#of course there are books that are very good. this just wasn’t one of them and I struggled understanding why it’s so popular

[pixelated-homunculus]

I saw somebody say earlier that Andrew didn’t actually care about Aaron because he didn’t treat him properly (in the books and after Andrew found out about him) so I’m gonna talk about Andrew and Aaron for a bit.

For starters, we have to get it out there that Andrew absolutely did not treat Aaron right. Of course. If you look at them through the eyes of someone who’s had a vaguely normal relationship with love, that’s extremely obvious, but Andrew hasn’t had that. People can talk about how horrible a person is to friends and family, but you also have to try and see why they act that way. Andrew grew up in foster care. He never had a permanent family. And he was mistreated in a lot of those places. Both sexually and emotionally. This is very, very obvious. It’s literally stated in the books. But you can also see it in his relationships with people after. When he was with Cass, he was quite literally willing to pretend Drake wasn’t abusing him so that he could stay there. Because Cass was one of the few people who wanted and loved him. She was going to keep him. She wanted to adopt him. And Andrew was okay with dealing with Drake if it meant he got to keep having her.

So why didn’t he? Aaron.

Andrew finds out all of the sudden that he has a brother- a twin brother- and everything changes. He tries to hide him from Drake. To keep another child away from what’s happening to him, but Drake finds out. And suddenly the danger is so much more present. Suddenly it is not a “what if he finds out” it’s a “he knows and he going to get him too.” That’s the world Andrew was living in before Aaron. A world of sacrifices. So he sacrifices a relationship with his biological family to protect a boy he’s never even met from his abuser. But it’s still not enough. Drake is pushing and he wants both of them. So Andrew makes another sacrifice. And this time he sacrifices the only motherly figure he’s ever had in order to protect Aaron. He knows Cass might not keep him anymore. Understands that’s a very real possibility. But it’s alright, because Aaron is safe.

And then he’s in juvie. But it’s okay, because Aaron’s safe from Drake. But he’s not safe. Not yet, at least. Because Andrew soon realizes that Aaron has his own demons. Because Tilda’s abusive and his friends are horrible influences. And suddenly he’s not safe again. Safe from the abuse Andrew suffered, sure, but not safe. So he plans and he plans. And when he gets out he ties Aaron down with promises and deals, because Andrew can’t understand why he’d want to stay otherwise. Still can’t comprehend that people want and love him. And he slowly pushes the bad out of Aaron’s life. Until Tilda’s dead. Until Aaron’s “friends” are out of his life. Until Aaron’s clean. And he knows that Aaron will resent him for it. Knows that once Aaron finds out Tilda’s “accident” wasn’t so accidental he’ll hate him. But Aaron’s finally safe. There’s no one left to hurt him. He’s getting good grades. He’s rebuilding his life. And even if he hates Andrew, he’s alive, and that’s all Andrew’s ever really been concerned about.

I think that last part is part of the issue though. Andrew’s always been so concerned about surviving, he’s never cared enough to push for anything more. It’s hard to treat people properly when you’ve only ever worked towards them surviving. Andrew himself is still trying to figure out how to do anything more than survive. And by the time the first book begins, he really is working towards it. He’s in therapy. He’s making an effort. But he hasn’t figured it out just yet. I don’t think he can treat anyone properly until he figures that out for himself.

[the-con-of-all-cons]

Okay I fully understand this is timkon BUT HEAR ME OUT!!!!!! After this takes place he reconnects with bernard(the person to be clear) and they start talking against and he thinks it’s so funny that he had the same name as Tim’s cat.

One day Tim is introducing kon to bear bc obviously they should meet in his eyes they have so much in common, but he tells kon this by saying “you free? I want to bring Bernard over” so kons like, oh yeah okay boyfriend coming over with his cat that’s cool.

And then he meets Bernard and he’s like “OH THE PERSON! Hi bernie, can I call you that? I don’t want it to get confusing” and they just absolutely hit it off because that is hilarious. And after a few months they all start dating and Tim DOES tell the family, just in a way that isn’t obvious enough.

Tim would just go, “Oh yeah I can’t I’m going to be hanging out with bern and kon, yknow boyfriends time” and they’re like “okay yeah you guys having date night okay” but they assume it’s boyfriends time as in Tim and kon. Tim meant he was hanging out with his boyfriends kon and bear.

Then he brings Bernard and kon to have brunch at the manor and goes, “you guys know kon, and this is Bernard”

And they’re like “????what? The cat??” Because last they checked they thought Tim was dating Bernard and that was wrong because Bernard was a cat and now he’s a person??

And then there’s Alfred asking normal things like “how did you meet?” And bear says something like “oh in highschool, we had the same best friend who died so we hung out a lot but lost contact for a while”

And then everyone’s like “oh!!” Because of course no matter what Tim couldn’t pick someone normal, two boyfriends and the normal one is the super and not the civilian.

Also details I couldn’t work in but are true to me in this Au in my head:

Bernard already knew Jason, they go to the same bookstore and share a taste in books so they cross paths often and sometimes go for tea to discuss plots and a week before the brunch they actually did a annotated book swap and spent the rest of the brunch after the drama and questions sitting together near the corner discussing them and bouncing ideas

Cass knew the whole time. She already met Bernard, she did have to see Bernard and Bernard in the same room for Tim to prove to her his cat had not came to life, she had been watching a lot of magic girl lately

Bear and Bernard the cat get along great, bear calls him his twin and Bernard the cat will just hang off bear whenever he can. Kon in particular is very upset Bernard likes bear more than him and dramatically says this means bear has to console him for the betrayal.

Kon and Bernard started dating first while Tim figured out his feelings then Tim joined and the love triangle stopped being a V

Dick doesn’t like bear, the feeling is mutual, they are too alike and they both hate it.

Bernard was still in the cult at this point but due to being lectured many times not to tell anyone by the cult leaders, kon and Tim didn’t find out untill later

Damian really likes bear, bear is really good with animals and Damian thinks that is a sign of a person with great honor. Also Bernard is a paramedics and emergency medicine major and Damian who has been debating being a doctor in the future like his mother finds him interesting because of this.

Duke and Bernard have also met multiple times because Jason brings him to his book outings with Bernard when he can because he thinks it will influence him to do more civilian things like have an intrest that other people relate to

Bruce met Bernard a few times at galas in the past but just didn’t remember because It wasn’t relevant until now

Should I write a fic?

Batfam meets Bernard (The cat)

NOT TIMBERN!!! Btw, timkon, actually

okay so i just had this fic idea, that im like very unlikely to ever get around to writing but I thought it was too good not to post anywhere, so, here it is

Tim meets Bernard on the streets, hes a pale shorthair cat probably with some ginger genes in him, but hes cute, too boney and definitely in need of a home, and Tim is lowk sad, and lonely, and not in the best place and a little bit of Cat can't hurt, so he takes Bernard in, but he doesnt freaking tell anyone.

Well, he does, but like, in the worst possible way (Its mostly not his fault, he has no idea how to take care of pets and keeps treating Bernard like an actual person)

Dick, calling Tim for a weekly checkup: Hey Tim! Just wanted to check up on you, whatre you doing right now? Tim: Hi Dick, uhh, not much, just working a case and helping Bernard settle in Dick: Bernard? Who's that? Tim: Bernard? He's my roommate, i uh i found him on the streets and. like. took him in. Dick: What!??? You got a roommate!???? Have you told anyone else? Did you even ask??? Tim: Why would I have to ask?? Its my apartment???? No I haven't told anyone---It's my business, Dick. Dick: You should at least tell Bruce, if its a liability Bruce should know Tim: What in the world are you talking about??? Nevermind, I don't have time for this, I'll be at Sunday Breakfast i'll see you there

At Sunday breakfast Tim is covered in cat fur, Steph and Bruce are tearing up from allergies, Dick keeps eyeing Tim suspiciously, Alfred and Cass already understand exactly what's happening(But don't feel the need to inform), Damian keeps asking about cats and Jason is predictably absent

Surprisingly, its Jason who learns next

Jason, breaking into Tim's apartment at like three in the morning with a bullet wound and probably delirious with blood loss: Hey why does this place seem more lived in Tim: What the fuck are you doing here! Actually, nevermind, be quiet! You'll wake up Bernard! Jason: Who the fuck is Bernard? You fucking someone? Tim: What!? No! Bernard is my roommate, and asleep! In the guest room! So be quiet! Jason, bewildered and slightly proud: Damn, replacement, didn't know you had it in you

And then Tim starts dating Kon, and everything gets inexplicably worse

Tim, abt to leave the batcave: Hey I can't do Steph's route tonight I have a date Dick, freaking out: What!?!?!?!?? My little brother! No!!! Jason, incredibly proud: I knew it! You're my new favorite brother Damian, who know's its Kon, and already knew of his brothers feelings: Finally, I assume he asked you? Tim, embarrased, thinking literally everyone knew about his thing for Kon way before Tim even knew it himself: yeah... Surprised me with flowers and everything. Damian, ominously: I expect no less. Tim: Don't look like that. You're not giving him a shovel talk, Damian. Dick: Seriously!? You knew before I did!!????? Jason: Wait, Demon Brat knew?? Damian, rolling his eyes: Tim was very obvious, it is not my fault you both are oblivious.

Tim, Jason and Dick are very confused, all for different reasons

And then, Bruce finds out.

Tim, calling Bruce for WE related things: Ugh, yeah, just that and then this stupid vase. Bernard knocked it over last week, I'm this close to making him pay for it getting fixed. Bruce: Bernard? Tim, are you living with someone? Tim, oblivious: What? Yeah? Bernard, he's my roommate, we've been living together for a few months or so, now. You didn't know? Bruce, concerned: Tim... is this--- is this you coming out to me? Tim, incredibly confused: What? How---I mean, yeah I'm uh bisexual, but. that was not--- Bruce: Its okay, we'll all still love you, either way, I want you to feel safe around me, but, um, are you sure hes safe? Tim: What? Bruce, yes, of course he's safe, why are you asking?? Are you okay? Bruce: yes? I'm okay, are you? Tim: Yes????

And it comes to a peak when Jason admits he broke into Tim's house and was shushed to not wake up Bernard, and Dick says he knew Bernard was Tim's roomate, but none of them had meet him yet, and Bruce is also very curious about Tim's roommate/potential romantic partner that literally none of them have ever met, so they sort of stage an intervention, they plan on going to Tim's apartment and meeting this Bernard, whether Tim likes it or not because theyre scared for their little brother/son

But before they can do that, Tim brings over Kon.

Its a quiet sunday, weekly sunday breakfast where all the family gets together, and Tim is oddly late, since he's usually one of the most accurate people with time and deadlines and dates and stuff, when he bursts in with someone behind him

Tim, mildly out of breath, hair wind blown: Hi! This is my boyfriend, Connor! Alfred, who already knew and is ushering them to the table: Welcome, Master Tim, Mister Kent, right this way Jason, Dick and Bruce very confused and even more concerned Dick, whispering to Jason: Connor? I thought... Jason, whispering back: Yeah... me too... Cass greets him in sign language and Damian just sneers Bruce, with a raised eyebrow: Connor Kent? Hm... Tim, how is Bernard doing? Tim, unfazed: Bernard? He's fine, still at home. Probably breaking something, actually. Connor snorts: Yeah, probably, you know how he gets when you're not there. Bruce, Jason and Dick now under the impression that they are in a polyamorous relationship: Ah. Bruce, still kind of concerned: Okay, well, it's great to have you, Connor.

So its completely fine for like a week, and then Stephanie breaks into his apartment and finds Bernard, curled up on the pristine white couch and making the apartment look less empty

Tim isn't there, so she freaks out in the group chat instead

Steph: OH MY GOD, TIM HAS A CAT!???? [Image of Bernard on the ocuch] Dick: TIM HAS A CAT???? Damian: Of course, what is his name? Tim: why the hell are you in my house Tim: His names Bernard, i thought you knew??? Jason: THATS BERNARD!???? Dick: Oh my god I thought you were DATING HIM Bruce: 😮 Tim: WHAT Tim: IVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT HIM AND YOU JUST ASSUMED I WAS DATING HIM??? IM LITERALLY DAYING CONNOR Jason: WE THOUGHT YOU WERE IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP???? Tim: Omg im surrounded by idiots Cass: Happy for you brother 😁❤ Tim: nvm cass is the only good one Steph: WHAT ABT ME??? Tim: Only cass. Tim: and alfie Alfred: Thank you, Master Tim

[patolemus]

It’s very humbling when you’re reading a book —part of a trilogy, very acclaimed— and the only thing you can think of is ‘the fanfic I read the other day was better’

[bloodibambiidoll]

Buy Me Presents ⟡˖ Boyfriends!Dad!Rafe x reader ⟡˖

𐙚 Your boyfriend sucks. But his dad? Well, he’s not so bad…𐙚

(Heavily inspired by the book “Birthday girl” by Penelope Douglas and the song “Buy Me Presents” by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s my lil bday gift to myself. Shout out my luv @cameronwillow for beta reading for me.)

Age gap(Rafe is early 40s Reader is mid 20s), Rafe is your Bf’s dad (duh! It’s the whole plot), Reader has a tramp stanp and nipple piercings, Male masterbation, Mutual pining(so so much pining), Thoughts of cheating, Actual cheating (not by Rafe or R), Jealousy/possessiveness Spanking, Pussy eating, Unprotected sex, Biting, Choking, Size kink, She’s a looong one, buckle up!! 18+MDNI!!

You love your boyfriend, you really do. And he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He just isn’t necessarily a good boyfriend either. The easiest way to put it is that he’s neglectful. In every sense of the word. It’s not out of character for him to forget to pick you up from your late night shifts at the bar you work at. He is constantly forgetting your plans, or just flat out ditching them in favor of hanging out with his friends. He never cleans up after himself unless you ask, and even then the chances are slim that he will actually do it. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know how to turn on the dryer. Why would he need to? He knows if he leaves the piles of dirty laundry long enough you’ll get sick of it and wash them yourself. And last but certainly not least, he is the least financially responsible person you’ve ever met. He misses work to the point where he gets fired from every job he’s ever had. He spends all his money on partying and eating out. And now? He’s screwed you out of your apartment that he hardly even pays for since he’s always late on bills.

He decided that having a fucking rager on a Tuesday night in your small apartment complex instead of picking you up from your double shift was a bright idea. You ended up having to get an uber home, which you absolutely couldn’t afford and by the time you made it home your place was trashed and your boyfriend was out front being hauled into a cop car. Apparently when your landlord asked him to shut the party down he got all agro and started screaming and arguing that it was his house and he can be as loud as he wants. And when your landlord didn’t agree? He punched him in the face. So he called the cops and they took him down to the station to cool off. This wasn’t the first time he was asked to break up a party like this, but it was the last. Your landlord evicted him and even though he hardly paid you still couldn’t afford it without even that small amount of help.

He ended up calling his dad from the police station to come bail him out and of course he did. He always does. That’s why Caleb Cameron can’t account for a single goddamn thing in his life, he always has daddy’s money to bail him out. That’s why you are where you are now, staying with his dad, for the foreseeable future. After Mr. Cameron bailed Caleb out, he offered you both a place to stay at his house. His nice house that he built. Which you of course tried to decline.

But after much convincing from both Cameron men, you agreed to move in while you save money to get another place on your own. His dad doesn’t need help with any of the bills but he asked that you and Caleb keep up on the chores and take turns making dinner every night. You’ve been here for a few weeks now and so far you’ve been doing everything. Caleb hasn’t even picked up a single sock off the ground.

Mr. Cameron or “Rafe” as he’s asked you to call him several times now, isn’t bad. He’s been very kind and generous to you since the moment you met him. Which wasn’t until the other day. Caleb never wanted to introduce you to him. You’ve seen him around and of course you know of Rafe Cameron, this island isn’t very big. But from what you can tell their relationship isn’t the best so you’ve never actually had a conversation with him up until now.

He’s been easy to coexist with though. He’s surprisingly low maintenance. Rafe spends most of his day working with the guys on his construction team and then he comes home and showers. If you aren’t working a late shift you always have dinner ready. He comes downstairs in fresh sweats and pops open a beer. Then you, him, and Caleb all eat together. At least you’re supposed to, Caleb was only here the first night you moved in, he’s spent every other night out. Leaving you and his dad to eat dinner together alone.

Tonight is one of those nights. Caleb went out to the bar with his friends, even after you told him you were making his favorite dinner for him. He left before it was even done. Rafe will be home anytime now though. You’ve noticed he’s usually home around five thirty so you have dinner ready and kept warm by five. You made chicken parmesan from scratch and it’s in the oven set to warm while you sit at the shiny marble kitchen island, doom scrolling on your phone. You hear a key in the lock and you hate that ears perk up. The door opens and you hear keys being dropped in a glass bowl before footsteps sound toward the kitchen. It takes him a few seconds to come into view because you also hear him unlacing his work boots, but when he does? You can’t stand that your stomach swoops at the sight of him.

Not only is Rafe generous, successful, cleans up after himself without being asked, he’s always on time and he always asks how your day is. He’s fucking gorgeous. His piercing blue eyes make your skin heat each time they’re on you. His messy mullet seems like he’s been cutting it for years, which there’s just something charming about. Like he could have someone do it for him but he’d rather just do it himself because it’s cheaper and easier. Not that he’s hurting for money. His dad might have cut him off and left him with nothing but once he found out he was having Caleb he refused to be like him. He built his own construction company from the ground up and worked odd jobs to get to that point so his son would never want for anything. His personality just makes him even more frustratingly sexy. It doesn’t help that his thick arms that always seem like they’re going to burst out of his t-shirts are covered in tattoos and his smile, god his smile, it gives you butterflies from your stomach down to your pussy. He always looks particularly edible when he gets off work though.

“Hey, Caleb here?” Rafe walks into the kitchen wearing dirty work jeans and a carhartt coat, his face has a few smudges on it and he really tests your strength when he pulls the jacket off. He’s only wearing a tight white tee that’s just as dirty as the rest of him, his broad chest and thick arms on display. You feel like you’re going to go insane when he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and it causes his shirt to ride up and show a sliver of waist. You finally pull your eyes away from his body to meet his own and he has a brow raised in your direction. God, how long have you been ogling him? Hopefully he didn’t notice. Fuck.

“Oh, uh- no, he went out.” You let out a small sigh and shrug your shoulders trying to play it off like you don’t care. Like you didn’t make his favorite meal because you’ve hardly had any time together recently. Like you didn’t hope you could eat together then snuggle up and watch a movie together, maybe fuck. But apparently whatever party he went to tonight held priority over his own girlfriend.

“Mmm, he seems to go out a lot, huh?” Rafe chuckles and his lips quirk into a small smile but you can see the sadness in his eyes. Caleb is avoiding him and you both know that. But it’s not like him ditching you to go out is a new occurrence. “Well, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Kay, dinner is ready whenever you’re done. I waited to eat.” You don’t respond to his question about Caleb, you both know the answer, it doesn’t need to be said. His eyes linger on you for a moment and you don’t miss the way they flash to your thighs in your little sleep shorts momentarily before he turns and exits the room. You hate that just the smallest attention from him has your skin tingling. You’re just lonely, that’s all it is. He’s your boyfriend’s dad, you can’t have a crush on him. It’s just a fleeting attraction. You’re not blind, the man is walking sex. And it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve been fucked.

Around twenty minutes later Rafe comes downstairs and grabs his beer like he always does. Then he wanders into the dining room where you have the table set with dinner dished up. There’s an empty plate in front of the chair beside you in case Caleb decides to come home. But you know he won’t. Which makes it all the more hard to not drool over the way his dad is wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black tank top like it isn’t the sluttiest outfit a man could possibly wear.

Rafe could say the same about you though, sitting there in your little pajama shorts and a cropped tank top with a tiny zip up hoodie that you have unzipped halfway so it’s hanging off one of your shoulders. Smiling up at him from his dining room table that has never been set a day in its life up until you moved in with a warm meal prepared for him after a long day. It’s something he’s always wanted, someone to come home to, someone that cooks him meals that aren’t take-out or from the microwave. And he hates how sweet and full of life you are. He hates it because he loves it. You blast music and dance around while you clean. You bring the kind of noise to this house that was otherwise so quiet sometimes he felt like any sound he made bounced off the walls. And you’re so fucking pretty it almost hurts.

Especially because he can never have you. Not only is he old enough to be your father, you’re his son’s girlfriend for fucks sake. But that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy your presence. Especially if Caleb isn’t going to. He loves his son with all his heart but just in the short time you’ve been here he’s noticed he isn’t very attentive with you. He wishes that didn’t disappoint him and also fill him with something that is tinged with jealousy that he pushes away immediately. He just doesn’t like to see his son taking a woman like you for granted. If he had someone like you? He’d worship at her feet and do anything he could to make her happy. He really needs to find a way to control these thoughts he’s been having about you because it seems like they intensify the more time he spends around you and he can’t let a small attraction that he can tuck away in the back of his mind become anything bigger than that. Not with you. He’s just getting older and more lonely every year and you’re beautiful, easy to talk to, and living in his house, wearing those little tank tops and tight yoga pants. It’s just some minor lust, that’s all.

“I made chicken parm and there’s uh - mashed potatoes and sauteed veggies.” You gesture to the food on his plate as he sits down in the chair across from you.

“Thanks, looks good.” Rafe clears his throat and cuts a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it between his lips with a groan that has you clenching your thighs. “Damn, that’s delicious. This is Caleb’s favorite, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m sorry he’s not here.” You sigh and look down at your plate, pushing some food around with your fork. Mentioning the lack of your boyfriend’s presence has another wave of disappointment washing over you. You’re starting to wonder why you even get your hopes up anymore.

“You don’t need to apologize for him, he’s a grown man.” Rafe’s expression hardens slightly, he can’t help it. You made Caleb his favorite dinner and he flaked on you? Not only is he disappointed as his father but he also can’t believe any man would take your sweet gestures for granted. He’d die to have someone be this attentive with him. “I’m sorry he isn’t here.”

“Ha! He’s a grown man, you don’t need to apologize for him.” You throw his words back at him with a smirk and it makes him chuckle, the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

“Well, you got me there.” Rafe runs his hand over his head turning sideways under the guise of having to stretch but really he’s hiding the little smile that you keep seeming to bring to his face. Rafe thinks it might be a little too giddy to be coming from your boyfriend’s dad.”For what it’s worth, this is really good, thank you. I appreciate you cooking.”

“Yeah, no problem, just paying my dues.” It’s your turn to pretend to stretch. The words he said were so simple, but to you, they held so much meaning. To be appreciated for something you do, isn’t something you get very often. “I’m - um- I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah it’s really good.” He pokes the veggies on his plate with his fork and gives them a look of disdain that has you hiding a chuckle behind your hand. You’ve noticed he tends to eat around the healthy stuff you serve him. “But I could do without these veggies though.”

“I’ll make a healthy eater out of you, you’ll see.” You give him a playful glare that he returns with a smile he doesn’t bother to hide this time. “It’ll be good for your heart, old man.”

“Wow! I am not that old.” Rafe brings his hand to his chest in mock offense and it sends you both into a fit of laughter.

“Mhm, whatever you say old man. Let me know if you need help getting up the stairs after dinner!” You lean forward on your elbows and laugh and it takes every bit of willpower Rafe has to not linger on the way your tits bounce at your motions.

“You’re funny, I like talking to you.” You hate that the way he says that makes your body heat because you know he doesn’t mean it like that. And you shouldn’t want him to.

You really need to stop relying on Caleb for rides. This is the third time now that he’s forgotten to pick you up from your two AM shifts and you don’t really have many other options. Your coworkers already left you to lock up for the night, your sister isn’t answering her phone and you’ve never been able to rely on your dad for a single thing in your life. You wish you had friends to call. Or money to get your own car. You groan and throw your head back in frustration when your boyfriend’s phone goes to voicemail for the fifth time. You could call an uber but you’re really trying to save money to get out of Rafe’s hair sooner rather than later. Rafe, he would pick you up. But do you even want to call him? He’s definitely asleep, since he gets up at the crack of dawn everyday for work and do you really want to open that door?

The two of you have been getting along really well the last few weeks, settling into coexisting with one another. You honestly spend more time with him than you do your boyfriend at this point but he’s already done so much for you and you aren’t sure if you want to push it. You could sleep here, on the couch in the office and hopefully Caleb will get back to you by morning. But you really want to take a shower. And if you uber it’s really just setting you back on saving so in the long run it’s going to put Rafe out even more anyway. Fuck it. You click on his contact and it only rings twice before he answers.

“Hello?” Rafe’s sleepy voice says your name and you can’t help but wonder if that’s how he’d sound moaning in your ear while he pounds his - you’ve gotta stop. “Everything okay?”

“Hi, Rafe.” You take in a shaky breath, god you hate asking people for help. “Um, everything is okay, it’s just - is Caleb home?”

“Is he not with you? I thought he was picking you up tonight.” You hear rustling, like he’s getting up out of bed. “He’s not here. He hasn’t been home since this morning unless he came home when I was at work. Are you okay?”

“No, uh - he’s not with me.” You clear your throat and let out a dry, half hearted, chuckle. “He was supposed to pick me up, he must’ve just gotten caught up, maybe his phone died or something. I can’t get ahold of him could you -”

“I’m coming to get you. Stay inside, keep the doors locked.” You hear his belt clanking as he hurriedly gets dressed on the other side of the line. “I’ll be there in ten.”

Seven minutes later you hear Rafe’s pick-up idling outside and your phone is dinging with a text that he’s here. You aren’t sure how it's possible that he got here so fast, considering his house is in a nice suburb outside figure eight and the bar you work at is on the cut, but you don’t question it. You lock up the bar, walk over to the curb, and hop in Rafe’s truck.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have anyone else to call and -” Rafe chuckles but it’s not one of those charming ones you’ve come to know, he seems irritated and now you really wish you would’ve just slept in the bar.

“Don’t, be sorry.” Rafe shakes his head as he puts the truck into gear and pulls off toward his house. “I’m sorry that my son left you hanging like that.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” You wave your hand and try to brush it off with a smile, maybe ease some of the tension. But Rafe’s hands just tighten on the steering wheel causing his knuckles to whiten and he breathes out hard through his nose. Maybe you really fucked up by calling him.

“No. It’s not. It’s unacceptable.” Rafe grits out. He’s trying to not be unreasonably angry but the way he’s watched his son basically neglect you has been grinding his gears more and more everyday. And now he forgets you at one of the sketchiest bars in town in the middle of the night? You were alone, it seems like your coworkers already left. Anyone could have decided to try and break in, what would you have done if he didn’t come?

He hates that it makes him feel animosity toward Caleb, that jealous feeling that’s tinged with possession growing more and more the longer he’s around you. He would never forget you. If it was up to him you wouldn’t work in that bar at all and he’d take care of all your needs and desires. Rafe is old school, he wants a pretty woman to come home to, to cook for him and let him eat her pussy every night before bed. Someone who will keep him in check and make him laugh when it counts. The way the two of you have been living together kind of feels like that, excluding the sex parts. Lines are starting to blur for him and maybe he just really needs to get laid. It’s been over a year now.

“If you ever need a ride, call me. I’ll be there.” You don’t argue, there’s no point. This man is as stubborn as you and if you try and disagree you’ll just go back and forth till one of you caves. And you have a feeling it would be you. His voice holds a finality that just has you nodding in agreement before the two of you fall into comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.

Okay, Rafe seriously needs to get laid. He feels like he’s living in a never ending intro to a porno. He isn’t sure if he’s ever been more thankful or if he regrets ever putting that in the ground hot tub out back but he feels like he’s being tortured. It’s mid November so the pool is covered but the hot tub is free game and you’ve definitely been taking advantage of that. He should be glad, it’s the first time it’s getting real use since he built it but the fact that you go in it nearly every day means you’re in a bikini nearly everyday.

You have a few different ones but the one you’re wearing right now while you walk through the kitchen. You have a pink towel that you definitely brought with you from home thrown over your shoulder and the little platform slides you’re wearing are the only other thing on your body. The baby pink straps of the bikini hug your curves perfectly. The little triangles barely cover more than your nipples and he can see that they’re pierced through the thin material. The bottoms are practically a thong, showing off that little angel wing tramp stamp tattooed on your lower back. Hardly something you think that a girl would wear around her boyfriend’s dad, but he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.

Things have been different between the two of you this last week. Caleb went on a ski trip with his friends and didn’t even bother to invite you. It’s not like they’re your friends, anyway. So it’s just been you and Rafe for the last five days. There was a night that the two of you ordered chinese food and you showed him what a “christmas horror movie” is. Which he really enjoyed. He’s not huge on movies but he can’t deny that he loves a good horror movie.

You laughed and joked together. Playfully teased each other over your food orders and ended up just ordering twice as much food. You both sat maybe just a little too close and your arms brushed every once in a while. It was almost like you both got more brave after that, letting glances linger a little longer than necessary. His hand on the small of your back when he passes the kitchen. Flirty banter. And your outfits somehow seem to be getting smaller and smaller by the day.

His cock pulses as he watches you bend over in your little swimsuit to grab a water bottle out of the fridge and he doesn’t advert his gaze fast enough because when you stand up straight and look over your shoulder at him there’s this mischievous little glint in your eyes and a smug smirk painted on your lips. You turn his way and rest your palms on the marble countertop he built himself and it almost makes your tits spill out of what little material is covering them. He’s going to lose it.

“You gonna get in with me yet, old man? Or are you still too boring?” You tilt your head to the side with a bright smile and your voice is so saccharine he feels like he’s gonna get a goddamn toothache. He can’t go in the hot tub with you though, his control is slipping more and more everyday and being that close to you, wet, in that bikini, seems like a recipe for disaster.

“Guess I’m still too boring, little girl.” Your little ongoing inside joke of teasing each other about your ages makes him chuckle because he’s not really old, he’s only forty two. And you’re certainly not a little girl, you’re a sexy young woman. Too sexy. And too sweet and thoughtful. And you’re fucking funny and quirky. And he hates how bad he wants you.

It’s getting harder to chalk it up to lust the more time he spends alone with you. But he still has hope that he’s just lonely and horny because he can’t like you, you’re his son’s girlfriend for god's sake. Even if Caleb doesn’t treat you like you’re even his girlfriend at all. He’s barely seen him the entire time you’ve lived here. He’ll hit up one of his old booty calls tomorrow, it’s saturday and every woman on this island is just dying for a chance with Rafe Cameron. The only problem is he doesn’t like any of them. He doesn’t have to like them as people to get this pent up energy out though.

“Suit yourself, have fun being old and boring.” You shrug and send him a wink. You let your eyes travel from his face down his body before turning on your heel toward the door. He holds in a groan at the sight of your hips swinging, your ass jiggling in that tiny material. He was already half hard but that sent him over the edge. He needs to take a cold fucking shower.

Rafe runs his hands through his hair, letting the cool water cascade down his back. He lets out an exasperated sigh because truly this isn’t doing shit. He’s fucking cold, still hard, and he can’t stop thinking about what would happen if he did go in the hot tub with you. Was it just a friendly invitation because he built it and you think he needs to relax more? You definitely think that, but the look you gave him said there was more to it than that. The look in your eyes always does. Like you’re saying something to him without saying it and he’s pretty sure he looks at you the same way. It can never be more than just teasing, more than walking that line. You’re off limits and he knows that. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you and what nobody but him knows can’t hurt, right?

Rafe lets his mind wander. He imagines what it would be like if he took you up on your offer. He’d get in with you and sit as far away from you as you could. You’d probably talk because even though Rafe isn’t a big talker, it seems to come easy with you. He thinks about the way the water would make your tits float in that little top and how little tendrils of your hair would fall free from that clip you have in and stick to your skin. He can see that little cheshire smirk you always give him and that mischievous look in your eyes is just straight up naughty now as his mind has you inching closer to him by the second.

You’d press yourself against him, your beautiful tits that he knows are probably so soft pressed up against his arm as you look at him with pouty lips and tell him how bad you want him. He’d grab your hips and pull you into his lap to straddle him and wandering hands would turn into heated kisses while you grind down on his cock. He would finally take that top off and get to see your tits, grab them, suck them.

Rafe grabs his throbbing cock and squeezes the base before pumping it in his hand. He groans in his chest as his head falls and his fantasy continues. In his mind his hand travels between your legs and pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, rubbing your clit a few times before thrusting two fingers knuckle deep in your wet pussy. You’d let out the prettiest moans while he pushes you to the edge with his fingers. And then you’d beg for his cock and he’d fuckig give it to you. The pace of his hand on his cock picks up and his breaths grow shallow as he imagines his hand is you, sliding his dick into your wet heat while you moan his name. You start to ride him and Rafe feels his stomach tighten. The imaginary you’s tits bounce beautifully in his face and it has his cock throbbing in his hand as he spills cum down his wrist.

He pants, the you filled haze he was in starting to fade as he comes down from his high. He turns and washes himself while he tries to shake the regret setting in. He really needs to get you out of his system.

You sigh as you use a damp towel to wipe down the bar, going through the motions of your closing duties. Caleb got home from his ski trip today and you wish you were more excited. You haven’t seen him yet since he got back while you were at work but he’s supposed to pick you up tonight. You told your sister you might need a ride, just in case. You hate that you feel like you can’t rely on him anymore. It wasn’t always like this, he used to be attentive and loving toward you, you used to be best friends. As time went on though, he got comfortable and lazy until it got to this point. You used to get butterflies and count down the seconds until you saw your boyfriend again and right now your stomach just feels like it’s filled with a pit of snakes.

He left you for an entire week, without even so much as an invitation because “he figured you wouldn’t want to go”. He left you the entire week alone in the house with his dad and if you and Rafe didn’t get along so well that would’ve been incredibly awkward. God, Rafe. You hate that the snakes in your stomach start to morph into butterflies at the thought of him. But the instant guilt that washes over you has another round of snakes swallowing the fluttering bugs whole.

These thoughts and feelings you’ve been having toward Rafe have only increased more and more over the last week. You’ve had fun with him. He’s easy to be around and surprisingly funny. You’ve grown comfortable around him and adjusted easily to living in the same space as him. Maybe a little too comfortable. You made yourself cum to the thought of him twice in a row last night. It was the first time you gave in and let your mind wander there but you haven’t cum as hard as you did in a long time. He’s just so fucking sexy and there for you. You’re just lonely, that’s all. At least that’s what you keep trying to tell yourself.

Despite your lack of faith in him, Caleb did end up picking you up from work and he even stopped at your favorite dinner for late night fries and milkshakes like you used to. You laughed together and you remembered how hot he was. His wavy blonde hair, his soft green eyes and charming, boyish smile. It’s almost like you forgot what he looks like from how little you’ve been around him lately. Everything felt better than it has in a while. Not great, but good. You had hope that maybe you and him could get back to normal up until he had you on your back with your legs spread.

Caleb isn’t bad in bed, he’s not the best ever but he’s always satisfied you. He doesn’t go down on you as much as you’d like and no matter how much you ask he won’t be rough with you but the sex isn’t bad. Tonight though? No matter what you did you couldn’t get out of your head. You usually love the way Caleb shoves his face in your neck and moans in your ear but something about it just felt like he was trying to avoid looking at you and the weight of his body as he thrusted deep into you almost felt suffocating. You were wet, you wanted to cum, but your brain wouldn’t let you. That was until Rafe’s face flashed into your mind and no matter how hard you tried to push him out it was like he barricaded himself there. You imagined it was him on top of you instead and it’s embarrassing how fast you came after that. Caleb wasn’t far behind you, spilling into the condom before pulling out of you and rolling over on his back. That was another thing, you were on birth control and no matter how much you begged him to cum inside you he wouldn’t. He said “it wasn’t worth the risk.” He fell asleep shortly after that and even though it was almost four in the morning you couldn’t shut your mind off. So you get out of bed and wander downstairs to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you round the kitchen corner to see Rafe sitting at the island. Your hands fly up to cover your chest on instinct because all you’re wearing is a tiny silk nightie. You didn’t expect him to be up. God, did he hear you?

“Rafe! Hi! You scared the shit out of me.” You let out a breathy laugh and try to act normal. Your hands find the hem of your nightgown and tug, willing it to cover more of your ass. But that only pulls it further down your tits and the way Rafe is looking at you right now is making you want to melt into the ground. He’s never looked at you so hungrily but he also looks kind of pissed off. “I didn’t expect you to be up, sorry!”

“Huh, well, I couldn’t sleep.” Any hope that he didn’t hear you diminishes in that moment. “If you’re going to get railed under my roof at three in the morning the least you can do is try and be quiet.”

“I-” Your entire body warms and your words get caught in your throat. He really just went right out with it, didn’t he? He couldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen like a normal person? “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Rafe chuckles almost condescendingly. “I have to be up for work in an hour and I’ve spent the last forty five minutes listening to your fake moans until you finally came.”

“Mr. Cameron.” You gasp at the brashness of his words. Why does he sound like a jealous boyfriend and not someone who’s angry at a loss of sleep? “I don’t think that’s really appropriate… I’m sorry if we woke you up but-”

“No.” Rafe’s tone makes your body tingle with anxiety and something else you try not to dwell on as you watch him push himself up from his seat and round the kitchen island in a few strides. He stops only inches in front of you, his large frame looming over you. It’s only now you realize he’s in nothing but a pair of black, low to the hips sweatpants and it’s blindingly apparent that he isn’t wearing any underwear. “You know what’s inappropriate? Moaning so loud your boyfriend’s dad can hear you from down the hall… Or is that what you wanted?”

He drops his voice to a low whisper at the last part and you’re completely stunned by his words. Especially because he’s not wrong. A small part of you hoped he’d hear you. You didn’t expect this reaction though. Your words are caught in your throat for a minute too long and you know the way you’re looking up at him with your thighs clenched and your eyes blown wide gives you away. And when he smirks down at you, you know you’re caught.

“It is, isn’t it?” Rafe leans down further into your personal space, his plush lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear. “Naughty girl.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest and you’re at a complete loss for words. You’re starting to think you fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Rafe pulls back, his eyes feel like they’re setting your skin on fire as he looks down at you like he wants to bend you over this counter right now. But, he doesn’t. His large hand grazes your shoulder as he reaches out to push your hair back and after giving you a final once over from head to toe he takes a few backwards steps before turning on his heel and going up the stairs. What the fuck just happened?

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You can’t believe Rafe is here and with Hollis Robinson, of all people. Her being here isn’t irregular, she comes in here every week to hang all over the different blue collar men. You guess she’s just trying to go for something the opposite of her last husband, midlife crisis and all that. But why does she have to be here with him. There’s no way he didn’t agree to come here just to piss you off. At first you weren’t sure if he just had a naturally flirty nature and maybe you were just thinking too much into it because like you’ve been beating into your own head you’re just lonely. But after last night in the kitchen? And now this? You’re starting to think there’s more to it.

Especially since you want to walk over there and claw Hollis’ eyes out of her skull for how she’s looking at him. And the way he keeps looking over at you over her shoulder with a smug fucking grin painted on his face says a lot. This is payback for last night and if he wants to play that game? You’ll bite. You pull your tiny black tank top even further down, revealing the top of your red bra and you pull up your low rise jeans up slightly more on your hips so they hug your ass. You make sure your tattoo is still on display though, you’ve noticed him looking at it.

“Can I get you guys a refill?” You lean down and rest your palms on the table with a wide smile on your face and you can’t help but press your elbows together to show off your tits even more. The charming smile Rafe was throwing Hollis’ way falls the minute he lays eyes on you. He came here in hopes of riling you up and gauging your reaction to see if this was all in his head but now he’s the one feeling like clawing someone’s eyes out.

He’s picked you up a few times but he’s never come inside the bar and he can’t believe that this is where you work. It’s not particularly dirty but it’s definitely a dive bar, the kind of place guys like him and bikers on the road stop for a beer. If he was the kind of guy that went to bars, that is. But what’s really getting to him is how every set of male eyes in the building follow you wherever you go. They’re like bees to honey to the way you walk around with that sweet smile, swinging your hips. He wants to wrap his coat around you and haul you out over his shoulder so no other man can see you. But you aren’t his, so he needs to play it cool.

“Sure, honey. Another martini, dry.” Hollis barely spares you a glance and wave of her fingers before going back to drooling over Rafe.

She’s sitting in the chair next to him but she has it pulled so close she might as well be in his fucking lap. Her heel clad foot swings back and forth, hitting his calf every few passes and you want to break it off. She rests her chin on her folded hands as she gazes over at him with the biggest fuck me eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

“And a Coors Light for you, right? In the can.” You let your eyes flash from Rafe’s to his lips for just a split moment before locking eyes with him again. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and then pull it between your teeth and Rafe has to literally stop himself from groaning at the sight. Hollis hasn’t solicited a single reaction out of his body the entire night, but every time he looks at you his cock gets just a little bit harder. His plan is completely backfiring on him.

“Yeah, thanks, angel.” The nickname catches you both off guard. It makes his eyes blow wide as he takes in a deep breath through his nose. He’s been holding that back for some time now but it’s true, you are an angel. Your bright eyes, the way you care for him and that little tattoo. A naughty little angel with horns, that is. And even though your insides are melting, you paint on a smug smirk, not backing down from this fight.

“You got it, babe.” You throw him a wink, just catching the way his eyes widen slightly before flicking your hair over your shoulder and turning on your heel toward the bar. You make sure to swing your hips extra because you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you. You love knowing you’re getting to him, maybe not as much as he does to you. But you’re getting a reaction and that fills you with pride you shouldn’t feel.

You make Hollis’ martini without hardly even looking, most drinks have become second nature to you after working here for three years. You peak over at Rafe after grabbing his beer and you immediately see red. Hollis has her leg thrown over his lap while she presses her tits against his big arm that you want to latch onto with your teeth and never let go. Rafe looks half interested in what she’s saying, at least. Especially when he looks over at you and fucking smirks. Yeah, you’re gonna ruin his fucking night. What if he plans on bringing her home? You don’t think you can stand to hear him fucking her from down the hall. Even the thought makes you want to puke and you wonder if that’s how he felt the other night.

That might be wishful thinking though. You paint on your sweetest smile and walk back over to their table, placing their drinks on the table. You make sure to lean over Rafe close enough that your tits graze his other arm. A silent display of possession that nobody but Rafe notices.

“Here’s your drinks, enjoy!” You turn like you’re going to walk away before quickly turning back around. “Actually, I meant to ask, how long will you be here? I kind of need a ride home.”

“He’s busy, I’m sure you can find someone else to take you ho-” Hollis tries to shoo you away but Rafe cuts her off, pushing his chair back enough that her leg falls from his lap.

“When are you off?” Hollis scoffs and detaches herself from him, sitting back in her seat. Thank god. You can’t help the small smirk you send her way.

“In an hour, I’m not closing tonight.” Your eyes lock with Rafe’s crystal blue ones and you can tell he knows what you’re doing. Yet you don’t care. And he’s still letting you do it, so. “If you don’t mind hanging around until then.”

“Actually, I was thinking about heading out soon.” Hollis shoots you a look before resting her red manicured hand on Rafe’s bicep as she looks over at him almost desperately. Pathetic. “You wanna come to my place? Have a glass of wine, get cozy?”

“I would, but I think it’s best I make sure she gets home safe.” Rafe barely spares her a glance while he shuts her down and she visibly deflates. You would feel bad if you didn’t want to rip each one of her thickly mascara lined eyelashes out of her head.

“Aww, really?” Hollis pouts as she tips her head to the side to try and get Rafe to look at her but he doesn’t. His eyes stay on you. “I think we will have a good time, I’m sure she can find another ride, can’t you?” She looks at you like you’re going to be her wingman and take one for the team or something. Too bad you don’t feel like sharing. Even if he isn’t yours and probably never will be. He’s not going to rub it in your face at your place of work.

“Actually, my ride fell through.” You cross your arms to push your tits up and set your lips into a pout. Rafe feels like he’s going to fucking lose it any second. You never ask him for help, so he knows you're jealous and it’s making his cock uncomfortably hard. “I can probably swing an uber if you’re busy though.”

“No. I’m taking you home with me.” With him. You like the sound of that. “Go do your stuff. I’ll wait.”

“I know what you were doing in there, I’ve been around the block a few times, little girl.” Rafe grits at you as pulls out of the bar parking lot. He waited for you to get off. Hollis left before he did, not without asking him to go home with her again, of course.

“And I know what you were doing in there, old man. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m oblivious.” You roll your eyes and put your doc’s up on his dash. It makes him groan as he reaches over to knock them back down. “Umm, rude.”

“I’m rude? And ruining my date isn’t?” Rafe scoffs.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You didn’t want to be on that date and we both fucking know it, Rafe.” You roll your eyes and shake your head and Rafe really wishes he wasn’t driving right now so he could finally spank that attitude out of you. He has half a mind to pull over but he has to keep reminding himself you’re not his. “You would have never gone there if I didn’t work there, don’t act like that wasn’t why. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to see my reaction.”

“She asked to go there, you’re just overthinking it.” Rafe shakes his head as he turns onto the main road toward his neighborhood.

“No. If I was overthinking it, you would’ve left with her and not me. Don’t try to make me feel like I’m making shit up in my head, you were blindingly obvious about it.” His big hands tighten on the steering wheel causing the veins to pop out. You want to slobber all over them and feel them inside you. “You were trying to make me jealous and it worked, so what now?”

“Now? Nothing.” Rafe chuckles dryly and you can see his jaw tense. “We go home, you go to bed and I’ll do the same. Nothing can happen and you know that.”

“But you aren’t saying you don’t want it to.” You press the issue, you aren’t letting it go that easily.

“God damn it.” Rafe breathes out through his nose and says your name sternly. “Stop. Just stop. This can’t be a thing. No more of this shit that happened tonight. We go back to coexisting the way we should and if I want to go on dates you’re just going to have to get over that because you are my son’s fucking girlfriend, jesus.”

“Yeah, whatever, tell yourself that all you want.” You lean back in your seat with your arms crossed, turning away from him to look out the window. “You know it’s more than that but go ahead and keep lying to yourself.”

“It’s what I have to do, okay?!” Rafe snaps and slams his hand on the steering wheel before regaining his control. He runs his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath. He isn’t the guy that loses his temper at the drop of a hat anymore but you’re so god damn frustrating it makes him feel like he’s going insane. “Now please, just let it go.”

“Fine. But I know you feel this thing between us.” You laugh dryly, your throat feeling tight from rejection even if you know you’re right. “But I’ll drop it and let you live in your little land of denial.”

“Thank you.” Rafe sighs and you both fall silent for the remainder of the drive, only the sound of the local rock station playing quietly in the background.

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You curse under your breath as you toss your keys down on the table by the door and rip your coat from your body. All the other times Caleb has forgotten to pick you up were just mildly annoying in comparison to this. Considering it’s your fucking birthday. You don’t think he even remembers. He didn’t say anything to you this morning before you left for your day shift and he hasn’t texted you all day. He did say he would pick you when you managed to momentarily wake him up though. You hoped maybe he had a surprise planned for you when you got off but you aren’t even sure why you let the thought cross your mind. It feels like he doesn’t even care about you anymore.

As much as Rafe wants to deny that there’s something between you, he gives you more attention than your own boyfriend. Caleb was out all night, so, was he passed out hungover this morning. But when you went downstairs there were doughnuts and coffee from your favorite bakery sitting on the kitchen counter. There was a pink balloon tied to the coffee and a little note in front of it that read “Happy Birthday, angel. -R.C.”

Rafe was already gone for work when you woke up so you haven’t had a chance to thank him yet. You hate that you’re more excited for him to be home than you are to see Caleb. You know he’s here somewhere because his car is out front, you assume he’s upstairs gaming with his headset on and his phone on silent. Or he’s asleep. You sigh deeply as you walk over to the box of doughnuts still sitting on the counter and pull one from the box. You take a bite before looking out the kitchen window and when you do you nearly choke.

Caleb isn’t gaming, and he’s not asleep. But he is out back in the hot tub with his “friend” Jessica. Ass naked. Fucking her from behind with her top half bent over the ledge. You feel like you’re going to be sick as you watch her mouth fall open in pleasure. Caleb pulls her hair, yanking her head back before you watch him land a smack on her ass as he fucks her roughly from behind. He’s never fucked you like that. It was always so vanilla and lackluster. Watching him fuck her like you’ve asked him to fuck you a thousand times is like a knife to your heart. Tears prickle the rims of your eyes But you don’t want to cry because you’re sad, no, you’re fucking pissed. You slam your hand down on the counter in frustration, crushing the glazed treat you’re still holding against the marble. You take a deep breath, readying yourself, and then you walk out the back door.

“Well, isn’t this just fucking rich.” You chuckle dryly as you walk across the back patio to the hot tub and Caleb and Jessica’s eyes flash toward you, their movements halting. “You know, you’ve gotten me some pretty shit presents over the years, Caleb. But being so balls deep in some other bitch that you forget my birthday entirely really takes the fucking cake.”

“Babe!” Caleb backs away from Jessica with his eyes blown wide, pulling out of her and leaving her to stand there trying to cover herself. “It’s not -”

“It’s not what it looks like, really Caleb?” You scoff and you can’t even help but laugh. “You’re a fucking idiot. There’s no talking your way out of being a cheating fucking whore when I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“Hey! Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t -” Jessica’s voice is strained and nervous as she pulls herself from the hot tub and reaches for her clothes that are discarded on the ground.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You know exactly what you did. Everyone in your little friend group knows me and Caleb are together. Don’t disrespect me by lying to my face.”

You take a few hurried steps towards her and she flinches, making a smirk spread across your lips. Good. She should be scared. She’s lucky Caleb isn’t worth an assault charge. You send your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend a glare. “How long?”

“Since the ski trip…” His head hangs low between his shoulders and you can’t believe he has the audacity to be pouting right now. But he’s always been selfish.

“Oh? So this has been going on for weeks? And I bet all your little friends knew, huh?” Caleb opens his mouth to answer but you cut him off. “Were you all just sitting around laughing, knowing I was oblivious? You disgust me.”

“Babe -”

“I’m not your fucking babe! Shut up! I’m tired of hearing your god damn voice, Caleb!” You shriek and stomp your foot in frustration.

“Whoa, what the hell is going on out here?” The sound of Rafe’s voice sends an icy hot chill all through your body. God, how much of that did he see?

“Dad, don’t worry about it. Just go inside, this is none of your business.” Rafe loves his son with all his heart and even if Caleb doesn’t realize it, everything he’s done in his life has been for him. But right now? He has never been more disappointed in his entire life.

Rafe didn’t see everything but he got home around the time you were calling Caleb a cheating whore. That combined with the fact that there was a random girl scrambling to put her clothes on while his son stands naked in the hot tub doesn’t make it hard to tell what is happening.

“There’s yelling going on in my house, I think that’s my business.” Rafe is almost at a loss for words. He feels frozen. He would never abandon Caleb but the fact that he did this to you fills him with rage. The fact that he took you for granted was one thing, but cheating on you? It makes his blood boil. If it were anyone else they’d be getting their ass beat right now.

“I think I’m just going to go.” All three of their heads whip towards you at your words. Rafe looks distressed, Jessica looks guilty as hell and Caleb has a mixture of both painted on his face.

“No, you stay. I’ll feel like shit knowing you’re sleeping on your sister's couch when you’ve been pulling my weight around here anyways.” Caleb pulls himself out of the hot tub and pulls his swim trunks on before walking toward you. It makes you take a step back.

“You can stay with me, if you need.” Jessica squeaks out and it makes you belly laugh. You really are such a fucking joke.

“You don’t have to leave, either of you. We can work something out.” Rafe looks over at his son, so fucking disappointed in him but he doesn’t love him any less and he doesn’t want him to leave. But he really doesn’t want you to leave either, he’s really come to love you. Well, he loves having you around. He doesn’t love you, he can’t. But god the longer he’s around you he wants to love you so badly. Especially right now, he can see you shaking from here. He can see the angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes and he hates it. He wants to grab you, pull you into his chest, and protect you from the world.

“I won’t force her to be around me after this, dad.” Caleb sighs as he pinches his nose before locking eyes with you. “Just stay here, okay? I want you to stay where you have space. You seem happier here. I’m going to go get some stuff to get me through a couple days and I’ll come back for the rest later on. Come on Jessica, we’re leaving.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry I never meant for you to find out like this.” Jessica sends you an apologetic look.

“Ha! I don’t give a fuck about your apology, bitch. Get out of my sight before I beat your ass.” You take a threatening step toward her and she hurriedly runs toward the back door with Caleb in tow. He sends you another sad glance before walking inside, leaving you alone with Rafe.

“God, what the fuck just happened!?” You let out an aggressive deep breath as you flop down on one of the patio chairs. You groan and throw your head back, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The sound of Rafe’s voice inches from you makes you jump as your eyes shoot toward him. He’s crouching in front of the chair with a concerned look on his face and god, you want to jump into his lap and have him hold you so badly. Even when Caleb literally cheats on you, you can’t get these thoughts of Rafe out of your head. If anything they’re just increasing by the second.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You should go check on Caleb, tell him he doesn’t have to go.” You clear your throat to stop the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Once I calm down a bit I’ll go get my shit together and get out of your hair.”

“No.” Rafe’s voice is stern but not angry and your entire body heats when he rests his big hands on your knees so you’ll look at him. “I don’t want you to leave. I love my son so damn much but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed in him right now. I’ll never force him to leave but if he wants to go, I think maybe it’s for the best right now.”

“Yeah, but even if he leaves there’s no reason for me to be here if he and I aren’t together, Rafe.” You sniffle, wiping your nose and under your eyes with your hoodie sleeve. You refuse to let him see you cry.

“There is a reason, doll.” Rafe squeezes your knees slightly in a comforting manner as he looks up at you so sincerely you could almost melt. “I want you here. I like having you here. Not just because you help out around the house or because you make delicious food. I like you, I like your presence and being around you. I don’t like to talk much, I can’t stand small talk, but it comes easy with you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Rafe. You have no obligation to me, I can’t just freeload off of you.” You sigh and Rafe can’t help it, he glances toward the house to see if Caleb is looking but the blinds are closed so he leans up on his knees and takes your face in his hands.

“I know I’m not fuckin’ obligated but I want to help you. I want you here, please?” Rafe’s voice breaks at the end and he hates that he sounds so desperate. But that desperation tells you all you need to know. He’s saying it without saying it. Rafe wants you. And now that Caleb gave you the ultimate fuck you, what’s really holding you back from having him aside from your own moral compass? He’s still Caleb’s dad. On the other hand though? Fuck Caleb and his feelings.

“Okay. I’ll stay.” Your voice is small and you swallow deeply as Rafe continues to hold your face in his big, calloused hands.

“That’s my girl.” Rafe grins at you and places a kiss on your forehead and for a second you forget who Caleb even is. He’s never touched you this much and now you never want him to stop. You want to feel his lips and hands on every inch of your body. “Sit tight, okay? I’m gonna go make sure Caleb is okay and see if he needs any help.”

You sigh and look up at the sky. The sun is setting, kissing the tops of the trees as the cold midwinter wind whips through your hair. You’d probably be freezing in your little work outfit if you weren’t so filled with adrenaline. Are you really gonna stay here with Caleb’s dad? Especially when you know how badly you want him? You know the answer is yes, against your better judgement. You’ve tried to push your feelings down, tell yourself they were based on loneliness and circumstance. But the fact that you just watched Caleb cheat on you and you were more sad about the fact that you’ll have to move away from Rafe is very telling.

You want Rafe. You want his kind gestures. You want the banter you have when you order take ou and watch cheesy horror movies on nights you were left alone. You want the way his lips look extra plush and the way his mullet looks all messy when he first wakes up. You want the possessiveness and the protectiveness. You want to jump his bones when he gets home in his work clothes all covered in mud. You want to eat dinner and shower together and fuck before bed. You want him to fuck you on every inch of this house actually. You want him so bad you can’t even deny it anymore. You want him so bad it almost hurts.

You let yourself sit with that information until you hear the front door shut and Caleb’s car pull out of the driveway. You’re finally starting to get cold so you take a deep breath and push yourself up from the chair to face the music.

As you approach the back door you realize the lights in the kitchen are off, which is odd for this time of day. Did Rafe go to bed to avoid having to interact with you? You wouldn’t blame him, part of you wants the same. You just want to sink in bed and sleep for a week. But when you open the door your hand flies to your mouth with a gasp.

The room is illuminated by candles that are lit on top of the prettiest cake. It’s shaped like a heart with pink and white frosting and your name is in the middle of it, written in pretty, frosted cursive. If that wasn’t enough there’s a little box with a bow sitting next to it and the greatest present of all is the man standing behind them. Rafe still has his navy work shirt with the logo for his company on and he has this lopsided, boyish smile painted on his face that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. This man is a dream.

“Rafe, I- you did this for me?” Your words nearly get caught in your throat and tears prickle your eyes for an entirely different reason than they have all night. “No one has ever… No one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”

“I know. That’s why I did it.” Rafe smiles at you sweetly as he scratches the side of his neck before running his hands through his hair. “Don’t go getting all teary eyed on me before you even open your gift, angel.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything…” Your voice is barely a whisper and you hardly trust it as you approach the counter and pick up the little box. At first glance you’d think it was jewelry but when you pull off the bow and open it up there’s a keyfob inside. “What is? Rafe, you did not buy me a car!”

“No, yeah, I did.” Rafe chuckles and comes around the other side of the counter to stand no more than a foot away from you. “You deserve it.”

“Rafe, I can’t accept this. You have to take it back.” You push the box toward him but he just stops your hand, pushing it back toward your chest.

“Well, I’m not taking it back. So if you don’t drive it, it’s just going to sit in the garage collecting dust.” He splays his hand across your chest, holding the key and your hand in his larger one as he looks down at you almost lovingly. It fills your heart with hope you’ve been refusing to let in. Rafe tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple. “Let me do this for you.”

You can’t help it, you throw yourself into his arms with a squeal and he catches you easily with an arm around your waist. You’re tired of denying yourself his touch, it is your birthday, after all. Rafe chuckles and squeezes you to his chest before setting you on your feet in front of the cake.

“Make a wish, birthday girl.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his chin against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world and you know exactly what you’re going to wish for. More of this. More of him. For as long as he will have you. You lean forward and blow out the candles before letting your body rest against Rafe’s with your head tilted back so you can look up at him. “What did you wish for?”

“Can’t tell you, it won’t come true.” You giggle and spin around in his arms and he takes your face in his hands. Rafe thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and he can’t pretend he doesn’t anymore. He needs you. He wants to kiss you so bad and you surprise the hell out of him by throwing your arms around his shoulders and smashing your lips against his own.

The kiss starts off tender, almost nervous. But it quickly turns heated when his big hands grip onto your waist and pull you flush against him. He groans against your mouth and you use it as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his. You stand there making out, your hands wandering any part of each other they can reach. Rafe’s hands slip lower and slide just under the bottom hem of your skirt, grazing your ass. You

bite down on his bottom lip and Rafe pulls back to look down at you.

“Fuck, we really shouldn’t…” Rafe breathes out through his nose and bites his lip, his actions contradicting his words because his hands travel higher up your skirt and grip onto your ass possessively.

“Do you care?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you grind your stomach against his rock hard cock and scratch the back of his neck with your pointed nails.

“Fuck, not anymore.” Rafe loops his arms around your thighs and you jump up so he can carry you to the couch. He tosses you over the arm and gets on the couch behind you with his legs bracketing yours. He leans over your body so his lips are brushing the shell of your ear. “The first time I fuck you is gonna be in my bed but I’ve been waiting so long to spank that bratty ass and eat that sweet little pussy I need to do it right fucking here.”

Rafe leans back and pushes your little Jean mini skirt up over your ass to reveal the tiniest little pink thong he’s ever seen. He lands a harsh smack on your ass and it causes you to yelp and jolt forward. He gives the other the cheek the same treatment before bringing his hands down on both at once.

“So fucking perfect. Knew you would be, baby.” Rafe runs his fingers over your slit through the lace of your panties, feeling your sticky wetness. “And so fucking wet.”

He gathers some on his fingers before pulling away and marveling at the way it glistens in the low light. He hooks his arm around your neck and holds his fingers to your lips. “Suck.”

You take them into your mouth and swirl your tongue around them, tasting yourself mixed with Rafe’s salty sweat. It shouldn’t taste as good as it does but it makes you hum around his fingers as your eyes roll back.

“Been thinkin’ bout this all day, everyday, since you moved into this house, angel. You’ve been thinking about it too, haven’t you?” Rafe shoves his fingers down your throat causing you to gag as drool pools into your mouth before he pulls them out and spanks your ass with his wet hand, causing it to sting extra.

“Yes, daddy. Everyday. Want you so bad.” You arch your back and wiggle your ass and Rafe feels like he’s going to bust in his pants like a thirteen year old boy.

“Oh, baby, I don’t think you know what you just did.” Rafe chuckles as he grabs onto your thong and pulls it down to your knees, locking them in place. “You want me to be your daddy? Alright. But that means I get to beat this little ass red for the way you’ve been teasing me.”

“Yeah?” You glance over your shoulder at him with that mischievous look you always flash him in your eyes and a naughty little smirk painted on your lips. “Do you fucking worst, daddy.”

Rafe gives you that lopsided grin that makes your stomach do flips before spanking your ass hard. The skin immediately turns red and you don’t have time to process before he spanks you in the same exact spot even harder. He gives the other cheek the same treatment and then rotates back.

“That’s my good little girl.” Rafe rubs your reddened ass and then spanks you again and again. “Not such a brat now, huh? Just needed that attitude beat out of you?”

“I don’t know, I think you might have to fuck it out of me.” You giggle and wiggle your sore ass which only earns you another round of spankings, leaving you a moaning mess. He leans down and bites down hard on your asscheek as two fingers slide through your dripping folds.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’m gonna give you the best dick of your fucking life. But first, I’ve gotta taste this god damn pussy.” Rafe admires the growing bruises and the bite mark on your plump ass before grabbing your cheeks and spreading you open so he can run his tongue along your slit to your pulsing clit.

He swirls his tongue around it a few times before sliding it back down and thrusting it into your hole. Rafe flicks his tongue inside you and hooks his arm around your thigh so you can’t wiggle away.

“Oh, fuck! God, yes, daddy.” You whine and grind back into his face and when his thumb finds your clit you’re embarrassingly close. Your body subconsciously tries to run away from the mind blowing pleasure but Rafe only brings his free hand to the small of your back and uses it to pin your upper half down.

“Quit wiggling and let me devour this pussy, brat. Be a good girl and stay still for daddy, yeah?” Rafe mumbles against your pussy, the vibrations sending your eyes to the back of your skull. “Need you to cum for me, baby.”

Rafe unhooks his arm from your leg so he can thrust two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy while his lips latch onto your clit. He curls his fingers against your sweet spot and rolls his lips around your aching bud and that’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. Pleasure wracks your entire body as you shake beneath him. He sucks and fingers you through your orgasm until you’re over sensitive and your top half is limp with your arms dangling off the arm of the couch.

Rafe leans back to admire you and his cock feels like it’s going to burst. Your hair is cascading over your face as you lay limp across the couch with your ass arched in the air. Your crop top is pushed up showing off the curve of your back. Your butt is red and covered in his hand prints and the bite mark is already starting to bruise. Your little skirt is framing your hips perfectly and your pussy is all puffy and dripping creamy, white.

“I know I said I’d take you to the bed, baby girl, but this pussy just looks so god damn irresistible I’ve gotta have her right now.” You hear the metal of his belt clanking and the sound of his zipper before you feel the fat head of his cock slapping against your ass. He grips his shaft as he runs his tip through your dripping folds and then he uses your wetness to lube his cock. Rafe pumps himself a few times before lining up with your entrance and pushing inside you in one, unforgiving thrust. You both moan in unison as he bottoms out, his balls grazing your clit.

“Oh my god, I’m so full.” You whine as your walls clench around him and Rafe pulls his hips back until only his tip remains before slamming his cock back into you and starting up at a brutal pace. He grips onto your hips and fucks you like a man possessed. He’s entranced by the sight of your ass bouncing back against him while your creamy pussy coats his cock as it swallows him whole over and over again.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. This pussy is so perfect, fuck, even better than I ever could’ve imagined.” One of Rafe’s hands grips onto your throat and pulls you up so your back is flush against his front and the new angle pushes him even deeper inside you, making your pussy flutter around his cock. He grabs your hand with his free one and presses it against our belly where you can feel his cock bulging from inside you. “Feel that? You’re so fuckin’ full of me.”

“Yes, daddy, you’re so fucking big.” You gasp when he slams his hips up into yours so hard the sound echos off the walls and then he pulls almost all the way out and does it again and again, fucking you rough and deep. Rafe squeezes your neck as he pushes up your crop top so he can grope your tits and pinch your pierced nipples.

“Oh, Angel, I’ve just been dying to see these. The way you prance around in those little bikinis has been driving me insane. Let daddy see those pretty tits.” He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. He grips onto your hips and flips you over so you’re straddling him.

Rafe leans back on the couch and runs his hands down your body before tracing up your stomach so he can graze his fingertips over your pert nipples. He circles the little bars that have hearts in the middle with a groan.

“Oh, fuckin’ look at you. Never seen anything more god damn perfect in my life.” Rafe leans forward to take a nipple in his mouth and it makes you cry out.

“In all your years, right, old man?” You giggle when he pulls back with a glare and grips onto your hip so he can lift you onto his cock, the feeling of him filling you again makes you nearly go cross eyed. “You getting tired yet?”

“I thought I fucked that little attitude out of you, huh?” Rafe plants his feet flat on the ground so he can thrust up into you while using his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock. The sight of your tits in his face has him twitching inside you.

“I think it’s gonna take more than once, actually?” You smirk up at him and Rafe is fucking gone. He’s obsessed with you. “Can your old man knees keep up?”

“Baby, it’s so cute that you think I can’t keep up with you.” Rafe flips you onto your back and grips onto the back of your thighs as he kneels on the couch in front of you so he can pound into you harder and deeper than ever. “Rub your pussy for me.”

“Fuck, daddy, I’m so close.” You moan loudly as you bring your finger to your slick clit and rub circles on it. Rafe grips onto your throat and pins you to the couch cushion as he continues to plow into you. “Want you to fill me up, please?”

“Yeah? I’ll give you my cum as soon as you give me one more. Cum for daddy, sugar.” Rafe squeezes your throat as his dick hits your g-spot and your fingers rub your clit just right and it has euphoria washing over your body. Your pussy is like a vice grip around him and the pretty little moans you’re letting out as you come undone for him has Rafe spilling inside you. He doesn’t know if he’s ever cum this much in his life as his cock continues to pulse inside you and fill you with ropes of his cum. You lay pliant beneath him as you look up at him like he hung the stars and it fills him with pride, “Yeah, that’s my good little girl.”

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” You breathe out and saying it outloud feels like the biggest weight off your shoulders. “I’ve wanted you so fucking badly, Rafe.”

“God, baby.” Rafe grabs your face in his hands and runs his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so god damn I’m obsessed with you too. Now that I’ve had you, I never wanna let you go. I’m addicted.”

“Yeah? Well you never have to. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an attitude and tease you about your old man knees until the end of time.” You giggle when he throws you a playful glare and it makes a wide smile break out onto his face. “But who knows? Maybe I can be tamed one day, looks like you’ll just have to keep fucking me to find out…”

“I think I can manage that, angel, starting now.” Rafe leans down and kisses you sweetly before gripping onto your hips and standing up to throw you over his shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of this house, starting with my bed.”

In that moment you think to yourself that maybe sometimes birthday wishes really do come true. You both know shit is complicated, but right now you don’t care. You finally have him, and you’ll figure it out together.

Tagging mooties: @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @sturnioloshacker @eddiesxangel @that-sarcastic-writer @rafesangelita @nemesyaaa @moonlightseranade 🤍

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ If you made it this far, thanks for sticking around for all 13k words!! I put my blood, sweat, tears, pussy, heart, soul into this. I hope you enjoyed !! DILF!Rafe moodboard ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Divider by @anitalenia

[flowafairy]

holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, karasu’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi

[jjjjisun]

Karina’s Temptation

AESPA Karina X Male OC | 14283 words

TW: Incest

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‘You can’t choose your family’ is a phrase that means different things to many people. For some, it’s good, and for others, it’s bad, and for Jae, it was a bit of both, especially when it came to his daughter.

There was simply no helping that at 18, Karina had the body that most women and men, for that matter, only dreamed about. Jae didn’t know her exact measurements, but Karina’s mother always said, 'The girl has the smallest waist she’s ever seen, and a bigger chest and hips than almost any woman in the family. She was an hourglass, albeit an incredibly slender one.

Karina had been pegged early by a talent scout for her beauty, and to his dismay, she’d been modeling since she was 10. Some girls blossom and come out of nowhere - Karina wasn’t one of them. Jae sometimes thought she had been born to marvel at.

She was smart as hell, too - smarter than he by far. She had attitude and composure and…The list continued; he loved every little thing about her.

Except…fuck… those pictures of her… She looked like something off the front page of a magazine, but no, that wasn’t even nearly doing her justice. Looking at the recent photos that had been taken of her, Karina seemed bound to travel the world posing for years to come. And why shouldn’t she?

Still… at 18… how did she convince him to let her do this shoot? She’d worn provocative clothing before, but this black bathing suit… it just wasn’t fair. The thing was hardly anything more revealing than an average bathing suit; Karina filled it out in a way that sent any viewer’s thoughts awry.

Jae wouldn’t have 'chosen’ anyone else to be his daughter, but he also wouldn’t have chosen to be so susceptible to the thoughts and dreams inspired by her. He’d tried to broach the subject in a way that didn’t reveal too much about how he felt. Today, he meant to stand his ground and tell her she couldn’t pose for photos like these anymore.

Of course, when he tried to do so, she was sweet as ever to him, naive as she was, and never meant to cause any harm.

“Karina, honey, this shoot is very…”

“Yes, daddy?”

“I just… baby, you’re only 18 and these photos are very revealing… and you’re my little girl!”

“Oh no, daddy… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“I know you like modeling, and you’re so beautiful, I understand why the camera loves you. It’s just that I love you too, and I would never want anything to happen to you because people see something they want and…”

“See something they want? I didn’t mean for my photos to do that, daddy… do you think that’s how people could react?”

“I have to expect that they will, sweetheart, if only to be protective of you.”

“How do you know, though, Dad? It’s just a bathing suit! I’ve worn one around you a million times!”

Her exaggeration didn’t sound overstated to him - Karina parades a seemingly endless collection of small, perfectly-fitted suits that exhibited her body so often that Jae wondered how he could live in the same house.

Something must have clicked for Karina as she saw her dad looking bashfully at the proofs in his hands. He was almost shaking, and she felt so guilty for causing him such grief. Karina wanted to throw herself at him and smother him with an apology.

She realized what he’d been getting at before. Her daddy might have known how other people felt because…maybe… he felt that way himself.

'Something they want’ - he’d said. Karina was stunned by the revelation, but also utterly flattered by the possibility that her dad might desire her in some way. It was a strange feeling that she didn’t expect.

“Daddy… you know I don’t take these photos FOR anyone else… so that anyone else will 'want’ me like you say, right?”

“Of course I know that, sweetie, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”

Karina smiled and blushed. Little by little, an undeniable tingle worked from somewhere deep within her. Like butterflies, it started in her stomach, and she could now feel the sensation searching out, fluttering to her fingers and toes. The way he was looking at her—the way only her father could—nobody else could ever love her like that.

“How about…” Karina thought carefully, “Next time, will you be there with me for any photoshoot I do?”

His daughter caught him off guard with the suggestion. Jae’s eyes met his little 18-year-old’s and searched them for her intent.

“That way you could watch over me and be protective about the kinds of photos they’re taking of me.”

Jae had to laugh at that. Having some input on the way photographers were capturing his beautiful teenager’s perfect body and that sexy little smile of hers did sound like a bit of relief. It also sounded enticing in a way he knew he shouldn’t entertain.

“I’d like that, Karina. You sure you’d be alright with having your dad around with you dressed like that? I’m guessing you’re planning to continue modeling bikinis and such.

The words had a fatherly tone. Karina looked down at the photos and thought about the next shoot she and that photographer had discussed. Putting her finger to her lip and biting it gently, Karina met her dad’s eyes and nodded.

"Yes, daddy, maybe it would even be fun…” She said demurely.

She had felt so sexy during that photoshoot, and though she’d been nervous to show that much skin at first, now that she saw the photos, Karina looked forward to doing it again. Combined with the thought of her dad being there to see her, the tingle she’d felt earlier was turning into a full-blown buzz. Karina felt borderline woozy, looking at her dad and thinking deeply about him.

“Hey, Dad, the company I took these photos for let me keep the swimsuit. It’s so cute; I love it! Do you want to see it? I’ll put it on, and we can pretend like you were there for this shoot since you missed it!”

Her words were hasty and excited. Jae couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was getting at. Why would he agree to this? After seeing the photos, Jae would have preferred she wear nothing but a head-to-toe burlap sack to hide the beauty he’d created eighteen years ago. Why would he allow her to return to that bikini and show off again, just for him?

“Sure, sweetie, if you want to put it on!”

Jae couldn’t believe it. He’d blurted out the words before even pausing to think about it. They just slipped from his mouth, and now that they were out, he couldn’t take them back. Jae saw his daughter’s look of pure joy - a big, beaming smile that only a dad who’d done something to make his little girl positively overjoyed could know.

“Okay, just give me a minute and I’ll be right down.”

It wasn’t until Karina had entirely scampered out of the room, her hips swinging in the pajama bottoms cinched around her waist and tank top scrunched there too, that Jae felt himself take his first full breath. Oh God… as she was walking away, that little grin she flashed him while biting her lip. It was that look, the entire image of her from that smile to the little sliver of skin on the teen’s lower back, to her bare feet, practically hopping her way upstairs - that was what remained under his eyelids as he leaned back on the couch and shut his eyes.

'How did it come to this…?’ Jae thought, bewildered. He hadn’t even intended to bring up the photos, needing to gather himself before doing so. Still, it had entirely happened out of nowhere, and now his little girl was upstairs changing into the same bathing suit that had rendered him speechless before.

'Oh God, she’s up there changing, and when she comes down…shit… I need to stop this now.’

He looked down at the photo of her holding both hands over her head. She kept her beautiful blonde hair, wetted and deep gold, pulled back in interlocking fingers, and the camera drank her in from head on. The look was sweet: a long glare with her lips parted and the lightest smile on her face, one so naive to what her beauty was capable of.

She was slender and yet endowed with the most desired features. At perhaps 110 lbs, she filled out her bathing suit perfectly. Beads of water coated her skin, seeming to meander down the valley her perfect, cradled breasts created. Some way or another, he’d learned her bust was about a 32D, and it had pained him to know, given that his eyes more frequently wandered there to confirm.

The valley between Karina wonderful tits continued, past the crucial piece of string clutching each patterned triangle of black cloth together, to a continuous line down the middle of her abdomen, approaching the narrowest part of her midsection. At about the cute, inward dip of her belly button, it seemed Jae could likely hold most of her waist in both hands.

And then, across an endless stretch of skin that fell before the torturously low line of her bottom…

“Okay, Daddy, what do you think?”

His eyes came off the picture he’d been mesmerized by, finding the floor first until Karina’s graceful little feet came into view. She leaned against the doorframe and posed with one hand ruffling her hair.

Her father traced the opposite path he’d been following on the image, his eyes travelling up his daughter’s perfect, slender legs and coming to rest on her lower body where he’d just stopped short of admiring in her photo.

…ugh… the way the bottoms hugged her impressively mature hips… with that tantalizing 'v’ drawn and pulled taut below by the sleek black bottoms. If he looked any longer, Jae might risk being caught searching the gap between her thighs for an indication of what lay within.

“God, you’re pretty sweetie!” Jae uttered without thinking.

'Shit.’ he thought - maybe he should have chosen his compliments more carefully, but truth won over his fatherly obligation.

She welled up with so much pride that it burst forth from her in a room-brightening smile. Jae felt sure it was a look only he’d ever know, and as he drank in her overall figure, he wished there was more he could keep to himself.

Karina’s steps closer to him were drunk with flattery, one foot in front of another as best she could - as if she were daddy’s private model. When she got to him, she collapsed to her knees in front of him on the carpet. With her long, pretty legs wrapped around behind her, Karina propped up, so naturally and yet so seductively displaying her body for him to consume greedily with his eyes.

“So you like it then?” She asked redundantly.

Karina watched her father’s eyes glance from her, back to the photos on the table, and then back at her again. She didn’t know it then, but he was thinking just how much better the real thing was, and how impossible it seemed that such a pretty young thing as Karina could exist. With all the affection inside him, he hardly knew what about his beautiful daughter he could admit to admiring.

“I like what Karina? I like you. I don’t just like you, I love you, baby.”

Karina frowned and squinted at him - not the answer she sought.

“Do I like your swimsuit?” he asked again, knowingly. Of course I like it, sweetie, but you would look beautiful in anything, so it’s not really a fair question.“

Karina sat back on her feet, stunned physically by his words. Her eyes widened as she gazed back at her dad.

He continued, "Do I like that my daughter is 18 and looks like this?” he gestured to all of her, “and these photos are going to show other people that too?”

Karina waited fervently for his reply, still mesmerized.

“Not so much.”

She frowned momentarily, but seemed content to remember only the compliments he’d paid her. She immediately changed the subject.

“Here, I’ll show you some of the poses from those photos. The photographer said I did a really good job, and that I don’t need nearly as much direction as other girls do!”

She was excited, swaying a little left and right and fixing upon him with a look that was Karina’s signature blend of innocent and somehow incredibly sultry.

“I don’t have the wind blowing in my hair like I did, but you’ll just have to imagine it,” she said, giving her father eighteen angles to admire her.

Her body moved in ways Jae knew a father’s eyes were not meant to see. She could move her lower half independently and exhibited her prowess through several positions that further defined her beauty. Her body, her rotating hips, and the gentle transitions from pose to pose were hypnotic to the point that he had visions of what it would be like to put such incredible movements of his teenager to proper use.

“You’re a natural, honey.”

Karina giggled, “And to think, all of this came from you, right, Daddy?”

Karina had effectively arched her back and afforded her father a generous view of her youthful chest. When she brought her arms together and pushed her breasts toward each other, Jae watched in amazement as they heaved and adjusted within her top.

“I don’t know where it came from sometimes, sweetie,” he said quietly. The words were uttered with little or no consent from his distracted brain.

Did she know what she was doing? She must? Did she know what kind of thoughts she inspired by showing her body to her father so willfully? For the man who had raised her and all along studied her every want and need, he simply could not read her when it came to such a basic thing - attraction.

“Which one do you like the best, Daddy? I’ll do the pose for you!”

Karina threw her long, golden-blonde hair over her shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

'No, you can’t,’ screamed a voice in Jae’s head. Wherever it came from was far too remote, because after the last minute or two of watching his eighteen-year-old model for him, Jae’s brain refused to see the harm in a little more.

“How about this one?” he said, picking up the photo of her standing with her hands over her head and showing it to her. Karina looked satisfied.

Smiling, she focused herself and then slowly got into position. When she arrived, she looked just like in the photo—not soaking wet, but this time with only her father’s eyes there to admire her. Something about the fact that her dad had asked for her for that specific pose heightened the experience for both of them.

Before, it had been a tingle within her. Then it was a buzz. Now, Karina felt almost as if she was meandering through a dream. She’d do anything her dad asked her to… she wanted to appease his every request. Did he know what kind of control he had? Was there some line when they’d eventually reach and stop automatically because any more would be too much?

“They have a kinda coach lady that sometimes talks me through the shoot. She said my waist looks best when I put my arms up like this, but you’ve got to have the right boobs for it.”

It was an invitation to look at his baby’s chest, and Jae took it. 'Oh God, of course…’ his mind relented - her tits just hung there flawlessly. Still, they looked ample and firm.

“So… what do you think, Daddy?”

“About…” Jae asked cluelessly until, “What do I think about your…?”

He glanced down at his daughter’s chest, letting her observe where he was looking, at her request. Karina nodded.

“Karina, honey, I can’t tell my daughter what I think about her breasts, and you know that.”

The perky blonde deflated, giving her dad a frustrated glare and letting her arms fall to her sides. The topic of conversation, her breasts, shook as her posture changed.

“Oh… I didn’t think…I don’t know, you could give me constructive criticism so I can do even better next time.

Jae didn’t know whether his daughter was playing dumb, but her reasoning won him over.

"Oh, don’t give me that look, Karina…” he said, “you’re very… nicely proportioned, sweetie, so I think you look just fine in that pose.”

There was that smile again. Karina turned her demeanor back around, causing her father to doubt her conviction in the evil eye she’d so easily shed.

“There are some poses the coach told me not to do because they’d be… too provocative I think. Can I show you, and you be the judge?”

Jae merely nodded; there was nothing else to do.

“So there’s this one,” Karina narrated, flipping over and sprawling out on her back. Looking upside down at her father, she gyrated her hips around and slowly spread her legs, working her toes into the carpet when she stopped with them sufficiently apart. The sexy teen then lifted her hips off the ground, still rotating them ever so slightly.

There was no other choice but to imagine being on the other side of her, kneeling between her legs, and receiving the beautiful motion of Karina’s body. There was so much to see—the complexity of her curves, the entrancing movement of her hips, and the innocent eye contact she held with her father.

“I think it’s supposed to be a little too suggestive with like…my…” Karina glanced down to where she was holding her lower half in the air, showing her father where she meant with a wiggle, “Well, you know.”

“Yeah… I’m glad I didn’t see that in any of the pictures,” Jae admitted.

“What about now, though, it’s not as bad when it’s only for you, right, Daddy?” Karina asked.

“Sure, sweetie, I guess you’re right, as long as it’s just me.” As he said it, Jae stored a mental image of his daughter, looking up at him and waving her hips invitingly.

“I’m glad you like it. I think you’ll like this one too, then…”

Karina rolled over onto her hands and knees, sticking her butt up in the air. She arched her back first, tossing her hair and smirking at her dad. It would have been a priceless shot if he’d had a camera. But Jae was glad it was his eyes only for this private shoot. His little girl was barely clothed at all and posing just for him. He could watch her like this for hours.

Karina could feel his hungry eyes on her and saw him shift in his seat. She wasn’t an experienced girl by any means - some curious groping and kissing with boys from school - but something about her father’s composure struck her to the core. It was a feeling exponentially more exciting than the one she got posing for the camera. It was the incredibly taboo feeling of being on display for her daddy and only him.

Karina extended to her toes and fingers only on the carpet, sticking her butt as high in the air as it could go, forming a perfect triangle with the floor and stretching out for her father to see her fully. With practiced form, she brushed her nose across the threads of the carpet, rounding out her back as she did - another breathtaking motion she had perfected in her yoga class.

Except the confining sports bra—the one that usually accompanied this motion at the gym—wasn’t there. Karina was simply basking in her father’s admiring eyes and didn’t realize that as she dragged her chest across the carpet, the confines of her bikini weren’t confining enough.

As she came to a fully arched position, Jae saw, in absolute disbelief, that his daughter’s breasts were all but entirely revealed to him.

He was struck with silence.

Her nipples were pale and only slightly pinker than her skin - small circles around upright and sensitive nubs that his front teeth chattered to hold between them… They perched at the perfect apex of each soft globe, poking out at him tellingly.

Perhaps he could have fended off the attacks of her looks, pose by pose, if she had remained fully clothed, but this was too much. What amount remained? Jae stiffened fully within his pants, his disobedient manhood straining against them as his daughter’s bare breasts hung fully within his view.

Karina saw the shock on her father’s face and watched his mouth open involuntarily.

“Oh my Gosh, daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to show you my nipples!” Karina shrieked. “Jeez, I didn’t even notice, did you?”

But she needn’t have asked. Just looking at him, Karina knew he’d seen it all. The flattered 18-year-old fixed her top casually, inspired by the look in her father’s eyes.

“Only for a second, I didn’t see too much honey.”

But Karina knew beyond a doubt that he was lying. She saw the way one of his hands had snaked toward his crotch and was trying to adjust the bulge there without her noticing.

“There, all fixed,” she alerted him once she’d very slowly tucked her breasts back into the bikini.

“Here, I wanted to show you the pattern anyway; look, Daddy.”

Before Jae could protest, Karina got to her feet and approached him head-on. She put one knee down on the couch beside him and swung the other over his lap. It was an innocent gesture, not just that different from sitting on her father’s lap as she’d done many times before. But the way Karina was dressed… they were looking at each other and sizing each other up… It felt different, and both dad and daughter knew why.

Karina sat up on her knees and aligned her bikini top with her father’s eyes. She showed him the pattern on the black triangles of her top—an elegant stitchwork of flowers. One of the flowers was directly atop what he could just discern the outline of beneath, that perfect little bud he’d seen only seconds before.

“I see why you like it, baby, it’s very appealing.”

Karina settled down onto his lap and watched her father wince. She was sitting further back on his legs so she couldn’t get a great sense of the bulge he was hiding, but the further contact was enough to get a reaction from him.

“Do you think I’m appealing, though, Daddy?”

She leaned back to give her father a better view, which he took in gratefully. Karina had never seen her father inspect her in such a way before, but every second his eyes lingered, she loved it more.

“You know I’m not supposed to answer a question like that, Karina…” Jae began, “But I think I’ve already told you that you are… appealing, so do you need to ask?”

Karina looked deeply at him, “I guess not, but I like it when you say it.”

She leaned in, watching her dad’s eyes and the anticipation in them for what she’d do next. The young blonde aligned with his ear and told him softly, “I love you, daddy,” before kissing him on the cheek.

As her breath brushed across his ear and her lips fell on the tingling side of his face, something happened. Karina slid further into her father’s lap, and his hands were helping her.

His teenage daughter let out a sigh. Karina felt that the increased contact below, however incidental, meant something serious. Of their own volition, Jae’s fingers encircled his baby’s waist and slipped down to the small pair of black bottoms stretched taut around her.

Neither Karina nor her father could have said how long they stayed like that. Furthermore, it was unclear which was causing Karina’s lower body to rise and fall just beyond imperceptibly atop her father’s lap.

It was that motion again, just like he’d seen as his daughter did the fateful posing at his feet not minutes ago. Oh God, he could feel it generating beneath his palms… rotating, ensnaring desire slowly building for his baby girl.

When Karina’s breath began to get rhythmically heavier, to the point that he could match it to the up-and-down motion of her hips, Jae panicked. His cock had been throbbing against her, in sync with his young daughter and telling her… telling them both that what she was playing at was entirely possible.

But it wasn’t. This was wrong; he’d let it come too far and fast.

He lifted his hands off slowly, not wanting to alarm his daughter but feeling the forbidden warmth of her skin leave them, like it should have.

Karina reacted impulsively, immediately prohibiting the retreat of his hands with her own and putting them back together on her hips. As they returned, Karina boldly allowed herself to settle deeper into her father’s lap, pressuring his straining member more deliberately. With a sigh that approached moaning, Karina leaned against her father.

“Sweetie, maybe you should get off…” he warned.

Oh God, that was a wrong choice of words, and Karina took them as she wanted.

Karina cooed again, responding, “uh-huh,” with another kiss near his ear and an urge from her hips. They both knew what he’d meant, but when Jae felt the subtle shake of his daughter’s body, he knew she was giggling about his accidental pun.

The smirk he cracked and the mutual humor they shared were disarming. Karina didn’t want to stop, and she’d take any interpretation to stay on her daddy’s lap just like she was. Jae felt the moment when he could have turned things around slip away as Karina broke the silence.

“Is this what you were talking about before, daddy… what my photos might make people want to do?”

“Something like this, honey, but of all people, I didn’t mean me!”

She leaned back far enough to touch her forehead against her father’s.

“Why, don’t you think it’s better you than some random guy?”

“Well, yes, but I was talking about things a father and a daughter are not allowed to do.”

“What? You’re only touching my hips… I don’t mind. Do you mean something else?”

Karina was writhing her hips quite obviously, disguising it by being her usual, spunky self and smiling at him like everything was normal. Jae’s fingers felt more daringly up his daughter’s slender sides, approaching the waist he’d imagined wrapping them around. It didn’t seem possible that such soft, smooth perfection could be achieved in the curve that his palms traced, or that it could belong to his daughter.

“What else did you mean, Daddy? I’m really…really…curious.” The naughty teenager wiggled her hips about to punctuate each word, teasing her father mercilessly.

Jae was speechless at the tenacity of his eighteen-year-old. Once again, she put her hands over his, feeling them clasped at her waist. They both looked momentarily at the tell-tale bulge Karina was relentlessly pushing against. Each passionate word she spoke seemed to erode the forbidden wall between them, leaving only the clothing that separated one act from a far more meaningful one.

“Are you allowed to do this at least?” Karina asked, urging his hands to climb higher. The bumps of her ribcage meandered against his palms as Jae let his little blonde lead.

With a deep breath and the disbelief of her father, Karina quickly covered each of her breasts with his hands. They sat motionless but for the swelling of her lungs while the two contemplated the touch.

“Not,” Jae said sternly.

But he didn’t move his hands. Even when Karina removed hers to put them behind her back and slowly stick out her chest into her father’s grasp, his touch remained. Karina breathed sweetly with relief.

“Mnhhhh…” he heard her utter, “I can’t imagine why, it’s only touching… who says we can’t do that?

Absurd logic… and he knew it, but his hands were already there, and Jae had been longing to feel his daughter’s beautiful breasts since Karina had first developed them. God, they were amazing… his fingers carefully sought to detail them fully. Each mound sat proudly in his cradling grasp, more than filling it out and quivering when he massaged them.

Karina moaned without pretense. She felt her dad’s palms rub the fabric of her bra against her nipples. They screamed with sensation, and she reveled at the position in her father’s lap she’d achieved. The teen smiled widely as she saw how much her father enjoyed playing with her. His approval was all she ever wanted.

"I think you might like them better without my top on, Daddy,” she cooed sweetly.

Allowing her instincts to act on her behalf, Karina reached around and swiftly untied her bikini from behind before her father could even consider stopping her. Nobody had ever seen or touched her without a top, and as she felt the tension release from its grasp, the beautiful teen was ecstatic that the first would be her father.

He surprised her. He recognized that feeling up his teenage daughter was hardly different with or without her clothes on, so he helped her pull the bikini up and over her head smoothly.

Her breasts barely drooped, sitting up proudly and youthfully as only an eighteen-year-old can. Never, not on her mother or any of the other women before her, had he ever seen a more beautiful chest.

“So… do you like them better this way, Daddy? Or should I put my top back on because we’re not allowed?”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure yet, I’ll feel them and decide.

Karina grinned at her cheeky dad, raising her eyebrows and glancing down to ask him what he was waiting for.

His palms returned, and this time the pretty blonde whimpered louder at the direct contact to her nipples. The way he touched her… how he massaged and then gently took each nub in between his fingers with a deliberate squeeze… Her whole body seized briefly, throwing her head back and its shower of golden hair with it. As he pinched her, Jae allowed the two of them to press together firmly at the hips… two intense points of contact and an ocean of expectation between.

"Much better this way, sweetie. This feels good, I’m guessing?” He asked, gently pinching and tugging at her again.

Karina rewarded him with multiple, wonderful gyrations of her hips, “uh huh, I like it better this way too.” She let him touch her for a few more seconds, watching his eyes roam her body as she thought about where they might be headed.

“Daddy…” she whispered, bringing her eyes back to his, “show me what else my photos make you want… please… anything.”

Her eyes welled with desperation and desire. She was hardly old enough to know all that could come of an attraction as strong as theirs, but Jae wondered if he wasn’t willing to show her 'anything’ and everything.

“Karina… baby… do you know what you’re doing to me?”

She knew. She nodded almost immediately, pressing into him and telling her father she needed his guidance.

“I think so, daddy,” she cooed, reaching down between them and running her fingers over his jeans in just the right spot, “but what are you going to do to me?”

Jae had nothing left. No guilt or apprehension, no fear of taking advantage of his little girl. He drank her in one last time, observed the readied look of confidence she was trying so hard to maintain, and made his decision.

“Well, first we better get you out of these,” he said, reluctantly leaving her breasts to the cool air, and placing both thumbs beneath the tiny waistband of the remaining piece of her bikini.

“Mnnnhh…that’s what you want? That’s naughty, don’t you think, Daddy?” she said, teasing him but giving no sign of resistance as she felt her dad press his thumbs into the sensitive and soft skin just below the top of her panties.

Jae lay her backward onto the couch, and the two of them worked together to get Karina fully naked. She wiggled back and forth, helping her father tug the last tiny black piece of modesty down her long, slender legs.

When it was done, the teenager watched her appearance stun her dad for a few seconds. What he did see, between his daughter’s legs, was the prettiest, tiniest pussy he could imagine. The prize he’d uncovered was just the peek of her lips and the pink hue of that soft, shaven skin between her smooth thighs.

“Karina, honey…” he started, causing her to wait for his every word. You just keep getting more beautiful.“

Again, a jolt of excitement wracked her body as she heard her own father comment directly on a place he was certainly forbidden to admire. And if that wasn’t bad enough, what he also saw there was that his naughty little girl was quite visibly shiny and wet all around her perfect, teenage mound.

"Daddy, it’s not fair. You got me totally naked, and you’re still wearing all your clothes.”

She was right, it wasn’t fair.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart, do you want to help me out of mine then?”

Karina nodded enthusiastically and sat back up on the couch. Her dad easily removed his shirt, and while he did, his daughter was at his belt. She saw the way his pants were swelling along the path of what was within, but she’d never seen one up close. How big could it be? It was so long, almost to his waistband.

She took an extra few seconds to navigate the unfamiliar territory of his belt buckle and button, but when she had it, she pulled his pants apart eagerly.

When the two of them finally tugged at the waistband of both his pants and underwear, Karina got a view of what she’d been waiting for. Her father had seen her most intimately, and now what he’d been holding back sprang out from his pants and bobbed fatefully in front of her.

Karina gasped, marveling at his size and wondering what in God’s name he was planning to do with such a big cock.

“Daddy, oh my god… I’ve never seen one before… they can’t all be this big, right?”

“No, I guess not, sweetie. And that’s a very nice compliment to tell a man by the way.”

“What? That my daddy’s penis huge?” Karina tried to keep a straight face, but her feigned innocence broke out into a grin as she acknowledged how naughty her words were.

“Can I please touch it? I don’t even think it will fit in my hands!”

Jae gave her the same look she’d given him before, indicating for her to proceed.

It was his turn to groan this time, for Karina wasted little time encircling fingers around him with both hands. She was right; he looked bigger than ever in her sweet little grasp. Karina looked up at her father as she took hold of him, smiling at the obvious pleasure she was causing.

Her father was so hard and so aroused that his cock was throbbing, and the fact was not lost on the young teen. In her learning hands, she felt his shaft swell, and a clear liquid emitted from the very tip. She quickly touched it with her thumb, rubbing it around his already glossy head, not knowing just how sensitive and intense that would feel to him.

His head rolled around, catching a glimpse of the photos scattered haphazardly about. Jae would never be able to recount perfectly how he’d gone from the forbidden and unspoken dreams they inspired to that moment. But as his daughter spoke her curious words and explored him excitedly, he knew he could never regret what was about to happen.

“What’s this, Daddy? I can feel your cock pulsing in my hands… and it’s leaking out at the tip!”

“Unhghhh… honey… that’s pre-cum, and it only happens when your dad is really… turned on.”

Karina seemed to like that answer, and she repaid him by slowly working her two hands back and forth on his shaft.

“Does that mean I’m doing a good job, Dad? Or should I stop because we’re not allowed?”

The little tease! Her father could see the smirk on her face, and he wanted her all the more because of it. He loved everything about his little girl - her wit, rebelliousness, charm… and today he’d been given a chance to love her physically as well. He wasn’t about to waste it.

“No, it’s okay, Karina, I won’t stop you.”

Again, she was quite satisfied with her effect on him. The blonde’s hands worked more steadily over his wide member, and precum eked continuously from him. His naked little girl was doing a much better job than he’d expected to pleasure her father, and she’d been touching him for mere seconds.

Like she so commonly did, Karina took her dad by surprise, craning forward when he’d shut his eyes and keeping her hands on him while she added a new sensation to her stroking. The warm, wet embrace of his daughter’s lips and the shocking lap of her tongue encircled his tip without warning.

Jae looked down at his offspring, and she kept staring up at him the whole time. She sucked at her daddy’s head; showing him she meant to discover what the clear liquid that had been there tasted like.

He couldn’t take more than a few seconds of that. Unlike any other girl he’d been with in his life, his beautiful 18-year-old had him seemingly seconds from orgasm, and she’d only just begun.

Jae reached down to stop her, “ugh… fuck… wait sweetie… you have to stop,” he said, pushing her back and stilling her hands. Karina watched as her father breathed hastily and closed his eyes. She’d never seen a man so overcome like that.

“Daddy… were you going to cum because of me?”

Still, her father only breathed and managed to look at her.

“You were, weren’t you? It would have been okay, Daddy, I wouldn’t have minded, even if you did it on me.”

A few seconds more and he would have - all over her. The way she was perched, Jae could just imagine white streaks of his semen painting her masterpiece of a body. But with no holds barred, Jae had a much better plan.

“Yes, Karina, looking at you the way I have been, and then how you touched me… you almost made me cum right on those beautiful tits of yours.”

Karina looked down and bit her lip, obviously thinking she’d like that very much.

“I want to take my time with you, sweetie. I want to spend hours showing you every way I know to have sex… and I will…but…”

He had her attention; she stayed perched and waiting for him to go on.

“But right no,w Karina, I want to do the thing we’re definitely not allowed to do.”

Karina blushed as he called her by that name he reserved only for the most special occasions, and it seemed he had saved it for the most significant one. She looked at his erect cock, how it stood there waiting for what would come next and considered what he’d just proposed.

'The thing they were definitely not allowed to do… oh god,’ she thought with a shiver. She’d never entered such territory before, but somehow every part of her was begging to.

“You want to fuck me… now daddy?”

They stared at each other while Jae worked up the gall to admit such incestuous desires to his own daughter.

“I do, baby, but only if you want me to.”

Karina let the moment linger, pondering everything and nothing simultaneously. She knew there was no way she would stop them now, but this was perhaps the most significant moment of her life, and it felt that way.

She nodded, slowly but surely.

“I want you to fuck me too…”

Jae put his finger beneath her chin and pulled her up to kiss him. For the first time, they joined in a kiss that would precede the forbidden act they were both desperately awaiting. Once again, Karina felt passion in that kiss she’d never known possible. Her tongue and his acted as though entwined both genetically and enduringly. When they broke, Karina’s worries were being cradled away, similar to how her father lovingly lowered her to the couch beneath him.

His eyes roamed over her entire body, from her alluring blonde hair, to her youthful breasts, to her long, little legs rubbing together with her feet fidgeting nervously below.

“Daddy, I’m a virgin… You know that, right?”

“Another wonderful thing for a father to hear…” Jae smiled, “Does that make you worried about having sex with me, sweetie?”

“No, I know you’ll be good to me… It’s just…” Karina looked down, widening her eyes as she fixed on her target.

Her father caught her meaning and knew that, however ready she was for him, her tiny frame was still going to need to adjust to having him inside her, and that might cause her pain.

“I know it looks bi,g sweetie.”

“Big!” Karina retorted, “It looks like you could split me in half!”

She was only half-joking, but both Jae and his daughter chuckled once more.

“Do you really think it will fit?” she asked nervously.

Jae eyed her understandingly, “I know you’re my little girl, but your pussy is made to stretch just enough sweetie,” he reassured, “and I made you, so I’m betting we’ll fit together very well Karina.”

She smiled, tickled at the thought. Soon, something ever so close to her opening was tickling her, or rather tapping her impatiently.

Karina shook with surprise. To feel her father’s penis touch her so close… only a little closer and she might have thought it incest. 'Oh my God…we’re doing this…’ she thought.

As he came closer to her, Karina and her father felt his cock lay against her abdomen. Seeing it like that, swollen and throbbing with his heartbeat, Karina’s body quaked at the thought of what it was going to feel like. His cock looked even bigger when she considered that the distance it traveled up her belly button would be about how far it would be inside of her. She couldn’t help finding it appreciative with her hand.

“But there’s one other thing, Daddy…” Karina began; her hand seemed to be feeling her daddy’s cock, searching for something, “you aren’t wearing a condom.”

Oh… yeah… There was that.

“Honey… I haven’t needed those since not long after we had you… So I don’t have any.”

“Well, neither do I, you’re about to be my first, remember?”

“It’s okay, Karina, we can have sex without one, you’re mother told me a while ago she was going to put you on birth control. You are now right?”

“Mnhh… daddy, that’s not fair…” she chastised him as he taunted her with further pressure of his shaft against her tiny mound, “I am on the pill, but my health teacher said you should always use a condom.”

Jae drove against her again, and felt his member wetted as he slid against his daughter’s readied pussy.

“That’s very good that you always practice safe sex, Karina, but I’m your father, so having sex with me is far safer than with boys you don’t know.”

“Are you just saying that because you want to fuck me so bad daddy?”

“No, I’m just saying this ONE exception would be okay. You can have sex with me without a condom, but only with me.”

He knew that rule was ridiculous, but so was the fact that Jae was reasoning with his daughter, rubbing steadily between her soaked little lips. He’d taken hold of his cock and was playing closer and closer to her entrance. A few times, even Karina realized just how near her daddy was to taking a slightly different angle and penetrating her.

Her father’s 'exception’ was a bit self-serving, and Karina knew it. She looked doubtfully at him, making Jae worried she might want them to stop. The writhing teenager furrowed her brow as she tried to keep her wits about her with the stimulation her dad was causing below.

“I’ll stop in a heartbeat if you want me to,” he prodded, waiting a few torturous seconds for his daughter to decide.

“No, don’t stop, Daddy. It’s okay; you don’t need to use a condom.”

Jae sighed in relief as Karina lifted her hips up just enough to let her father know she was ready for him. From the teasing and grinding they were doing, she and her father glistened with clear streaks across their skin. The eighteen-year-old could once again see pre-ejaculate gathered copiously at his tip, thereafter watching it directed expertly against her opening, right where her father wanted it.

“Honey, you know I love you, right? You can call this whole thing off right no,w and it wouldn’t be incest.”

The forbidden word made her shiver with excitement. It was sweet of him to give her every opportunity to be in control of what they committed, but Karina held her father’s gaze, knowing how important her next words were.

“I love you, too, Daddy. I’m ready for you.”

With her permission, Jae watched her face closely, took a deep breath, and inserted his tip past Karina’s taut pink entrance. He felt how incredibly wet she was as it slowly spread her apart. With only the tip, his baby was making plenty of noise.

“Oh god, dad…mnghhh… I can’t believe this… uhhhkeep going…”

Still he pushed forth, and Jae’s bare cock entered his young virgin’s pussy definitively for the first time. Karina turned her head and howled against the cushion, continuing to do so as her daddy gave her another inch. Past the tip, he was wider, and those few inches were just about to push inside her.

“Fuck daddy… wait…OhGoDDdd… It’s so big…”

Jae could only watch his baby cope with the first cock she’d ever felt, but he was able to be eternally grateful that it was his own.

“It won’t fit, Daddy… it won’t! It’s too big.” She grimaced and grasped at nothing on the couch when he pushed a little further.

“Shhh… relax Karina… don’t squeeze too much, it’s already halfway in.”

“Really? Ohmygod, I can’t believe you’re fucking me…ohshitt… are you sure it’s going to fit, it hurts daddy?!”

“I know it does, Karina, but I promise it will disappear. Here I’ll take it out and we can try again.”

Jae began to withdraw, but his daughter quickly reached down and grabbed the base of his cock…

“No, don’t, Daddy; I’m ready to keep trying. I want to be able to take it all… I’m made for you like you said, right?”

He loved her so deeply just then, and as Jae allowed his daughter to urge him deeper, he wondered how he could ever love someone more than her after this day.

Karina struggled and whimpered. It took a few tries to get it in, but at last her daddy came to rest inside a panting and moaning young blonde with his pelvis right against the soft mound of her pussy.

“OHHHhhhmygod… it’s so freaking deep dad…Oh, Ohfuck… is it in?”

“It is sweetie; you did such a good job.”

Jae allowed his baby to catch her breath while he simply savored the feeling of her perfect tunnel hugging him so tightly it consumed him.

“You’re so tiny and tight Karina…ohhgod… your daddy’s cock has never felt this good with anyone before sweetie.”

Karina was finally able to open her eyes all the way again and really look at her dad while he was lodged into her, as far as he could go.

“You’re really inside me, daddy… and you took my virginity…”

Jae nodded gratefully. He couldn’t help his cock swelling as he considered the reality of being his own daughter’s first.

“I’m so glad we did what we’re not allowed to dad… even if you’re fucking me without a condom” she teased.

“I guess I’m not exactly fucking you yet sweetie, this would be more like fucking you.”

He withdrew a few inches and gently slid them back in. Karina cried out, but he could see how hard she was trying to be strong for her father. He knew if he just helped her adjust a little more, he could have her moaning and bucking and begging him not to stop.

“Fuckdaddy… unhh it hurts, but it’s feeling better. Why couldn’t your cock be a little smaller?”

Jae smiled and reached around to grab her backside as he began urging into her consistently. Her perfect little asscheek conformed to his hand as he squeezed it - yet another newfound asset he looked forward to enjoying thoroughly.

Karina took a decent amount of time before her father saw the pain of adjusting to her first cock begin to melt away. It was replaced by a fire in her eyes, a desperation that said she wasn’t sure what sex was all about but wanted so badly for her daddy to teach her.

“Ohjeez…God it feels good daddy…unhhh… it’s so far inside me, I feel like you’re filling me all the way up.”

The way she talked to him, that sweet voice speaking words of incest and lust… it was doing things inside Jae’s brain he’d never encountered before. He felt his daughter’s body against him and could sense, simply from the touch of her skin, all of the features he’d been admiring for years. He kissed her, surprising her with the contact but quickly leading to a full-on make-out session while they came together at the hips.

“Oh sweetie… ughh… I’m the luckiest dad in the world… god, you feel so good.”

Like she was made for it, Karina widened her legs little by little, and her father fucked her more thoroughly. Remembering the first time he was atop her, thrusting away with her legs spread apart and her cries of “daddy” filling the room around them, was a memory that could get him hard in an instant for many years to come.

But for now, as his little girl wrapped her legs around him and took his thrusts so well it made him proud, Karina and her father got utterly lost in each other. Kissing… breathing…groping… they let everything in their lives fall away but for each other - locked together in an incestuous coupling that seemed to conquer all.

And in that coupling, with Jae’s hips thudding against his daughter in breast-shaking and powerful motions, both of them forgot themselves.

With little warning, Jae felt the unstoppable sensation of a shockwave coming from deep within him. He was beyond thinking of changing course. Karina, too, hadn’t even considered that there was still some ability to be safer, even if her daddy wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Oh God, your dad’s gonna… oh Karina…” Jae breathed as his hips connected with her over and over. He felt the teenager’s feet gently urging him from behind - her whole body was clasping around him and begging him to continue. He rolled his hips just right, sliding inside Karina’s pussy while pressuring her clit as well.

“Daddy… I feel…unhhh… light-headed…ohmygod… keep fucking me like that.”

There was no accounting for time when Karina’s father might have chosen to pull out of her and perhaps spray his load across her bare, beautiful abdomen. Instead of that, he felt it well up from within and shoot directly inside her before he even knew what hit him.

Karina, pleasured into the next universe as she was, didn’t realize what was happening until a bolt of warmth filled her even more deeply than she’d felt the very tip of her father’s cock. He had buried into her and something more copious than the pre-cum was spurting out into her teenage pussy.

“Daddy… oh my god… I can feel…oh…oh… fuck daddYYEEE…” She wasn’t prepared for it. She wasn’t ready for any of it, and the quickly escalating climax that Karina had been feeling was suddenly upon her right as she thought a second spray of her father’s sperm inside her.

Jae bucked as he and his little girl clutched each other tightly. She was digging her nails into his back and her pussy seemed to spasm in rhythm with the spurting of semen from his tip. Her cries and the way she needed him so badly were beyond Jae’s ability to describe or comprehend.

They hadn’t discussed whether it would be okay for Karina’s father to unleash a load of life-giving sperm inside her, let alone one so plentiful it could only be meant for his eighteen-year-old daughter. Karina felt her father swell considerably with each pump of his spunk.

After their clamoring and moaning against each other’s lips, the two were silent but for periodic gasps and whimpers. At the same time, they experienced their first orgasm together and then recovered from it. The build-up had been short, but neither Karina nor her father could imagine waiting any longer for the release, which had found them perfectly in sync.

“Daddy, that was… that was…” but even the rambunctious blonde was short on words.

Karina had tried to speak before her breath returned to her.

When it did, she managed to ask, “Is THAT what my pictures made you want to do to me?”

Jae laughed aloud, wincing as the shake made his cock adjust slightly, still buried in his daughter’s pussy.

“To be honest, sweetie, that’s just the start. And it wasn’t your pictures, baby, it was you.”

Karina’s eyes widened, and she broke out a beautiful smile, which he was relieved to see given the circumstances.

“You didn’t say you were going to cum in my pussy daddy…”

“I know, sweetheart… You just felt so good, I didn’t realize I was doing it until…”

“Shh…” Karina stopped him with a finger to his lips, “it’s okay, when I felt your sperm in me it made me cum so hard too daddy… I liked it.”

Karina pecked her father on the lips before continuing to praise him,

“God, I never thought… I didn’t know I could cum like that… it was much different than when I… you know… masturbate.” the teenager admitted.

Jae found it adorable that she would be bashful in the absurd and forbidden situation for which they were both very much responsible.

“I’m glad you liked it baby, because I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard either, your pussy is perfect, Karina.”

“I think you came… like… a lot, daddy. I can feel it everywhere in me.”

The two of them looked down where Jae was still sunk into his daughter’s pussy. Ever so slightly, her abdomen was mounded along the path of her dad inside her, and they both focused on how incredible it was to feel the very sperm that had made her, along with the cock it came from, now definitively within her eighteen-year-old quim.

“Can I look, Daddy? Will you take it out?”

Not wanting to comply, but also hoping to see his excited daughter appeased, Jae slowly withdrew his cock from her. It seemed to take forever to slide out, but when it did Karina’s young pussy attempted immediately to return to its original tightness.

As Karina’s lips pursed back together, they saw the result of their lovemaking peeking out. Where at first, it was just a bead of thick white; soon an entire glob of semen was emitted, joined quickly by a second flowing from right from Karina’s tiny quim.

“Oh… my… god. Daddy, is that all your sperm?”

“Yes, sweetie, looks like I’ve made quite a mess of you, huh?”

Seeing that look of pure wonder in his daughter’s eyes while she watched his spunk drip out, Jae wondered when he’d wake up from the dream that had been that afternoon with Karina.

The only thing to stop it was a quick motion of her dad, who planted his tip safely below and let the cum coat him as it leaked from his daughter.

“Those could all be my brothers and sisters… technically… right, Daddy? If I didn’t start taking birth control on Monday.”

The naughty little thing, she was rubbing it in…wait…"WHAT?“

"What daddy, I asked if your cum is technically my brothers and sis…”

“No, the other thing, what did you say about your birth control?”

“Oh, that it’s a good thing I started taking birth control on Monday, although I don’t think mom knew when we went to the doctor that I’d be getting it for you!”

Karina saw an alarm in his eyes.

“What is it, Daddy?”

“Karina, I know you always say that I don’t know enough about girl-problems, but…”

He looked down at the cum-coated opening of his daughter’s pussy, at her glistening body and the little smile that she still couldn’t seem to shake, and reluctantly told her the truth.

“Sweetie, birth control takes a few weeks to start working. Didn’t they tell you that when you were there with your mother?”

“Well, yes, maybe, but I was mad at her dragging me there because of ONE boy who she thought I was hooking up with. I wasn’t really listening very closely because I thought it was stupid.”

The reality set in. Karina had been on birth control for a total of two days - far from enough to be having unprotected sex AND taking such a copious infusion as what he’d given her. So he’d just filled his own daughter with an incredible amount of sperm, and the only safe assumption was that she was entirely vulnerable to becoming pregnant.

Karina looked worried… “I didn’t know daddy… I’m sorry… ohgod, and I’m right in the riskiest part of my cycle, I think.”

“Hey hey hey,” Jae quickly consoled her, not wanting to let her go into a panic, “don’t worry at all, sweetie, there are a lot of things we can do. Remember, it’s much safer to have sex with me… because I will always take care of you.”

“You promise… I just… they tell you all these horror stories about getting pregnant and stuff…”

Jae had to chuckle: “I remember those videos—they’re probably still showing you kids the same ones from when I went to school.”

Karina seemed to be looking for something more comforting than that.

“How many of those videos talked about girls having sex with their fathers? Huh?”

Of course they didn’t, and Karina squinted speculatively at him.

“None of them, I guess…”

“Exactly, so let me take care of you then, okay, honey, just trust me?”

Karina smiled, “I do trust you, Daddy.”

This whole time, Jae had noticed his cock’s refusal to soften. As soon as his daughter’s vulnerability entered the mix, he stiffened.

Karina noticed too. “Does your cock stay hard like that for long daddy?”

She reached down to it, feeling its sticky coating on her fingers as they wrapped around his shaft.

“It usually doesn’t do this, baby, it just means I’m still aroused and I still want to have sex with you…”

The revelation stunned her. She was now filled with the incestuous and incredibly risky sperm of her father, and he seemed ready to repeat the very act that could lead to her becoming pregnant with the child of her own father.

“But we can't… not again… right, daddy?”

Jae seemed to consider this seriously. For starters, he had only taken his baby girl in one ofthe many positions he intended to show her for her first time. Secondly, he’d so rarely had the opportunity to go again immediately, and the hard cock she now held in her hand seemed to be daring him to.

“Actually, sweetie, I’m not sure it would be any riskier than what we’ve already done…”

Karina didn’t seem to follow.

“I think we can both agree that all of this,” he motioned, wiggling his tip around the teen’s entrance and disturbing the pool of cum that had settled there, “is about as big as our risk is going to get.”

Again, that puppy-dog look of expectation that she wore so well flashed across her face.

“So… you’d fuck me again even though you know you could get me pregnant?”

“In a heartbeat,” Jae admitted proudly.

“Oh God… that would be naughty, Dad… bad of us.”

But Karina seemed to be simply talking to herself. She continued holding onto her father’s shaft like a comforting toy she needed to hold to feel safe. She stroked it instinctively while her father watched the wheels turning in her head.

“Would you cum inside me again too daddy?”

“I could… if you wanted me to.”

“Unhhh…” Karina cooed. He hadn’t even touched her, but the teen’s body quivered nonetheless. “Oh God… I can’t believe I’m considering this…”

Karina sat up to meet her father and lingered close before kissing him. Somehow, magically between them, Karina had managed to get ahead of her father, and as their tongues met each other’s, Jae’s cum-slathered tip found his daughter’s opening once more.

He leaned back on the chair, letting Karina follow and allowing her to guide just how far inside her she would allow his cock on this second round. Feeling what a sticky mess it was between them, both Karina and her daddy were immensely turned on by the copious remainder of Jae’s orgasm, easing the insertion into her. Again, her 18-year-old pussy resisted him, but an eager Karina was not deterred.

Having his daughter in his lap like this was much better than before when she was still wearing her swimsuit. Instead of moving up and down innocently as she had been, now every movement urged her father’s penis further into her impossibly tight body.

She seemed content to lift a few inches and fall back into her father’s embrace, squeezing her breasts against him each time. Jae allowed her to do exactly as she pleased, and he took the opportunity to explore her body with his hands once more.

Unhhh…dad… I love when you touch me like that…" she moaned.

Jae pawed at her like an animal, his fingers gripping all over her back, at her sides, her hips and resting finally with a handful each of her butt. He spread her cheeks gently as he gripped her.

“Karina…honey… will you do something for me?” Jae hissed.

“Of course, daddy,” she said, slowing her movements and looking into his eyes, “anything.”

“How you were moving your hips before when you were posing for me… could you…unghh… could you do that now?”

Karina thought for a second and then broke out into a gleeful smirk. She nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted.

Jae felt her bottom half begin a different routine. It started as a tiny circle that she drew around the cock that was planted firmly at its center. Then she repeated it, widening the arc and realizing that if she moved just right, she could let her daddy slide in and out of her with each rotation.

Holding her like that, Jae felt his daughter move in a completely unreasonable way; he should be forbidden. To experience it fully, Jae leaned back on the couch and directed his daughter to continue her efforts atop him.

His eyes ravaged her. He watched the entrancing motion of her hips, feeling each sensitive withdrawal and insertion back into Karina’s dripping pussy. He heard the slick, subtle sound of their junction and the incestuous fluids that were combining there. His daughter’s presence enveloped him.

“Like this, Daddy? Unghh fuck… is this what you wanted?”

“That’s exactly what I meant, baby…mnphhh… you’re doing it perfectly.”

Jae mentally noted just how majestic his daughter looked in that position while he watched her for another moment. He tried to experience each sense individually: her moans, the embrace of her young tunnel, the sight of her abdomen flexing with the effort of each gyration.

Karina put her hands on her father’s chest, leaning in to kiss him, but not failing to lift her hips up and down while she did. He moaned into her mouth, and she into his until they broke the kiss, and Karina looked intently at him as she tried to keep her hips moving.

The sight of his daughter’s tits squeezed together by her arms and thrust toward him warranted only one response. He leaned in and kissed around each nipple before taking one at a time into his mouth and sucking on them, or nibbling - whichever he preferred. Karina had no idea just how pleasurable that could be.

In a matter of seconds, Jae felt his daughter’s hips begin bucking a bit wildly. He took hold of them, knowing from the glisten of sweat on her forehead that she might weaken before the full brunt of her orgasm could consume her. With daddy’s help, that wouldn’t happen.

He lifted Karina’s backside for her while still doing his best to keep one of her nipples between his lips. His teenage daughter howled, even attempting to retreat, but he held her tight and refused to stop fucking her until she begged him.

“Daddy…ohfuck… wait… I can't… I can’t brea…unhhhh please daddy please!”

She tried to sit up on her knees as she spasmed, making it harder to thrust fully into her, but he managed. Incredibly, Jae felt wetness dripping from his daughter’s already drenched pussy as he bucked into her, knowing more stimulation would make her orgasm all the more intense.

He wore a proud smile as his little girl came for the second time, feeling her lose control of her body as she cried out and her pussy clamped almost painfully down on him. Karina was the most dangerously beautiful thing he’d ever seen in that never-ending orgasm. When it finally released its hold on her, she slumped down, panting for air and quivering uncontrollably. Jae received her in loving arms.

When she recovered enough, Karina put her palms on her father’s strong chest, feeling his muscles beneath them as she propped herself up and shook back her messy, blonde hair.

“Okay… holy crap dad…”

Jae chuckled at the first words she’d managed in minutes.

“I couldn’t breathe, and you kept holding me and fucking me and then… I think I might have blacked out, Daddy!” She hit him on the chest like it was all his fault. Perhaps it was.

“Maybe that’s all true, but something tells me you kinda liked it… at least a little bit?” he queried.

Karina growled, hitting him with a closed fist on the chest again before cracking a frustrated smile.

“Urghh… yes, I liked it, but you’re still mean.”

Karina curled to look down between them. Her little pelvis was pushed to the base of her daddy’s cock as she rested in his lap. She could see its incredible width spreading her open, and their connection was now further coated with her fluids.

“God, daddy, I’m so wet. Is sex always so messy?” she asked in a way that only an eighteen-year-old daughter could.

“Usually it’s only like this when two people are incredibly aroused, sweetie, but I’m sure that my swimmers from earlier aren’t helping.”

“Speaking of which, daddy… I thought you said you were going to cum inside me again?”

Jae’s brain buzzed to hear her so casually mention that.

“I will, sweetie, I just wasn’t ready yet.”

“Oh, you want to fuck your daughter some more?” Karina asked, moving her hips around ever so slightly to tease him, “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

“Not even close, baby, I have lots more things to show you.”

Karina bounced with youthful excitement, and despite the temptation to let her continue doing that, Jae quickly lifted him and his baby off the couch. The beautiful blonde squealed as he picked her up like it was nothing. Ohhh… and the way he managed to keep his big cock deep inside her the whole time… Karina’s body shivered at the feeling.

Jae had never had sex in such a position, nor standing in the middle of the family room. Mostly, he’d never been with such a small, pretty young thing that he could easily maneuver against him. Karina squealed again as her dad manhandled her expertly and she felt his penis sliding in and out of her.

“Mnhhh… daddy… you’re so strong,” she flattered him. He pulled her close for a tangled kiss and humped into her a few more times before moving her to the floor.

“How about you show me that pose like you were before, sweetie?”

“Which one, Daddy - on my back, or my knees?”

“Knees,” Jae stated assuredly.

“Mnhh… okay, Karina said, finally feeling her daddy’s cock pulling out of her. When it was fully revealed, a little 'puff’ of air followed, exhibiting just how tight Jae’s little girl was.

"What’s this called again, Daddy?” Karina asked as got ready once again for her handsome father to fuck her in a new position.

“It’s called doggy honey.”

She giggled. Karina knew what it was called, but couldn’t help baiting her father, “So I’m your little doggy daddy? Arf arf!”

Jae rolled his eyes - hearing that coupled with the way she was swaying her upturned ass was yet another scene he couldn’t have imagined if he tried. Karina felt her dad slowly spread her legs as he knelt between them. His hands came down in a clap on her cheeks, and the eighteen-year-old whimpered as he massaged her, spreading her little lips a few times in the process.

“Are you gonna put it back in me?” She baited him, “Your little puppy is waiting for your BIG cock to be inside her daddy.”

Karina tried to go on to make another mocking little bark, but her dad managed to turn it into a howl as he lined up with her puffy little pussy and sunk a few inches into her first. Amazingly, Karina helped him by leaning back into his thrust and meeting his pelvis with the soft cushion of her young, pert ass.

“Unhhhh… fuck… daddy it feels really big this way… jeez… did your cock grow even bigger?”

“No sweetie, your body is just a little…mphhhh… more tense this way. Try to relax.”

“It’s okay, it still feels good…ooohh arf arf… don’t worry,” Karina joked.

Jae wasn’t worried. He knew that, like every other moment with Karina, the two of them were a perfect fit. Well, her teenage pussy definitely took some convincing, but with each thrust into her from behind, Jae became more convinced that he’d brought her into this world for the very purpose they were now playing out together.

He reached forward and took one of Karina’s breasts in his hand. As they established a rhythm, Karina could see why her dad wanted her in this position. She felt vulnerable and on display for him. He had complete control of her body and all she could do was stay upright and accept his incredible cock.

He groped her needily, and Karina rewarded him with the cries that were clear, beautiful melodies to her father. The young blonde hardly even realized it until she felt her dad helping her all the way to the floor, so that her nude little body joined the carpet, tickling her skin.

Jae pushed his daughter’s legs together so she was a long, slender line on the carpet, and he straddled her with his cock still inserted in the perfect little cleft between her legs. She was softer, more accepting of his thrusts, and he could see her breasts spreading out to the sides of her body each time he came down atop her with an audible smack.

“Ohfuck daddy… this is …mnhhh… this is incredible.”

A twinge of guilt prodded him as Jae held his little girl in place, but something about her helpless little form, moaning and writhing as he impaled her from above, was incredibly arousing. He grabbed her hands and pulled them around behind her back, restraining her further.

Karina was surprised at him. It wasn’t like her father to control her like this, but that was likely the reason she could feel her body singing with pleasure. Her youthful quim leaked even more as her daddy dominated her, relentlessly sliding his cock into the small opening left between her locked thighs.

Fucking his little girl in such a way brought Jae closer than he’d planned to orgasm in no time. He finally let go of her, just when Karina and her father were both starting to feel that now-familiar buzz of sensation in their outermost extremities. He slowed his thrusts to a halt, and then reluctantly slid out of her perfect little pussy.

Jae rolled his beautiful daughter over beneath him, and marveled at the flushed smile she bore, stretching out beneath him - naked as the day she was born.

“Well, that was interesting, Daddy…you liked holding me down, didn’t you?”

“I did, baby, you were so sexy I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Karina reached out for her father’s cock one more time, holding it and shaking her head no as she gripped him appreciatively.

“No, it was really hot Dad… you almost made me cum again!”

“Me too, sweetie,” he admitted, “just a little more and I would have, but I wanted to look at your pretty face when I did.”

Karina blushed, curling up and bathing in the gaze of her loving father above her.

“How about you show me that one other naughty position, and I’ll fill up that naughty little pussy of yours with all of your brothers and sisters, like last time.”

“I can’t wait, Daddy…” Karina breathed, gracefully maneuvering a leg to either side of her father. When she spoke again, she was already lifting her hips up off the ground for her daddy like she had in her bathing suit. “I’m all yours.”

This time, her wet little pussy was pointing right at him, and Jae wasted little time sitting up on his knees and wrapping his hands around his daughter’s suspended hips. This was the very position he’d imagined joining her in before, and as his tip wavered over her warm little pussy, he was immeasurably glad to play out his fantasy.

Karina and her father both breathed in sharply as he slid into her 18-year-old pussy again. He supported his baby as she held herself up, causing her back to arch and her entrance to form the perfect angle with his invading cock. With such a display of her breathtaking, sprawled beauty, Jae knew he would not last long.

Karina flexed her body as best she could, letting her father once again build up a good tempo until he was fucking her hard enough to shake her firm breasts mightily with each sway of her body.

She was just too incredible. He thrust into her, and in all too short a time, the familiar sensation of losing control returned..

“Sweetie, I might cum soon… you’re too much for your dad.”

“Good daddy…unghhh… I’m really close too…”

He felt her doing her best to move her acrobatic hips along with his.

“Mnhh… fuck… my pussy’s all ready for your sperm daddy…”

Another thrust landed, and with it the perilous proximity of Jae’s orgasm, approaching all the faster as his daughter’s words encouraged him.

“Right in the risky part of my cycle,” she continued. “Oh God, it’s so big…mnhh… and I guess I’m not really on birth control either… unhhhh… am I daddy?”

“You’re a naughty little girl Karina…fuck honey… it almost sounds like you want me to get you pregnant…”

The two of them were fucking each other with reckless abandon - Karina’s hips rotating as best she could, and Jae greeting her again and again with forceful, and appropriate thrusts.

“Mnhhh you already could have gotten me pregnant the first time daddy… ughh fuck your penis is so big… there’s no harm in trying again, right?”

She knew that wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but it didn’t matter. Karina could see from the look on his face that they would, in fact, 'try’ again very soon.

“That’s it, daddy…” she managed. She’d been focusing so much on making her father cum, that she hardly realized the spider web of electricity slowly overtaking her body.

“Cum in your little girl daddy…mhhh… shoot all your sticky sperm in my pussy… I want you to!”

Jae grunted loudly, shoving so deeply into his daughter that she felt him reach a point where he could go no further. She waited, her body begging for the swell of his cock and then…

Karina felt her father’s already massive member grow inside of her before it bathed her cervix with a stream of life-giving semen. Karina simply couldn’t bear how wonderful and forbidden it was to feel the stuff that made her eighteen years earlier filling her own pussy.

She toppled with her father, seeing the desperate look in his eyes as he fought to keep up, bucking until she came with him. As his cock spurted again inside his baby, Jae got his wish.

The two of them were perfectly synchronous. Each time Karina’s tunnel clenched down on her father, it coaxed another gush of semen into her. They worked together to keep the teenager’s hips aloft as her father mashed against her, throbbing as deeply inside her as he could.

Always a voracious little one, Karina tried rotating her hips around the way she had when posing for her daddy before. Only this time, with his pumping member inside of her, and it was sensitive as hell. Jae managed to stay upright, but only just. His daughter’s incredible bottom worked out another few generous ropes of his cum as it gyrated around him.

Accidentally, Karina moved just a bit too ambitiously and her daddy’s cock found its way out of her. To her delight, it had just a little more white gunk to reward her with, which squirted oh-so-beautifully across her perfect mound and the smooth skin just below her belly button. Karina liked seeing it on her - a warm and welcome depiction of the much more abundant amount inside.

“It’s dripping…” she whined.

Karina couldn’t see quite as well as her father, but she could feel it. As he regained himself, Jae watched his fateful load gleaming at Karina’s swollen entrance. Laid is back the way she was; his daughter is doing a better job of keeping it all inside her, but Jae helps her out by covering the exit once again with his tip.

“There,” he said, “now you just have to stay like that forever and all my cum will stay inside of you.” Jae couldn’t help thinking he would be fine with that.

“Not all of it,” Karina said, looking at the little mishap of spunk that hadn’t made it inside her. To her father’s utter disbelief, she ran two fingers through the streaks and brought their coated tips into her mouth.

“I knew it would taste good.” She said, delighted with herself and the look on her dad’s face.

Jae finally collapsed, landing with a thud at his daughter’s side and rolling her toward him.

They simply stared for a while, one searching the other for signs of how they were thinking and feeling. Before she went crazy, Karina spoke up.

“What are you thinking?” She asked her father.

It was a question he’d heard many a time, but it was rarely one he had a good answer for. This time, though, he didn’t even have to consider it.

“I was just thinking that I don’t know what I’ll do now that I’ve had you.”

“What do you mean, Daddy?” she prodded inquisitively.

“I mean that I just know there won’t be anyone I love so much for… well, forever.”

Karina beamed. She nuzzled against her father like his little puppy and swam in the loveliness of his words. The warmth of her daddy’s orgasm slowly seeping down across the back of her thigh was replaced by the utter passion of his loving embrace.

“I know I’m only eighteen, but I don’t want you to love anyone else like that, daddy…” Karina said bashfully. I want us to be together. Is that okay?“

God, she was so beautiful, inside and out. "Of course that’s 'okay,’ sweetie. I told you I’d always take care of you. But I won’t get in the way of you finding someone who loves you, to have babies with, and all that.”

“That’s not fair, Daddy, you said you won’t find anyone else, but I have to?”

“No… I guess not… no that’s not what I meant…” There she was again, quicker than he by a long shot.

“Besides… I’m pretty sure that I might have already found someone to have babies with…” she implied, seeing her dad taken aback, “he just took my virginity and came in my pussy TWO times when he knew I could get pregnant.”

“Now you’re not being fair, I didn’t know the first time!” Jae rebutted.

Karina gave him a hard look, holding it and making him worry for a second. Then she cracked, feeling guilty and not wanting to give her father too much grief.

“I know you didn’t daddy, but you still fucked me again didn’t you?”

“I guess I did, and I’d do it again 1,000 times,” Jae told her decisively.

“Only 1,000 times? I’m only 18, Daddy, and now that I’m not a virgin anymore, I’m going to need you to 'take care of me’ a lot, I think.”

Karina squirmed in her father’s arms. Feeling her naked little body against his, Jae had little doubt he would be able to keep up with his daughter’s demands.

“And I think you’ll have to keep filling me up with your sperm, daddy, my orgasms were SO intense when you did.”

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh?” Jae chided.

“We both are,” Karina answered.

She and her father fell silent until the magnetism of their passion for each other brought them together. They kissed and touched in ways that made Jae feel as youthful as his beautiful daughter.

Thoughts of what came next for them hadn’t entered either of their minds yet. After an hour of lying together and talking quietly about everything and nothing, the two admitted defeat to the necessity of cleaning themselves up before anyone else could get home.

Karina yelped as sticky cum that had pooled between her legs trickled down one of them. That sight, of his naked little girl dripping with the utterly exposing remnants of their unprotected sex, was one he hoped to replicate again and again.

There was so much in store for them, more than likely some difficulty if they really wanted to be together, but the satisfied prance of Karina and the loving admiration with which he followed her, was all the two of them needed in that moment.

“I have another shoot a week from now,” Karina announced at the dinner table, only an hour or two after she and her father had showered together and reluctantly ended their day of temptation, lust, and lines crossed.

“That’s great, honey, where at?” Asked her mom, sounding disinterested.

“It’s on the beach, and it’s for five days to ensure good weather! It’ll be like a little vacation.” Karina said excitedly.

“Well, your dad will have to take you then, because I’m far too busy with work right now.”

“I know, Mom. Dad and I talked about it, and he will take care of me on my shoots now.”

“Sure, that’s fine with me. Are you sure you’re okay with that, Jae?” his wife asked.

Karina smiled widely, but the naughtiness in her eyes was only for him. If only they knew that the little blonde was sitting there with her daddy’s cum swimming about inside her…

“Yeah, I’m fine with it. Somebody needs to be there to make sure our daughter is safe.”

His words stunned Karina. But then… mom couldn’t know that their version of 'safe’ was daddy filling her eighteen-year-old pussy with potent sperm and full awareness of the risk. He only glanced at her briefly to assert his meaning, but Karina caught it, and the warmth he’d deposited within her seemed to return.

“The good news is, Daddy, we’ll have multiple days off to explore together.”

She looked directly at him, but his clever little daughter seemed as good at this as he was.

“And maybe get up to some trouble?” Jae continued the banter in front of his unsuspecting wife and son.

“I don’t like the sound of that at all.” His wife stated, but he knew she couldn’t possibly understand all the trouble he was imagining with Karina.

“I do,” said Karina, her words only for her father.

[ilovolderman]

The Secret Notes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky leaves little notes for you.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, cute doodles

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". It doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5. thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

It all started one afternoon when you fell asleep on the couch, a book slipping from your hand. Bucky passed by and found you there, peaceful and unaware. Smiling to himself, he gently picked up the book and noticed the page you’d been reading.

With a quiet laugh, he scribbled a note on a scrap of paper:

“You stopped here. Heroine’s rule: naps first, saving the world later. - B”

He slid the note inside the book, marking the page, and placed it on the table beside you. As he left, he couldn’t help but smile at the idea of you finding it when you woke up.

The next day, you found the note in your book, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was silly, but it made your heart warm. You had to reply, of course.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, you wrote:

“A nap is a hero’s secret weapon, Bucky. Thanks for the reminder. If I do end up saving the world today, I’ll be sure to credit you. - Y/N”

You tucked the note inside his jacket pocket, hoping he’d get a good laugh when he found it. It felt so simple, so small, but the thought of sharing little moments like this with him made everything else seem a little brighter.

It wasn’t long before the notes became a daily exchange. They started off funny—sometimes quoting ridiculous lines from movies, or making playful jokes about the Avengers’ absurdly weird missions. You would find them in your locker, under your coffee mug, or tucked inside your boots. They never failed to make you smile.

Even now, after months together, he still took the time to leave you notes and little reminders.

After a particularly brutal mission, you found another note tucked into the pocket of your jacket. You nearly missed it in the rush to get ready for a debriefing. But when you unfolded it, you found it written on a torn piece of notebook paper, and a doodle of a sleeping cat at the bottom.

“You’re allowed to rest, you know. I’ll guard your coffee while you nap.”

You smiled before you could stop yourself, warmth blooming in your chest. It had been a rough couple of days—bruised ribs, no sleep. The note felt like a soft exhale in the middle of chaos.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one in the hallway.

“Whatcha got there?”

You spun around to see Sam squinting at the piece of paper now very obviously in your hand. And before you could shove it back into your pocket, the man had already snatched it like he was intercepting a rogue football.

“Sam, come on—”

He blinked and read it once. Then again. Then a third time.

 ““You’re allowed to rest, you know. I’ll guard your coffee while you nap”...and there’s a little cat at the bottom. Why is there a cat?! WHO DRAWS CATS?!”

You stared at him, trying very hard not to look like someone caught hiding a secret. “You done?”

“Oh, I’m so not done,” Sam said, holding the note like it was radioactive. “This is a nap-themed love letter, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a...friendly reminder.”

“With a doodle,” he said, as if that was damning evidence in a court of law. “Who writes you sweet notes about coffee and naps after a mission? That’s like—domestic.”

“Maybe I wrote it to myself,” you tried.

“You’re not a cat doodler. I know your vibe. You don’t doodle.”

You grabbed for the note. He dodged you.

“Sam—give it.”

“I will not. I’m onto something here.”

Just then, Bucky strolled around the corner with a cup of coffee in hand and a granola bar between his teeth, looking way too casual.

Sam froze.

You froze.

Bucky stopped mid-chew, immediately sensing the chaos in the air. “…Did I miss something?”

Sam, eyes narrowed like a detective in a sitcom, turned slowly toward him.

“Barnes.”

Bucky blinked. “Wilson.”

Sam raised the note like it was a badge. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

Bucky looked at the paper. Then at you. Then back to Sam.

There was a half-second pause.

And then Bucky shrugged. “Cute cat.”

You choked on a laugh and immediately turned it into a cough.

Sam squinted. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? ‘Cute cat’?”

Bucky popped the last of the granola bar into his mouth, completely unfazed. “You’re getting worked up over a doodle.”

Sam pointed at both of you, eyes wide with dramatic betrayal. “Okay, I don’t know what is going on, but something is going on. I feel it in my soul.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe you just need a nap.”

“I—NO! No, you don’t get to use the nap line on me! That’s part of the conspiracy!”

Sam was already walking away. “I’ll guard your coffee, Wilson,” Bucky called over his shoulder, deadpan.

The hallway finally settled into silence after Sam’s echoing footsteps disappeared around the corner. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

Bucky lingered beside you, coffee in hand. His eyes flicked toward you, and the smallest smile curved at the corner of his lips.

“So… cat doodles are suspicious now?”

You laughed under your breath. “Apparently. Next time, maybe draw a dragon or something. Keep him guessing.”

“Well,” he said, voice low and amused. “That could’ve gone worse.”

You glanced down at the note in your hand, then back at him. “I mean... he didn’t accuse you of writing love sonnets. So, yeah—definitely could’ve been worse.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, leaning casually against the wall. “Should I stop? The notes, I mean. I didn’t mean to... cause a scene.”

You looked up at him, warmth already blooming in your chest. “No. Don’t stop.”

His brow quirked slightly, curious. “No?”

“They’re one of the best parts of my day,” you said honestly, your voice soft. “They make the hard days easier, and the quiet ones feel full. I’d rather risk a hundred Sam-level interrogations than miss even one of them.”

A grin pulled at Bucky’s mouth, slow and sweet. “Yeah?”

You gave him a playful nudge. “Even if Sam tries to launch a full-scale investigation.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let him. He doesn’t scare me.”

Then, softer, with that familiar gentleness he always saved just for you, he added, “I’ll keep leaving them, then. Every note, every doodle... they’re little pieces of me. And you’re the only one I want finding them.”

Your smile widened, heart fluttering in that helpless, happy kind of way.

“I guess that makes you my favorite mystery author,” you said lightly.

Bucky leaned in, his shoulder brushing yours. “Only for you, doll.”

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a folded note—you’d planned to tuck it under his pillow later, but something made you decide to give it to him right now. You held it out to him, your smile a little shy.

He opened it slowly. Inside, your handwriting was a little messier than usual, but still clearly yours.

“You’ve got a way of making everything seem a little brighter, even when it’s a rough day. I’m lucky for it.”

Bucky looked up at you, lips parted just slightly. For a long second, he said nothing.

And then he stepped closer, closing the small space between you. His hand brushed yours, slow and warm, and he laced your fingers together.

“You’re gonna destroy me with these notes,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned into him, heart full and beating a little too fast. “Guess we’re even.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead—gentle, lingering, like a promise he never needed to say out loud. Then he tucked your note carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket, where all the best ones lived.

“Don’t tell Sam,” you whispered with a smile.

Meanwhile in the kitchen...

Sam sat at the table, muttering to himself with a pen tucked behind his ear and a spiral notebook open in front of him. On the top of the page in large, underlined letters:

Case #109: WHO THE HELL IS Y/N DATING???

Underneath it were four bullet points:

suspicious nap note

Bucky is too chill

cat doodle = code??

is Steve somehow involved???

This was war now.

And you and Bucky? You were winning.

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd @poodleofstardust @poodleofstardust

next part

[attalew]

how robert reynolds quietly shows you that he’s in love with you

robert reynolds x thunderbolts!reader

authors note avengers tower fics are so back baby

it’s hardly intentional at first

you two were bound to grow closer when you began working on the same team, living in the same tower

it begins platonically, though very very shyly, as he is still trying to grow used to not being so lonely all the time

there’s small things you don’t notice

how he tidies your shoes in the hallway when passing your room, places your lost items somewhere where he knows you will see them, stocks the pantry full of your favorite snacks

his only intention, originally, was to be a good friend

you and yelena were now the closest people to him, he wasn’t going to risk messing that up by not looking out for you in the only ways he knew how to

then he started to notice things about you that not only warmed his heart with friendship, but made it drop in a way he couldn’t recognize

how you blinked slowly like a kitten after a long, tiring, mission

how you would reach an arm over to massage your own tense back, while he silently wished he could relieve all your aches and pains

and how his fingers would itch to patch your wounds when they were revealed by the lifting of your shirt

his platonic care turned so quickly into something that he didn’t want to put a name to

something he was terrified of

he became stealthier with his acts of service, he wanted to go unnoticed, he was worried that he would scare you away

but, eventually, you did notice

it was game night in the tower. the whole team crowded around a coffee table that had monopoly sat atop of it, the 7 of them nearly reaching the player limit

bob was trying to stay focused on the tense game unfolding in front of him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how your knee kept brushing his own, or how defeated you looked when you landed on john’s property, handing over more than half your money

so he cheated

he wasn’t winning this game, and he didn’t really care too

he had never been the competitive type

so, naturally, he slowly split his stash, and snuck it into your lap without anyone but you noticing

your widened eyes shot up at him in shock while his cheeks burned at your attention

you looked around carefully before leaning closer to be better heard by him

“robby, are you done playing?” there was a slight concern on your face

“i’ll stick around, just thought it’d be nice to see you win.” he shrugged and avoided eye contact while your features softened

he nearly jumped out of his skin when you placed a hand on his knee and squeezed it in gratitude

and, of course you won

a grand sweep that had john slamming his head down onto the table in front of him, and had you pulling bob into your arms so tightly that he could feel your heart beating against his own

he decided then that maybe a little anxiety was worth being a bit louder with his actions towards you

and maybe one day he would notice why his laundry was always washed when he swore he forgot to bring his hamper down

why his books were always mysteriously bookmarked when he fell asleep with them laying on his chest

and why he was always the first one you looked at when you walked into a room

thank you for reading! requests are open!

[shaiyasstuff]

how to accidentally catch feelings while baby-sitting a man-child | sylus

synopsis : You were just a quiet, book-loving college student trying to survive academia and avoid emotional damage—until Sylus crashed into your life like a hot, smug hurricane who never left. content : fluff, college!au, sylus being drunk(not really), crackhead energy writing, comedy

It was a Saturday night—which, in your world, meant a sacred ritual of staying in your dorm, reading a good book, and letting Spotify decide your fate with its chaotic shuffle.

A peaceful, introvert’s haven.

Your roommate had long since abandoned you for brighter, sweatier pastures, hollering, “I’m gonna get laid tonight!” as she tottered out in an outfit that could’ve doubled as a napkin.

You’d only offered her a solemn nod and returned to your paperback and playlist, cocooned in your sofa bed like a content little hermit.

Nothing could disturb your peace.

Until something did.

A knock.

You blinked at the door. Once. Twice. Frowned. Who knocks past 10 p.m.? Who dares?

Your mind immediately went to one person—your best friend, Sylus. The same Sylus who had texted earlier, bragging about some frat party he was going to “grace with his presence.” You had rolled your eyes then.

You were rolling them again now.

Still, you peeled yourself from the embrace of your blankets with a martyred sigh.

“Coming,” you muttered like a wronged Victorian heroine.

And there he was.

Sylus, leaning on your doorframe like a drunken Greek tragedy. The unmistakable scent of alcohol hit you in the face like an offended slap.

“W-Wha—Sy??” you gasped, arms flailing as you caught his teetering form.

He slumped against you dramatically, mumbling something that suspiciously sounded like “Need… y-you,” into the crook of your neck.

Your entire spine straightened. Goosebumps. Betrayal.

“Again?” you asked, somehow dragging his dead weight into your dorm like a disgruntled EMT.

You dumped him onto the sofa, where he sprawled like a starfish in distress.

“How much did you drink?” you asked, already grabbing your emergency water bottle—standard best-friend-care protocol. You tilted it to his lips.

He tried to drink it sideways.

You sighed, loud and long. “Of course you’re useless.”

His eyes fluttered open just a crack as he sipped at the water, managing to prop himself up with one wobbly arm like he was posing for a very tragic Renaissance painting.

“You’re so… nice,” he slurred, dragging the word out with an attempt at a smirk that looked more like a sleepy grimace.

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Yeah, yeah. Save the drunk flirting for someone who didn’t just haul your dead weight off the hallway floor.”

This wasn’t your first Sylus Situation.

Probably wouldn’t be your last.

You and Sylus had met on the very first day of college. You’d been an eager, introverted bookworm just trying to get to your dorm before anyone could talk to you.

And then—bam—Sylus. Tall, cocky, and very lost, standing in the middle of the corridor looking as confused as a cat in a swimming pool.

He’d stopped you by physically planting one muscled arm across your path and declaring, with absolute seriousness, “I need help finding the toilet.”

A moment you would never forget, nor forgive.

You had rolled your eyes back then too—but still showed him the way, mostly because he had somehow clamped onto you like a gym-sculpted koala.

To this day, you had no idea why someone at age eighteen had the physique of a Marvel extra, but you had learned not to ask too many questions when it came to Sylus.

Especially when he was drunk and whispering compliments like you were the second coming of hydration.

Now, two years in, you and Sylus were pretty much inseparable.

Not exactly by your choice, of course. He had basically crammed himself into your life like a determined cat forcing its way into a box half its size—and then refused to leave.

Ever.

But you, being the kind-hearted, ever-patient soul that you were cough pushover cough, didn’t really complain. Much.

In his own chaotic way, Sylus had proven… useful.

He was your self-appointed human shield against overly confident frat boys who thought “You read? That’s hot” was a seductive line.

More than once, he’d slung an arm around you and declared, “She’s taken. By academia. Leave her alone.”

You, in turn, had helped him survive the academic hellscape that was calculus. Which mostly meant sitting beside him during study sessions and watching him squint at formulas like they were written in ancient Sumerian.

At one point he tried to bribe you with tacos to do his entire homework.

You took the tacos and still made him do it.

It was an odd, messy sort of friendship. One built on sarcastic banter, mutual blackmail, and late-night ramen runs.

And maybe—just maybe—a little too much unspoken something lingering in the quiet spaces in between.

Like right now, for example.

He blinked blearily at you from your sofa, shirt slightly rumpled, hair a tousled mess, water bottle still clutched like a lifeline.

“You know,” he mumbled, “you’d make a great wife.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Drink your water before I drown you in it.”

He grabs the bottle and downs it in one dramatic go, like he was auditioning for a Gatorade commercial.

Then he thrusts it back at you with all the triumph of someone who just solved world hunger.

“There. I finished it,” he announces, his arm swaying a little as he wobbles in place, clearly very proud of his accomplishment.

You roll your eyes but take the bottle anyway, muttering something under your breath about man-children and alcohol tolerance.

You place it on the table and then, with the kind of exasperated sigh that only comes from long-term best friend duty, plop yourself down next to him on the sofa.

He immediately slouches, his shoulder knocking lightly into yours, like his body had decided it belonged at a thirty-degree angle from yours. You don’t move.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s drunkenly ended up in your space.

Sylus had a talent for turning up half-conscious on your couch like some sort of overgrown housecat that went out, got into a fight, and came back demanding affection and snacks.

Still, as he leaned a bit closer, you caught the faintest scent of his cologne beneath the layers of beer and poor decisions.

That same one he always wore—the one you refused to admit you liked.

He gave a tired little groan and let his head loll toward you. “You’re warm,” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “Like… those fuzzy blankets. But with better insults.”

You blinked. “Thank you, I think?”

He gave a lazy grin, eyes barely open. “Anytime, wifey.”

You smacked his shoulder with a throw pillow.

“OW.”

You had to admit—though only internally, and only under very specific, delusional circumstances—you might have feelings for the guy.

Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Absolutely not. You’d rather eat a raw onion whole.

Besides, you and Sylus were practically heaven and earth. He walked through campus like he owned the place, girls tripping over their own feet just to bat their lashes at him. Your dorm mate had been one of them, once.

Keyword, once.

That ended the moment she got bold and tried to drape herself all over him like a weighted blanket in heat.

Sylus, being the tactful gentleman he was, had responded by physically lifting her off and shoving her away with all the grace of a bouncer at closing time.

She hit the floor with a squeak and a very visible bruise forming on her hip.

You’d been mortified.

While Sylus looked mildly annoyed, you were busy apologizing profusely, scrambling to help her up while simultaneously smacking him on the arm.

“What is wrong with you?” you’d hissed.

“She was being gross,” he’d replied simply, like that was an acceptable answer. “And touching me.”

“She’s a human being, not a leech!”

“A touchy leech,” he muttered, unfazed.

That was the thing with Sylus.

He never asked to be popular. Girls just looked at him like he was the answer to all their bad decisions.

But you? You were the one dragging him by the ear out of messes he caused. The one making excuses.

The one covering for him when he showed up drunk or bailed on class or told a professor their quiz “was an act of violence.”

You were the constant.

And somehow, in a very twisted way, you were okay with that. Even if your feelings stayed buried beneath layers of sarcasm and very loud sighs.

Especially now, when he was leaning half-asleep on your shoulder, muttering something about you smelling like books and cinnamon and safety.

And damn it, you liked that too much.

Your expression softened despite yourself when you heard the soft, steady rhythm of Sylus snoring.

He had slumped a little more against your shoulder, completely out cold now, mouth slightly parted in the most annoyingly adorable way.

With a small sigh, you leaned forward, grabbing the throw blanket from the armrest and carefully draping it over both your laps. He didn’t stir.

Just exhaled, warm and slow against your collarbone.

You reached for your book again, flipping back to the page you had abandoned during The Great Drunken Entry of Sylus.

And then, as if summoned by the universe purely to torment you, your Spotify decided to betray you.

Under the Influence by Chris Brown began to play.

Your heart dropped straight to your stomach.

“Oh, no,” you whispered like you were in a horror movie and the killer had just creaked open the door.

Because you remembered the last time this song had come on while Sylus was drunk—less drunk than tonight, unfortunately.

That time, he had turned to you, eyes low and voice deep, and said with a completely straight face, “This song represents the things I want to do to you.”

You had choked on your drink. He had passed out shortly after.

You had spent three business days trying to pretend it never happened.

And yet, for some completely inexplicable reason, you never removed the song from your playlist.

Why?

That was a question for your therapist.

You shot a nervous glance at Sylus’s sleeping form. He twitched a little, mumbling something unintelligible.

“No, no, no, no,” you whispered under your breath. “Don’t you dare wake up.”

He let out a soft sigh.

You stared at your phone, debating if skipping the song would be too loud and risk waking him.

You decided to risk it.

Your finger hovered—then paused.

Because deep down, despite your better judgment, part of you wanted to hear what he might say if he woke up again.

And that was the real betrayal.

You scrambled through your playlist like a woman on a mission, muttering curses at your past self while frantically searching for something—anything—less incriminating than Chris Brown.

Eventually, you landed on something soft and unassuming, a gentle acoustic ballad that sounded like it belonged in a rainy café montage.

Peace.

At last.

You settled back in, the weight of Sylus still warm beside you, blanket tucked around your legs, your book finally resting in your hands again.

You exhaled slowly.

And then, without warning, the air was violently knocked out of your lungs.

“Wha—!”

One second you were comfortably seated.

The next, Sylus had flipped you flat on your back, your book flying out of your hands with a soft thud.

A startled yelp escaped your throat, legs tangled in the blanket, brain scrambling to catch up to the fact that you had just been ambushed.

He hovered over you, forearms braced on either side of your head, eyes half-lidded but open—definitely awake now. Great.

“Sylus!” you hissed, face heating. “What the hell?!”

“Shhh,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse, like he hadn’t fully emerged from dreamland yet. “You moved.”

“I was reading.”

He blinked slowly, eyes flickering across your face with an intensity that made your breath catch.

Then he mumbled, almost like a confession, “Thought you left.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I—Sylus, I live here.” You tried to squirm, but he just shifted closer, lowering himself so his forehead bumped gently against yours.

“You smell like lavender,” he whispered.

You were going to die. Right here. Of cardiac arrest and secondhand embarrassment.

“And books,” he added softly, eyes fluttering shut again. “You smell like home.”

Your hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to shove him off or pull him closer.

You did neither.

Because the worst part?

You liked hearing that more than you should’ve.

“Why are you… so cute?” he slurs, eyes glassy and unfocused, his breath warm against your lips.

You barely had time to process the question—if it was a question—before he leaned in and slammed his lips against yours with all the grace and coordination of someone who definitely shouldn’t be operating heavy machinery.

Your brain short-circuited.

Yep. He’s super drunk tonight.

It wasn’t even a kiss, really.

More like a very committed face-plant. His lips mashed clumsily against yours, all instinct and zero finesse, like his drunk brain had gone, “Target acquired—initiate smooch protocol.”

You froze. Arms still mid-air. Eyes wide. Mind absolutely screaming.

It lasted all of two seconds before he let out a satisfied little hum and promptly collapsed against you like a human pancake, burying his face into the crook of your neck as if the kiss had been a casual prelude to nap time.

“…Seriously?” you croaked.

No response. Just light snoring and a very warm, very solid Sylus draped across your body.

You stared at the ceiling.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

You were definitely not blushing.

Not still feeling the ghost of his lips against yours.

Not wondering why the hell your heart was racing like you’d just run a marathon.

Nope.

Totally. Fine.

—•

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the blinds, warm and accusing. You blinked groggily, only to realize that your limbs were pinned.

Sylus was still slumped against your body, face buried in your shoulder, arm thrown around your waist like a weighted blanket with abandonment issues.

He was out, dead to the world, breathing softly like last night hadn’t been a whole fever dream.

You stared at him for a long moment.

Then, very carefully—like you were defusing a bomb—you began to wiggle out from under him.

One leg. Then the other.

You held your breath as you slipped free, standing over him like some war-weary survivor of battle. He didn’t stir.

Honestly, you were impressed. You could have probably vacuumed the room and he’d still be there, drooling peacefully.

You didn’t have time to process it. Class was calling.

And you had never gotten ready so fast.

By the time you made it to your seat, slightly out of breath and still pulling your hoodie over your head, your mind was already spiraling.

The lecture blurred into a series of droning syllables you couldn’t quite absorb.

Because God, you hoped he didn’t remember.

If he did—if he looked at you with that signature smirk and said anything about last night—your soul might physically evacuate your body.

You kept your head down, notebook open but blank, your pen frozen mid-air.

And still, your thoughts wandered.

Back to the feel of his lips on yours—sloppy, warm, unexpected.

Back to the sound of his voice, low and slurred, calling you cute like it was a sin he couldn’t forgive.

Back to the way your heart had reacted like it was hearing something it had been waiting for.

Your teeth grazed your bottom lip, and before you could stop yourself, you caught it gently between them. Just to see if you could remember.

And—damn it—you could.

Which was exactly the problem.

Class ended faster than you realized.

One moment you were lost in a daze of accidental kisses and existential dread, the next, students were filing out around you and your professor was reminding everyone about next week’s quiz that you absolutely did not hear.

You packed your stuff in record time and bolted, telling yourself you’d walk it off. Or compartmentalize. Or, ideally, both.

It was a crisp morning, birds chirping, sun shining, world spinning just fine without dragging your dignity behind it. You were just starting to calm down, your feet falling into a steady rhythm along the pavement, when—

An arm slung over your shoulder.

You stiffened like someone had just hit your internal panic button.

“Thanks for not waking me,” came a familiar, smug voice from your right, laced with far too much amusement for someone who had been drooling on your hoodie six hours ago.

You turned your head slowly—like in a horror film—and there he was.

Sylus.

Disheveled but well-rested. Hair tousled. Hoodie slightly crooked on his frame.

Looking every bit like someone who had zero regrets and somehow still got eight hours of sleep.

And worse?

He was smirking.

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Then you exhaled, long and slow, a rush of relief loosening your spine. “So… you don’t remember anything?” you asked as casually as you could.

His smirk deepened. “Nope.”

You nodded, clutching your bag a little tighter. “Good. Great. Fantastic.”

He glanced sideways at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You look tense,” he said, as if you weren’t actively reliving one of the most unhinged nights of your life.

You kept your face blank. “Do I?”

“Mm-hm.” He leaned in slightly. “We didn’t do anything weird, did we?”

Your soul briefly tried to exit your body.

You cleared your throat, gaze fixed straight ahead. “Define weird.”

Sylus chuckled, his grip around your shoulders tightening playfully. “Knew I could count on you to protect my innocence.”

You resisted the urge to shove him into a bush.

Because he didn’t remember.

And maybe that was for the best.

Right?

—•

Later that afternoon, Sylus had peeled himself away from your side with his usual casual flair, stretching like a cat and shooting you a wink over his shoulder.

“Got a date,” he’d called, walking backward with that insufferable grin. “Don’t miss me too much!”

You managed a forced smile, waving him off like it was no big deal.

But it was.

Because the moment he turned the corner, a sharp, unwelcome pang bloomed in your chest. It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly.

Just… something heavy. Something tight.

Something you couldn’t name without digging into places you weren’t quite ready to go.

You sighed, long and low, and forced your feet toward your next class, pretending that maybe you’d feel better if you just kept moving.

Spoiler, you didn’t.

Classes passed in a blur, lectures droning like white noise in the background.

You tried to focus, really, but your mind kept drifting—back to last night, back to his weight against you, his breath on your neck, the taste of his lips.

Back to the way he didn’t remember.

And now here he was, out on a date, completely unaware of the emotional chaos he’d left you in.

You returned to your dorm that night with your brain fried and your heart somewhere under your shoe.

You flopped onto your bed face-first, ready to disappear into the mattress forever, when your phone buzzed.

Sy: getting drunk again tonight lol

You groaned, dragging your pillow over your head like it could block out both the light and your bad decisions. You tossed your phone aside with more force than necessary.

“He better not come here again tonight,” you muttered to yourself.

But even as you said it… a tiny, traitorous part of you kind of hoped he would.

And that was the worst part.

Of course he did.

Because why wouldn’t he?

You stared at the door for a solid five seconds after the knock. It was almost comedic at this point.

Like the universe had a twisted sense of humor and Sylus was its favorite punchline.

You dragged yourself up, already exhausted before you even turned the knob.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the doorframe like he hadn’t been out on a date just hours ago, like he hadn’t already hijacked your emotional equilibrium last night.

The now-familiar scent hit you immediately—his signature cologne, warm and clean, now drowned under the unmistakable sting of alcohol.

Not subtle this time.

He smelled like he’d gone swimming in a cocktail shaker.

He grinned at you, lazy and lopsided. “Hey, wifey.”

You stared at him. Blinked once.

Then sighed. “I literally said, ‘He better not come here again tonight.’”

He tilted his head. “But I always come here.”

You resisted the urge to bang your head against the doorframe. “You have a room. A perfectly good room.”

“But yours has you in it,” he said, like it was the most logical argument in the world.

And just like that, your heart did the thing again—the flutter, the ache, the full-body sigh of someone dangerously close to caring too much.

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting him stumble in and flop onto the sofa with all the grace of a drunk swan.

He missed the armrest entirely and groaned into your throw pillow.

You closed the door.

“Don’t throw up on anything,” you warned.

“Never,” came his muffled reply. “I have standards.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you do.”

As you fetched the water bottle—again, you glanced over at him. Hair a mess, face flushed, shoes still on.

And yet, somehow, despite it all—despite the alcohol and the chaos and the absolutely maddening way he lived inside your head—he still looked like home.

And that was the problem.

You sighed—again—and knelt beside the sofa, already in caretaker mode. It was routine now. Predictable. You unscrewed the cap of the water bottle with one hand and gently lifted it to his lips, not even bothering to ask this time.

But tonight was different.

Because he didn’t drink.

He didn’t even move.

He just stared at you.

Silent. Still.

Your brows furrowed as you held the bottle there, confused. “Sylus,” you said softly, nudging the rim against his bottom lip.

Still nothing.

You looked up, properly meeting his gaze—and froze.

He wasn’t out of it this time. His eyes, though glassy, were clear. Awake. Watching you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

Your hand slowly lowered the bottle.

“What?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

His head tilted slightly against the pillow, eyes never leaving yours. “You were biting your lip in class today.”

You blinked. “Wha—how do you even—?”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” he murmured, almost like an apology.

Your heart dropped.

He remembered.

He remembered.

The kiss. The things he said. The way he collapsed on you like you were something he could fall into without consequence.

He remembered everything.

Your voice caught in your throat. You straightened up a little, putting distance between you. “You said you didn’t remember.”

He smiled faintly. “I lied.”

And just like that, the air shifted—heavy, warm, dangerous. The room felt smaller. Your heart louder.

You didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t.

You just stared back, bottle still in your hand, feeling everything you’d tried to bury clawing its way to the surface.

He sat up with a sigh, rubbing a hand through his hair as if he could shake off the tension clinging to the air between you.

You watched him closely, bottle still in your hand, heartbeat pounding like a warning.

Then he looked at you—really looked at you—and said quietly, “I didn’t go on a date.”

Your brows lifted.

“I didn’t even drink tonight.”

That made you pause.

You stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly. And?

Your expression said it all. So?

He shifted, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced like he needed something to hold onto.

His frown deepened, not from annoyance but from something far more raw.

“Don’t you get it?” he asked, voice softer now—less teasing, more real.

You blinked.

No smirk. No sarcasm.

Just Sylus, stripped of his usual bravado, staring at you like he didn’t know what else to say—like the weight of what he felt had finally grown too heavy to carry without showing it.

And suddenly, everything felt louder.

The silence. The breath you didn’t take. The confession waiting just on the other side of his words.

Because maybe… you did get it.

You just weren’t sure you were ready to.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face in frustration like he couldn’t believe he was having to spell it out.

“Come here,” he muttered under his breath—low, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it.

But before you could even react, his hands were on either side of your face, warm and certain, pulling you toward him.

And then—he kissed you.

Not like last night.

Not messy or sudden or slurred with alcohol and adrenaline.

This kiss was different.

It was gentle. Intentional. His lips moved slowly against yours, like he was trying to say everything he hadn’t had the courage to say out loud.

Like he wanted you to feel it—feel him.

There was no rush. No stumble. Just soft, quiet honesty.

Your hands, unsure at first, slowly rose to grip the front of his shirt. His thumb brushed along your cheek, steadying you, grounding you.

And for a moment, the noise in your head stopped.

No questions. No what-ifs. Just the feeling of him—real, solid, and heartbreakingly tender.

When he finally pulled away, barely an inch, his forehead rested lightly against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness between you.

“I remember everything,” he whispered.

“And I meant all of it.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time.”

The words settled between you like something fragile and warm, and terrifyingly real.

You barely had time to absorb them before he sighed, shaking his head with a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated.

“For someone who’s considered a nerd,” he muttered, thumb brushing against your cheek again, “you’re so stupid.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Excuse me?”

He gave you a look—the one that always came right before he said something that would both annoy and fluster you to death.

“You seriously didn’t notice? Two years of me practically living in your room, fending off every guy who looked at you twice, ‘accidentally’ falling asleep on your shoulder, telling you a Chris Brown song described what I wanted to do to you—”

“I thought you were drunk!” you hissed, flushing.

“I was,” he admitted, smirking. “But that doesn’t mean I was lying.”

You stared at him, heart a riot in your chest.

He leaned in again, voice softer now.

“I liked you even before I knew what to call it. When you helped me find the toilet on the first day, and I thought, ‘Well. That’s it. Guess I’m not letting her go now.’”

You blinked, wide-eyed. “That was… the first day of college.”

“Exactly.” He grinned, nose brushing yours. “And you’re just now catching up?”

You opened your mouth to argue. Nothing came out.

He laughed under his breath, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “God, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

You were still staring at him, wide-eyed, frozen in the moment like your brain had blue-screened.

Your mouth opened. Nothing came out.

You had so many things to say, but your thoughts were tripping over each other in the hallway of your mind, arms full of emotional baggage.

He just chuckled.

Low. Warm. Smug.

That infuriating smirk curved at the corner of his lips again, the one that always spelled trouble and somehow still made your heart flutter.

“You really are slow,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Guess I’ll just have to make it clearer.”

And before you could process that ominous statement—

He kissed you again.

But this time, it wasn’t sweet or tentative.

This kiss was deeper. Hotter.

Full of all the pent-up feelings he clearly hadn’t been hiding as well as you thought.

He pressed you back into the sofa, one hand cradling the side of your face while the other slid around your waist like he already knew he belonged there.

You gasped softly against his mouth, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, body reacting faster than your brain could.

And he groaned—low in his throat, like just the sound of you was enough to unravel him.

He pulled back only a breath’s distance, lips barely brushing yours, voice rough. “Still think I’m joking?”

You couldn’t think at all.

And maybe, for once, that was okay.

You didn’t answer him.

You couldn’t.

Because the second your breath hitched, the second your lips parted like you might say something—he kissed you again.

And this time, it wasn’t hesitant.

It was consuming.

All heat and hunger and tension finally unraveling between two people who had been orbiting each other for far too long.

Sylus pressed you further into the cushions, his body aligned with yours like he belonged there. Like this had always been inevitable.

His hand slid from your waist to your hip, fingers curling just enough to make you shiver, while his mouth moved against yours with growing urgency—soft and then firm, teasing then demanding.

Your hands were in his hair before you even realized, pulling him closer, needing more. He groaned into the kiss, low and strained, like he’d been holding himself back for too long.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with restraint. “Always walking around in those stupid sweaters, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.”

You whimpered as his mouth trailed along your jaw, down the slope of your neck, finding that spot just below your ear that made your back arch slightly into him. His name slipped out of you before you could stop it—breathy, half-plea, half-warning.

He stilled for half a second, like he needed to hear it again.

“Sylus,” you whispered, and just like that, the last thread of control snapped.

His hands were under your sweater now, fingers splayed across your waist, not rushing—just feeling. Like he wanted to memorize you. Commit every inch of you to memory.

You gasped when his lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper. As if he were trying to tell you something he didn’t quite know how to say.

And in between every kiss, every breath, every graze of skin, you heard it loud and clear.

I want you.

I’ve always wanted you.

Only you.

You broke the kiss with a gasp, lips tingling, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths.

Your hands were still fisted in his shirt, your bodies still pressed close, but you needed a second—needed to breathe. Because what the hell just happened?

“Holy shit,” you whispered, voice raw and dazed.

Sylus stilled, eyes searching yours, flushed and breathless. “Too much?”

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. “No. I just…”

Your brows furrowed, a stunned laugh escaping you.

“I’ve been walking around thinking you didn’t feel the same for two years?” you said, incredulous, voice cracking on the last word.

Sylus blinked, then tilted his head slightly, a small, helpless smile tugging at his lips. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“You hid it ridiculously well!”

“I practically moved into your dorm.”

“You ate my snacks and called me wifey. That’s not a confession, that’s just being annoying.”

He laughed, the sound husky and breathless. “I flirted with you constantly.”

“I thought that was just your default setting! You flirt with the barista.”

“I don’t press her against the sofa and kiss her like I’m about to lose my mind,” he muttered, his voice low, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “Only you.”

Your heart clenched, hard.

The air between you shifted again, softer now—less fire, more gravity.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “You really didn’t know?”

“I didn’t want to know,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “I thought… if I hoped too much, I’d ruin it.”

His fingers curled gently around the side of your neck, grounding you. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

You opened your eyes and found him looking at you like you were the only thing that had ever made sense to him.

“I’ve been yours,” he said quietly, “since the first day you showed me where the toilet was.”

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh—and kissed him again.

This time, you didn’t stop.

You kissed him like you were catching up on everything you hadn’t let yourself feel.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment since that first awkward hallway encounter.

There were no more games. No more pretending. Just whispered names and stolen breath, soft laughs between kisses, and the feeling of finally, finally being seen.

By the time you fell asleep tangled in each other on the sofa—his hand on your waist, your head tucked under his chin—it was quiet.

Not the lonely kind.

The peaceful kind.

The kind that only comes when you’ve stopped running from something… and finally let yourself fall.

masterlist

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[ssa-dado]

Cat Equals Sign Of Integration

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: fluff, smut (implied) Summary: Aaron, ever the strategist, decides that a little wine might help soften the blow of figuring out with you how to tell the team you’re dating. A solid plan - except for one tiny flaw: wine makes him a whore. Warnings: +18, MINORS DNI Hotch is a touch starved whore, a few cuss words here and there, wine gets a bit into both of your heads. Word Count: 5k Dado's Corner: Did I hallucinate this while working on one of the many requests still on my to-do list, only to realize halfway through that it was completely derailing from the main plot - but too cute to abandon? Yes. Is this fun? You tell me (pretty please).

masterlist(s)

One of the many rules you and Aaron had in your relationship was that if you cooked for date night, he was the one doing the dishes.

His idea.

You had been opposed to it at first - not because you minded, of course. You were actually a huge fan of grown men handling household chores without whining like toddlers about how it might somehow demasculate their poor, fragile egos.

No, you were opposed because you didn’t want him doing it out of some sense of obligation.

It took you a while to accept that Aaron wasn’t doing this because he owed you - he was doing it because he wanted to.

Because that was just… Aaron.

Ever the caregiver, always looking for ways to make life easier for the people he loved. He could give you the world and still come to you like a wounded dog, begging for forgiveness because he thought he wasn’t enough.

It was infuriating - for all the deep psychological reasons you could analyze for hours, but also for a much pettier one: when it was his turn to cook, instead of letting you do the dishes like the so-called rule dictated, he just… did them anyway.

And thus, the noble Mr. Clean - brave warrior of dish duty, his arms submerged in treacherous, frothy depths - found himself utterly helpless against the sudden, most dreadful buzzing of his phone.

A cruel twist of fate, indeed!

Stranded, defenseless, bound by duty to his porcelain captors, he could do nothing but stand there, a tragic figure of great importance, cruelly denied his right to immediately bestow his undivided attention upon whatever poor soul dared summon him.

Oh, the agony! The injustice! How swiftly the mighty are humbled… by a sink full of bubbles.

That was because, logically, if even a single drop of water touched his phone, he would instantly lose all of the very important, highly classified FBI secrets stored inside. Of course, phones couldn't possibly be waterproof.

Ha, imagine?! What a concept.

“Who is it?” Aaron asked, still scrubbing at your wine glass like he was trying to erase its entire existence.

Which – by the way - was completely pointless, considering that in less than five minutes, he planned on refilling it with some more. A different wine, yes. But for God’s sake, you weren’t going to die if the last few drops of white mixed with the red.

…What a fussy man.

“Penelope,” you replied, admiring the view.

What a view, really. That man was all legs and no ass, and you were finally learning to appreciate it. 

“Ignore it,” he said, not even turning around.

Unfortunately for him - and for the HR department still blissfully unaware that their most serious, by-the-book boss was fraternizing with a subordinate - you were a profiler.

The U.S. government literally paid your bills every single month because you were exceptionally good at reading people.

And the way he answered? Yeah, that wasn’t the tone of a man casually dismissing an unimportant text. No, that was the tone of a man caught red-handed, scrambling for plausible deniability.

Embarrassed. Secretive. Suspicious. Frankly, if you didn’t already know what he was hiding, you’d be halfway to slapping cuffs on him. Wouldn’t even be the first time.

And so you read it – out loud.

Penelope Garcia, 7:56 PM:

hotch sir hotch bossman sir, i am DYING please tell me if you found out who her mystery boyfriend is i am suffering!!!!!!!! i know you know. i know it in my heart. if you can’t say it just give me a hint. a tiny one. a cryptic riddle. a blink. i will take anything.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

By her, of course, she meant you - because despite a few months of keeping your relationship under wraps, you still hadn’t gotten around to telling the team. Your colleagues. Your friends. Your unwanted, overly nosy adopted children.

That their elusive "mystery boyfriend" was, in fact, your mutual boss.

You were going to tell them. Eventually.

Didn’t know when. But you would.

Then again, it wasn’t like you were surrounded by some of the best profilers in the country, trained to pick up on the slightest behavioral shift.

It’s not like the second two incredibly touch-starved people like you and Aaron started walking around with even a fraction of happiness, that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicions.

…Except, apparently, it hadn’t.

Because somehow, the team had only managed to land on half the conclusion: you were seeing someone.

But Aaron? Not even a blip on their radar.

It was almost impressive, really. The answer was so obvious that they had discarded it entirely, still wandering around in the dark, trying to piece together a puzzle that was sitting right in front of their faces.

Just like Penelope was doing now, so desperate for some reason that she was straight-up asking him outright - when not that long ago, she still thought twice before even making a dirty joke in his presence.

And so, you got up, walked over to Aaron, and held the phone directly under his nose. “What does this mean?”

He squinted at the screen, then at you. “Oh, honey, I don’t know. She always sends me that - I don’t understand what exactly equals the sign of integration”.

…What?

You were suddenly just as confused as he was.

He blinked at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in that utterly sincere, slightly bewildered way of his. “That sign before it,” he said, completely lost. “It looks Chinese. Thought you knew Chinese, sweetheart.”

…What?

Oh, for the love of God.

If this man hadn’t already seen the absolute worst horrors the world had to offer, you would fight for his innocence with your nails, your teeth, and - if absolutely necessary - one of the worst shooting records ever logged in the Bureau.

You looked at the screen again.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

Oh.

Oh, that’s what had confused him.

“Aaron,” you said gently, doing your absolute best not to kiss him right then and there, “that is a cat.”

You sighed, then pointed at the message again. “By the way, the ‘sign’ in the middle is in Korean, not Chinese.”

He looked at the screen again - then back at you. “…Cat equals sign of integration?”

“No, honey,” you said, barely suppressing your smile, tapping the little text emoji. “It’s just a cat.”

He studied it for another second. “Oh.”

There. That did it. You gave in. Leaned in and pressed a loud smooch to his cheek.

At least your dignity was still intact - he had no idea why you’d done it, just assumed it was one of those spontaneous bursts of affection that came with being hopelessly in love.

Honeymoon phase truly did work wonders.

“Do you think I can have the cat too?” he asked, grabbing the bottle of red and a corkscrew.

That was a trap.

Because Aaron Hotchner still signed every single text he sent.

And while it wasn’t an issue when he was sending something standard -

Lawyer, 6:17 PM:

They found a new body, we’re gathering at the precinct in 30.

A.H.

- it became a lot more unsettling when he sent the filthiest, most depraved things you’d ever read, only to end them with that stiff little A.H. like he was dictating official Bureau correspondence.

Lawyer, 11:51 PM:

Sweetheart, if only these stupid walls weren’t so thin, I’d have you right here with me, bent over, face pressed against this mattress, making you come so many times you’d forget your own name. At least three. Maybe four, if I’m feeling generous.

A.H.

So now, standing in his kitchen, watching him pour wine like he hadn’t just permanently scarred you with his painfully bureaucratic approach to sexting, you knew that if you admitted he could simply copy-paste that ‘cat equals integration sign,’ it would only be a matter of time before you were subjected to something truly traumatizing, like -

Lawyer, very-late-office-hour PM:

It’s your fault I’m getting distracted with the paperwork, because I’m still thinking about how good you tasted last night while sitting on my face. God, I can still feel your thighs shaking, you were so sweet for me, honey, so fucking perfect.

P.S. How many reports do you still have left? Because I’ve been thinking about having you on my tongue again before the night is over. I think I’ve got about an hour or so left but then I’m all yours.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

Yeah. No. Absolutely not.

That man could not be trusted with the cat.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades as your fingers brushed over his back. “I don’t think you can get it. She must have programmed it herself into her phone.”

You truly hoped you were as convincing as he was clueless about text etiquette.

“It’s a pity,” he sighed, both of your wine glasses in hand as he made his way to the couch. “I would have loved to send you the cat.”

…Of course he would. Smug ass.

But as the words left his mouth, something shifted in him - just barely. A pause that didn’t usually belong there... weird.

Still, you followed, watching as he settled in, patting the cushion beside him with a half-smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”

A misleading gesture, considering his legs were very much spread - a much clearer invitation. At least, that’s how you chose to interpret it.

Because you could swear - those legs spoke to you. Called to you. So you slid right into your rightful seat - his lap.

…Would have been rude not to answer.

“Back to Garcia,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh as he handed you your painstakingly polished wine glass - so clean, so immaculately spotless, that the red wine inside looked redder than red. A real masterpiece, Mr. Clean. “She doesn’t seem to be letting up about finding out who you’re dating… This is the fourth message this week.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your wine. “Well, she’s second only to you when it comes to being nosy about gossip.”

Aaron exhaled, shaking his head, that same small half-smile back on his lips.

That particular smile.

The one he used when he was trying to convince someone he was fine when, in reality, he was not - when he was trying to reassure everyone else while simultaneously refusing to admit, even to himself, that something was eating him alive.

Oh, now you knew what this was about.

He had definitely practiced this conversation in his head - refined it down to the perfect phrasing. Measured. Logical. Reassuring.

A version so well-rehearsed, so carefully constructed, that he’d convinced himself first before trying to convince you - that this didn’t scare him.

That this was just another rational step forward.

That it was fine.

Because if he could make it sound easy, maybe it would be.

Maybe it would give you something solid to lean on, because the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were standing on shaky ground with someone just as fractured as he was.

But in the end, even the best-laid words couldn’t withstand the weight of his emotions - whether he liked it or not, even rocks are meant to erode.

“I think it’s time we come clean to the team,” he admitted, completely veering off-script - though, of course, he still made sure to soften the blow with a kiss to your temple.

Not that it made much difference. You both knew this moment was inevitable, but somehow, you’d managed to delude yourselves into thinking that if you just kept putting it off, the perfect time would miraculously appear.

At first, you’d delayed it until things were official.

Then, because you needed to be sure this could work in the long run.

Then, because you wanted time to just enjoy each other.

Truthfully? If it were entirely up to the two of you, you’d probably keep postponing it indefinitely - at least until the day you were both retired, far away from any fraternization rules or painfully awkward team dynamics.

Unless, of course, your eyes had been deceiving you all along, or life decided to be cruel and rip this happiness away from you before you ever even got the chance. All you could do was hope not.

Aaron sighed, watching you carefully. “So, how do you want to do this?”

At least he could take comfort in the fact that his very specific plan of having wine while discussing this was still intact - especially since the very large sip you took the second he asked hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He huffed a laugh.

Yeah.

This was going to be fun.

“Are we sure we have to?” You groaned, tilting your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. It’s the only way to keep them from getting the satisfaction of figuring it out first and do this our way…”

It was his turn to take a long sip now… he surely wasn’t thrilled about the lack of an actual game plan.

“…Still need to figure out what exactly we mean by ‘our way,’” he admitted. “But, you know… that’s what these are for.”

He tapped a finger against his temple, then against yours, clearly implying that your very skilled, highly trained profiler brains would surely work this out.

You, however, were placing your bets on your problem-solving skills drastically improving after a few more glasses of wine, because right now?

“We are so fucked,” you commented.

Aaron clinked his glass against yours, deadpan. “Completely.”

You both took long, slow sips of wine like it might somehow provide divine intervention.

It didn’t. You were indeed left pretty much alone in this.

You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table. “Well, you definitely have the face of someone who already has a plan...” You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “...a very handsome face.”

Cheesy. But deserved.

Aaron chuckled. “I believe…” He kissed you on the cheek – twice - before setting his own glass down too. “…We should tell them directly. Get ahead of it. Lay it out as matter-of-factly as possible.”

“Matter-of-factly?”

He nodded, all serious, like he hadn’t just suggested the worst possible approach.

“Sweetheart…” You pinched his cheek, making him scrunch his nose, hoping – more like praying - that it would snap him out of whatever fantasy land of logic, reason, and good intentions he was apparently living in.

“If we tell them directly, Penelope will throw an actual partypersonally design matching t-shirts, and have the entire team wear them.” You paused, leveling him with a look. “And you know it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know.”

“Emily and Derek will immediately start making jokes like two middle schoolers who just learned what sex is and will not let us breathe.”

“I know.”

“JJ will be quiet but then ask all of a sudden, ‘So when’s the wedding?’ which will restart the chaos all over again.”

“I know.”

You turned to face him, deadly serious. “Spencer-”

“-Will hit us with a full statistical analysis of workplace relationships,” Aaron finished, exhaling sharply, already bracing himself.

Because there was only one team member left to account for - the worst of them all.

“And… oh God… Dave…”

And with that horrifying realization, he did the only logical thing a man in his position could do - he face-planted directly into your chest with a dramatic, muffled groan of pure defeat.

You blinked down at him, amused. “Honey…”

Why was he even so touch starved like that?

“All I ask,” came his muffled voice, still very much nestled between your breasts, “is five minutes of peace.”

You snorted. “You do realize this isn’t exactly discouraging me from making fun of you, right?”

He sighed again. “You do realize that if you keep laughing, you’re just shoving them further into my face?”

…Damn him and his irritating ability to state the obvious.

You sighed, fingers absentmindedly combing through his short spikes of hair. “…So we’re back to square one.”

Aaron exhaled, still very much face-first in his chosen safe haven. “Unfortunately.”

You hummed, “Okay, hypothetically, if we just… never tell them, how long do you think we could get away with it?”

That was so absurd that it actually made him lift his head. He blinked at you, utterly offended by the suggestion.

“I am not spending the next decade pretending I don’t stare at your ass every time you walk away.”

…Alright. That was definitely the wine talking.

In vino veritas, as the Romans said. Wine makes people say dumb shit: the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t know you were a poet, Hotchner.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t pretend you’re above it, because I catch you every time you drift off during briefings just to stare right at-”

“Alright, alright,” you cut him off, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could fully call you out... he was not happy about it. “We’re both shameless…"

You needed an exit strategy. Fast.

You reached for his wine glass over the coffee table. “Well, at least the bright side of telling them is that we won’t have to schedule our coffee breaks in advance anymore and pretend to look surprised when we see each other.”

And all of that was just for one single moment.

The fleeting brush of fingertips as you handed him the cup you always poured for him.

The way his hand was always warmer than yours, despite the fact that you were the one holding the scalding mug, as if basic thermodynamics simply did not apply to Aaron Hotchner.

And if it was one of those days, sometimes, there’d be a little extra something.

A longer touch.

Eye contact that lingered just a second too long.

A slow sip from his cup while still holding your gaze, and suddenly, it felt indecent - like something you definitely shouldn’t be doing in broad daylight, let alone in a federal building.

And now - here, in the comfort of his apartment, with nothing and no one to stop you - he reached for the wine glass you were offering, except… he wasn’t actually reaching for the glass.

He was just holding your hand.

Aaron chuckled, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles. “I think we’re holding onto this touch just a little too long,” he murmured, nuzzling into you, his breath warm against your ear. “Might start looking suspicious.”

Didn’t he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, also some-” you started, or at least tried to, because as if everything else wasn’t enough, now he was kissing just behind your ear, his lips just brushing the sensitive skin there, warm, and slow, and wet and… God…

Okay. Okay.

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was the fact that you were always kind of a little bit obsessed with him.

Either way, the result was the same: you really, really wanted him right now.

You sighed, tilting your head to grant him a little more access - but not too much, or you might actually end up using the full length of his three-seater couch instead of stubbornly remaining curled up in the same cramped two-foot space you’d unofficially claimed as your own. Ergo - going horizontal with him instead of just being seated on his lap.

“I thought we were having a serious discussion,” you murmured, though the breathy edge to your voice wasn’t exactly helping your case.

Aaron hummed in response, slowly dragging his lips from behind your ear down along the curve of your jaw, pressing a kiss at the hinge. “We are.” Another kiss. “What were you starting to say, sweetheart?”

And another one.

You tried to think. Really, you did.

But it was getting increasingly difficult with his mouth still very much on your skin, moving towards places that were making it exponentially harder to form coherent thoughts.

You would’ve made a mental note to never wear anything that resembled a tank top around him again, if only you had the actual brain capacity to form any notes right now.

“Aaron-”

Aaron smirked against your skin. “You were saying?”

…Blank. Absolutely blank.

Your brain stalled for a solid three seconds before mercifully rebooting.

“I-” You licked your lips, cleared your throat. “Penelope.”

That, thankfully, was enough of a keyword to get him to back off - though, the second he did, you already desperately missed the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

He tilted his head, “Penelope?”

You swallowed. “She’s… gonna be beaming.”

Aaron blinked at you. “Beaming.”

“Yeah.” You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, because God, he was too cute when he was confused like this. “Her and Kevin have been desperate for another couple to go out with. Ever since JJ and Will stopped leaving the house because they’re too busy baby-proofing every square inch of their lives.”

Aaron’s brows furrowed slightly. “And by ‘go out with,’ you mean double dates.”

You hummed, fingers grazing his cheek. “Mmm. Yeah. Double dates.”

Aaron didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, absolutely not.”

You blinked, pulling back slightly. “Wait, what?”

His face was resolute. “I’m not doing double dates.”

You squinted at him. “Okay, but why?”

And that’s how you learned that if there was one thing your boyfriend hated - more than messy paperwork, more than delayed flights, more than the Bureau’s budgeting meetings - it was double dates.

Not specifically with Penelope and Kevin. God, no. He was practically the puppet master of their relationship in the first place. Just… double dates in general.

“They’re impractical,” he said.

You snorted. “What do you mean?”

Aaron sighed. “They are a waste of time. You sit there, and for the first fifteen minutes, it’s fine. The usual small talk, polite conversation…”

You nodded, barely biting back a grin. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Honestly, this just sounded like some classic Aaron Hotchner being the most adorable introvert to ever exist.

He shot you a look, deadly serious. “It’s a trap.” You nearly cooed. Adorable. “Because at some point, you end up talking one-on-one with someone from the other couple. And right when the conversation is actually getting interesting-”

He suddenly paused.

His hand started at your shoulder, innocent enough - until it wasn’t, until it drifted lower, fingertips skimming down until they found your thigh, before sliding inward, squeezing your soft flesh there.

“See?” Aaron murmured, voice deceptively casual. “It starts off innocently. A hand on the shoulder…”He angled his fingers just a notch further up your upper thigh. “…Then the thigh. Then-”

He leaned in, kissing you just at the corner of your mouth.

"A little kiss here," he murmured, lips barely brushing your skin.

Then another - softer, lingering just at the very edge of your lips.

"A little peck there."

Okay.

Ahem.

For a man who hated double dates, he was making a very strong case for them.

This was clearly foreplay.

Had to be foreplay.

You chose to interpret it as foreplay.

So, naturally, just as you were about to pull him in properly - to finally taste the wine on his lips – he pulled back.

Mixed signals whore.

“And then,” he continued, and you swore his voice had gotten even lower - sluttier, if you were being honest - "it escalates.”

...Wine-induced yapper. "Because one couple decides a little peck isn’t enough, so they turn and start devouring each other’s faces… in public.”

The wine that was in your system, instead, suggested you should have him biblically, right here, right now, on his couch.

“Care to demonstrate this part too?” You licked your lips, tilting your head.

Aaron sighed “Honey.” You knew you were in trouble the moment he smirked. “You’re demonstrating my point…”

Your stomach dropped.

“…You want more.” Aaron tutted, shaking his head, feigning disappointment. “Of course you want more. A chaste kiss isn’t enough. How could it be, sweetheart?”

Hell yes you wanted more.

Badly.

You might have even nodded without meaning to.

“But imagine if this was happening in public. In front of two other people. What about them?” he murmured, tilting his head, voice dropping into something dark, silky, dangerous. “In front of two other people.”

You swallowed, very much not thinking about them right now.

“Because at that point, they only have two choices: they either sit there - third-wheeling, watching - or…” His hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers splaying wide over your bare waist, gripping, pulling you that much closer. "… they start doing it too."

Your breath hitched. “Aaron-”

"With just a kiss, it creates an environment," he murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear, "where both couples get competitive. Where they start copying each other - but making it more…"

He dragged his nose along the curve of your jaw, the ghost of his lips tracing just behind it. "Passionate."

A teeth-grazing kiss against your pulse.

A slow drag of his lips down the column of your throat, before he made his way back up, tilting your chin up with his fingers just so, forcing you to look at him.

And God, that look.

"More tongue," he continued, letting you see it first - his own darting out, wetting his lips just before he brushed them over yours.

Not kissing.

Not yet.

“More biting.” Aaron caught your lower lip between his teeth, pulling just enough to confirm what you already knew -

He tasted like red wine.

Rich. Dark. Addictive.

And so did you.

“More touching.” His hand drifted, fingertips just skimming over your ribs, teasing along the underside of your breast - so close, so close, before he let it trail lower again, just as his lips ghosted over your ear.

"More sounds."

You barely bit back the breathy, desperate little moan clawing its way up your throat because -

Aaron shoved you off his lap.

In one fluid motion, he shifted, pressing you back into the couch, caging you in beneath him, his arms bracketing either side of your head.

His knee slotted between your thighs, pressing up just slightly - just enough to make you gasp, make your hips twitch without thinking.

You were pretty sure now that this was, in fact, foreplay.

“At that point,” he murmured, lowering himself, pressing his body against yours, pinning you down with nothing but his weight, “if you’re already getting ideas…”

Aaron rolled his hips against you, his knee shifting just enough to have you sucking in a sharp breath. “…it’s better off just staying home. Because at least then,” he whispered, “we can do this.”

And then he kissed you. Properly.

Deep and hungry, pressing you down into the cushions until you moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer as one of his hands slipped under your shirt.

“You-” you swallowed, trying to find words, but he stole them from you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “You expect me to believe this is why you hate double dates?”

“I expect you to understand,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck, “that if I ever go on one…” he nipped at your pulse, making you gasp. “…I’ll be thinking about this the entire time.”

Then - click.

The sound of the button of your pants being undone, followed shortly by the hiss of your zipper. You felt the warmth of his fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, resting over your hip bone.

Well, fuck.

“You’ll be sitting across from me,” he continued, voice so unfairly composed, so infuriatingly smooth, “pretending to listen to whatever they’re taking about.”

He tilted his head, kissing along your collarbone, then much lower. You made a mental note to always wear anything resembling a tank top in his presence from now on.

“And the entire time…” his fingers dipped just slightly beneath the elastic of your underwear.

You shuddered. “Aaron.”

He hummed, pleased - so deeply pleased - before finally sliding lower, his fingers finally brushing right where you needed him most.

You whimpered.

“I’ll be remembering,” he murmured, “exactly how you sound right now.”

Your back arched into his touch, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting into muscle as his fingers moved.

“And how you look,” he added, his lips brushing the curve of your breast, “when you fall apart for me.”

Your breath hitched-

And then.

Then-

He stopped.

Just - stopped.

His hands left you completely as he leaned back, settling onto his knees above you, looking far too pleased with himself.

You gaped at him, betrayed. “Are you kidding me?”

Aaron just smirked, gaze flicking over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uneven breathing, the way your body was still desperately aching for him.

“See?” he shrugged, voice so damn smug. “This is why I hate double dates.”

How funny would it be if these ended up being his last words?

You huffed, adjusting yourself on the couch, crossing your arms like you weren’t still ridiculously turned on and very annoyed about it. “Alright, you know what? Fine. No need to suffer through a double date if we just… conveniently wait to tell the team about us until after JJ and Will start going back out with Penelope and Kevin.”

Aaron smirked.

At least you’d both come to an agreement - the exact same procrastination tactic you’d been using, just with a new and improved excuse attached.

“…Smart girl.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathing heavily, still so deeply unsatisfied, as Aaron pressed a kiss to your temple, then stood, stretching his arms.

“I’ll clean the wine glasses,” he mused, already heading toward the kitchen. “And then I’ll be back to you.”

You stared at him.

He paused, glancing at you over his shoulder, smirking.

You huffed, sarcastic, “glad we could work this out.”

You were not glad. Not at all. Especially because not even a full minute later, your phone buzzed with a text.

From him.

From Mr. Clean himself, who was currently just a couple rooms away from you.

Lawyer, 8:43 PM:

Sweetheart, I hope you're ready, because I’m going to spread you out on that couch and fuck you so deep, you’ll still feel me when you sit at your desk tomorrow.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

"Garcia just told me how to get the cat," came his voice from the kitchen - so damn smug you could hear the smirk in it, followed the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

Before you could turn, before you could say anything, he was there - leaning in from behind the couch, arms sliding around you, caging you in, whispering into your ear -

"It was just a simple copy-paste."

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[traveler-at-heart]

Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn’t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

[vultursvolans]

— ☆ contents: dealing with dragon!form zhongli who possesses cat-like behaviours. human reader. dragon husband. sfw. fluff. established relationship. might be a little ooc. this is very unserious. 0.6k. | masterlist (i’m a dark content blog so mdni).

Dragon!Zhongli who acts much like an affectionate housecat despite his towering size and the magnitude of his status.

He, who is so comfortable around his human partner that he isn't afraid to bear his dragon form day-to-day, lest his cat-like behaviours (endearing as they are) go unnoticed.

Every time you run your fingers through the silk of his dark locks or scratch at the base of his horns, that's when it starts. A deep, soothing vibration beneath his scaled chest. The low rumble is almost hypnotic as his amber eyes drift closed, lulling him (and yourself) into a state of ease. If you remain watchful, you'll catch the corners of his lips curl ever-so-slightly upwards.

You can’t help but giggle because you know it’s not quite purring, but it might as well be.

Dragon!Zhongli whose tail is as much part of his personality as his deep voice and eloquent spiels. First and foremost, that thing is unapologetically heavy. When he’s in a good mood, it swishes around lazily, thumping against the furniture or brushing against your legs as he walks by.

Once it knocked over an entire stack of books and while you were busy laughing, he just sighed and said, “An unfortunate accident.” But if he’s feeling especially affectionate? Even worse. That's when you really have to watch out. It possessively curls around you and suddenly you’re dealing with the weight of a solid tail pulling you closer to him. You’ve almost toppled over a few times because of it.

“Careful, Zhongli,” you’ll tell him. “You might end up sweeping me off my feet.” Then he chuckles at you, tail tightening around your waist just a smidge.

That’s the idea, of course.

Dragon!Zhongli who feigns annoyance every time you act on your favourite habit: lifting his lips to inspect his fangs.

They’re a far cry from the tiny, delicate teeth of a cat, which is the only other creature you’ve subjected to this odd little inspection but that makes them even more fascinating.

"Must you do this every time?" he asks, lips pulling back just enough for you to admire them. They were sharp, pristine, and unsettlingly perfect. Enough to crack a bone with a single snap of his jaw but it was the same mouth he kissed you with. You never got used it.

"I'm lucky you’ve never nicked me with these," you’ll tease, brushing your finger along the largest fang.

Zhongli's responses are always the same: a long exhale as if you've just asked him to recite every contract he's ever known (which he could btw), followed by, “You’re enamoured with the oddest things.” But he lets you do it anyway. His words begin lose a bit of their weight when his tail slowly starts swaying behind him, exposing that he’s enjoying it more than he lets on.

And no one will ever believe you when you tell them how he is when he's feeling playful. It's a rarity but he'll nudge you gently with his horns as a display of affection and if you don't respond right away, he'll flick his tail at you. Not hard but enough for you to look his way.

Pay attention to me, it seems to say.

It’s mischievous, even if for a moment. Then you’ll catch a glint in his eye while he pretends to be all composed, but truly, he finds it amusing how he easily this form could be used as a weapon against you when he warrants his own needs.

The mighty dragon, who can command the earth itself, is stripped of his grandeur when you're around, replaced by a creature who wants nothing more than to be with you in the simplest way. And if you mention it, he’ll give you that look of half exasperation and half fondness before pulling you closer and acting like it’s purely your fault he’s such a softie with you.

a/n: if it wasn’t obvious already, i am a cat person (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[b3ach-bunn7]

READ YOUR MIND ~ JASON TODD

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 

But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.” 

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (11) || a.putellas

latest installment in fresa's filling the void universe ft some sol @girlgenius1111 filling the void (11) || a.putellas

“mija! ¿necesitas algo?” you sighed as suddenly the paragraph you’d been furiously scribbling down disappeared from memory at the interruption. “to be left alone.” you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes.

“no mami, gracias!” you called back within earshot now for the tenth time in an hour, finally allowed to study in your room, however the door had to be open and you may as well have been anywhere else with how often you were interrupted and the lack of any privacy.

you knew your mami meant well but every time she yelled for you your concentration was broken, and you’d barely made a dent into this report which was supposed to be submitted in a few days and counted quite significantly toward your overall grade for the semester. 

you knew if you asked for an extension you’d be granted one, but with nothing else to do (not allowed to do anything else with your ankle really) you were determined to get it done by the deadline. especially with the champions league final this coming weekend you wanted to have it submitted and out of mind before you all packed up and headed to bilbao.

frankly you were shocked you were even being permitted to go with your boot and crutches. you could get around just fine having somewhat gotten the hang of it, even with the purple bruises beneath your arms which were starting to be spottled with green and yellow. 

you knew alexia had her opinions on the matter given it was all the pair of you had gone back and forth about at dinner last night, until eli stepped in and firmly put a cork in the matter, banning the topic all together. 

that hadn’t stopped you however from threatening to stab your eldest sister in the hand yet again, and alba very subtly moving your cutlery out of reach now that dinner was done. but come this morning it seemed there was some finality, your ticket on the bus secured and the itinerary your uncle made for everyone for the weekend sat in your email inbox.

spying your airpods case sat on your bed you used your good foot to push away from the desk, the roller chair you were sat on gliding across your carpet with ease causing you to grin, having found a few new ways to get around without assistance the last couple of days.

your attention was diverted by the repeated pinging of your phone, airpods in hand and once again using your good foot to push off your bed and go spinning back toward your desk, you pulled yourself back into position in front of your open laptop. 

your eyebrows furrowed seeing a flurry of texts from the last person you’d guess to be responsible for them, the grumpy norwegian who despite your firm protests almost carried you back up to the front door after dropping you home post study session earlier this week.

‘hey peg leg’ your eyes rolled reading the first one, knowing she would have found the nickname hilarious despite how lame and unfunny you found it. ‘how is the boot?’was she asking how you were? ‘heavy. itchy. ugly. aren’t you in class?’

you realised the time and frowned a little, realising it wasn’t quite midday on a week day and solstrale should have been in school.

‘i skipped’‘

“to study. before you get on my ass about it.’

of course she skipped, your eyes almost rolled out of your head but before you could respond your phone pinged again with another two messages.

‘this book is missing the last two pages’ *picture attached*

a tiny smile graced your features looking at the all too familiar faded yellow cover, and maybe a little at the fact that for all her protests solstrale was actually reading the childrens books you’d instructed her to, but only a tiny bit.

‘so does the puppy make it home?’ the frown returned at that, eyebrows furrowed curiously as a few little dots appeared and you waited for another message, only as you started to type your reply, they disappeared.

‘puppy? did you even read it engen.’ you replied, leaning back in the roller chair and tucking your good leg up to your chest, wincing a little as you tried to roll your other foot that was cramping, encased in the stuffy itchy horrible awful boot with no sense of relief. 

‘yes? its about a dog that runs away. i’m not stupid dr putellas’ the smallest puff of air left your nose at that, potentially mistaken for a snicker at the other much more familiar nickname.

‘...are you sure? did you mix the books up? are you colour blind?’ you fired off the questions in a few short texts, smiling at yourself as the three little dots appeared again and you could almost see the look of annoyance etched into the norwegians features on the other end of the line.

‘no. this is red, right?’ *picture attached*

a involuntary bark of laughter left your lips at the picture of the very green book, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth at the joke. exiting out of the text thread your smile grew, eventually sending back an image of your own.

*picture attached*

you smirked as the dots popped up and went away again, having sent her a messily photoshopped screenshot of a booked in fake eye test, fingers drumming your desk as you awaited her reply. 

slightly offended she hadn’t found your joke as funny as you did, with a soured mood you put your phone down and exhaled, focus locking back into the half completed report, your curser blinking at you obnoxiously.

you fingered through the stack of papers to your right, trying to find a particular case study you remember seeing when you’d organised these last night. though that hadn’t lasted long and they were entirely out of order again.

your eyes darted back to your phone as it pinged, tapping the screen and leaning across to unlock it with your face, the text thread open again now with a new addition.

‘ha ha. i’ll leave that to you, four eyes.’

then it dawned on you just who you were actually texting and you mumbled something less than complimentary under your breath, huffing and picking your phone up again, paper once more abandoned in front of you.

‘you know the book is about a rabbit. not a dog, idiota.’

‘coneja = rabbit’

the reply came right away and your eyes almost rolled back into your head once they read it.

‘i thought the dogs name was coneja. its about a rabbit? why would a rabbit run away from home? thats dumb.’

“she’s dumb.” you mumbled to yourself, the norwegian seemingly able to get on your nerves from all the way across town.

‘its for ages 3-5, clearly too advanced for you.’

your attention was redirected by your stomach grumbling loudly. deciding you’d pick this back up after some brain food you reached over to close your laptop, placing your phone back down on the stack of papers you made a mental note to reorganise later.

with a grunt you stretched to grab your crutches, twisting around in the roller chair and pushing off, using the crutches like makeshift oars to propel the chair forward, out of your room and making your way down the hallway.

“fresa.” your mami sighed with a shake of her head as you came into view, coming to investigate the strange noise as you clunked and rolled your way toward the kitchen. “easier than walking.” you shrugged, stabbing at the sofa with one of your crutches and grinning as your chair spun around and flew backwards. 

wheels almost catching on the small lipped edge of the tiled kitchen floor and tipping backwards, you were already bracing to fall but jolted with surprise as hands steadied the back of your chair, quickly saving you from toppling over.

“¿qué haces? ¡estúpido!” you whined as one of those hands smacked the back of your head, sheltering yourself as your crutches went cluttering to the floor and green eyes glared down at you as you spun around. 

“mami she hit me!” you protested, still protecting your head as alba raised her hand again, eli clicking her tongue in warning as she lowered it, your older sister settling for flicking you sharply in the forehead instead and stepping back as you tried to swing back at her.

you heard the front door open and more footsteps enter, quiet murmur of a hushed conversation floating into the room. trying to grab one of your crutches to stab alba she quickly kicked them out of reach and shot you a smug smile.

rolling your chair now carefully over the bump in the tiles you stopped in the pantry, grabbing a bag of popcorn and pushing backwards out of the pantry, scooting yourself out of the kitchen as alba watched on with a weird look.

“pequeña why are-” alexia started with a sigh as she dropped her keys on the bookshelf and eyed you up in the roller chair, olga wandering in not long afterwards. “ale she hit me!” you immediately piped up, finger pointing accusingly at your other sister whose eyes rolled.

“such a baby.” alba mumbled, alexia moving to collect your crutches for you, eyes narrowed toward her younger sister who hurried to practically hide behind eli as olga hugged her hello. “no! estoy bien.” you smacked away the blondes hands who tried to manhandle you up and out of the chair.

“the idiota came flying in here and almost hit her head on the tiles.” alba now snitched you in as once again a hand smacked the back of your head and you hissed, sheltering yourself again and scoffing as alexia moved to kiss eli’s cheek.

“if you push me closer i will send you two photos of ale from the folder.” you whispered to olga whose hand squeezed your shoulder in hello, the older girl quirking an eyebrow curiously as you nodded. the little locked folder in your phone hardly a secret, filled with all sorts of unflattering and embarrassing photos of both your sisters you’d collected over the years for blackmail purposes.

hand moving to the back of the chair olga subtly rolled you a little closer as you gripped one of your crutches like a baseball bat, swinging it as soon as you were in striking distance and collecting alba across the back of her legs with a slap that echoed around the room.

your sister yelped in pain and spun toward you with venom in her eyes and curses dropping from her lips aimed at you, your own gaze narrowed at her challengingly with the crutch held up defensively like a sword, daring her to come any closer.

“oye! you, leave your hermana alone she is already in a boot. and you, stop using it as a weapon or i will take it away.” your mami raised her voice, staring the pair of you down as you huffed, lowering the crutch to lay across your lap.

“sí take them away, make the little worm crawl its way around.” alba taunted, flicking your ear as she passed and eli wasn’t looking, a smirk settling on your lips as alexias foot shot out from where she’d settled at the dining room table, leaving alba to stumble and almost fall flat on her face.

“why are you here? tienes casas?” you accused your sisters, alba moving to make herself comfortable on the sofa and flicking on the tv. “mami has work and you need supervision.” alexia answered, attention captured by her phone as you groaned loudly, head thumping back against the chair.

“you do not want to hang out?” alexia scoffed in offence as you mocked her under your breath. “not with you, olga can stay.” you shrugged honestly as your sisters girlfriend grinned. “pequeña!” alexia huffed as again you only shrugged.

“i need to study. so leave me alone, por favor!” you all but begged, alba already engrossed in some trashy reality show you’d probably join her watching if you didn’t wish to avoid yet another night of being fussed over and babied.

“but hermanita-” “i am rolling away.” you announced, using one of your crutches again like an oar to propel your rolling chair back out of the room, ignoring alexias calls after you. 

“oh mami woke up with an ache in her chest today, and would not call the doctor.” you poked your head around the hall and announced loudly, diverting the attention off yourself as sure enough both of your sisters pounced, an argument errupting that for once you were not apart of as you quietly closed your door with a small sigh of relief.

rolling yourself back into your desk you grabbed your phone and opened your laptop, eyes scanning the incoming texts from solstrale that you’d missed while out of your room.

‘yeah i prefer picture books, no words.’

‘so does the rabbit make it home?’

‘you know since you, little miss intelligent, gave me a book…missing the last two pages.’

‘???’

‘im sorry for saying your book is dumb (it is)’

‘but i do have to know what happened to the rabbit. did it die?’

‘good life lessons for kids; the cycle of life, your pet will eventually die.’

‘except for scout, scout will never die.’

‘did you happen to take AP history, dr putellas?’

a small snort left your mouth and you shook your head, nails you noted desperately needed a new manicure tapping against the screen as you chalked up another mental note to con alba into taking you to the salon before bilbao.

‘yes. the rabbit dies. good job engen, very perceptive.’

‘you better take care of those books or the next thing you study will be my sisters fist in your face, they are hers’

‘what is a scout?’

‘i did. why?’

you placed your phone down and your gaze switched back to the laptop screen in front of you, cursor still blinking mockingly at you, eyes flickering down to your phone every few seconds awaiting a reply. 

you huffed when you realised you were doing so, grabbing your phone and tossing it onto your bed with a thud, shaking your head and shifting in your seat, grabbing the case study you needed and flicking open your airpods.

connecting them to your laptop you clicked shuffle on your study playlist, finally finding a rhythm as the sound of typing filled the room, missing the repeated knocks on your door and squealing as a pillow hit the back of your head.

“he dicho que me dejes en paz!” you huffed as alexia leant in the doorway and you pulled out one of your airpods. “come watch a movie nena, alba wants to watch love island and i need another vote.” your sister nodded behind her pulling a face of disgust as you rolled your eyes.

“what about olga?” “she left, pilates.”

“well i’m busy. go away!” you retorted, spinning back around and ignoring the huffs and grumbles of your sister as she retreated, though not before asking about five questions about your foot and pain levels and stretches and blah blah. 

“alexia, the door!” you yelled after her when she left it open. “stays open.” the older girl called back as you silently screamed up at the roof. “i will be back in ten for your stretches fres. mami said you have to walk around and you can’t use the chair all day!” rolling yourself over to the bed you very ungracefully flopped yourself out of the chair, burying your face in a pillow and yelling.

your previous motivation now gone you winced as you realised your phone was tucked under you, awkwardly pushing up with your good foot to grab it, seeing solstrale had replied and a few of your friends had also reached out to see how you were doing and that they missed you at work.

with a smile you replied to those first before clicking into your thread with the older girl and scanning her texts.

‘your sister doesn’t scare me’

‘but yes your precious books are safe putellas, dead rabits and all’

‘scout is not a what, he is a who’

‘are you busy today?’

“a who?” you mumbled to yourself as you quickly typed your own messages back, eyebrows creased with confusion.

‘WHO is scout?’

‘yes me and my one foot on house arrest are very very busy.’

‘again, why?’

you didn’t need to wait as the three dots appeared again, calling out you were fine as alba yelled if you needed anything, barely five minutes having passed since alexia had come to bother you and you sighed realising you had hours of this to look forward to.

‘this is scout. he is an angel. (and he is very offended you forgot about him)’

*picture attached*

‘sorry peg leg i forgot your social calendar is jammed.’

you watched as the three dots popped up, and went away, and popped up, and went away again, the girl on the other side of the line taking her time as you started to write a reply to her previous messages. 

the photo was of a scruffy but adorable black and white cattle dog beaming at the camera and caused a smile to tug at your lips. you’d admittedly forgotten solstråle had a dog, or that his name was scout, but she had indeed shown you a photo of him before when she’d driven you to the library.

‘i have an exam tomorrow. would you be free for like an hour to help me study?’

‘if you can’t its fine.’

‘you probably have your own stuff to do.’

‘sorry forget i asked.’

or, maybe you wouldn’t be imprisoned here for hours after all, erasing your previous message and immediately clicking send on a new one.

‘pick me up in ten.’

you didn’t wait for a reply, instead spending the next few minutes trying to change out of the fluffy pyjama pants you’d lounged about in all day, determined not to ask for anyones help, especially either of your sisters.

“fresita! ven a ayudar con la cena.” you heard alexia call out for you, a little shocked she hadn’t just come and rolled you there herself, grabbing your crutches once you’d wrestled a sneaker onto your free foot.

your laptop and papers neatly stacked in your bag you awkwardly slung it over your shoulder best you could, tilting your body so it wouldn’t slide off as you very audibly crutched your way out of the room and down the hall.

alexia motioned you over as soon as you were within sight, alba still sprawled out on the couch glued to her reality show which given her shocked gasps every few seconds must have been good.

“i’m going out.” you announced, both of your sisters heads snapping up and eyes training on you, tv paused and alexia staring you down with a knife in hand, stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables.

“no, you are going to cut these. your ankle is broken, your hands work.” your eldest sister ordered gesturing to a few peppers sat on a cutting board on the dining room table. “no. i’m going out.” you held firm, straightening up slightly and jutting your chin out with a small huff.

“to do what? estás roto.” albas foot lightly tapped against one of your crutches as she passed you, disappearing into the pantry and ignoring alexias warnings not to eat anything before dinner, her motherly tone having you roll your eyes.

“to study with solstrale. you wanted me to help her ale, ¿sí?” you reminded with raised eyebrows, your sisters own eyes narrowing as she hummed, clearly displeased to have her own words used against her.

“sí, bien. alba will drive you then!” alexia announced, your other sisters head popping out of the pantry with a scowl, hand disappeared in a bag of popcorn as alexia told her off and threw a chunk of carrot at the younger girl which bounced harmlessly off her shoulder.

“solstrale is picking me up.” you informed, quickly checking your phone and noting the two new messages that the norwegian was in fact already here from a few minutes ago, eyes widening slightly. 

“save me some food!” you ordered pointing sternly at your eldest sister who couldn’t help but snicker at the demand, agreeing with a curt nod of her head. but before anyone else could say a word there was a knock at the door and you turned, starting to hobble your way there and groaning as a blur of blonde shot past you on two good feet.

clearly the norwegian wasn’t expecting alexia as you watched surprise fill her face, your sister glaring down at the younger girl who greeted her awkwardly. “¡muévete!” you elbowed alexia out of the way with a huff and a glare of your own shot toward her. 

“she cannot walk without the crutches. she must be home before dark. she cannot lift anything heavy. she cannot-” your sister started to rattle off stern warnings to solstrale who nodded along, grabbing your bag for you despite your assurances you had it.

“i know. your mami told me last time, i’ll make sure she is safe, stays off her ankle, and home on time.” solstrale promised, the confidence in her voice wiping the scowl temporarily off your sisters face and causing a slight smile to flicker across yours, alexia clearly shocked she hadn’t terrified the girl as much as she was clearly trying.

“solstrale no-” you started to protest but before you could even finish the sentence the girl had effortlessly lifted you, hands on your hips and carefully making her way down the front steps as you sighed.

“have fun pequeña.” alexia snickered and you turned your head to shoot her a dirty look as the norwegian gently placed you down. “i can walk!” you huffed the moment your feet touched the ground again, crutching away from her down the driveway toward your car. “you’re welcome.” the older girl muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“i can-” you started defensively as she hurried to catch up, leaning over to open your door for you. “you can open the door, i know putellas. but i have the keys to unlock it!” solstrale chuckled, pushing the key in the door and twisting, gesturing for you to open it yourself.

“do you need help?” the brunette mocked with a smile of amusement, watching you struggle to bend over and slide into the car with your crutches. “no! your car is just…too low.” you huffed, giving up and abandoning your crutches which clattered onto the cement, sliding in as sol ducked down to pick them up.

“well you’re low to the ground too.” she commented dryly, opening the back door and placing your crutches on the backseat before making her way around to the drivers seat as you scoffed. “was that a short joke?” you accused with raised eyebrows as she settled in and started up the car.

“sí, lo era.” “oh now you speak spanish?”

~

“oh por dios!” you groaned in disbelief, stopping in front of the double doors to the library and seeing the bright yellow closed for cleaning sign on the front. “what do they need to clean in a library?” solstrale commented from behind you with a frown and you gave her an annoyed look, turning around and starting to crutch your way back to the car.

“like do the books get dirty?” the girl continued to question as you rolled your eyes. “they are probably cleaning the carpets idiota, not the books! how would you clean a book eh? it is made of paper.” you scoffed, not protesting this time as solstrale took your crutches and opened the passenger door for you.

“well you obviously don’t use water. aren’t you supposed to be smart, dr putellas?” the norwegian accused as she slid into her own seat and you mocked her under your breath. “i liked it better when you were quiet.” you grumbled, but if the girl across from you heard she made no move to acknowledge it.

“are you hungry?” solstrale asked suddenly, car roaring to life as you gave her an odd look. “did you not want to study? your exam solstrale?” you reminded as the taller girl shrugged. “well i’m hungry. i can’t study on an empty stomach.” the brunette shoved her keys into the ignition as the engine spluttered to life.

“this is…eh how do you say it? kidnapping!” you struggled for a moment before finding the right word in english, solstrale rolling her eyes and you grimaced as her arm shot behind your seat so she could lean across and look over her shoulder while she backed out.

“you asked me to come and get you. so maybe you kidnapped me?” the girl mused, turning back to face the road as she pulled out of the library parking lot. “you are the one driving!” you scoffed with an annoyed scowl, the often stoic girl beside you seemingly well out of character today as she snickered.

“well i could just take you home to your sisters and-” “no! its fine. take a left, i know somewhere good to eat.”

~

“do you know the answer yet?” solstrale asked impatiently causing you to lose your place in the book, slowly lifting your eyes and narrowing them in her direction. “you ask me two minutes ago engen!” you accused, grabbing a fry and throwing it at her with a huff, the girl insisting on getting burgers despite your protests there were plenty of other good places around for more local tastes.

she won out when yet again she threatened to just take you home, causing you to slump into the passenger seat with a silent but simmering anger that she’d so easily figured out a way to manipulate you, hating that she seemed to have the upper hand.

“you said you read fast.” the norwegian defended herself with a grumble, busying herself finishing off your burger when you’d taken your attention off of it for a few seconds and she’d deemed you were finished.

which you were, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that as you’d still yelled at her for it in spanish, knowing she understood most of what you said even if she pretended not to as she took a large bite and returned her attention to her phone.

you were interrupted from scanning her history textbook when solstrale let out a noise of disgust, spitting out a mouthful of food causing your face to scrunch up in disdain at the action. “you got pickles on yours?” the norwegian asked in disbelief, quickly opening the leftover burger and flicking the remaining two off as if they were an active bomb.

“¿sí? son la mejor parte.” you defended, dropping the pickles into your mouth as solstrale faked a gag. “i hate pickles.” the brunette shook her head, shoveling the last bite of burger in her mouth and wiping her hands on her pants. 

“vale! this chapter, read it and take notes.” you finally found what you were looking for, nails tapping on the page as you turned the book back around and slid it across the table. you were expecting pushback or for her to ask you to read and answer it for her, but to your surprise solstrale actually did what you asked.

you were pulled from your thoughts by your phone chiming a few times, rolling your eyes when it was alexia checking in for easily the fifteenth time since you left the house. you’d think you’d gone international and weren’t about twenty minutes away.

“alexia?” solstrale guessed at the sour look on your face as you only hummed, ignoring your eldest sisters request that you share your location with her and exiting out of your message thread. “puta!” you swore suddenly as your eyes scanned the texts from alba, eyebrows furrowing angrily as your nails clacked furiously against your phone screen.

“what engen?” you could feel her eyes piercing into your forehead as you stopped and looked up, solstrales cheeks flushing slightly pink as your gaze locked momentarily. “what solstrale?” you asked a little less aggressively and with a sigh, picking up that clearly she wanted to ask something.

“do you not understand or-” you motioned to the textbook as the norwegian shook her head. “no i just-don’t worry.” she shook her head and dropped her eyes down to the page as you didn’t bother to press her for it, resuming your very sharp tongued message to your older sister.

“what?” you felt her eyes on you once again as you clicked send and dropped your phone to the table, raising an eyebrow as her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “those.” she nodded down to your nails with a slight frown.

“those…” you repeated as you weren’t quite following what she was getting at. “they’re kinda sharp? or like…long? how do you…” she made a few hand gestures as your eyes widened finally clicking what it was she was trying to say. “wipe my ass? like a normal person does sol! i do not stick them up there, dios mío!” you cringed at the insinuation as it went quiet.

then all of a sudden you heard some strange noises, glancing up and seeing the girl across from you bite down hard on her bottom lip, clearly trying to suppress herself from laughing. But it must have been contagious as then you felt your own lip twitch, a hand coming to cover your mouth but a slight snicker leaving it before you could.

within seconds the pair of you gave up on that, solstrale breaking first and you joining in right away, your laughter echoing around the small park you were sat at in the sun, books and food sprawled across a picnic table you’d commandeered. 

“i knew you had a stick up your ass putellas.” solstrale smirked once you both got a little more control over yourselves. “shut up and do your homework engen.” you snarked back but there wasn’t any bite behind it, tossing a cold fry at her head as she batted it away and looked back to her textbook still with a small smile.

you sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, eyes closed and head tilted backward, soaking up the last of the mid afternoon sun while you rolled your boot encased ankle and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, knowing the moment you got home alexia would be on you in a millisecond about your rehab exercises you’d not yet done today.

“so why is alexia a puta?” you were pulled from your thoughts, cracking an eye open and shielding your face from the sun. “not alexia, my other hermana alba. we watch a show and normally we sit and watch together but she watched ahead without me!” you puffed air from your nose with annoyance, your sister texting you the spoilers for the last two episodes you had been waiting for her to watch with you.

“then she texted me spoilers and i have been avoiding them all week but they are everywhere. so now i know anita cheated on montoya and i will have to catch up alone because alba will not watch it again with me!” you huffed, crossing your arms and glaring off into the distance.

“temptation island?” solstrale spoke without realising, colour filling her cheeks again as your head whipped toward her like lightning. “la isla de las tentaciones. you watch it?” you gasped, solstrale scoffing and shaking her head no immediately.

“no! ingrid and mapi watch it.” she rolled her eyes as you looked on unconvinced. “but you know the contestant names?” you asked with a small smile as the norwegian mocked you under her breath. “you so watch it. admítelo engen!” you grinned as she shot you a glare, snapping her textbook closed and starting to hastily shove her things into her backpack.

“vamos, you are throwing a tantrum?” you mocked with a pout, solstrale again shooting you a dirty look as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and rounded the table. “no. its almost your curfew, peg leg.” the older girl grumbled, a slight squeal leaving your mouth as she grabbed your hands and hauled you up, steadying you on your crutches which almost slipped.

“so which couple do you think will last?” you asked as she took off and you crutched after her across the park toward the car, loving that this was clearly getting under her skin and she was obviously trying to hide the fact she enjoyed spanish reality shows.

you asked a few more questions teasingly but all remained unanswered as solstrale stayed silent, opening the door and helping you into the car without a word, tossing your crutches in the back as you did up your seatbelt.

your opportunity to annoy her further was smothered as solstrale plugged her phone in and turned the volume of the sound system right up, having you wince slightly as the car engine roared and she pushed the hand brake down.

you were shocked that a few of the songs which played during the ride home you actually knew, a couple you even liked enough that they already sat on rotation in some of your playlists, but you wouldn’t let her know that.

you took the chance where there was a break in between songs and you were almost back home, leaning forward and turning down the sound as solstrale gave you a look and reached to turn it back up, surprise flickering across her face as you smacked her hand away when she tried.

“my car. my music. don’t touch putellas!” but again when she tried to turn it up you slapped at her hand. “i need to ask you something. it is important.” you warned seriously, solstrale turning onto your street and nodding slowly for you to continue, intrigued by whatever it was you had to say.

you let out a sigh as if collecting yourself for a moment, the norwegian pulling into the driveway and if you’d been looking you’d have seen your eldest sisters head pop through the curtains like a guard dog at the sound of the engine.

“well?” solstrale waved for you to speak as you turned to look at her, inhaling deeply as her eyebrows furrowed together with slight concern. “do you think montoya will cheat on anita for revenge?” you asked seriously, solstrales face morphing into a scowl as yours perked up into an innocent smile.

“get out.” the norwegian sighed with a roll of her eyes as your smile grew, sufficiently satisfied you’d gotten under her skin again. “do not help me! i have it.” your smile dropped as you heard her unbuckle herself to get out, huffing in determination and though it took a minute or two managing to shuffle out of your seat.

balancing on your good foot you hopped a couple paces to the left, opening the back door and reaching in for your crutches, steadying yourself on them and kicking the door closed again with your good foot.

“well…adiós.” you spoke a little awkwardly, unsure quite what to say as solstrale simply gave you a small salute, you crutching your way down the driveway before she could have had the chance to say anything, watching to make sure you got inside okay before she took off home.

the front door was already open and alexia leant across the frame the moment you got out of the car, sending your sister a fierce glare when she stepped forward to help you up the stairs once you were closer. “i will stab you with them alexia.” you warned seriously when your first look went ignored.

“la actitud.” the older girl muttered with an unapproving shake of her head, but of course still ignoring you, an arm wrapping around your torso and practically carrying you up the stairs and back into the house.

“a la mierda!” your sister cried out when she let go of you and true to your word you suddenly jabbed her in the ribs with the end of one of your crutches, alba laughing from the sofa behind you as you turned and held up your crutch threateningly, your sister ooohing sarcastically.

though before you could launch the crutch at alba like a javelin it was snatched from your grasp, causing you to lose your balance and lurch to the side, collapsing into your eldest sisters awaiting grasp as she helped you slowly make your way around to sit down.

“you can have these back later.” the blonde warned seriously, confiscating your crutches you muttered something less than kind under your breath as she took them away. “boot off pequeña! do your exercises!” her voice echoed in from the kitchen as you groaned, body sliding down the sofa until you were slumped over in a weird angle, well aware you had maybe two or three minutes to do so of your own free will before it was done for you.

“how was your study date diablillo?” alba questioned from the other end of the sofa, eyebrows raised curiously as you scoffed. “it was not a date!” you emphasized, pulling a face that had your sisters lips curling up into a smirk.

“i did not mean it was a date.” your sister started, turning around a little more to look you over as you rolled your eyes, reaching for the remote which sat between you and scowling as her foot kicked out to knock it away and out of reach.

“did you want it to be a date?” your older sister continued to question with a teasing tone, crossing her arms and grinning as you chose to ignore her, pushing your torso up to grab your phone from your back pocket.

“are you going to text your date hermanita?” aba pouted mockingly as you gave her a filthy look. “date? who went on a date? you went on a date? when? where? with who?” alexia practically flew into the room as you exhaled heavily, dropping your phone onto your stomach and sliding even further down the sofa.

“no. la idiota is talking about solstrale, ingrids sister.” alexia seemed to relax at that, telling off your other sister for teasing you and smacking her legs out of the way, occupying the empty seat between you. “ale!” you protested as she grabbed your legs, manhandling them into her lap and unlacing your sneaker and starting to undo the velcro clasps of your moon boot.

but your protests fell on deaf ears as sure enough your sister expertly started to roll and rotate your broken ankle, knowing your rehab plan like the back of her hand as you gave in with another deep sigh, reporting back how the pain was out of ten after each exercise.

“oye! ¿para qué era eso?” alba accused with a groan as you grabbed your now unlaced sneaker from your good foot and threw it over alexias shoulder, smacking your sister perfectly in the side of the head with a satisfied nod.

“for spoiling la isla de las tentaciones, puta!”

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: How to Ruin a Plot || Jade Leech

When you end up as the villainess in a story that's hellbent on making her suffer for no reason, you decide to make the main characters suffer just for catharsis. Good thing that your fiancé, Jade Leech seems to like chaos as much as you.

Series Masterlist

Dinner wasn’t much to write home about—a plate of lukewarm spaghetti that could generously be described as "functional," paired with a salad so sad it could star in its own soap opera. But you had something better: entertainment.

And by entertainment, you meant the literary dumpster fire currently sitting in your hands.

This book. This book.

The plot was so catastrophically terrible that it looped around to being hilarious. You chewed your subpar spaghetti and flipped a page, trying not to laugh too hard at the sheer absurdity of what you were reading.

The villainess, a talented duchess and renowned potion maker, was saddled with some of the worst clients in existence. The saintess—of course, she was a saintess, because originality was clearly out of the question—was engaged to the Duke of the North. Why? Who knows. It wasn’t like they seemed to like each other. In fact, she was also having a very public affair with the prince.

And not just any prince. A balding prince.

Because nothing screams “romantic rival” like the slow and tragic retreat of one’s hairline.

They were both the worst. The kind of people who would demand a 12-step skincare routine from their servants but would balk at paying them a living wage. When the villainess refused to make them more potions for ridiculous requests like “immunity to insults” (seriously?), they decided to frame her for crimes and have her executed.

The sheer audacity.

But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. The villainess had a fiancé—Jade Leech, poor guy—who tried his best to help her escape. And what did she do? Sacrificed herself so he wouldn’t get dragged into her mess. Noble, sure, but also infuriating because she died for them.

And then Jade, now heartbroken and understandably bitter, became the main antagonist. Only to be defeated by the same cartoonishly bland protagonists who caused the entire mess.

It was like someone handed a six-year-old a book contract and said, “Go wild, kid. Just make sure it has betrayal and love triangles, and throw in some magic potions or something.”

You forked another sad tangle of spaghetti into your mouth and tried not to choke from laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. The characters had all the depth of a kiddie pool, the plot holes were big enough to drive a carriage through, and the pacing? What pacing? This story had clearly decided pacing was for cowards.

You flipped to another page, nearly snorting when the saintess justified her affair by saying, “It’s what the goddess would want."

Sure, Jan.

And just as you were about to take another bite of dinner, it happened.

A mushroom. A mushroom.

You didn’t even realize it had slipped into your spaghetti until it was already lodged in your throat. Panic set in as you clawed at your neck, gasping for air while your brain helpfully supplied one last thought:

Can’t believe a mushroom took me out. Goddammit.

And then everything went dark.

The first thing you notice is the carpet: thick, plush, and entirely too luxurious for someone who had been laughing themselves to death over garbage-tier literature just moments ago. The second thing you notice is that you’re alive, which is great. Except you’re no longer in your cozy little living room.

No, you’re in a gothic mansion straight out of an interior decorator's fever dream. Dark wood, brooding paintings, and vials of suspicious liquids lined up neatly on shelves. For a second, you think you’ve wandered into a Dracula fan convention, but then it hits you.

The novel. The Poisoned Duchess and the Frozen Heart of the North.

You scramble to your feet, heart pounding. “No. No, no, no, no,” you mutter, sprinting to the nearest mirror. A familiar (and obnoxiously beautiful) face stares back at you. Elegant curls, piercing eyes, and an expression that could curdle milk. Yep. You’re the Duchess—the villainess who gets executed for daring to have standards.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan, gripping the edge of the vanity. “I was just making fun of this! How did I end up here? Is this karma? Did the mushroom do this?!”

You spend a good ten minutes pacing the room, muttering to yourself like a squirrel with a caffeine problem. “Okay, okay, think. The Saintess and the Prince are nuts, and they’re gonna come here demanding potions for their ridiculous nonsense like ‘immunity to sarcasm’ or whatever. Solution? Close the shop. Sell it. Let some other poor soul deal with their unhinged requests. Genius! But what next? What about the fiancé—oh god, Jade!”

Jade Leech. The fiancé you had casually dismissed in your tirade against the novel. The one who was supposed to be self-sacrificing, and eventually doomed. But now he’s your fiancé, and you’re not about to let him become collateral damage in this flaming dumpster fire of a plot.

“We’ll run away!” you declare, pointing dramatically at an imaginary horizon. “We’ll elope, move to some peaceful countryside, grow tomatoes, and live a happy, Saintess-free life. Screw the plot. Screw the Duke. Screw the Saintess and her balding fiancé—”

You’re mid-sentence when the sound of a door opening interrupts your theatrical monologue. You spin around and freeze.

Standing in the doorway is Jade Leech himself. And oh boy, the novel did not do him justice. His sharp features, soft teal hair, and piercing eyes make your brain short-circuit. The man looks like he walked out of an ethereal fairy tale and promptly decided to make everyone else look like peasants.

He leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and raises a brow. “Well, this is quite the scene to walk into.”

You blink. And then you blink again, because your brain is still stuck on handsome fiancé alert. “Uh…”

Jade smirks, clearly amused. “Is this a private performance, or can anyone join? Because I’m not sure who you’re planning to screw, but it sounds… ambitious.”

You want to die all over again. “I—uh, would you… like to join my plans?”

His eyes gleam with mischief. “Plans, you say? That depends. Do these plans involve anything more exciting than managing a potion shop?”

“Yes! So much more exciting!” you blurt out. “We close the shop, sell it, cause some chaos, run away, and live happily ever after far away from this stupid place! No Saintess. No Duke. Just… us. Tomatoes. Maybe a goat.”

Jade chuckles, the sound warm and entirely too pleasant for your frazzled state of mind. “You’ve certainly caught my interest. All right, I’m in. A little chaos sounds much better than… whatever normalcy is supposed to look like.”

He steps closer, and you swear your brain bluescreens again because wow, personal space doesn’t exist here, huh? Jade offers his hand, his smile sharp but oddly sincere. “So, where do we start, my prodigal Duchess?”

You take his hand, still half-dazed. “Step one: Screw the Saintess.”

He laughs again. “Now that’s the kind of plan I can get behind.”

Meeting Jade's brother was like getting hit by a rogue wave of chaos. You'd thought Jade was the wild card of the family, but then Floyd Leech burst into the room like a hurricane wearing a grin.

He looked at you with an intensity that made you feel like you were being appraised for your entertainment value, then immediately announced, "You wanna screw with the Saintess and the Duke? Oh, I’m in.”

You stared at him for a long moment, then at Jade, who gave you an apologetic shrug, clearly used to Floyd’s… energy. You decided, then and there, that you were extremely lucky to have been paired with the Leech brother who at least pretended to respect social norms.

Floyd, however, was a force of nature and, admittedly, a useful one. He seemed far too enthusiastic about the chaos you were planning, but hey, when life gives you a human typhoon, you use it to wreak havoc.

Then there was Azul Ashengrotto. Meeting him felt less like talking to a person and more like negotiating with an overly polite shark. “I can provide you protection,” he said smoothly, pushing a contract toward you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You glanced at the contract, then back at him. “And what does this… "protection" demand in return?”

“Oh, nothing too demanding,” Azul said, waving his hand as if it was all very casual. “Just a few favors in return. Small things, really.”

You stared at the fine print and felt your soul start to sweat. This wasn’t just protection—it was a fast track to selling your soul to the fish mafia.

“Tell you what,” you said, shoving the contract back toward him. “I’ll sell the potion shop to you for cheap if you help me with whatever plans I come up with.”

Azul tilted his head, intrigued. “And what’s in it for me?”

“You get to own the best potion shop in the kingdom without dealing with the Saintess and her entourage of entitlement.”

His eyes gleamed. “Done. But if you get arrested, you won’t mention my name.”

“Deal,” you said, shaking his hand. Internally, you made a note to burn the shop down if things went south. Better a pile of ash than Azul owning it and your dignity.

The next day, you decided to drop by a boutique to prepare for the Saintess’s tea party. Not because you cared about the event, but because you cared very deeply about ruining her day.

You knew exactly what she was planning to wear—some pastel monstrosity—and you were determined to outshine her. You’d wear an upgraded version of her outfit, but classier, sharper, and absolutely dripping with pettiness.

The boutique owner was taking your measurements when you told them to send the bill to your butler. That was when Jade, who had been quietly browsing nearby, strolled over. He casually slid his arm around your waist, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and said, “Send the bill to me.”

You whipped around, scandalized. “Excuse me?!”

He leaned in, his mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just want everyone to know you’re my fiancée,” he murmured, his voice low and entirely too close to your ear.

Your brain promptly blue-screened. He was too close, his scent too distracting, and his hand on your waist was doing things to your equilibrium. The boutique owner pretended not to notice your obvious malfunction, but Jade? Jade looked like he was having the time of his life.

“Fine,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you tried to collect the scattered pieces of your dignity.

“Good,” Jade said, his smirk widening.

He didn’t let go of you after that. Oh no, he kept his hand firmly on the small of your back as you left the boutique. Every step was an exercise in not collapsing from the sheer audacity of his touch.

Meanwhile, Jade looked perfectly at ease, as if his sole purpose in life was to see how long it would take you to spontaneously combust.

By the time you got back to the mansion, you were sure of one thing: Jade Leech was going to be the death of you, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The tea party was shaping up to be the highlight of your career as a petty agent of chaos. You arrived late, naturally—nothing screams “I’m better than you” quite like waltzing in when everyone’s already seated.

The moment you stepped into the pavilion, a collective gasp swept through the crowd. Your dress—custom-tailored, one-of-a-kind, and effortlessly overshadowing every other outfit there—practically glowed in the sunlight.

The Saintess, perched at the head of the table, turned to greet you, her expression instantly souring when she caught sight of your gown. Oh, you could practically hear the cogs in her head screeching to a halt as she realized you’d completely outdone her.

“Oh my,” you said, offering a demure smile as you made your way to your seat. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” she replied, her voice as sweet as arsenic. “What a… bold choice of dress.”

“Oh, this?” You gestured casually, as though you weren’t wearing something that could stop traffic. “My fiancé picked it out for me. He has such excellent taste, don’t you think?”

You didn’t need to look directly at her to see the way her jaw clenched. You could feel her rage simmering from across the table. After all, her own fiancé, or even the Balding Prince, hadn’t bothered to buy her a dress, let alone one that could compete with yours. You almost felt bad for her. Almost.

From there, the afternoon devolved into a series of increasingly petty power plays.

When the Saintess poured herself a cup of tea, you made a point to remark on how “rustic” her teapot was.

When she complimented the garden’s flowers, you chimed in with, “Oh, are these the same ones you tried to grow last year? I remember hearing how they all died!”

Every little comment was a carefully aimed dart, and she was too polite—or perhaps too afraid of snapping in public—to retaliate. The guests, of course, were eating it up.

The pièce de résistance came when the Balding Prince himself approached you during the party.

“I need a potion,” he said, puffing himself up like a rooster trying to assert dominance. “For my, uh, hair.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. Of all the scenarios you’d envisioned, this was not one of them.

“Your hair?” you echoed, doing your best to keep a straight face. “What kind of potion are we talking about here? Growth? Volume? Shine?”

The Prince’s eye twitched. “That’s… none of your business,” he snapped.

Before you could respond, Jade—bless him—“accidentally” bumped into the Prince from behind, sending his ridiculous feathered hat tumbling to the ground.

The gasp that followed was deafening.

There it was, in all its glory: the shiny, blinding expanse of the Prince’s balding crown, gleaming like a beacon of despair in the afternoon sun.

For a moment, the pavilion was silent. Then someone coughed. Then someone else giggled. And before long, the entire tea party was a symphony of poorly stifled laughter.

“It’s, uh, a royal tradition!” the Prince stammered, clutching his hat and jamming it back onto his head. “A sign of wisdom and… and…”

He trailed off, clearly out of excuses, and fled the scene faster than you’d ever seen anyone run in formalwear.

The Saintess looked like she was about to implode. Unfortunately for her, the Third Male Lead (Yes, there were 3 of them) chose that exact moment to swoop in, all charm and wit as he began lavishing her with attention. You leaned back in your chair, sipping your tea and basking in the chaos like a cat who’d just knocked over an entire shelf of priceless antiques.

“Nice work,” you murmured to Jade, holding up your hand for a discreet high five.

Instead of obliging, he grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours, the smirk on his face practically criminal.

“You’re far more fun than I expected,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You stared at him, your brain immediately short-circuiting. Your default response to most situations was sarcasm or snark, but this? This was uncharted territory.

“Uh… thanks?” you managed, your voice coming out embarrassingly squeaky.

Jade chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as if to emphasize just how flustered you were.

“Come on,” he said, his tone far too casual for someone who’d just ruined you in front of an audience. “Let’s go cause more trouble.”

He kept his hand on the small of your back as you walked away from the pavilion, and you were pretty sure your soul left your body every time he leaned in to whisper some biting comment about the Saintess or her rapidly expanding collection of admirers.

One thing was certain: you were having the time of your life, and this was only the beginning.

The day begins innocently enough, which should have been your first warning.

You’re peacefully reading in the library, enjoying the silence, when Floyd barrels in like a hurricane. “Oi, c’mon, you gotta help me!” he hisses, grabbing your wrist before you can protest.

“Help you with what?” you manage to ask as you’re dragged down the corridor, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“It’s Jade,” Floyd says ominously. “He’s made mushrooms again.”

Ah, that explains it. You’ve heard rumors about Jade’s culinary experiments, but you’d yet to experience them firsthand.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Floyd grins, the kind of grin that promises nothing good. “Well, I told him you love mushrooms.”

You stop dead in your tracks. “You what?”

Before you can bolt, Floyd shoves you through the greenhouse door and slams it shut behind you.

Inside, the room is warm and humid, filled with the earthy scent of soil and plants. At the far end, Jade is bent over a terrarium, meticulously arranging its contents with tweezers.

He looks up when he hears you enter, his expression brightening. “Ah, you’re here!”

Your heart sinks.

Floyd’s words echo in your mind—you love mushrooms. If only he knew. Mushrooms were the reason you got isekai’d in the first place, and the trauma of choking on one is still fresh in your memory. But now, faced with Jade’s expectant gaze and a plate of what looks like sautéed mushrooms on the table, you realize you’re trapped.

“Floyd said you were eager to try these,” Jade says, his tone polite but unmistakably pleased.

You glance at the mushrooms, then back at Jade. He looks so hopeful, like someone who’s spent hours perfecting a recipe and is finally sharing it with someone who’ll appreciate it. You swallow hard.

“Of course!” you say, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “I love mushrooms.”

You sit down at the table, and Jade places the plate in front of you. The mushrooms actually smell... good. Earthy and buttery, with a hint of garlic and herbs.

“Bon appétit,” he says, watching you intently.

You pick up a fork, your hands trembling slightly, and stab a piece. You can do this, you tell yourself. It’s not the mushroom’s fault you died. It’s just food.

With one final breath, you pop the piece into your mouth.

...It’s delicious.

The flavor is rich and savory, perfectly balanced, and the texture is tender without being mushy. You blink in surprise, then take another bite.

“Good?” Jade asks, and there’s a slight smugness in his tone.

“It’s amazing,” you admit, unable to stop yourself from eating more.

Jade’s smile widens, and something in his expression softens.

After finishing the plate, you linger in the greenhouse as Jade continues tending to his terrariums. You watch him work, his hands deft and precise as he rearranges moss, misting the plants with care.

“Need help with anything?” you ask, feeling unexpectedly at ease.

He glances at you, then gestures to a nearby shelf. “If you don’t mind organizing the vials, that would be helpful.”

You nod and get to work, sorting the various bottles of nutrients and spores while Jade hums softly under his breath. The atmosphere is peaceful, the kind of quiet that feels alive rather than stifling.

Once the terrariums are in perfect order, Jade brews a pot of tea, and you both sit at a small table nestled among the plants. The tea is fragrant, its warmth soothing as you take a sip.

Jade sits across from you, one hand resting lightly on the table. Absentmindedly, you reach out and place your hand over his.

He freezes for a moment, his eyes flicking to your joined hands. His usual calm demeanor falters, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “You’re quite bold,” he murmurs, though there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You suppress a grin, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before turning your attention back to your tea. “And you’re holding my hand,” you point out casually.

“I suppose I am,” he says, his voice steady again, though his ears are noticeably red.

The two of you sit there for a while longer, sipping tea and enjoying the greenhouse’s serenity. Jade, ever the polite menace, pretends to be unfazed, but you catch him glancing at your joined hands more than once.

You smile into your cup, the taste of mushrooms and tea lingering on your tongue.

You wake up to the sound of maniacal laughter, the kind that belongs to either an evil overlord or someone who just discovered how to unlock infinite in-game currency. For one groggy moment, you wonder if the devil himself has come to collect you for your sins. But as your eyes flutter open, reality (and dread) sets in.

It’s not the devil. It’s Floyd.

“Why?” you croak, sitting up in your chair and rubbing your eyes. “Why are you like this?”

Jade, ever the epitome of composed chaos, is sitting calmly across from you, sipping tea and looking highly amused. “Ah, you’re awake,” he says with a smile that suggests nothing good is about to happen.

“I had the best idea!” Floyd exclaims, still cackling. “It’s gonna be hilarious!”

Jade gives you a knowing look, the kind that says, This is going to be a disaster, but I want to watch it unfold.

You should probably shut this down. You should. But instead, you wave a hand and mumble, “Sure, go wild.”

It turns out “wild” was underselling it.

Floyd’s “brilliant” idea? Convince the Saintess to organize a grand sword-fighting competition under the premise that the Balding Prince would absolutely win. To no one’s surprise (except maybe the Saintess), she fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“She’s been gushing about how he’s ‘a natural-born warrior,’” Floyd reports gleefully during the planning phase. “She’s even betting on him!”

You glance at Jade, who is practically glowing with smug anticipation. That should have been your first clue to intervene. Instead, you shrug and think, Eh, it’ll be fine.

It was, in fact, not fine.

When the announcement of the tournament goes public, the Balding Prince—bless his fragile ego—realizes he has a slight problem. Namely, the fact that he’s never held a sword in his life, let alone used one. Naturally, he comes crawling to you.

“I need a potion,” he demands, his tone somewhere between entitled and desperate. “To, uh, enhance my… swordsmanship.”

You lean back in your chair, trying to look unimpressed. “Oh, I don’t sell potions anymore,” you say airily.

The Prince glares at you, his bald spot gleaming under the room’s chandelier. “I’ll pay you.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“How about enough gold to fund your entire territory for the next twenty years?”

You sit up straight. “You drive a hard bargain, Your Highness.”

The potion you make for him is top-notch—for two hours. After that, well, let’s just say it’s going to be a long day for the Balding Prince.

The tournament goes about as chaotically as you expect. Jade, a genuinely skilled swordsman, carves his way through every round with ease. The Prince, meanwhile, is barely holding on, relying entirely on the potion to scrape by. Somehow, by sheer luck and Floyd’s endless meddling, the Prince manages to make it to the final round.

By this point, the Saintess is practically glowing with excitement, convinced her fiancé is about to cement his status as a legendary warrior. “He’s going to win for sure!” she squeals, clapping her hands.

You sip your tea, barely suppressing your smirk. Oh, sweet summer child.

The final round begins with Jade and the Prince stepping into the arena. The crowd roars with anticipation. The Saintess is preening in the stands, while the Empress looks vaguely mortified, as though she knows what’s about to happen but can’t stop it.

And then, right on cue, the potion wears off.

The Prince’s stance falters immediately, his grip on the sword going from “warrior” to “child holding a bat for the first time.” Jade doesn’t even have to try. One expertly placed strike sends the Prince’s weapon flying across the arena, and the match ends with the Prince sprawled on the ground, dazed and defeated.

The crowd erupts into laughter, and you’re pretty sure you see the Emperor facepalm.

To add insult to injury, the Emperor himself has to present the winner’s diadem to Jade. But instead of wearing it himself, Jade turns to you with a wicked grin.

“For you, my dear,” he says, placing the diadem on your head with a flourish.

The crowd loses it.

The Empress looks like she’s contemplating disowning her son on the spot. The Saintess bursts into tears and flees the arena, with the Prince stumbling after her, trying to explain his humiliating defeat.

You, meanwhile, stand in the center of the chaos, smiling peacefully.

“This,” you murmur, “is the best day of my life.”

The market was lively, the kind of lively that felt one loose cart wheel away from utter chaos. You’d gone there to buy something mundane—perhaps herbs, maybe a decorative pot, who even remembered anymore? What you did remember was spotting Azul, impeccably dressed as usual, standing at a stall that sold ornamental quills.

“Azul!” you called out, dragging Jade with you as you made your way over.

Azul turned, one brow arching as he spotted the two of you. “Ah, the duchess and her ever-present shadow. What brings you here?”

“Just window shopping,” you said vaguely, though Jade’s sudden fascination with terrarium accessories suggested otherwise.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, the three of you were headed to a charming little café. It had the kind of ambiance that said, I’m wildly overpriced, but look at our aesthetic! Jade held the door open for you, and you stepped inside, marveling at the array of desserts in the display case.

You barely had time to settle into your seat when the atmosphere shifted.

There she was.

The Saintess.

You tried to ignore her, truly, but her obnoxious aura was as subtle as a bull in a porcelain shop. She was seated nearby, flanked by her entourage of lackeys. They whispered, they giggled, and they kept looking at you. You rolled your eyes and leaned closer to Jade and Azul, focusing on your conversation.

But peace, as usual, was not in the cards.

One of the lackeys—a girl who had the smug look of someone who thought her two brain cells were revolutionary—approached your table. In her hands was a steaming cup of tea, and the moment you saw it, a sense of foreboding settled over you.

And then, with all the subtlety of a villain in a children’s cartoon, she “tripped.”

The tea flew through the air in slow motion, a graceful arc of impending disaster. You braced for impact, but Jade moved faster. He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the scalding liquid. Most of it missed him, but a splash landed on his hand.

“Jade!” you exclaimed, grabbing his arm to inspect the burn.

Meanwhile, the lackey straightened herself up, not even bothering to fake remorse. “Oops,” she said, her tone so insincere it could’ve curdled milk. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You carried a boiling cup of tea across the room, aimed it at our table, and ‘accidentally’ threw it at us?”

She shrugged, her smirk widening. “My dad will pay for any damages. And you’re overreacting. It’s just tea.”

Overreacting? Oh, you were about to react, all right.

Azul, meanwhile, was unusually quiet. His tie had been stained in the splash zone, and his tight-lipped smile was beginning to look like it could crack glass.

The lackey continued, oblivious to the metaphorical storm clouds gathering over Azul. “Anyway, if you keep making a scene, it’ll just look bad for you. My dad’s pretty important, you know.”

“Oh?” Azul said suddenly, his voice as smooth as silk but with an edge sharp enough to cut steel. “And who might your father be?”

The lackey puffed up with pride. “He’s the finance manager for the duchess’s estate!”

There was a beat of silence. You exchanged a glance with Azul, and then your lips curled into a predatory smile.

“Azul,” you said sweetly, “guess whose daddy is about to lose his job?”

The ride back to your estate was tense—for you, at least. Jade sat calmly beside you, his hand resting on his knee, but you couldn’t stop fussing over his burn.

“Stop squirming,” you said, dabbing at his hand with a damp cloth.

“I’m fine,” Jade insisted, though his amused tone suggested he was enjoying your concern far too much.

“You’re not fine,” you retorted. “What if it scars? What if it gets infected?”

“Then I’ll have a mark to remember your attention by,” he said, his lips twitching into a half-smile.

You glared at him, but your fussing didn’t stop. By the time you reached the estate, you were practically vibrating with righteous fury.

The finance manager stood in your office, visibly confused.

“You’re fired,” you said bluntly.

His jaw dropped. “What? Why?”

You crossed your arms, your smile as sharp as a blade. “Ask your daughter.”

“What does she have to do with this?” he demanded, his face turning red.

“Everything,” you replied. “Guards, escort him out.”

He sputtered and protested, but you didn’t care. Justice had been served.

Later, after the physician had checked Jade’s hand and declared him fine, you collapsed onto the nearest couch, your exhaustion finally catching up to you. Without thinking, you ended up sprawled across Jade’s lap.

He stiffened, his hands hovering awkwardly before he cautiously placed one on your back to keep you from sliding off.

“Comfortable?” he asked dryly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him.

You hummed in response, already half-asleep. Within moments, your breathing evened out, and you nodded off.

Jade, for his part, was thoroughly smitten. His usual composure cracked as he replayed the day’s events—your fiery anger on his behalf, the way you’d fretted over his injury, and now, the way you looked so peaceful resting against him.

His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, and he allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.

“Quite the enigma,” he murmured to himself, already planning how to keep you close.

The ballroom was a spectacle of opulence. Chandeliers glittered overhead, casting soft golden light on the polished floors and the parade of nobles in their finest silks and velvets.

This was supposed to be a night of grand announcements, of declarations of love, and of the start of some “epic romance” that would undoubtedly be inscribed into the annals of history—or, at least, that's what the original novel promised.

But as you stood to the side with Jade and Floyd, it was evident that this version of events was hurtling off the rails.

Enter: the Duke of the North.

The poor man barely stepped into the ballroom before his eyes landed on the prince and the saintess. You could physically see the will to live drain out of him as his shoulders slumped, his gaze unfocused like he was calculating the fastest way to fake his own death and disappear into the wilderness.

It was almost pitiful. Almost.

The prince, meanwhile, had puffed up his chest and was grinning like he hadn’t recently been humiliated in front of half the kingdom. And the saintess—oh, she was trying, bless her delusional heart.

Smiling demurely, batting her lashes, and putting on a performance that might have worked if her reputation hadn’t already been stomped into the dirt by your carefully orchestrated chaos.

You leaned toward Jade and whispered, “I think the Duke’s trying to plot his own escape.”

Jade’s lips twitched in amusement, but he kept his usual calm demeanor. Floyd, however, cackled loudly enough to draw a few stares.

Then, the moment arrived: the prince stepped forward, his cape swishing dramatically as he raised his goblet. “Tonight, I announce my bride-to-be, the one chosen by the heavens themselves—the saintess!”

There was a smattering of applause, mostly out of obligation, but you were too busy watching the Duke. The man visibly sagged with relief, his shoulders dropping like he’d just been unshackled from a lifetime of servitude. You could practically hear the mental thank the gods echoing in his head.

And then, as if shedding the weight of the world, he turned on his heel and made a beeline—toward you.

You blinked, momentarily stunned as the Duke of the North, the supposed male lead, bowed deeply and extended a hand toward you. “Would you honor me with the first dance, my lady?”

You opened your mouth to decline, because this wasn’t in any script you remembered, but before you could utter a word, Jade smoothly stepped in.

“Apologies, Duke,” he said with his signature polite menace, “but she already promised this dance to me.”

Without waiting for a response, Jade’s hand found the small of your back, and he gently yet firmly guided you to the dance floor. The Duke was left standing there, his hand still outstretched, looking mildly bewildered.

“Don’t worry!” Floyd piped up, appearing out of nowhere. “I’ll dance with you!”

Before the Duke could protest, Floyd latched onto his arm and practically dragged him into a lively—and utterly chaotic—dance that looked like a mix of a waltz and a sparring match. The Duke’s expression alternated between horror and resignation, while Floyd grinned like he was having the time of his life.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably as you watched the scene.

Jade glanced down at you, his expression softening as he took in your laughter. His usual cool demeanor melted for just a moment, replaced by something so tender it made your heart stutter.

The realization hit you like a lightning bolt.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

You were in love with him.

And not the “oh, he’s handsome and I tolerate his presence” kind of love. This was the “I want to spend my life laughing and dancing and plotting petty revenge schemes with you” kind of love.

The thought was overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you buried your face in Jade’s chest.

He stilled for a moment, surprised, but then his arms encircled you, holding you close as he continued to sway to the rhythm of the music.

He didn’t question it, didn’t tease you, didn’t even comment. Instead, he rested his chin lightly on top of your head, his voice low as he murmured, “Are you all right?”

You nodded into his chest, your cheeks burning as you clung to him like a lifeline.

As the music swelled around you, you felt his hand tighten slightly on your waist. When you finally peeked up at him, his gaze met yours, and there it was again—that look of unguarded adoration that made your knees weak.

It was, without a doubt, the best dance of your life.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ballroom, the Duke of the North was being spun around like a rag doll by Floyd, who was cackling loud enough to echo off the walls.

You caught sight of the saintess in the corner, her smile strained and her fingers clutching her goblet so tightly it looked like it might shatter.

All was well in the world.

The ballroom was buzzing with conversation, the glittering chandeliers casting light on a gathering of nobles too caught up in their own intrigues to notice the storm brewing in one corner. That is, until a sharp, shrill voice cut through the air.

“You think you can just ruin my family and get away with it?” It was the girl whose arrogance had gotten her father fired. Her finger pointed straight at you, her expression a mix of fury and desperation.

The ballroom stilled as the girl pointed her trembling finger at you, her voice shrill enough to shatter glass. "You think you can destroy my family and just walk away? You're nothing but a tyrant with too much power and zero empathy!"

Her father, standing nearby, was frantically gesturing for her to stop. “D-Dear, perhaps we should—”

“Shut it, Father! I’m handling this!” she snapped, tossing her poorly styled curls over her shoulder. She turned back to you, eyes blazing. “Everyone should know what kind of monster you are. Workplace harassment! That’s right—I said it!”

Before you could even process the absolute absurdity of the accusation, the Duke of the North stepped forward like some knight in an overwrought romance novel.

“You will not speak of her in such a way,” he declared, his voice booming with righteous indignation. “The duchess is a paragon of nobility and grace!”

The crowd collectively oohed, but before you could roll your eyes hard enough to dislocate something, the Saintess shot to her feet, looking utterly scandalized.

“This man,” she hissed, gesturing wildly at the Duke, “didn’t even fight for me, his divinely chosen match, but now he defends her? A woman who flaunts her defiance of heaven’s will? Blasphemy!”

“Blasphemy?” you muttered under your breath. “Blasphe-you, lady…”

Unfortunately, the Balding Prince chose this moment to stumble into the fray. “Uh… Are we…arguing?” He puffed up his chest, desperately trying to seem relevant. “As prince, I demand order!”

You took one look at him, with his shiny scalp gleaming under the chandeliers, and decided he wasn’t even worth the effort.

Meanwhile, Jade, ever the picture of composed menace, sidled up to your side. His eyes locked onto the Duke’s hand, which was still resting on yours. With a polite but firm gesture, Jade brushed the Duke’s hand away as though it carried the plague.

The Duke looked affronted. Jade just smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that promised future inconvenience.

You, however, had officially hit your limit. You stepped forward, raising your voice over the din. “Enough!”

The room froze. All eyes turned to you as you launched into your tirade, starting with the Saintess.

“You!” You pointed directly at her, ignoring the way her cheeks flushed with outrage. “Do you honestly think the universe revolves around you just because you’ve got a shiny necklace and a tragic backstory? Newsflash: It doesn’t. The only divine will I’ve seen is everyone’s will to avoid your self-righteous sermons. Go back to your prayer circle and spare us your dramatics.”

Her mouth opened in shock, but you were already turning to the Balding Prince.

“And you! Stop sending letters to my estate asking for potions to grow hair or stretch your bones. I’m a duchess, not a miracle worker, and no amount of magic can make you interesting. Get a personality—or at least a hat.”

The prince turned beet red, his hands twitching as though debating whether to flee or argue. You didn’t care.

You swung your gaze to the girl whose father you’d fired. “And as for you, congratulations. You’ve just confirmed that stupidity really is hereditary. Your dad didn’t lose his job because of me. He lost it because he was stealing more money than the royal treasury had left after your little shopping sprees. You’re lucky I didn’t throw both of you in jail.”

Her father, now sweating through his cravat, looked like he might faint on the spot.

Finally, you turned to the Duke. “And you. I appreciate the effort, really. It’s sweet that you think I need defending. But I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need saving. And, oh—” You reached out, grabbing Jade by the arm. “I happen to have a fiancé whom I adore. So maybe put your chivalry elsewhere.”

Jade, for his part, looked smug as he allowed himself to be pulled along, his composure completely unshaken.

The ballroom fell into stunned silence as you swept toward the exit. Then—

Floyd’s laughter broke through like a cannon blast. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as tears streamed down his face. “Oh my god—that was amazing—! Balding prince—hat—”

Azul smirked, hiding his amusement behind a gloved hand. “Well, that was certainly… enlightening.”

You didn’t even look back as you pushed open the grand doors. “Idiots, the lot of them,” you muttered.

As you exited the ballroom, you couldn’t help but glance up at Jade. He looked unusually pleased, his lips curling into a faint, satisfied smile.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” he said smoothly, though the twinkle in his eye said otherwise. “I simply find your methods... inspiring.”

The two of you made it past the grand doors before the realization hit you like a carriage with no brakes.

You had just declared, in front of everyone, that you loved Jade.

And he knew it. Oh, did he know it.

He walked beside you, his usual calm and collected demeanor now infused with an insufferable smugness. His smile was the kind that could sell snake oil to a herpetologist.

“Darling,” he said, his voice laced with honeyed amusement, “you’re unusually quiet. Cat got your tongue? Or perhaps you’re shy after your… heartfelt proclamation?”

You refused to meet his gaze. “Shut up,” you muttered, staring resolutely at the carpeted hallway like it held the secrets to the universe.

“Now, now,” he crooned, leaning closer. “Why won’t you look at me? Surely you wouldn’t deny me the honor of basking in the gaze of my beloved?”

Your face burned hotter than the ballroom chandeliers. You covered it with your hands. “Leave me here,” you said dramatically. “Leave me here to rot in peace.”

Jade chuckled, and it was the kind of sound that sent shivers down your spine—warm, teasing, and entirely too pleased. “Why on earth would I do that?” he asked, his tone deceptively innocent. “Especially when my beloved looks so… endearing in their embarrassment.”

You peeked through your fingers, ready to deliver some biting retort, but the words died in your throat.

Jade’s expression had shifted. He wasn’t just amused anymore—he was smitten. The way his mismatched eyes softened as they looked at you, the faint smile that carried more affection than smugness, the subtle tilt of his head like you were the most fascinating thing in the world—it was all too much.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you grumbled, your voice weak.

“Like what?” he asked, feigning ignorance as he gently reached for your hands.

You tried to resist, but he was insistent, pulling them away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t just a teasing peck to rile you up—it was slow, deliberate, and completely disarming. You melted against him, any thoughts of resistance dissolving as you instinctively pulled him closer.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this book wasn’t the irredeemable mess you’d always thought it was.

After all, it had given you him.

The decision to expedite the wedding wasn’t exactly born of romance. It was born of the Duke’s increasingly deranged letters, the last of which included a poem so long and melodramatic it might as well have been a novel in verse.

Jade, to his credit, only raised a single brow at your muttered curses as you ripped the latest letter into confetti. “Darling,” he said mildly, “perhaps this is a sign to finalize our own arrangements before our dear Duke decides to recite his poetry at your doorstep.”

You had agreed, of course, which led to your current predicament: drowning in swatches, floral arrangements, and pamphlets for curtains—curtains, of all things.

“This one feels too garish,” you muttered, holding up a deep crimson drape. “But this one’s too boring,” you added, pointing at a pale beige option. You groaned and flopped back in your chair, glaring at the wedding planner. “Why is there no middle ground? What am I paying you for?”

The poor planner looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and never come out. Before you could unleash more frustration, Jade plucked the pamphlets from your hands with infuriating ease.

“Enough,” he said, his tone firm but fond. “You’ll give yourself gray hairs fretting over curtains. We can always elope, you know.”

You gaped at him. “Elope?”

His smile turned mischievous. “Yes. A quiet ceremony in the woods, perhaps, with only the birds as witnesses. Far from meddling Dukes and curtain debates.”

For a moment, you almost entertained the idea. But then you shook your head, laughing softly. “I suppose I’m being a bit dramatic.”

“A bit,” Jade echoed, though his teasing lilt softened as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “You don’t have to do this alone, my love. Delegate.”

The wedding planner, who had been cowering behind a stack of color charts, practically lit up. “Oh, yes! Delegate! Please, delegate!”

You sighed, leaning into Jade’s touch. “Fine. You’re in charge now.”

The planner looked as though he might fall to his knees and kiss Jade’s shoes in gratitude. Jade, ever the picture of elegance, merely chuckled.

“Excellent choice,” he said smoothly, guiding you away from the table of chaos. “Now, let’s find something far more enjoyable to argue about—like the wedding cake flavors.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily Jade managed to turn your stress into something almost enjoyable. Perhaps rushing the wedding wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The room was an over-the-top vision of wealth: chandeliers the size of small planets, flowers flown in from who-knows-where, and a cake so tall you were half-convinced Floyd could climb it and look smug doing it. Every noble in the kingdom was here, decked out in silks and sequins, pretending they weren’t secretly gossiping about you and your eel fiancé.

You barely noticed. Jade was standing in front of you, looking so unfairly ethereal you wondered if the universe had been playing favorites. His mismatched eyes were locked on yours, and his smile was small but so genuine you almost forgot your carefully planned vows.

Then, of course, chaos. Because how could anything in your life go smoothly?

From the back of the ballroom came a loud, wet, obnoxious wail.

“Oh, for the love of God,” you muttered under your breath, and Jade’s lips quirked in amusement.

“I LOVED HER FIRST!” the Duke sobbed dramatically, his voice shaking with the intensity of his grief.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it permanently,” Floyd snapped, his voice cutting through the crowd like a knife.

And if that wasn’t enough, you could faintly hear Azul’s oily, persuasive tone somewhere off to the side. “Yes, Lord Evermore, just a tiny signature on this insignificant little contract. You’re not using your soul for much, anyway, are you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, biting back a laugh. This wasn’t just a wedding—it was your wedding. Of course it was going to be chaotic.

But when you looked up, there was Jade, his gaze steady and full of a quiet devotion that made the rest of the madness blur into the background. His vows were perfect, as expected, and when it came your turn, you stumbled over the words a little, because how were you supposed to focus when he was looking at you like that?

Then came the kiss.

Jade dipped you in one smooth motion, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that sent the room spinning. Applause erupted, and you swore you heard someone sniffling behind you.

“Is the Duke crying again?” you murmured against Jade’s lips.

“I believe Floyd threatened him,” Jade replied, far too amused.

“And Azul’s... oh no, is he signing contracts?”

Jade only smirked, kissing you again. “Should I be worried that you’re more interested in their antics than your new husband?”

“I’m not—wait, husband?” You blinked at him, the word sinking in, and for the first time in ages, you felt completely, blissfully happy.

As you stood there with your chaotic, ridiculous found family around you, you couldn’t help but smile. Sure, your life had taken a turn for the absurd, but if it brought you to this moment, maybe that cursed mushroom wasn’t so bad after all.

“Remind me to thank that mushroom,” you said with a grin.

Jade’s laughter was soft, warm, and entirely yours. “If it brought us together, I might build it a shrine.”

You laughed, pulling him closer. You’d faced chaos and conspiracies, chaos and hilarity, but in this moment, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

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