anything about my love life the moment you decided you wanted the divorce.”

There was an uncomfortable silence on the line. She could hear him breathing, and the tension stretched between them until finally, he sighed.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. I’ll take care of Benjamin on Saturday night.”

The recall of the conversation was interrupted by Ben, who wanted to show her what he did with his Legos.

Bucky had been sitting in front of the house for half an hour now. Sometimes, like tonight, he regretted what he’d done, but deep down, he knew it had been necessary. After the terrifying incident when Hydra agents attempted to kidnap their son, hoping to test if any of the serum’s powers had been passed down genetically, he realized that his past would eventually catch up with them. He had to make sure they were safe, even if it meant tearing apart everything they’d built.

He knew she wouldn’t understand if he told her the truth. If he had laid out his fears and his guilt and spiraled into a self-deprecating parade like he always did, she would have fought him and convinced him to stay. So he waited.

He knew the only way to make her believe it was to weave in just enough truth to his argument, so slowly he began pulling away, setting the stage for what would be his ultimate break. Late nights, distant conversations, an almost non-existent sexual life, and missed moments with their son, all led to this. He needed her to see that the life they had wasn’t something he could carry anymore.

When the moment came, he didn’t hesitate. He told her he felt suffocated by their life together. That the roles of husband and father were more than he could bear after everything he had been through. She didn’t believe him at first, and he could see the determination in her eyes, the will to fight for what they had.

So, he played the card he knew would make her stop fighting him. He spoke of the years he’d spent as a puppet, how he had never truly known freedom, never had control over his life. He appreciated everything she had done for him, all the love and support she had given, but it wasn’t enough. He needed air, space to figure out who he was beyond the roles he had been forced into. He made it sound like staying with her, staying in the family they’d built, was just another form of captivity.

It crushed her. Bucky could see the moment her resistance faded. She believed him, not because she wanted to, but because he made it seem so real. So she stood there, heartbroken, but unable to argue against the logic he’d presented.

The first months after the divorce were hard on both parts. For her, that time was the hardest, filled with sleepless nights and the nagging feeling that Bucky had simply abandoned her, walked away from their life, their love, without a second thought. She wrestled with the confusion and the heartbreak, trying to piece together where things had gone wrong. For Bucky, it was a different kind of suffering. He bore the weight of his decision in silence, knowing he had walked away to protect them, but that didn’t ease the sting of loneliness or the guilt that clawed at him almost every day.

Their lives moved on separately. They saw each other only in passing, and even that was rare. Bucky would pick up Benjamin directly from daycare once a week, dropping him off the next morning before heading back to his life, careful to avoid lingering long enough for awkward conversations. Sometimes he didn’t make it at all, missing his time with his son when missions pulled him away. Immersing himself in his work was easier than facing what he had left behind, the family he still wanted but couldn’t allow himself to have. Meanwhile, she did her best to create some normalcy for Benjamin, even as the space Bucky left behind echoed through their small home.

Even though their lives had drifted apart, Bucky never truly let go. He kept his distance, but never far enough to lose sight of them. Unbeknownst to her, he knew everything that went on in the household, the daily rhythms of their life, the way she struggled and adapted to her new normal without him. From the shadows, Bucky lurked unnoticed in the neighborhood, always keeping an eye on them. She never noticed, never had a clue that even when he was away on missions, he somehow knew when Benjamin caught a cold or when she had a rough day at work.

It was a secret vigil that gave him a twisted sense of comfort, knowing they were safe even if they no longer shared the same home. He would catch fleeting glimpses of her tucking their son into bed or hear his faint laughter playing in the yard. It was enough to remind him of what he’d lost, but not enough to bring him back to the life he believed he couldn’t have.

That was why Bucky was caught off guard when she mentioned her date with that guy, the music teacher. He never saw that coming. He had always known the man had a soft spot for her, could see it in the way he acted whenever she was around, how he lingered a little longer during pick-ups at the kindergarten, helping to manage the children even if it wasn’t his job, always with an excuse to retain her and talk. His body language was an open book. But back then, Bucky had dismissed him as harmless, barely giving him a second thought. To him, Chris had always been like a friendly Labrador: approachable, with no bite. A non-threat.

But now, that harmless Labrador had grown fangs. The guy wasn’t just hanging around the edges anymore; he was stepping in, taking her to dinner, moving into a space Bucky had once occupied. And he had no choice but to suck it up and watch it happen, watch her walk out the door with him. He could handle the distance, the brief moments of tension when they had to interact, but this? The idea of Chris sitting across from her at a candlelit table, making her laugh, holding her gaze... it twisted his guts.

And God knows what else would happen after dinner. Would Chris try to kiss her goodnight? Would she let him? Or worse, would they end up back at his place? His mind ran wild with the possibility of them taking things further, crossing a line he never wanted to imagine. Would she let him touch her in ways Bucky used to, let him see sides of her only he had known? He knew he had no right to feel this way, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from torturing him.

Eventually, he glanced at the clock and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. There was no point in torturing himself any further, he couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer.

Reaching the front porch, Bucky hesitated for a moment. He straightened his posture, adjusting his clothes, then knocked on the door. As he waited, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the tension.

When the door finally swung open, for a split second, neither of them spoke. Her eyes widened just a little, and her lips parted as she took him in. It had been a long time since she’d seen him. His hair had grown back to shoulder length, a few strands falling loose across his forehead. A three-day stubble sharpened his jawline in a way that made him look rugged and effortlessly handsome. And was he wearing that shirt? The red and black lumberjack one that used to drive her wild?

Bucky caught her reaction and hit him like a shot of adrenaline. When he exited the bathroom that night and picked what to wear, he told himself it was just practical attire, something comfortable to wear while watching and playing with Ben. The cologne? Just a habit. But deep down, a part of him knew the truth: he wanted her to notice, and that split-second when her eyes widened, scanning him from head to toe, told him everything. She noticed. She definitely noticed. And something about that felt like a victory, even though he wasn’t supposed to be playing that game anymore.

He stared at her longer than necessary, his blue gaze drifting over the black dress she wore. New, he realized. It hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore. The hemline? Too short for his liking. He clenched his jaw slightly, knowing full well Chris would be thrilled to see her like this.

Forcing himself to snap out of it, Bucky cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Hey,” he said, low and calm, though the tension still swirled beneath the surface. “You look... good.” He meant it, but the words tasted bitter.

"Thanks," she said, politely but distantly, deliberately choosing not to compliment him back. She lingered for a moment, then added, “You’re late.”

Bucky flinched inwardly at the remark, though he kept his expression neutral. "Traffic," he muttered, stepping inside as she moved aside to let him in. An awkward silence stretched between them, the air thick with things left unsaid.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her dress as she cleared her throat, trying to fill the silence. “Ben is in the bathroom,” she said casually, but there was a tension beneath it. “You can wait for him in the living room.”

“Right,” Bucky replied, nodding stiffly. He walked past her and into the living room, and the space felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. He took a seat, trying to shake off the strange energy between them, but his mind kept wandering back to the fact that she was dressed for someone else.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and she turned toward the sound, visibly relieved. She opened the door, and Bucky heard Chris’s voice, a cheerful greeting that she surely responded to with a soft, warm smile. He didn’t need to see it, her tone was different with him, softer, more open.

“Hey,” Chris said with a bright tone, though there was a subtle shift when he paused. There was a beat of silence before he added, “You look amazing.”

Bucky couldn’t help it. Something pulled him from the couch, and before he knew it, he was standing in the hall, watching the interaction from a few feet away. His eyes narrowed as he observed Chris, sizing him up instinctively. Chris was taller than he remembered, clean-cut in a casual but neat button-down shirt, his charming smile faltering just a fraction when his eyes darted past her, catching sight of Bucky standing there.

Chris’s brows furrowed, but he quickly masked his reaction, giving Bucky a curt nod. “Uh, hey,” he greeted awkwardly, glancing between them.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him. Bucky stood at the edge of the hallway, staring directly at Chris with an unreadable expression. His eyes locked onto the man without blinking. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t saying anything, just staring.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. Really? A display of male dominance, here and now? After everything he’d put her through, the mess he’d made of their lives, he suddenly decided he had the right to act territorial? What exactly did he think he was entitled to? The nerve of it sent a wave of irritation through her body, hardening her grip on her coat.

But what frustrated her even more -what really troubled her- was that a part of her didn’t mind. Beneath her annoyance, something stirred, deep and undeniable. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but his presence still had a hold on her. Maybe it didn’t bother her as much as she wanted to believe. Maybe, despite everything, there was still a part of her that reacted to him, to the way he watched her, the way he used to make her feel like the center of his world.

Before those feelings could rise any further, before she could let herself dwell on what they meant, she quickly turned back to Chris. She forced a bright smile, pushing away the conflicted thoughts swirling in her mind.

“We should get going,” she said, pretending not to notice the tension still hanging in the air. She stepped closer to Chris, signaling it was time to leave, hoping to put some distance between her and the weight of Bucky’s gaze.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Bucky stood frozen in place for a moment, still tense, even with their absence. The quiet of the house felt heavier now, oppressive. His chest clenched as he stared at the closed door, half-expecting her to walk back in. Of course, she didn’t.

His hands closed into fists at his sides as he replayed the scene in his head: her standing there, beautiful and confident, and Chris… that guy was so normal, so easygoing. Exactly what she deserved. Exactly what Bucky could never be. He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. What was he even doing? He had no right, he was the one who walked away. He was the one who made her believe she wasn’t enough to keep him, that he wanted out. And now, here he was, silently raging because she was moving on, exactly like he supposedly wanted.

Stupid. That was the only word he could come up with to describe how he felt. Stupid for showing up looking the way he did, stupid for thinking that maybe he could still affect her. But what for? His job was to protect her and their son from the shadows, not to stand in the doorway, playing the part of some jealous lover. But God, it hurt more than he expected.

He crossed the living room with heavy steps and slumped into the couch. The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of the TV in the background. Ben was still in the bathroom, probably playing with the liquid soap and making a mess, unaware of the tangled web of emotions his father was caught in.

The hours slipped by, though Bucky barely noticed at first. Benjamin was beyond excited to have his dad all to himself for the evening. They played, joked, and built elaborate lego fortresses, the boy’s laughter filling the house with a warmth Bucky hadn’t realized he missed so much. For a little while, he was able to shove everything else to the back of his mind. Being a dad, just a dad, felt like a relief. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to the clock on the wall. He couldn’t help it. As much as he tried to stay in the moment with his son, there was a constant pull, a nagging thought of where she was.

After he’d put Ben to bed, Bucky’s mind wandered back to the date. Her image in that black dress haunted him, the way Chris had looked at her, the possibility of what might have happened after dinner. His thoughts spiraled, even though he knew it was none of his business anymore. He poured himself a scotch, the amber liquid swirling in his glass as he tried -and failed- to push the thoughts aside.

Eventually, the sound of the front door opening cut through the silence. The familiar click of her shoes against the entryway tile echoed through the house, sharp and distinct. She was home.

Bucky didn’t move. He stayed where he was, seated at the old teakwood table, nursing his scotch. The only light on in the house was the dim glow above the kitchen, so she’d find him.

The sound of her footsteps grew closer, and he listened intently, his heart beating just a little faster despite his best efforts to keep calm.

She entered the kitchen, her steps sounding a little less steady than usual, mumbling a soft “Hi” as she made her way inside. Bucky glanced up, immediately sensing that she was a little tipsy. She didn’t meet his eyes, just plopped down in the chair next to him with a tired sigh. “God, my feet are killing me,” she muttered, kicking off her heels and wincing.

For a while, the silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of the fridge. She sighed absentmindedly, then reached for his glass of scotch, taking a sip without asking. He was taken aback by the casual intimacy of the gesture, but he said nothing, just watched her as she leaned back in her chair.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “Want me to rub your feet?” He froze. He couldn’t believe he’d said it, half-expecting her to snap at him or give him one of her sharp retorts.

But instead, she surprised him. She looked over at him, her eyes tired but soft, and then shrugged. “Yeah...” she said, a little more relaxed than he expected.

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by her response. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he moved toward her, kneeling down in front of her chair. His fingers hovered hesitantly over her ankle before wrapping gently around it, lifting her foot onto his knee.

As he began to knead his thumbs into her sore muscles, the tension that had been brewing in him all night seemed to ease, just a little. Her head lolled back against the chair, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, touching her again in this way, after everything. He shouldn’t, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to relax more as the seconds passed, letting her guard down in a way that felt dangerously familiar.

“So... how was the date?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost too casual as he broke the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open at the question, and for a moment, he thought she might brush him off or remind him that it wasn’t his business. But instead, she gave a small shrug, her tone indifferent. “It was fine.”

Bucky frowned slightly, pressing his thumbs a little harder into the arch of her foot. He wasn’t sure if it was frustration or something else pushing his hands. “Fine?” he echoed, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yeah,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Her voice was soft, almost distracted. “Just... fine.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that. He couldn’t help himself, he pressed, his tone still light but with a thread of tension beneath it. “Only... fine?”

She sighed, her eyes still closed as if trying to keep the conversation from getting deeper. “What do you want me to say, Bucky?” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but there was a subtle edge in her words. “That it was amazing? That he swept me off my feet? Some dirty little details?”

His fingers stilled for a moment, resting against her foot as he met her gaze. He didn’t respond right away, unsure if he even wanted to hear the truth, whatever it might be. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice a little more vulnerable than he intended.

“It was just fine, nothing more, nothing less”

Silence stretched between them again, but he wasn’t ready to let it drop. “Are you going to see each other again outside work?” he ventured, slowly moving his hands up her shin, hesitantly but growing bolder. The fact that she didn’t push him away emboldened him further. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

His hands continued their slow ascent, brushing his fingers over her calf and then her knee, firm but careful. When she didn’t pull away, he felt his pulse quicken. The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of things left unsaid.

“In a way,” she finally answered, her voice was elusive, a little distant. She shifted slightly in her chair, subtly parting her thighs as his hands wandered higher. The movement was small, but enough for him to catch it. His breath hitched, and his gaze flicked down to her legs before rising back up to her face, darkening with lust.

"Care to... elaborate?" he pressed again, his voice lower now, rougher. His fingers slid up to her inner thigh, stopping there with a possessive grip as if testing her reaction. Her legs instinctively spread wider beneath his touch, and that simple motion sent a rush of heat through his body.

She shifted slightly, as if searching for the right words. "He’s... nice," she finally said, a bit breathless under his touch. "He’s thoughtful, considerate, makes me laugh…” Her lips twitched in a small smile, but it quickly faded as she looked down at his hand resting on her thigh. “He’s... good.”

Bucky’s thumb paused, pressing a little harder, as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “…And?”

She sighed, opening her eyes again to meet his intense gaze. “And… he’s not you.”

His grip on her thigh tightened involuntarily. He’d pushed her away, done everything he could to sever the ties between them, convinced himself it was for her protection. But now, hearing her admit that, it sent his head spinning.

He’s not you.

The room seemed smaller, the air heavier, as the tension between them crackled like electricity. His hand inched higher, dangerously close to where he could feel the heat radiating off her body. Every instinct in him screamed to close the distance, to take what he wanted, to forget everything that had led them to this point. But he forced himself to stop, locking his gaze onto hers, searching her face for any sign that she would tell him to stop.

She didn’t. Instead, she held his gaze, breathing shallow as if waiting to see what he would do next.

Bucky’s grip closed again. Fuck it. He leaned forward, pressing his face against her other inner thigh, grazing her skin with his stubble as he inhaled her scent deeply. She tensed, feeling him nip gently at her sensitive flesh, and then a slow, deliberate lick followed, sending a shiver through her body.

"Did he behave, or..." he paused, teasing the same spot with his tongue before he looked up at her, brushing her thigh with his lips as he continued, "...things got handsy?"

A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his mouth so dangerously close to where she wanted it most. Her head tilted back just slightly, her body betraying her as desire pooled lower in her belly. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers, their blue depths darkened with lust, and something more. His lips remained pressed against her skin, refusing to budge until he had his answer.

"You let him touch you?" His voice was a husky whisper, laced with jealousy.

She exhaled slowly, her breath was shaky as the memory flickered through her mind. "Yes," she admitted, reluctantly. "But just briefly, when we ki-"

Before she could finish, Bucky’s hand shifted, moving up to cup her mound, pressing his fingers firmly against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her words died in her throat, and a sharp intake of breath replaced them as his touch ignited a fire that spread through her veins. His hand was deliberate and unapologetic in the way it claimed her, the heel of his palm pressing against her pussy as if he had every right to be there.

"And then?" His question hung in the air, but she couldn’t find the words immediately.

Her lips parted as she finally spoke, barely above a whisper. "I wanted to feel something... but I didn’t. I just didn’t."

Bucky’s hand remained where it was, but his thumb stroked over the wet fabric, teasing her, testing her resolve as his gaze bore into hers. She had said what he needed to hear, what he craved to know, and now, there was no turning back.

His thumb slid the fabric of her underwear aside, and his fingers didn’t hesitate as they slipped between her folds, finding her slick with need. He brushed upward, just barely grazing her clit, watching with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as she gasped at the contact. Her body arched involuntarily, but he didn’t relent, keeping his movements slow and deliberate, teasing her just enough to drive her crazy but not enough to give her what she craved.

“And…” he murmured, rasping against the tension rising between them, “how long did it take you to realize you’d had enough? That it wasn’t going to work?”

His thumb circled lazily, making her hips shift forward, chasing the friction he barely offered. The question hung in the air, laced with his possessiveness through every word. He didn’t wait for an answer, delving his fingers deeper inside her, coating themselves in her arousal before they moving back up, brushing over her clit again, this time with more pressure.

"One kiss?" His lips curled in a half-smirk as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He dipped his fingers inside her again, slowly, dragging them out just as leisurely. "Two?"

She trembled, unable to form a coherent response, the sensation of his touch overwhelmed her senses after so long. Her breath hitched as his fingers increased their pace, every stroke purposeful, designed to unravel her. Bucky leaned upward, brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “How long, doll?” The way he said it, like a dare, made her heart race even faster.

Her head fell back, and her body betrayed any attempt at control as she whispered breathlessly, “One…”

A satisfied groan escaped his throat, and his fingers rewarded her honesty with a firmer stroke, sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

It wasn’t fair. He had cast her aside, almost without looking back, tearing her world apart with his cold departure. And now here she was, grinding her pussy against his fingers like some desperate, needy whore, begging for more. A part of her wanted to slap him, to shove him away and scream at him for every sleepless night she spent wondering why she wasn’t enough, why he had thrown their life away so easily. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him for walking out on them.

But then, there was that traitorous side of her. The part that had never stopped hoping. The part that had always waited held out some foolish, silent hope that he’d come back. That she’d see that flicker of warmth in his eyes again, the one that told her she was his entire world. And it wasn’t just her heart that longed for him, her body had missed him, too. She hated herself for it. For still thinking about him late at night when she touched herself, slipping her fingers between her thighs as his name slipped from her lips in the darkness.

And that same traitorous side of her had ruined her date with Chris. She’d tried to be present, to laugh, to be charmed by his warm smile and thoughtful gestures. But all night, all she could think about was Bucky.

The way he’d looked at him, cold and assessing, as if he didn’t belong there, his presence filling the hallway like he still had some claim to it, to her. What was he trying to prove, anyway? That he still was the man of the house?

She hated how, even while Chris was talking, her mind drifted back to Bucky’s fingers tracing his stupid shirt, his stupid long locks, his stupid cologne, the one he used when they went out on little dates. And she knew, even if she couldn’t admit it aloud, that some part of her had wanted him to see her dressed up, to feel in some small way the longing and ache she’d carried in his absence.

And maybe that’s why she’d felt nothing when Chris had leaned in for a kiss, why his gentle smile and soft touches had felt hollow. Even his laugh, light and kind, didn’t make her feel anything because it wasn't Bucky’s rough, rumbling chuckle or his stupidly confident grin. Bucky, in all his infuriating ways, still occupied every corner of her mind.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her chest rose and fell rapidly as his fingers worked her closer to the edge. She wanted to be angry, to let that rage consume her, but every time she opened her mouth to say something hurtful, to lash out at him, her body betrayed her. Every roll of her hips against his hand, every needy whimper that slipped from her throat, reminded her of just how much she had missed this.

It wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t stop.

With a light pinch on her swollen clit, the tension snapped, and she came hard on his fingers. Her mouth fell open with a moan as her body convulsed, riding the wave of pleasure pulsing through her body. The world blurred around her as her climax took over her body, grinding her hips against his hand, chasing every last second of the release.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, with a mix of overwhelming pleasure and the emotional storm swirling inside her. A few finally escaped, rolling silently down her cheeks, but before she could turn away, Bucky was there, brushing his lips on her skin to wipe them away with surprising tenderness. His breath ghosted over her cheeks as he whispered soft, comforting words she could barely make out, something about how beautiful she was, how good she had been for him, as if they hadn’t been tangled up in all this pain and heartache.

His touch was almost reverent as he slowly withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening. Their gazes met, and he didn’t break eye contact as he brought those same fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate, agonizing slowness. He stood up in one fluid motion, lifting her effortlessly from the chair by the waist as if she weighed nothing, and in a swift, controlled movement, he placed her on top of the table, standing between her legs.

Before she could even process it, his arms were around her, pulling her into a bear hug that was both tight and needy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply against her skin.

He held her as if letting go was not an option, firmly yet strangely vulnerable. The way he clung to her body felt like both a claim and an apology, urgent -almost broken- like he was holding onto her not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave,” he murmured against her skin, his voice rough and low, against her neck. He didn’t dare to look at her, not yet, because if he did, if he saw doubt or rejection in her eyes, it would break him.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Each second felt like an eternity. His breath was uneven and ragged as he waited for her to say anything. Another moment passed, tension swirled in his chest until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He lifted his head, searching her gaze, bracing himself for the worst. But instead of the words that would send him away, he saw her eyes flicker downward to his lips. It was brief, a split-second decision, but it was enough.

So he leaned in, cautiously at first, like he was testing the waters after years of distance. His lips brushed softly against hers, almost hesitantly, as if afraid this fragile moment would break apart. But the second she responded, it was like a dam broke. His hands cradled her face, deepening the kiss with desperation. It was messy and all-consuming. There was no gentleness, no tenderness. This was not the careful, delicate dance of two people testing the waters. This was hunger, a need to reclaim what had been lost. His lips moved down to her jaw, her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses on her skin, and she moaned softly, threading her fingers in his hair as he sucked on the sensitive spot below her ear.

His hands gripped her waist, strong and possessive, pulling her closer until her body was flush against his. The need to feel her body, to claim her, was overwhelming. It was like two years of silence, longing, and frustration had ignited in an instant, and everything that had been pushed down now surged forward, unstoppable.

“I’ll ask you again, babydoll. Are you sure you want this?” Bucky’s voice was thick with restraint, the tension in his muscles barely contained as he loomed over her, his breath hot against her neck. He was giving her one last chance to stop this, to pull away, even though every fiber of his body was screaming for her. But instead of words, her answer was a quiet, deliberate motion. Her hand slid between them, deftly unbuttoning his jeans, brushing her fingers against the outline of his erection.

A low hiss escaped his lips, and his hand shot down to catch her wrist, halting her movements. His gaze met hers, dark and intense, his chest heaving with barely restrained desire. “I need you to say it,” he murmured, on the edge of control.

“Yes,” she murmured.

That was all he needed.

Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt over his head in one motion, not bothering with the buttons, his muscles flexing as the fabric slid off. The moment his skin was free, he didn’t give himself time to think. His eyes locked on hers as he grabbed the neckline of her dress. With a sharp tug, the fabric tore easily under his grip, and the sound of it ripping filled the air. The dress fell to her waist, exposing her bare breasts to his gaze.

“Hey! It was brand new, you know?” she protested.

“I noticed,” he replied, grazing his fingers on the tattered edge of her dress. “But you didn’t buy it to wear it for me, did you?” His voice dropped, thick with jealousy as he alluded to her date with Chris. He dipped his head, and his lips hovered just above her exposed skin. “I don’t want it on you”. He latched his lips onto her nipple, swirling his tongue with a hungry need, while his vibranium fingers pinched and teased her other breast. His breath was hot against her chest as he whispered between kisses, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this... missed you.” His words came out rough, full of longing that he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Every night... thinking about touching you again. Tasting you. Making you come over my cock.”

Her body responded, arching into him. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan, afraid that maybe Ben could hear her, but it slipped out anyway.

His hands moved to her thighs, gripping them firmly as he let out a low groan. “I thought about this, over and over... how you’d feel under me, how you’d sound when I made you scream my name again.” His voice was thick, hoarse, as he tugged at her dress, tearing the fabric completely until it was nothing but rags on the floor. He didn’t stop there, slipping his thumbs under the waistband of her flimsy panties. With a swift tug, the seams gave way, tearing effortlessly in his hands. He brought the soaked cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply, groaning as if the scent alone was enough to drive him insane. “God, I’ve missed this,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. He flicked his tongue against the ruined cloth, savoring the taste with a low, hungry growl.

Without warning, he tossed the panties aside. His hands moved quickly, unbuttoning what remained of his jeans and kicking off his shoes before sliding the denim and underwear down in one fluid motion. They hit the floor with a soft thud as he stepped toward her. “Tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded softly.

She stared at him, drinking him in. He looked leaner, his body sculpted in sharp lines of muscle. He’d lost weight, surely by going on mission after mission, mixed with his poor eating habits. He was never good at taking care of himself. She almost missed the small paunch he used to have these last years, the one he hated, but she’d loved to bite. There was something comforting about that softness, but now he was the embodiment of raw strength.

Her gaze drifted lower, lingering on the sight of his cock, standing at full attention. She swallowed. Apparently, her memories failed to measure up to reality. He was big, sure, she’d always known that, but this big? Her pussy tightened with need, clenching in raw anticipation.

"I missed you,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, laced with longing as her eyes lifted to meet his. “So much… you have no idea. God, you’ve ruined me.”

Her words shattered whatever restraint he had left. He’d imagined, countless times, that if this moment ever came, he’d take his time, savor her, and make it last. But now, faced with her body beneath him, so close and so ready, patience was a luxury he no longer possessed.

Without a second thought, he gripped her thighs and spread her wide on the table, lining himself up as he dragged the head of his cock along her entrance, coating himself in her slick heat. In a swift, desperate thrust, he drove into her, hard and deep, filling her completely as a ragged groan escaped his lips.

She cried out, her body responding immediately, arching into him as he slammed into her again. His hands gripped her hips with bruising force, and his own moved in a relentless rhythm, every thrust driving him deeper inside her. He couldn’t stop. Her moans spurred him on, her words circling in his head like a drug.

“Ruined you, huh?” His breath was ragged as he pulled almost all the way out, teasing her with the loss, before slamming back in. “Let me remind you how much.” With a raw hunger that had been bottled up far too long, Bucky's thrusts became brutal, each one driving her back along the table, her nails scraping against the wood as he took her over and over. The grip on her hips was iron-hard, pinning her down so she could do nothing but take everything he gave her. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “Think anyone else could ever do this?” he murmured, his voice dark and rough, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. His lips ghosted along her jaw, and he pushed her to answer, knowing the effect he was having on her. “Tell me,” he demanded softly, “Could anyone else make you feel like this?” He wanted her to say it, to make her admit that no one else would ever satisfy her the way he could.

She whimpered, clutching at his shoulders as he pounded into her, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed her higher and higher. “No… no one else.” Her words were broken, barely audible over her moans, but it was all he needed to hear.

“That’s right” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough, “No one else gets to touch you like this,” he breathed, each word laced with raw possessiveness as he thrust deeper. “Only me,” he rasped. “Only I get to make you feel this way.”

He groaned, and his left hand left her hip to slide between them, pressing down on her clit in quick, merciless circles. “This is mine,” he hissed, metal fingers working just enough to bring her close before pulling away, only to return just as she thought she couldn’t take any more.

She cried out, her body writhing beneath him as he drove her to the edge. His pace never faltered, his hips grinding against hers with a relentless rhythm, and his grip on her body only hardened as she arched off the table, spilling his name from her lips like a prayer.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice thick with lust and something darker. His hands slid down the back of her thighs, pushing her legs up against her torso as he plunged deeper, and she could barely breathe every time he bottomed out. The way he hit her, the pressure at her cervix, sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain coursing through her body, each one making her mewl helplessly. Her thighs shook against his chest, her hands desperately clutching at his forearms, fingers digging into his skin.

He leaned in closer again, his face inches from hers, his lips brushing her ears as he growled, “Say it, Doll. Tell me you’re mine.”

"I’m yours… fuck, Bucky!" she complied, her voice breaking between her panting breaths.

"Again," he ordered, slamming his hips into hers, as the table creaked under the force of his movements. He could feel her walls clenching around him, so tight, so wet, he almost lost control then and there.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered again, her voice shaky, breathless.

“Chris will be so disappointed to hear that,” he growled. “Let’s make sure you stay ruined, just in case.” He was relentless now, fucking her hard, deep, his body pressing hers further into the table as he pushed her thighs harder against her body giving him even better access, hitting that sensitive spot that left her gasping, his grip and the relentless pace leaving no room for anything but the sensation of him filling her over and over.

She whimpered in response, too overwhelmed to speak, her entire body tensing as the pleasure became almost unbearable. His thumb moved between them again,  rubbing circles that sent sparks of heat shooting through her body. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as her orgasm built rapidly.

“Milk my cock, sugar,” he ordered harshly, primal. His words pushed her over the edge, and then she was gone, her body shivering violently as she clenched around him, tightening her thighs around him as her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer. The sound of his name fell from her lips, half-whisper, half-cry as the climax gripped her, intense and all-consuming, leaving her a trembling, breathless mess.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled through gritted teeth, his hips snapping into hers with bruising force. “And then some more,” he rasped, his voice thick with raw need. “You won’t even be able to keep it all in, babydoll.”

With a final thrust, Bucky’s head fell back, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he reached his climax. His body trembled, and his muscles tensed as he spilled inside her, a heated wave of release that filled her completely. He held her there, as his cock kept pulsing until his release overflowed, warm and thick, beginning to trickle down, pooling beneath them.

Still buried inside her, Bucky loosened his grip on her thighs, sliding down his hands to cradle her waist as he leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against her shoulder. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent, calming himself as the heat of what they did slowly ebbed, replaced by a quiet neither of them seemed prepared for.

After a moment, he gently eased himself away, untangling their bodies but letting his hands linger at her hips, as though afraid to lose the connection. He took a step back, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting to meet hers, hoping she’d break the silence, but she didn’t look at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Bucky’s chest clenched, a familiar pang surfacing in him as he watched her withdraw inward, her mind going elsewhere despite what they’d just shared. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, tentative. “So… what now, Bucky?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I don’t- I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he forced himself to hold her gaze. “I know I shouldn’t have done this. Not after…” He hesitated, but the truth slipped out anyway. “Not after what I put you through.”

Her eyes narrowed, and suspicion clouded her expression, old wounds resurfacing. “Then why did you put me through this, Bucky?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with pain. “You said you couldn’t do this. That you needed space, that we were holding you back.” Her words floated between them, each one a quiet accusation tinged with vulnerability. “And now, you’re here, acting like…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…acting like you never left.”

He hesitated, knowing this was his chance to finally tell her the truth or let her keep believing the lie he’d used to protect them. He rubbed a hand over his face, then lowered it, meeting her gaze with raw honesty. “I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I left because I was afraid that my past... everything I tried to bury might come back to hurt you. Hurt him.” His voice softened. “I thought if you believed I didn’t want this life, it would keep you safe.”

He glanced down, his hand twitching at his side, before he looked up again. "But… I want to come back,” he admitted, the words raw, like they’d been buried deep for too long. “To the house. To you, and Benjamin.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, flicking her gaze over their scattered clothes still strewn across the kitchen floor. She looked away, tensing as she rubbed her temples. "So, what’s changed, Bucky? The risks are still there, the same threats, the same fears..."

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver; his hand reached out as though to touch her, but he stopped short, brushing his fingers over the edge of the table instead. "What’s different is me. I’ve had time to face what I couldn’t before. Stepping aside didn’t keep you safer; it just kept me away. I don’t want Ben growing up with a dad who keeps him and his mom at arm’s length. Almost a stranger.” His voice softened. “Being apart from you doesn’t make things better. I miss you, doll. I miss us.”

“You can’t just leave and come back like nothing happened, Bucky.” Her voice was softer this time, almost breaking. “I wanted you here… every day, every night. Not just for me, but for Benjamin.”

He took a step closer, hovering his hand near hers, unsure if she’d pull away. “I know, and I hate that I ever thought leaving was the answer.” His tone was low, his gaze fixed on her.

She looked down. “If you come back, I need to know you’re here to stay,” she murmured, the words more for herself than for him. “Because I don’t think I can go through this again… and I won’t let him either.” Her voice cracked on the last word as her hands gripped the table harder.

Those words shattered the last remnants of his restraint. Without another thought, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of her, the hard tile digging into his flesh as he pressed his forehead against her thigh. She sucked in a breath, instinctively moving her hand toward his hair, and her fingers trembled as they brushed against it. He could feel her hesitation, the walls she’d built so carefully to guard herself from the ache he’d left behind.

“Say yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Say yes, doll. I know I don’t deserve it.” His hands gripped her hips as if she were the only thing keeping him steady. “But I swear,” His voice cracked, raw and pleading. “I swear, I’ll never walk away again. Not from you, not from Benjamin.”

She looked down, a mix of shock and pain written on her face as she saw him there, broken, open, begging her for something she’d once offered so freely. Her hand gently settled on his cheek, and he leaned into the warmth of her touch, feeling the softness of her fingers against the rough stubble of his jaw. The ache in her eyes nearly undid him, but he stayed there, with his forehead still pressed to her thigh, his breath heavy, waiting.

Her eyes searched his, and slowly, her resolve began to waver, the smallest flicker of trust finding its way back into her gaze. "Then prove it," she murmured, barely trusting herself as her hand lingered against his cheek. "Show me you’re here to stay."

After her words hung in the air, a fragile silence fell between them, and Bucky’s gaze dropped. He swallowed, and his hand reached for something inside the scattered clothes on the floor.

From his back pocket, he drew out a small, well-worn leather charm, a little star-shaped pendant, its edges smoothened from years of handling. She recognized it immediately. It was something she’d passed on to him when he left for his first mission after they married, a symbol she hoped would keep him safe. She thought it had been lost long ago, like so many pieces of them.

He held it out to her, and the look on his face was raw, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen since the early days. “I never stopped carrying this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick. “Even when I tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing by staying away. I couldn’t let go of you…of us. I kept it close, hoping… hoping someday I could come back and give it back to you. I know it doesn’t make up for the time I lost, but…” His voice faltered.

She stared at the pendant, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out, grazing the familiar leather. All the memories it held, the late-night goodbyes, the whispered promises, the hope she’d once tied to it, all of it rushed back, filling the space between them.

She looked down at him, seeing in his eyes the weight of the years, the regrets, but also the glimmer of the man she’d fallen in love with.

Taking a shaky breath, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “This… this was supposed to keep you safe, Bucky. Keep us safe.”

“And it did,” he replied softly, covering her hand over the charm with his. “It kept you here.” He paused, his voice barely a murmur. “And maybe now… it can bring me back home.”

The last of her defenses wavered, and she felt herself letting go of the anger, the hurt, all the pieces that had kept them apart. “Maybe… maybe it was always meant to guide you back here,” she said softly, meeting his eyes with a warmth he hadn’t seen in years. “So if you’re really here to stay… then welcome home, Bucky.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[jadedwrestleverse]

[  TWENTY-THREE  ] :  “ i didn’t ask for this… to feel this way. ” //Jey to Sierra!

Sierra's heart was a tumultuous sea of emotions. She had never expected to fall for Josh, but every moment she spends with him makes her fall more and more. No words could come to mind as she stared into his eyes. Her breath hitching as she tilted her head slightly. Slowly, she started to lean in to close the gap between her and the Samoan. Their lips were just about to meet when a sudden interruption shattered the spell. Sierra's loyal dog, Rocky, bounded onto the balcony, barking excitedly as if sensing the tension in the air. He wagged his tail, completely oblivious to the almost-kiss that had been so close to happening. The Georgian looked at the small dog as he happily barked at them. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Also, she was amused by her dog’s excitement. “I’m sorry, Rocky normally doesn’t do that,” Sierra apologized as she looked at Josh. She gently bit down on her lip, “I swear, he has some hell of a timing'. ” She shook her head as she facepalmed herself.

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t

masterlist | tip for the author?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

request: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 2.7k

chapter warnings: a lot of exposition, but trust me

chapter notes: first time writing a hybrid, let me know how i did, this will be multi-chaptered

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

When your friend had suggested you get a pet, this is not what you imagined. 

A cat or dog perhaps, even a fish would've made more sense, this whole thing started with you coming into the shelter asking for just that.

You’d asked about their cats or even their smaller dogs, but they’d all either been adopted or were reserved by potential owners.

“Have you considered a hybrid?” Those five words, and your inquisitive “A hybrid?” Is what landed you in this situation.

The lady excitedly lead you through a few different doors until you were in a room that overlooked a large spacious area.

“There’s so many of them,” you muttered to yourself, but it was clearly loud enough for her to hear you.

“Not many people want a hybrid, they prefer a traditional cat or dog,” her tone was melancholic, and a pang of guilt hit your chest. That was exactly what you’d done.

“Chances are the majority of these guys will spend their whole lives here,” she sighed sadly.

A high pitched yelp interrupted her train of thought as she perked up to see who the culprit was. It seemed to be a pink haired girl, her matching feline ears were pressed back against her head whilst another hybrid had their hand raised into a fist.

“Jinx no!” Your guide leaned over the small balcony to scold her. All the hybrid’s snapped their attention to where her voice was, but the blue-eared one slowly lowered her fist and skulked off to another corner; content that the conflict was over the rest of the room relaxed and continued what they were doing previously.

However, one pair of eyes remained on the balcony.

You couldn’t place it at first, but then you spotted him. His eyes were so piercing that you quickly avoided eye contact.

“Who’s the one on their own?” You asked quietly as if he could hear you. The vet leaned into you and the excitement was radiating off of her.

“That’s Jayce, our chocolate Labrador hybrid,” she paused for you to ask questions, but continued quickly anyway.

“He’s been with us for about 3 months, he was completely feral when we found him. He’d been abandoned by his previous owner when he was a puppy and was surviving on his own for so long,” her voice lost its usual joyful lint the more she spoke.

“When he arrived he was practically uncontrollable, we thought we’d have to separate him from the others entirely,” she paused as she realised her voice was getting louder, “But he bonded well with one of our felines, Viktor his name was, but he was adopted quite quickly-“.

The entire time she was talking your eyes kept darting back to who she was talking about.

He was sat in a chair with with his leg on his knee, away from everyone else, his annoyed gaze continuously on the balcony as if he knew he was being spoken about.

“-We encouraged them to adopt the two of them as a pair, but they didn’t want a canine, so he stayed with us. Unfortunately, some of his feral habits returned but he mostly keeps to himself now,” she finally finished her monologue.

You furrowed your eyebrows with empathy and glanced towards her, "He's lonely, like me," you commented and put your elbows on the railing to rest your chin on your palms, overlooking the space again.

His eyes were still on the two of you, you could feel it.

"Do you want to meet them?" the vet asked a little too swiftly.

The thought bounced around in your mind for a moment, contemplating if you should even entertain this idea; but as you looked around the room you felt your heart ache for them.

You sighed as a sign of conceding to the idea, "Yeah, why not?" you pushed yourself up off of the balcony and turned to the vet, waiting for her to start moving.

The smile on her face was one of relief and joy. It was clear that not many people were jumping at the opportunity to adopt a hybrid, let alone even entertain seeing them.

It didn't take long to get to the 'sanctuary' door - that's what she called the main communal area for them - she swiped her key card and the door beeped open.

For some reason your heartbeat increase slightly as you stepped over the threshold and into the room.

"Hello everyone!" she said in a slightly elevated voice, not loud enough to be shouting but loud enough for it to carry throughout the room. "We have guest today, she's very nice so don't worry," she warned them.

Although the atmosphere didn't feel hostile, it didn't feel welcoming either. The majority of them observed you from a distance.

There were so many questions you had, but you didn't know where to start.

"If we take a seat over here we can let them come to us," she lead you to a sofa in the middle of the room, but as you sat down she moved away to a cabinet to retrieve a big folder.

The time you were alone was minimal but a spike of anxiety went through you, some of the hybrids moved closer to observe you but never close enough to speak to any of them individually.

The vet returned and sat next to you on the sofa, placing the big folder onto the table, "We have all the information on the residents in here," she didn't open it but left it for you, if you felt inclined.

It didn't take long for the blue haired feline from before to bound over and sit next to the vet, "Hello sweetie," the vet said as the feline put her head on her shoulder and started playing with her hair.

"This is-" she started, but this time you interrupted, "Jinx?".

Both the vet and Jinx looked up at you when you spoke, "Yes! She's quite the troublemaker, especially with her sister Vi," she pointed at the pink-haired feline that was being bapped earlier.

"I see," you spoke slowly as you opened the folder to their joint page. 'Must be adopted together', it read in bold under their photos.

"As they're actually siblings, we can't have them separated, it wouldn't be healthy," she explained as she started to tighten one of Jinx's braids.

It reminded you of her story from before and you instinctively raised your head from the folder to where the Labrador hybrid was sitting before, he was still staring at you.

"What type of space are you working with?" you were thankful she was asking you questions, you felt completely out of your depth.

Your eyelids fluttered in surprise, he must be territorial, you thought.

"Just a one-bed apartment," you eventually answered. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the vet lean back to glace at Jayce and her lips curled into a smile again.

"Ah," the noise of disappointment, "That's not a lot of space for play, if you were to adopt it would need to be someone more relaxed,".

She leaned forward and started flipping through the folder, unclipping certain pages and laying them in front of you.

"Unfortunately, they're all a little rambunctious here, but these are who I'd recommend," she'd placed two folders on the table.

"Caitlyn', and 'Ekko", she said aloud even though their names were written down in front of you - Jinx stuck her tongue out and made a 'Bleh' noise when she said Caitlyn.

You spent some time reading their files, they seemed nice enough, two felines; but the whole time you were reading your mind kept drifting back to the one who's eyes you could feel in the side of your head.

"What about-" you started, pausing for a moment to reconsider if you actually wanted to suggest this, but before you could get the courage to complete the sentence the vet interjected with a surprised "Jayce?!".

You glanced up from the pages to ask her how she knew what you were going to say, when you realised there was a large figure basking you in his shadow.

Immediately, your heart started beating quickly again and a nervous rush went through you. "Oh, hello," your voice shook as you spoke.

Now that he was closer you could see that his eyes were a golden yellow, which complemented his chocolatey brown hair pretty well. His nose twitched as if he was also rethinking his approach, or he was catching your scent.

"Jayce, this is..." the vet started the introduction and waited for you to say your name out loud for him, which you did.

His eyebrow raised slightly as he seemed to look you over; from your shoes to the top of your head.

Before, it felt like you couldn't make eye contact with him, but now you were struggling to look away. There was a sadness in his eyes that you recognised all too well, he was lonely too.

Unsure of how to manage the situation, you stuck your hand out for him to shake. He studied your hand silently and without movement, you were starting to think you should put your hand down when he slowly took it.

His hands were large, much bigger than your own and very warm. Although he didn't move his hand, he held a gentle grip on yours and watched where they connected.

"Nice to meet you, Jayce," you tried to say as softly as possible and timidly shook his hand up and down. His brown ears twitched slightly at the mention of his name.

After a few long seconds he let go of your hand and with a quick exhale he walked away.

You blinked a few times and lowered your hand, "Did I do something wrong?" you asked the vet, she chuckled to herself "Not at all, I'm actually surprised he showed any interest at all, he normally never moves from his spot,".

"Oh," was all you could say.

After some time, the vet stood and gestured for you to do the same, leading you towards the exit, "We should leave them to it, we try not to overstimulate them with new people too often,".

Once you were out in the halls again, you asked "Why's his hair so long?". Whilst it wasn't an unmanageable length, it was certainly dishevelled and outgrown.

"He doesn't really let people near him, let alone people with scissors and a razor," she laughed, "Like I said, he still has some feral tendencies, nothing that we're concerned about but it does mean he's a bit scruffy sometimes." she explained.

You nodded slowly to show your understanding. Whilst you felt yourself being drawn towards Jayce, the more you heard about his behaviours the more you were thinking that you weren't cut out to have a hybrid.

"I don't think I’m capable of looking after someone like him," you confessed even though it physically hurt your chest to say.

The vet chuckled again, "When it comes to hybrids, they look after themselves. All you really need to do is feed them, give them a home and attention when they want it.".

She picked up the folder again and flipped through the files, "I know it might seem overwhelming, but we don't just let anyone adopt our hybrids, there's a vetting process to it," she said as she handed you another file.

"What about my apartment? It's only one bedroom, and he's quite..." you didn't know what word to settle on, "Large,".

She nodded at your concern, "Ordinarily, I'd say it was an issue, but for a canine like Jayce, he just needs companionship and intellectual stimulation.".

You took in her words, you were hoping she would agree and tell you that it wasn't possible, that it wasn't meant to be. Then you could let this go and move onto something less demanding.

"Take this home, have a read and see how you feel. If you're still interested we can set up another meeting," you took the file from her and held it close to your chest.

Over the next couple of days, that's exactly what you did.

You read the file over and over, it felt like every detail was engrained into your brain, along with those piercing yellow eyes that were so full of sadness.

He was like you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your reflection.

"Hello?" you spoke into you phone, the voice on the other end greeted you and asked you to verify your name, which you did.

"How can I help you today?" the receptionist was characteristically bubbly, "I'd like to set up a meeting, please?" you asked hesitantly.

The line was quiet, save for the tapping of her fingers on the keys, "Of course, is that for Jayce?" she eventually said and you felt a bolt of excitement charge through you.

"Yes, please," you confirmed. A few more details were exchanged and the meeting was set, "Perfect, we'll see you tomorrow at 1pm!".

The evening went by too quickly and too slowly at the same time.

Luckily, you worked from home so you were able to be fairly flexible with your availability, despite your morning being relatively unproductive.

Instead of doing your job, you'd spent the first three hours of your shift researching canine hybrids; their needs, requirements and any medical issues.

You'd only just started researching about feral hybrids before you realised the time, 12:30.

When you arrived he was sat in the same chair as before, but this time he wore a black tunic with the sleeves rolled up.

If not for the fluffy ears and tail, you'd think he was a business man or politician of some sort.

As you approached him - with the vet in tow - he stood.

It took you by surprise and your steps faltered. He blinked a few times and his eyebrows softened slightly for a second, before putting his hand out the same way you had a couple days prior.

A soft smile came across your lips as you tentatively took his hand and shook it, he’d copied your gesture to make you comfortable. His touch felt familiar, as if he was someone you’d known for years.

Despite the gentle nature he was showing you, his eyes still bore into you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat or not.

When he eventually let go of your hand, he sat down and his eyes looked between you and the chair opposite him. He wanted you to sit as well.

You glanced at the soft armchair behind you and side stepped until you were in front of it; before you lowered yourself down, you turned your head back to Jayce to check this is what he wanted.

When there was no change in his demeanour, you plonked yourself into the soft cushions less than gracefully, it was a lot lower and bouncier than you’d anticipated.

“He got this out when he heard you were coming today,” the vet said from behind you, honestly you’d forgotten he was there.

You’d somehow failed to notice that on the table in between the two of you was a chess set, set up and ready for a game.

“I’m sure you’ve already read his file, but Jayce here is very intelligent, he loves these types of games,” the man sounded so proud.

Meanwhile, Jayce stared at him with a displeased facial expression, like he was waiting for him to stop talking.

“I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be over here if you need me,” the man gave you a small wave as he moved to the other side of the room.

This was the first time you and Jayce were somewhat alone, there was a spark of excitement as well as nervousness.

You just hoped he liked you.

[thesweetestofdreams]

black cat confessions

poly!marauders x reader

warnings: patching up bruised knuckles very pg allusions to violence

a/n Times are tough so please enjoy a sleepy drabble with a slightly whimsical reader who will always defend her boyfriends

“Hello gorgeous, where’ve you been?” James asked as you came into the boys’ dorm. It wasn’t like you to be so late, unless of course a portrait got to talking. You could never turn down a good story, no matter how many times you heard it. 

“Detention,” you said. This garnered the attention of all three of your boyfriends. Remus set down his book, he had been trying to read instead of worrying about you, and Sirius ceased spinning his wand in his hand. James sat up from where he was laying on his bed. Oblivious to their shock you dropped your bag onto the floor.

“Detention?” James asked at the same time Sirius said “You’re joking.”

“Yeah,” you said, sounding almost as confused as they were. 

“May we ask why?” said Remus abandoning his book. 

“Well Barty said that black cats were bad luck, which is rather rude.” You fell onto Remus’s unmade bed, arms flopping on either side of you. 

“And how did that turn into detention for you?” Sirius asked as patient as could be, a trait reserved almost especially for you.

You rolled onto your stomach yawning as you rested your chin on your hand. “I told him that was hardly true but he wouldn’t give it up.” You were interrupted with another yawn. “Then he said the worst bad luck was black dogs. You could never be bad luck, Siri.”

Sirius could pretty much feel himself melting. James, as endearing as you were, was practically on the edge of his seat ready to find out what on earth their sweet girl could do to warrant detention. Remus was getting tired just looking at you and he had to fight the urge to join you where you lay.

“Well then he started talking about werewolves and of course he had nothing nice to say and he was looking right at me, so I punched him.” Just like before you were completely oblivious to the shock your statement caused. 

“You punched him?” Remus asked, and despite your tired eyes being closed you could hear the smile in his voice. The boys shared a conspiratorially prideful look. 

“He wasn’t mad. I think he thought it was funny.” 

“Sounds like he had it coming,” Sirius said, fully in agreement. 

“Professor Slughorn was mad though,” you mused.

“Merlin, what I would have given to see his face.” James laughed at just the thought. 

“I bet he went red head to toe,” Sirius added. You smiled in tired amusement. The sound of their laughs made your chest buzz, warm and full. 

“Punching people hurts,” you said looking down at your hand.

The energy of the room shifted as the amusement died down. Remus was already making his way to you, pulling your hand into his lap as he sat on the bed next to you. You didn’t fight him. He tsked at the sight of your knuckles and your fingers were dry and cracked. He turned them over in his hands ever so gently. 

“Slughorn made me wash all of the potion bottles,” you offered in explanation.

James wordlessly pulled a small first aid kit from Remus’s nightstand, while Sirius grabbed a set of pajamas they kept for you. Caring for eachother was a well practiced routine. It was an achingly good feeling to be taken care of. 

Remus spread dittany over your knuckles and any deep cracks, careful never to press too hard. James pulled off your shoes, and Sirius turned down the lights grumbling softly to himself when James reminded him of an early morning quidditch match. 

“You can sleep with me then,” Remus whispered loudly, teasing as he softly wrapped a bandage over your knuckles.

“Now this is just torturous,” Sirius groaned from his bed. James threw a pillow at him across the room. “I’m keeping this.” 

After some coaxing from Remus, you summoned enough willpower to stand and change into your pajamas. From across the room, you saw James dive into bed with Sirius who held the pillow above his head. James pinched at Sirius's waist earning a withering look from him that quickly dissolved into lazy smiling kisses. 

Finally you were lying in bed with your head on Remus’s chest. You could hear his heartbeat thump beneath you, the steady rhythm and warmth lulling you to sleep better than any lullaby. You weren’t helped by the slow circles he drew into your back. 

“Thanks for defending me, brave girl,” Remus said into your hair. 

Fighting a yawn you said, “you would have done the same for me.”

He would have done worse for you, and he would spend the rest of everyday grateful for the love he’s found.

[yanderefarm]

"HSSHSJDNDJDBBS i thought the yanderes were the cattle but it's actually y'all"

.....Prized bull reader x Nephite

can you tell i like hucows. can you tell. can you-.

i love this weird fucking idea of cow hybrids turning their partners into cows with cum.... i didn't include a lot of it but if you're curious about the ending that's what it is.

reader is like a big ole bull because ofc

cw;; nsft, omegaverse, heat, knotting mention, pregnancy mention, lactation, milking, animal characteristics (cough cough dicks), overstimulation, size kink, belly bulge, lots of cum, cum inflation, hucow, moo-ing

nephite loves tending to the animals on his family's farm! he loves taking care of the cute little chickens or feeding the pigs or bottle feeding the baby goats. but most of all he loves taking care of the cows. among all the regular animals the family had a small handful of hybrid cows. 4 female milking cows and 2 large bulls, with the best milk in the whole state. but they only produced their sweetest milk when they were milked without any stress, something the alphas on the farm couldn't provide. the smell of unfamiliar alphas would cause them to naturally become distressed and nervous, that's why there were the alpha bulls who protected the herd. one of the bulls was more friendly and sweet to the family than the other was and that was why nephite loved taking care of the cows so much.

he was skipping as he approached the barn.

"good mornin'" came the warm voice of the biggest bull, you. you were smiling and welcoming and you made his heart flutter.

"good morning! how did you sleep?" he brought one hand up to gently rub one of your ears, fingers scratching at the spot right behind it that you couldn't ever seem to get on your own.

"heard some animals last night but it was just a dog that got out." you leaned down into his touch to lessen the amount he had to reach.

"oh no... did everyone else stay calm?"

"of course. I'm here to protect everyone." you snorted proudly and nephite gave a little giggle.

"oh of course! you're the strongest alpha around. no doggies would ever mess with you!" he was just teasing you but you noticeably stiffened. he pulled his hand away instinctively and looked at you in concern.

"mhm... I'll protect everyone." you said it softer this time looking down at him with a fondness that made his heart thump.

nephite went to work as opposed to worrying about those pesky feelings that you gave him. though he probably should have paid attention. his hands were trembling as he hooked the machine to the 3rd cow who looked at him concerned.

"is everything ok, dear?"

"ah- oh... I'm sorry... did I hurt you?"

"not at all, sugar. but you're shaking like a leaf."

"its just really... hot? isn't it?"

she blinked at him before her eyebrows furrowed as she gave him a look like a concerned mother. she gestured something to one of the other cows before she turned back to him.

"oh darlin' how long have you been feeling hot?"

"i was feeling fine this morning! well... it was pretty hot yesterday and my stomach felt weird but I'm ok."

"when did you start feeling hot today."

"ah- after i saw mr.(y/n)."

just as he said that you came walking over with one of the other cows, the other bull who usually just sat in the corner got up and headed towards the door of the barn. nephite felt a sense of dread as you two surrounded him but he couldn't bring himself to move at all, the feeling in his stomach was forcing him to sit still. you gave him a pitying look before you sat down next to him. the other cow moved in to take his place preparing the milking machine.

"oh! no its ok-" nephite was interrupted by your large hand gently grabbing his face.

"you poor thing... let me take care of you." your warm words went straight to his head and his cheeks erupted into a deep blush.

"we can finish all your work here, puddin'. just get some love." the other cow said waving him off with a smile.

"wh-what does that-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you easily lifted him like he was nothing.

nephite was too hot and dizzy to argue, resigning himself to being carried wherever you wanted. his face rubbed against your chest as he let out soft little moans. he didn't even notice you brought him to your stall, too absorbed in your scent to form some coherence. you gently set him down on your bed, a pile of hay covered in some thick blankets with another heated blanket as your comforter. he let out a soft whine as he reached back for you. you felt bad for him, your sweet caretaker, he'd been working so hard not even realizing that his heat was coming strong. and now he was laying in your bed rubbing your blankets against his nose just to get more of your scent. you turned the heated blanket on for him before you left to grab something else.

nephite was too hot but not hot enough and this scent, the scent he knew was his alpha's wasn't strong enough. he didn't even think about it as he started pulling his dress off, then his turtleneck. he needed more of his alpha's scent, he needed to bathe in it. he wrapped your large heated blanket around his body, thankfully covering up his nudity.

you returned with some water, food, and lubricant, expecting to have to convince the farmer out of his clothes so you could help him. instead he was already making a makeshift nest out of your belongings. you brought a water bottle to his flushed forehead, earning a little squeak before he realized what was happening. he turned to you and threw himself into your arms.

"hi there, beautiful." you cooed as you pulled him up against your body. he was practically purring as he rubbed his face against your neck.

you stopped only for a moment to stare at his exposed neck, hands trailing down his warm and soft body. you found yourself giving his soft ass a firm squeeze before you could help yourself. the pretty little moan that left his lips didn't help with calming down but you steeled yourself. you gently set him back in the bed.

"pretty omega..." you ran your fingers through his long hair.

"alpha." his voice was so cute and sweet like a prayer.

"i know you're pretty dizzy right now... you wouldn't be lying here if you weren't but is there any chance you let me take care of you?"

nephite bat his eyelashes at you flirtily as his face spread into a big silly smile. he spread his legs open as an invitation for you. you couldn't resist the temptation any longer and your eyes traveled down his soft but slim body down to the curve of his thick hips and his squishy thighs that spread to expose a little patch of blue hair and an odd black metal object that wrapped around his body like underwear. you blinked at it for a minute before trying to hook your fingers into the metal and pry it off. it didn't move.

you wanted to ask what it was but nephite was too deep into his heat to answer any questions. he was much too busy pouting and whining because you weren't fucking him yet. you let out a heavy sigh and decided that whatever it was it could be replaced later you just had to get some bolt cutters. you leaned down and gave the omega a quick kiss before leaving him again.

when you returned this time nephite practically tackled you, he was covering you in kisses while he whined. you had to craddle him in your arms as you kissed him all over his cute face. he was less willing to lay back down this time as he whined not to leave him again. you shushed him with more kisses as you settled next to him, shifting his makeshift nest. you pulled one of his legs onto your hips and he tried in vain to roll his own hips against you. such a cute little thing.

you were gentle with the bolt cutters but you still left a greasy little bruise in his hip. you wiped off the black grease stain before giving it a little kiss to get better. of course the needy omega underneath of you whined and tried in vain to grind against you again. you took mercy on the sweet thing, hooking one of his legs onto your shoulders to give you access to his tight hole.

"you always take such good care of everyone, sugar. let me take such good care of you." you pressed one of your thick fingers to his tight entrance.

nephite's head rolled back and he let out a loud sinful moan throughout the barn. even with his hole absolutely soaked in slick it was such a tight fit just to push knuckle deep inside of him. he didn't even seem to know how tight he was as he kept clenching and whining. you felt bad for him, he was so cute. you grabbed the lubricant with your free hand and poured it over your hand, coating it.

even as your thick fingers worked him slowly open, just barely getting the second one inside his warmth without tears, you knew your thick cock wasn't going to fit. he wasn't built like a normal heifer, his body was so much smaller than even the runt of your herd and considering you were the largest bull, the math wasn't working out. still the cute thing was losing his mind on your fingers, moaning and whimpering and holding back tears as you scissored and prodded his leaking hole. you managed to bury your fingers just a little bit deeper and his tears finally spilled.

"oh, honey." you kissed away his tears from his red cheeks. "it's ok, I've got you."

"alpha..." his voice was trembling and weak. "'s too much... want.. want your knot..."

you gave him another kiss on the cheek, trailing your lips down to his mouth as your fingers worked. your mouth swallowed the sinful moans that poured off his tongue as you forced his tight hole to spread. your kisses relaxed his body just enough to make it easier to scissor him nice and wide. he was relaxed enough that a third finger started to push into his cute cunt causing him to roll his eyes back. you could feel his first orgasm spill against his chest as he clawed at your back.

he was getting bolder and more demanding. his hips rolled up against you as he let out another moan into your mouth. he was trying so hard to tell you he's ready. you finally dragged your mouth away, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongues as his hung from his mouth panting.

"such a pretty boy. can you be a good heifer for me?" you cooed as you pressed your fingers deeper into him.

"mmmhm i can i can be good. pwease le-lemme be good, alpha." nephite's golden eyes had hearts in them as he looked at you.

you gave him another quick kiss before you moved to line your massive length up with his hole. you pressed the blunt tip against his tight boy cunt, closing your eyes as he struggled to take you. even with all your prepping you were just so big. the tip just barely pushed into him and his useless cock spurted all over his stomach, his body clenching so tight around your cock. the poor thing couldn't see straight and his mouth hung open, drool dripping down his chin. when you finally moved again? a garbled moan drew from deep in his body as he arched his back.

you folded the drooling mess of an omega in half as you worked inch by painful inch into his virgin hole. he was so small and tight you couldn't even fit half of your cock inside before you saw his cum covered stomach bulging. you took one hand and pressed down on the bulge pushing your cock right into his sweet spot. another mind shattering orgasm wracked his little body and he screamed this time. you leaned down and kissed his screams away before licking up his salty tears.

"i know it's so much omega." you pressed your nose against his.

"s too much... knot... knot..." he babbled his eyes still unfocused and his head dizzy.

"don't speak. you don't need to talk baby." you pet his hair away from his sweaty face. "whenever you feel good i just want you to go like this; mooooo."

"moooo-" he moaned out.

"mhm good omega. just forget everything and moo like a good little heifer." you slowly rolled your hips into him.

"moooooo~"

soon the barn filled with his chorus of moos as he lost himself completely on your cock. his mind melted away as you fucked into him as much as would fit. it was all he could do to moo and drool as every thrust forced more cum to dribble out of his tiny cock. you couldn't believe how good his little body took you, even if it couldn't even fit half of your cock his sloppy hole was working hard to milk you. he clenched with every pretty moo off his lips and you were fighting not to flood his guts with cum. it was about fucking him through his heat not your own pleasure, atleast that's what you kept telling yourself.

"maaark me-" were the first coherent words the fucked out little omega said. it was like he could feel how close you were getting with every messy rough thrust of your body into his.

"baby... mm wanna mark you..." you moaned as you dragged your hips out nice and slow before slamming into him again. he let out a happy little moo as more cum soaked his stomach.

"ngh ..i wanna knot you...." your knot had formed at your base where he couldn't even reach. you gave another long thrust into him.

"pw-pwease..?" he whimpered so pathetically, so needy for his alpha.

"mmngh- fuck-" you grunted as you couldn't help but jerk your hips into him. "fuck- baby... when- when you can take my knot in your pretty cunt I'll mark you. do-do you like that?"

all he did was let out another happy moo. you leaned down to give him a sloppy kiss between moans. it was getting to be too much for you, you moved his body into a mating press your massive body and weight holding him down. the new angle got your cock just a bit deeper into his messy hole. you used the new angle to start relentlessly fucking the rest of his heat out of him. using your body weight to slam your cock deep into his boy cunt before you would pull out a little bit and begin jack hammering him. you could hear the sound of his soaking cunt as you stirred up his insides, the slap of his own cock hitting his messy stomach, those sweet moos that had turned shakey from the force. he was so erotically fucked out underneath of you and his cute cock had grown soft as it pathetically dribbled precum.

you were pleased with yourself for having shown your lovely farmer so much pleasure. you buried yourself as deep as you could, hips jerking forward and rocking into him repeatedly until you finally let yourself go. thick ropes of cum filled his already stuffed stomach as his eyes rolled back. you came buckets into the poor thing, his little stomach bloating with cum and cock but you held him still on your cock the whole time. you found yourself hoping he was getting pregnant with your calf.

when you finally dragged your length from his hole it was gaping and cum was trying to spill out. you instinctively pushed the cum back in with your fingers before you could stop yourself. you expected your pretty omega to whimper and cry but no, the poor thing had passed out while being stuffed full of cum. you chuckled to yourself as you continued to push your cum back into him.

"so good for me...." you muttered to yourself and he let out a content moan.

———

a few things changed after you mated with nephite. at first he had been awkward and nervous and even scared to be around you but when he found out you were serious about being his mate and you were devoted to him he slowly warmed up to you. you two would secretly meet up and you would spend hours stretching him open and training him to take you better.

and the other more concerning change was the growth. he took pregnancy test after pregnancy test and they all came back negative so why was milk leaking out of his chest every morning? why was his stomach getting softer? why did he let out a happy little moo every time he saw you?

[catherinnn]

Guilty as Sin

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

a blurb where Hopper catches you two in the middle of a cozy night at Lover's lake.

warnings: very smutty but (unfortunately) they can't get to anything.

masterlist

It was the middle of the night. Lover’s lake was practically empty since it was a Thursday night. But Wayne had interrupted your plans with your boyfriend when he announced that he had the day off and planned on watching a marathon of those really old movies he loves so much until he fell asleep on the couch. So the idea of watching some slasher with Eddie until getting bored and started making out was out of the question. Hence, plan B: parking at Lover’s lake to smoke, star-gaze and then a make-out session. 

You were currently in the back of the van, sat on Eddie’s lap, french-kissing him. 

His hands grab onto your waist like a dog to a bone. Your hands tangle in his hair and pull on it every so often like you know he loves. 

It isn’t until he starts to move your hips ever so lightly back and forth that it gets messy. 

You remove the leather jacket off of him, his hands get out of the sleeves to now grab your hips as if he wanted to leave marks. Tongues dance together as if it was a tango. 

Eddie was very talkative during sex usually. But there are times, like this one, where he just got lost in the moment, in your touch, in your body, and stayed quiet. Paying so closely attention to every single detail of you, that form sentences would just interrupt him.

He moves your skirt upwards to slide his hands under it and grab two handfuls of your cheeks. Moving you easier now to grind your clothed sexes together. The kiss gets even messier somehow. You lift his shirt and suddenly decide it’s getting in the way too much, so you take it off of him and throw it beside you two. 

He stops kissing your lips to move lower. One thing about Eddie is that he loves to mark you up. So his lips cling to your neck like ivy and you whisper your moans and whimpers in his ear. He keeps moving your hips to his liking. Back and forth and pushing them down harder to feel more friction. 

You can feel how your underwear gets wetter and wetter, just like he can feel his pants getting tighter and tighter. 

He nips and sucks and licks and kisses your neck with no mercy, like a lion to its haunt. 

Both of you so lost in each other that you don’t even hear the footsteps around the van. That is until a bright light is directed at both of you, scaring you and blinding you in a matter of seconds. 

“What the fuck?!” Eddie shouts, startled. And when your eyes get –kind of– used to the light, you are able to see Hopper standing there. 

“What the hell are you two doing here so late?” He asks tiredly and you get off of your boyfriend to sit next to him now, he still grabs you as if this was just a momentary interruption.

Eddie sighs. “If I said we were just talking, would you believe me?”

Hopper just looks at him unimpressed.

“Well, we were! just… quite a few minutes ago” Eddie adds.

“Kids, this is a public place, I can’t allow you to stay here and do this with no mind” 

“Oh come on, Chief! it’s called Lover’s Lake for a reason. Just give me 30 minutes and we’ll be out of here” Eddie tries to negotiate. 

“30 minutes?” Hopper bursts out laughing. “What will you do with 25 minutes of spare time after you’re done?” 

“What-?” Eddie rolls his eyes at the teasing and you have to bite down your giggle.

“You running some kind of scam, Munson? Cause I don’t see how else you landed a girl like her with this van and that hair of yours” he teases. 

That actually does make you chuckle. 

“Hop, buddy, be honest with me, we know each other well enough. Are you just jealous? When was the last time you got frisky in a van? Huh? I should lend you the keys sometime” Eddie mocks him too. 

“Alright, kid. You’re starting to piss me off. Put your shirt back on and get going. Go climb her window while her parents sleep or something, i don’t care” 

You try to get up to leave but Eddie’s hands on you tighten to stop you before you can even move forward. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re kicking us out or whatever, but can we just take a second to appreciate the romance here? I mean, I parked the van under the stars with a perfect view of the lake. It’s practically poetic, man” 

You don’t even know why he keeps trying to fight with Hopper. 

“I’m tearing up, kid. Now get the hell out” 

“Let’s just go, Eds” you tell him. 

“Damn it, I get it! Public indecency and all that. But shouldn’t the police be more concerned with, I dunno, actual crimes? Rather than two –hot– consenting adults getting cozy?” he keeps rambling.

“Alright, what do you think? Should I be concerned about drugs being dealt in school instead?” Hopper throws at him.

“Alright! we’ll get out of here, officer” Eddie quickly catches the hint and gets up.

[bxunyx]

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬

Pairing-ModernAU-Smoke&Stack x Bookworm reader

Request-SmokeStack twins with book worm reader. I would love to see the contrast between her and them like they bring her to make plays, hanging with the gang and she’s just reading not hearing a peep.

A/N- hope you like it pumpkin

You weren’t supposed to be in their world.

Not the backroom meetings. Not the corner politics. Not the smell of rubber soles scuffing concrete and burner phones buzzing with coded tension.

You were supposed to be at home—curled up in bed with a candle lit, sipping tea, annotating chapters like they held the answers to life.

But somehow, you ended up in the thick of it. Caught between the two wildest men the South Side had to offer.

Smoke—the quiet one. Sharp jaw, darker eyes, slick with that slow Southern drawl and a stare that made grown men stutter. The mind behind the movement. If Stack was fire, Smoke was the shadow moving through the smoke after it burned.

Stack—his louder twin. Flashier. Mouth slick. The kind of man who laughed during shootouts and flirted between shootouts. Gold in his mouth, heat in his waistband, and a habit of turning anything boring into a party.

And then there was you.

Wearing soft sweaters in rooms full of cracked leather and gun oil. Sitting cross-legged on trap couches with your paperback open while stacks of cash were being flipped behind you.

You didn’t blink when the doors slammed.

Didn’t flinch when the guns clicked.

Didn’t even pause your reading when someone got to yelling about re-ups and bad product.

“Bruh,” Stack said one night, watching you over the rim of his solo cup, “she really sittin’ here reading Jane Austen like we not plannin’ a lick.”

“Pride and Prejudice,” you corrected, not looking up.

Smoke smirked from across the table, where he was cleaning his pistol. “She just like her peace.”

Stack snorted. “She with us. Ain’t no peace in this.”

“She got peace ’cause she with us,” Smoke said calmly, sliding the magazine back into place. “Ain’t nobody gon’ touch her, ain’t nobody gon’ speak crazy, and ain’t shit gon’ interrupt that chapter.”

He nodded toward you, and Stack followed his gaze—watching the way your lips moved while you read, your lashes low, your body relaxed like you were a thousand miles away from the war room you sat in.

⸻

You weren’t dumb.

You knew who they were. What they did. What they were capable of.

You just chose not to be scared. Chose not to ask questions. Chose to be something else in their lives.

Because everybody wanted a piece of them. The streets, the girls, the gang, the game. But no one ever gave anything back.

You gave them quiet.

Unbothered, unshaken quiet. The kind they didn’t even know they craved until it was already sitting cross-legged beside them, correcting their grammar and dog-earing chapters they didn’t understand.

⸻

They started bringing you everywhere.

To the drop spots. The dice games. Even late-night stakeouts, where Stack played loud music in the front seat while Smoke sat silent, watching. And you? Tucked in the back, reading by the glow of the glovebox light.

“Yo, baby,” Stack said one night, eyes on the side mirror, “you hear what this nigga just said?”

“Nope,” you said, turning a page.

“Damn,” Stack grinned. “She in deep.”

Smoke cracked the window and said under his breath, “Good. Let her stay there. World’s too loud anyway.”

⸻

It wasn’t until someone tried to test the setup that things went left.

One of Stack’s ex-flings showed up at a party—loud, made-up, and mad.

She clocked you instantly. Sitting on a barstool, knees pulled up, reading in a crowd full of gang members and Instagram models.

“That’s who y’all with now?” she sneered, looking you up and down. “Girl look like she belong in a library, not a trap.”

Stack laughed. Laughed.

“Damn right,” he said. “And we the library cards. She checkin’ both of us out.”

The girl scoffed. “She don’t even talk.”

Smoke stepped up behind you, sliding a protective hand to your lower back.

“She don’t need to,” he said, voice low. “She listen. She think. She know more from a book than you ever did runnin’ your mouth.”

Then he looked to you. “You good?”

You closed your book, finally raising your eyes. Calm. Unbothered.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “She’s just mad I read more than receipts.”

Stack damn near choked laughing.

Smoke smiled slow.

And the girl? She disappeared before the next song started.

⸻

That night, the twins brought you home.

You laid between them—your book tucked on the nightstand, their arms thrown over you like guards at the gate.

Stack kissed your shoulder, mumbling, “Don’t ever leave us for some nerdy professor.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Smoke pulled you closer. “’Cause real peace only show up once.”

And you were it.

The calm after the shootout. The silence after the plan.

The only thing they never had to fight for—

Because somehow, they knew they’d lose you if they ever made it loud.

And you? You didn’t need much.

Just a quiet corner, a good book…

And two men who loved you enough to let you read through the war.

[iydiamartinx]

TERRITORY, MARKED III

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader ft. Dick Grayson

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 2.3k synopsis: Damian makes an unexpected friend at the dog park—but when his older brother tags along one day and takes a little too much interest, Damian decides one thing for certain: this was not supposed to be a shared friendship. a/n: Alright, I think this might be the final part to this series, I hope we all enjoyed 🩵

You arrived at the manor with your husky in tow, her unclipped leash looped loosely in your hand as she trotted beside you excitedly. You’d never imagined that befriending a sharp-tongued little boy at the dog park—and falling for his older brother—would somehow land you at the front door of Wayne Manor.

With a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you reached for the heavy brass knocker and gave it a tentative tap, only to flinch when it echoed louder than expected.

The door creaked open a moment later to reveal a tall, silver-haired man in a crisp suit. His posture was regal, his expression kind.

“Miss Y/N,” Alfred greeted warmly, offering a slight bow. “Master Damian and Master Richard have been… anticipating your arrival.”

You parted your lips to respond—only to be interrupted by the thundering sound of someone barreling down the stairs.

“You’re here!” Dick’s voice rang out as he jogged toward the door, a bright grin lighting up his entire face. His hair was still slightly tousled from a shower, and he wore a navy hoodie and joggers that looked way too good on him. He leaned down to greet you, hands already reaching for your waist.

His lips barely brushed yours when something sharp latched onto your forearm. Startled, you blinked down—just in time for Dick to miss your mouth entirely. The small hand that had wrapped around your arm, tugged you away with surprising strength.

“Good,” Damian muttered. “You’re here.”

Dick blinked, lips hovering mid-air, clearly caught off guard. “Hey—!”

He didn’t even glance at Dick as he pulled you away, guiding you firmly inside. Your husky perked up and happily followed without hesitation, tail wagging as if she too had pledged loyalty to the twelve-year-old.

You shot your boyfriend an apologetic look over your shoulder, mouthing “sorry” as you allowed Damian to drag you off without explanation.

Dick blinked once, left standing mid-step on the manor walkway. “Okay,” he muttered under his breath. “What the hell just happened?”

Alfred, ever composed, passed him with a gentle pat on the shoulder and a knowing glint in his eye. “He was her friend first, Master Richard. Shall I bring out refreshments, sir?”

Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I might need something strong,” he mumbled, trailing after them into the manor.

Meanwhile, Damian dragged you through the opulent halls of the manor like a boy on a mission. He didn’t spare so much as a glance at the polished marble floors, the antique oil paintings lining the walls, or the grand sweeping staircase that spiralled like something out of a castle. Of course, to him, this was just home—something he saw everyday. But to you, it was breathtaking. If it weren’t for the firm tug of his grip anchoring you forward, you might have stopped in your tracks just to take it all in.

You barely had time to admire the halls before he swept into a side room and ushered you in. It was warmer than the rest of the house—cozy, almost, with dim lighting, plush couches, and the soft hum of an old projector warming up in the corner. The screen took up nearly an entire wall, and the faint scent of buttered popcorn filled the air.

The room was already buzzing.

Stephanie was splayed dramatically across one end of the couch, a comically large bag of popcorn perched precariously on her stomach. Tim sat curled up in an armchair, hoodie pulled up and hood drawn tight, his eyes half-lidded like he was already halfway to sleep. Cass gave you a quiet nod from her perch on the backrest. 

Duke stood by the projector, frowning in concentration as he clicked through the settings. “Hold on—I almost got it.”

Jason’s voice cut through the room like thunder. “Duke, if you break that thing, I swear—”

“I’m not gonna break it!”

In the far corner, a man in a red cap sat comfortably with a toddler perched on his knee. He was broad-shouldered, grinning easily, and there was something relaxed in the way he observed the chaos around him—as though it wasn’t unusual in the slightest. The toddler giggled and squirmed in his lap, pointing excitedly at your husky, who had trotted in without hesitation and was now sniffing at Stephanie’s popcorn.

Then Jason spotted you.

“There’s my girl!” he exclaimed, arms already opening wide.

For a heartbeat, every head in the room turned to you—until your husky barked and bounded away from Stephanie with a happy yip, charging straight into Jason’s waiting arms. He crouched down and scooped her up as best he could, laughing as she licked his face with unabashed glee.

“Who’s my good girl, huh? Who’s the best girl? Yes, you are,” he crooned, completely ignoring the popcorn now scattered on the floor from his sudden movement.

He was full-on baby-talking her now, ruffling her ears as your dog vibrated with excitement, paws scrabbling at his chest and tail wagging hard enough to shake her whole body.

“She loves me. I’m obviously the favourite uncle,” he added smugly, glancing up at you as your husky settled against him with a content huff.

“She doesn’t have uncles,” Damian said flatly, crossing his arms. “She’s a dog.”

“She’s family,” Jason shot back, scandalized. “Aren’t you, sweetheart? Right, Lian?”

The toddler beamed from her father’s lap. “Unca Jay-Jay!” she declared, her voice bright with glee.

As if on cue, your husky barked again in full support.

Roy, still seated with a bemused expression, stood and approached with Lian balanced on his hip. “Hey, I’m Roy,” he said, offering you a hand that you took. “This little menace is Lian. Mind if she pets your dog?”

“She’s adorable,” you said warmly, crouching slightly to greet Lian, who was already reaching out with grabby hands.

 Damian let out a barely-contained tt, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed by the display. You glanced down at him with a raised brow, but he avoided your gaze. When you looked back at Roy, you found him trying—and failing—not to laugh.

You grinned, “Of course she can. She’s great with kids—though you might have to peel her off Jason first.”

Roy rolled his eyes with a familiar sort of exasperation. “Hey, Jay!” he called, turning toward the couch. “Lian wants to pet the dog!”

Jason, still tangled in a mass of fur and affection, looked up. “Then tell her to come join the cuddle pile! This girl’s got enough love for everyone.”

Lian’s face lit up, and Roy chuckled, carefully setting her down. She toddled off with determination towards the two while your husky barked once—happily—and plopped down to receive even more attention.

“He’s gonna spoil them,” Roy said with a shake of his head.

You laughed. “He’s not even pretending to hide it.”

Damian muttered something sharp and fast in Arabic under his breath—definitely a curse, probably directed at Jason—and turned, tugging lightly at your wrist pulling you away from Roy.

“What would you like to eat?” Damian asked, voice crisp and expectant.

You smiled, a little caught off guard by the formality of the question. “Oh, I’m good with whatever,” you replied with a casual shrug.

Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

Because before you could even finish the sentence, he spun on his heel and strode out of the room with sharp, purposeful steps.

You blinked, caught off guard. “…Okay, then.”

Across the room, Duke snorted into his drink. “I gotta say,” he murmured, more thoughtful now, “it’s nice seeing him like this. D’s been… softer lately. Still prickly, obviously. But he likes you.”

“Which means we like you,” Steph chimed in, her voice bright as she leaned over the back of the couch with a grin.

Tim nodded. “Just don’t break his heart.”

You blinked, eyebrows lifting. “Break his—? Guys, I’m dating Dick.”

“Yeah,” Duke said as he tilted his head toward the hallway Damian had vanished into. “But Damian’s doesn’t really let people in the way the rest of us do”

You paused.

That was… true. You hadn’t thought about it like that before, not really. You’d never expected that friendship with a guarded, sharp-tongued twelve-year-old would lead to all of this. But in the time you’d known Damian, you’d learned that he felt things deeply, even if he tried to hide it. Maybe especially when he tried to hide it. And something told you he didn’t make friends easily.

You exhaled, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “He’s my friend,” you said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Duke smiled and gave a small nod, like that was the answer he’d been hoping for.

You turned from the quiet conversation and crossed the room, finding a free spot on the couch nestled between a pile of throw pillows. The cushions gave beneath you as you sank down with a soft exhale, just in time to witness Jason dramatically collapse to the floor. Lian was perched proudly on his chest, giggling, while your husky wagged her tail so enthusiastically it smacked him in the face with every swipe. Jason, of course, only egged it on with exaggerated groans and growls.

You were still grinning when Dick appeared in front of you, bowl of popcorn in hand and that all-too-familiar, flirty grin playing at his lips.

“Thought we could—”

“—Ah, you’ve picked a good spot,” Damian cut in smoothly as he returned, sliding into the seat on your free side without so much as a glance at a stunned Dick. “I’ve taken the liberty of making us a bowl of popcorn to share.”

He held up the bowl like a trophy, smug and unbothered, not sparing Dick even a glance.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh as you turned just enough to catch sight of your boyfriend’s face. The pout was already forming—an honest-to-God pout—his lower lip jutting out as he stared at Damian like the kid had just keyed his car.

With a theatrical grumble, Dick flopped into the remaining seat beside Damian, muttering something under his breath that definitely included the word demon.

Damian didn’t so much as blink. “I also selected the best seasoning ratio. You’re welcome.”

You tried not to smile, but the grin tugged at your lips anyway as you shifted slightly and reached into the bowl he held between you. And, in fairness to him—he had nailed it. The popcorn was extra buttery, lightly salted, and peppered with M&M’s scattered through the popped kernels like hidden treasure.

The lights dimmed. Without any further announcement, the movie began.

Damian had laid out the rules well in advance: no talking, no commentary, no interruptions. And now, you understood why.

From the moment the opening credits of Kill Bill: Volume 1 rolled across the screen, his entire demeanour shifted. His back went rigidly straight, arms folded across his chest, eyes laser-focused. You’d never seen anyone—much less a twelve-year-old—watch a movie with such intensity. 

Fifteen minutes in, the room had descended into a mostly respectful hush.

Mostly.

Dick leaned toward you, voice low, conspiratorial. “So—?”

“Quiet,” Damian snapped, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Dick blinked, taken aback. “I was just—”

“Shh.”

The sharpness in Damian’s tone cut clean through the conversation like a blade. You clamped your lips together, barely holding in a laugh as Dick recoiled slightly, then slumped back into the couch in frustration.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “I’m being bullied in my own home.”

Damian, still cool as ever, reached into the popcorn bowl without once glancing his way. “Because your presence remains a constant disturbance.”

Dick’s eyes narrowed. You could almost hear the mental math as he debated launching himself to tackle the youngest Wayne into the carpet.

“Can I just speak to my girlfriend without being attacked?” he huffed, arms crossed in what could only be described as a sulk.

You jumped in before Damian could say something snarky in return.

“Later,” you murmured, reaching behind Damian to gently scratch the nape of Dick’s neck, right where you knew he liked. His posture softened almost instantly, irritation flickering into something far more sheepish. “Let him have his movie night,” you added, eyes flicking toward Damian’s stoic profile.

Dick gave you a look of pure betrayal, dramatic and wounded. He slumped deeper into the cushions like a kicked puppy. “I’m the victim here,” he whined under his breath. “All I wanted was love.”

Damian didn’t so much as glance in his direction. “What you want is irrelevant,” he replied, tone clipped and cold, eyes never leaving the screen.

Across the room, Jason and Roy both snorted, making no effort to hide their amusement. Stephanie burst into laughter, nearly dropping her popcorn. Even Tim cracked a rare smile beneath the hood drawn low over his brow.

Dick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is harassment.”

Damian didn’t so much as blink. “You invited yourself,” he said coolly, reaching for another handful of popcorn. “Today is my day with Y/n, after all the sneaking around you two did.”

Dick’s mouth opened in protest, but nothing came out at first. He blinked, visibly flustered, then looked at you like you might swoop in and defend him. But you only raised an amused brow and shrugged, your voice soft and teasing. “I think that’s your cue to stop talking, babe.”

Dick let out a defeated sigh as he turned back to the movie. “I miss when I was the favourite.”

“You never were,” came a chorus of voices in unison.

You leaned in, ignoring Damian’s pointed grumble as you shifted ever so slightly over him. Your lips brushed the shell of Dick’s ear, your voice low and laced with mischief. “I’ll make it up to you after the movie.”

He stilled, the pout on his face flickering into something else entirely—blue eyes glinting with interest, attention momentarily pulled from the screen.

You pulled back, settling into your spot, as if nothing had happened. But when your eyes met his across the top of Damian’s head, you sent him a wink.

Dick’s grin came slow and sideways, the kind of smile that promised trouble later. His fingers drummed once against his thigh, then he laced them behind his head, smug satisfaction written across his face as he happily went back to watching the movie without another word.

← Previous Chapter

[underneathsoldiers]

Konig x reader: he thinks you’re engaged

Konig had been disconnected from society for so long that he couldn’t tell your four dollar fake diamond ring from an engagement ring that costs thousands. He noticed the peanut sized plastic and his blood boiled to the point that his head hurt. He couldn’t accept that you weren’t waiting for him to gain the confidence to ask you on a date.

Ironically, you had a crush on him. You were working for Kortac as one of the staff, accompanying Konig and his team on missions. You were basically the paid version of an intern. You did every small task that was required, to the point that the operators had joked about you being their maid, mother, or servant.

Konig would shut down all those jokes when you stopped pretending to laugh at them. He was always protective of you. He never let any of the operators alone with you and worked extra so you were away from danger. Which, considering the type of work they did, was a constant task.

So he had this romantic ideal of you in his head. He knew that the others wouldn’t dare hit on you because he lectured them (after drinking two beers for nerves) about keeping it professional. He had this unspoken dynamic with them where he could think something and they knew it. One of them was that you were his.

But either he was delusional or you ignored it, because you had a ring!

He was too anxious to confront you. So he called for a meeting in the middle of the day, interrupting their training and having them stare at him with sweat and drenched clothes.

“Which one of you proposed to her?” Konig said with a shake to his voice. He repeated it with more force. “Who proposed to her?”

The operators were confused. They stared at each other before they glanced back at him. They all agreed that they haven’t even talked to you.

Konig felt like ripping his hood down and scratching his face until he bled.

“You should ask her,” one of the operators said. They all knew about Konig’s social anxiety— another one of those things that was unspoken but obvious— so the audacity made Konig agitated.

“If it’s any of you,” Konig pointed at them vaguely. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.”

The operators all said “okay, okay” like consoling a child throwing a tantrum. It’s not that they didn’t respect him. But it was hard to show that when he was acting like a teenager with his first crush. It was pitiful.

You were done for the day and you went to your dorm. It was far off from the other dorms, and normally Konig would walk with you to it. It was a sweet, protective gesture. But he wasn’t there tonight. You shrugged and went by yourself.

Then you entered your room to find it a mess. The drawers were drawn open, clothes strewn around, your bed sheets covering it. Konig was kneeling, looking through your clothes, as though looking for some clue.

You were terrified and angry. “Konig?”

He had been so warped in his desperation that he didn’t notice you come in. He looked at you like a dog caught stealing food, his blue eyes seeming vulnerable. But he was a six foot beast, so it was a mix of adorable and intimidating.

He looked at the ring you wore. “Who?” He uttered out so low that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Who what?” You asked.

“Who proposed?” Konig shifted his knees until he was in front of you. He grasped your hand and his grip shook.

“What are you talking about?” You snap at him. He destroyed your room and you just wanted to relax for the night. “What is wrong with you? Look what you did!”

You’ve never felt above him before. Right now, he truly resembled a scolded dog. You almost expected him to whimper like one as he cupped your hand in both of his.

“Why did you wreck my room?” You demanded to know, taking advantage of his vulnerability to take justice into your own hands.

“I need to know,” Konig said. “I need to know. Who. Who gave you this.” He glared at the ring on your hand with immense hatred.

“I got this for myself,” you said.

He was confused. Then he touched it and it finally dawned on him that it was practically a toy of a ring.

If he didn’t have the hood on, you would have seen this face turn red. He kept his soft hold on your hand, as though it were sacred.

“I thought it was an engagement ring,” he confessed. “I was looking for proof of who your boyfriend was.”

“Well, I don’t have one,” you said. You couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when he was on his knees like this. Vulnerable to you. “You could’ve just asked, you know.”

Konig let out an awkward chuckle, “A-ah, yes. I could have done that. I may have… I may have overreacted.”

“You know I wouldn’t dare snitch,” you said, thinking he was paranoid about you exposing Kortac to a lover.

But Konig knew that he couldn’t just back away now. He embarrassed himself in front of his crew and now in front of you. He had to at least have some advancement. Even if you rejected him.

“No. It’s that. I really want to,” Konig tried to find the words to describe what he felt for you.

“Oh my god, were you jealous?” You didn’t know if you were frustrated or found it completely adorable. “You thought I was engaged and you went crazy looking for the guy— you were going to kill him, weren’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” Konig said, then admitted. “I would threaten first.”

“Oh my god,” you held your forehead. Your heart raced. “Clean my room and I’ll go on a date with you. How about that?” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. This guy was your boss, a killer. But he was still on his knees, still holding your hand and still with that doggy look.

Konig instantly stood up and pulled you to a hug, lifting you to his torso. You squealed in surprise, then laughed with mirth as you returned the embrace.

“I didn’t know you liked me this much,” you remarked as he put you back down.

Konig was so ecstatic that his social anxiety was drowned by his excitement. He lifted his hood and kissed you on the lips, holding your face to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest and you could hear his purr.

After you both organized the room(because you wanted the process to hurry), you put the ring in his pinkie finger. “Here. Now it’s our ring.”

[baelarys]

𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣

Aemond targaryen x Reader wife Velaryon

Word count: 1779

Warning: Fluff

Pt2 pt3 pt4

"Mommy! Vaera has my dress," little Vaerys complained, clinging to your skirt with the determination of someone seeking justice in her small, childish world.

"That's not true," Vaera retorted, her tone indignant, her voice reflecting the restlessness she also showed in her constant fidgeting as you tried to braid her hair.

"Vaera, stay still," you ordered her softly but firmly, your skilled hands deftly moving through her golden locks. Despite her agitation, your skill did not waver, and soon an impeccable braid began to form.

"Sweetheart, what you're wearing is very pretty too," you tried to negotiate with the little platinum-haired girl who was still clutching your dress.

"But I want it to be pink," insisted Vaerys, her lower lip trembling in a pout you knew all too well.

You sighed, knowing there would be no peace until the little one's wishes were fulfilled. "Alright," you relented, gesturing to one of your ladies-in-waiting. She hurried to tend to the twins, swapping their dresses with the efficiency born of routine. Meanwhile, your hands briefly rested on your swollen belly, caressing it with deep, protective love.

The sound of the doors opening behind you interrupted the moment, and you turned just in time to see Aerion, your only son, standing in the doorway. "Mommy," he called softly, almost hesitantly.

A gasp escaped your lips at the sight of your son. Your hands flew to your mouth, trying to contain the shock. The beautiful platinum and golden hair that used to fall in soft waves to Aerion's shoulders had disappeared, crudely cut. His face was smeared with smoke and dirt, as if he had been in the midst of a battle.

“Aerion, for the love of the gods, what happened?” you exclaimed, crossing the distance between you in an instant. You took your son by the shoulders, examining his face with concern as you searched for answers in his eyes.

One of the knights who had escorted Aerion to the room remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor as if the shame was a weight he could not bear.

“What happened?” you insisted, your voice firm, seeking answers in the knight’s face.

The knight cleared his throat before responding, his voice full of a mixture of respect and concern. “Prince Aerion decided to escape from his training and ventured into the pit where Vhagar and Silverwing rest. We managed to pull him out of there before the dragon’s fire consumed him, but his hair caught fire in the process, and the maester decided to cut it to prevent further damage.”

He finished speaking with his gaze once again fixed on the ground, as if each word added more weight to his shoulders.

Before you could respond, Aerion quickly intervened, noticing the displeasure forming on your face. “But the maester said it will grow back!” he exclaimed with the desperation of a child seeking absolution, his large, anxious eyes searching yours.

You gestured for the guard to leave, and he obeyed with a bow before exiting the room. Then, you pressed your lips together, trying to stay calm as a storm of fear and anger swirled within you. The danger Aerion had exposed himself to was no small matter; the fact that he had emerged practically unscathed was a miracle. However, his recklessness could not be ignored or overlooked.

You took Aerion’s face in your hands, gently wiping the dirt from his cheeks, your gaze firm and worried. “Aerion,” you began, trying not to let your voice tremble with emotion, “we’ve talked about this before. Dragons are not pets. You cannot approach them as if they were dogs.”

“But I just wanted to see them,” your son responded in a whisper, his eyes fixed on the ground. Guilt weighed in his voice, and yet there was still a trace of his childish stubbornness. “I’m sorry, really,” he added, stepping forward and wrapping his small arms around your waist, seeking comfort and perhaps a way to avoid the punishment he feared.

You sighed, feeling the warmth of his embrace, but not letting it distract you from what needed to be said. “I know, my love, and I believe you. But you must understand that you cannot do this again. Dragons are powerful and dangerous creatures. I don’t want to lose you to a mistake.” With tenderness, you tilted your head and placed a gentle kiss on his head.

With the same softness, you pulled away slightly from him. “Now, go clean yourself up,” you ordered in a tone that left little room for objections.

One of your ladies-in-waiting approached and took Aerion’s hand with the usual deference, guiding him to the bath to prepare him for cleaning. As you watched them leave, you let out a slight groan of pain as you felt the baby in your womb give small kicks, reminding you of their presence with an energy that could not be ignored.

The door opened again, and as you looked up, you saw your husband, Aemond, who gave you a warm smile upon seeing you. There was a familiarity and affection in his gaze that always managed to calm your spirit. Carefully, he placed his sword on the table before approaching you, his presence filling the room with a tranquility only he could offer.

“Daddy!” Vaerys exclaimed with excitement, breaking the brief moment of silence. Without hesitation, the little girl jumped into her father’s arms, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck with the absolute confidence of a child who knows they will always be received with love.

Aemond lifted her effortlessly, holding her against his chest as his face softened even more. “And how is my little warrior today?” he asked playfully, as Vaerys laughed, delighted by her father’s attention.

Meanwhile, Vaera, who had remained silent, looked at her sister with bright eyes, waiting her turn to be hugged. With a gesture that showed Aemond’s natural skill in handling the dynamics between his children, he extended his other arm to draw Vaera to his side as well.

“Look at my dress,” Vaerys exclaimed, raising her arms to proudly show off her pink dress, waiting for her father's approval.

Aemond, always attentive to the details that mattered to his daughters, smiled and nodded appreciatively. “It’s a beautiful dress, Vaerys,” he commented with warmth that made the little girl’s eyes shine.

Not wanting to be left out, Vaera quickly interjected, spreading the folds of her own dress. “Look at mine too!” she proclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of enthusiasm and expectation.

Aemond placed a loving kiss on Vaerys’s cheek, then another on Vaera’s cheek, making sure both felt his affection equally. The twins, satisfied with their father’s attention, moved away with playful laughter, their pink dresses fluttering as they disappeared into their own world of games and giggles.

Your husband approached you with a tenderness he only showed during the most intimate moments. Gently, he placed his hand on your swollen belly, caressing it with the same devotion he showed each day, as if already attuned to the new family member who was about to arrive.

“You look worried,” he murmured, his voice filled with concern as he pressed his forehead against yours, a gesture you shared when seeking comfort in each other’s closeness. “What’s wrong?”

The warmth of his skin and the familiarity of his touch reassured you, but the emotions you had been holding back began to surface. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting his presence calm your thoughts before you responded.

“It’s Aerion,” you confessed in a whisper, feeling the worry still weighing on your heart. “Today, he ran off and got too close to Vhagar and Silverwing. He almost… I can’t bear to think about what could have happened.”

“He’s a brave boy,” Aemond said, his voice soft but with the firmness of someone who understands the complex nature of his son. “I’ll talk to him.”

You nodded, knowing that Aemond, with his patience and wisdom, was the best person to guide Aerion in these moments. As the weight of your worry began to lift, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, resting your head against Aemond’s chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was a reassuring reminder of the strength and stability you always found in him.

Sensing your need for closeness, Aemond wrapped you in a warm embrace, his arms surrounding you with a tenderness that always surprised you, contrasting with his usual sternness. In that moment, the outside world, with all its worries and challenges, seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a silence full of understanding.

“You need to relax,” Aemond murmured, his voice caressing the air as gently as his hand moved up and down your back. The gesture was comforting, almost hypnotic, as if he wanted to erase the accumulated tension from every muscle in your body, leading you to a state of deep calm.

The warmth of his touch and the firmness with which he held you sent a wave of tranquility through you. You rested your head against his chest, letting yourself be carried by the steady rhythm of his breathing, which slowly synchronized with yours. You could feel his strength and protection enveloping you, offering you a refuge where you could rest without reservations.

“I’m here,” Aemond continued, his voice low, almost a whisper, resonating in your ear like an unbreakable promise. “You don’t have to carry all this weight alone. Together, we can handle anything.”

His words, laden with a love that didn’t need to be expressed with grand gestures, comforted you in a way that few things could. It was a reminder that, despite everything you faced, you weren’t alone in this journey. Aemond was by your side, sharing not only the joys but also the burdens that life imposed on you.

You felt his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back, a simple gesture that spoke of his desire to see you relaxed and at peace. Each caress seemed to take away a bit of the tension you had accumulated, and in response, you held onto him a little tighter, letting his presence envelop you completely.

“Thank you,” you murmured, barely a whisper, but enough for him to hear. You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes, those eyes that always offered you the certainty that, no matter what came your way, you would face it together.