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joelscurls · 9 months

Text

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

#joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction

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novaursa · 1 month

Text

The Flames We Share

- Summary: You tell your son the truth. He has more than the blood of dragons in his veins.

- Paring: Gwayne Hightower/targ!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaenyra's younger sister and was bonded with Silverwing. These events happen right after The Blood We Choose. If you want to read all parts before this one in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 5 198

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The dungeons beneath Dragonstone were a cold, damp place, lit only by flickering torches that cast shadows that seemed to dance mockingly on the rough-hewn walls. The stench of rot and mildew clung to the air, seeping into the very stones of the fortress. Gwayne Hightower sat chained to the wall, bruised and dirty from his days of captivity, but his eyes were clear and resolute, fixed forward as he awaited what was surely his fate. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere—focused only on you, the woman he had risked everything for.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the stone corridors, and he looked up as the iron door creaked open. Daemon Targaryen stepped inside, a predator’s smirk twisting his lips. He tossed a crumpled message onto the filthy floor in front of Gwayne’s feet. The black wax seal was unmistakable—bearing the sigil of House Hightower.

“Your father sends his regards,” Daemon drawled, a cruel edge in his voice. “He offers to trade his traitorous son for some stronghold I care little about. Imagine that—a worthless fortress in exchange for his even more worthless offspring.” Daemon’s eyes gleamed as he studied Gwayne’s reaction, searching for any sign of weakness.

But Gwayne’s expression remained stony. “You can say what you wish, Targaryen. My fate was sealed the moment I brought her to you.” His voice was hoarse but steady. “As long as Y/N is safe, I care not what becomes of me.”

Daemon’s lip curled in disdain. “Is that so?” He took a step closer, as if to loom over Gwayne. “Safe? You think she’s safe, having fallen from the sky, bleeding and broken? You think I would allow the woman who bore my son—my heir—to suffer any harm under my roof?” There was a dark gleam of possessiveness in Daemon’s eyes, as if the very notion of another man daring to care for you was an affront to his pride.

Gwayne’s gaze sharpened at that. “I want to see Vaeron,” he demanded suddenly. There was a tremor in his voice, a desperation that Daemon did not miss. “I want to speak with my son.”

Daemon’s anger flared at the insolence of the request. “Your son?” he hissed, voice low and dangerous. “That boy is a Targaryen—a dragon, not the product of some dishonorable tryst! Do you think I would allow him to be tainted by the shame of what you nearly brought upon my niece, siring a child on her without even the dignity of wedlock?”

Gwayne’s eyes darkened, yet there was a hint of mocking amusement in them as he stared up at the Rogue Prince. “And you believe yourself to be the righteous one? The man who slew his first wife in pursuit of power? Who consorts with whores while claiming the love of dragons? Tell me, Daemon, what makes you any different from me?”

Daemon’s smirk faltered, his face tightening with barely controlled rage. But Gwayne continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “She was denied to me—Y/N, I mean. If your brother had seen sense, had given her to me rather than feeding your ambitions, we could have avoided all this bloodshed. The boy would have been raised in Oldtown, under the guidance of both our Houses, and this war might never have happened.”

“Nothing could have prevented this war,” Daemon snarled, eyes flashing. “It was written in fire and blood long before you or I even took breath. But do not delude yourself into thinking you have anything resembling love, Hightower. What you claim as love is mere possession—an attempt to bind what you could never truly have.”

Gwayne’s jaw clenched at the words, but he did not respond. The two men stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like a drawn sword. Daemon took a breath, his composure returning as he straightened.

“I’ll have the boy brought to you,” Daemon said at last, his tone laced with scorn. “You may look upon him and see the life you were never destined to have. But do not forget—he is mine, and Y/N belongs to me now. She is a Targaryen, and you are nothing more than a failed traitor.”

With that, Daemon turned and strode toward the door. Before he left, he paused, throwing one last taunt over his shoulder. “Do not hope for mercy when your father trades you away like the pawn you are, Gwayne. Your life is worth little, even to those who should care most.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Gwayne alone in the darkness once more. But he did not feel defeated. Even with the chains biting into his wrists, he had no regrets for what he had done, for saving you and ensuring you were delivered safely to Dragonstone. In the end, it was not his fate that mattered—it was yours. Even in the heart of this cold, bitter place, the thought of you kept the warmth alive in his heart.

Because in the quiet shadows, despite all the titles and power Daemon clung to, Gwayne knew one truth that Daemon would never fully grasp—he loved you, wholly and without condition. And in his mind, that was a victory far greater than any throne or dragon could ever grant.

The soft crackle of the hearthfire filled the chamber, mingling with the scent of herbs and ointments from where Maesters had tended to your wounds. You sat by the window, Silverwing’s scales still etched into your memory, the pain a constant reminder of the battle you had narrowly survived. The healing was slow, but the bruises and cuts were nothing compared to the deeper ache in your chest. You weren’t sure what stung more—the death of your dragon or the desperate, foolish bravery of the man who had risked everything to save you.

A knock at the door broke your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, and the door creaked open to reveal Vaeron. The boy’s silver hair glinted in the evening light, and his blue eyes—so much like his father’s—fixed on you with concern.

“Mother,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You smiled softly at him, though your heart ached as you looked upon him. “I am mending, sweetling. Stronger with each day.”

Vaeron nodded, yet his expression was troubled. He came closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, the worry in his eyes clear. “I heard… I heard Daemon talking about him,” he murmured. “The man in the dungeons—the one who saved you. Is it true he defied Ser Criston Cole and fled with you from Rook’s Rest? They say he’s a Hightower. An enemy.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. The boy was no longer the child you had once cradled; he was growing, his curiosity sharp and his mind keen. He deserved the truth.

“Yes, it’s true,” you replied, voice gentle. “The man who saved me is Gwayne Hightower. He… he betrayed his own kin, risked his life, and rode through the chaos to bring me here, to safety.”

Vaeron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why would he do that? Daemon says he’s just trying to make amends for his family’s treachery. That he’s nothing more than a desperate fool.”

You shook your head slowly. “It’s more complicated than that, my dear. Gwayne… he did it out of love, out of loyalty to someone who meant the world to him once.” You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. The truth was a blade you’d kept sheathed for too long, and it was time to draw it, no matter how much it might wound.

Vaeron looked at you expectantly, sensing the weight of what you were about to say. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, needing the touch to anchor yourself.

“Vaeron… the man in the dungeons, Gwayne Hightower… he is your father.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Vaeron’s eyes widened, the shock raw and unfiltered in his young face. He pulled his hand away, as if trying to distance himself from the revelation. “What?” he breathed out, voice barely above a whisper. “My father? But… Daemon… I always thought…”

You nodded, pain lancing through your heart as you watched him grapple with the truth. “Daemon has raised you as his own, and in many ways, he is your father. But you have another father, by blood, and that is Gwayne Hightower. You were conceived out of a moment we both knew would never be more than a fleeting dream. He wanted to marry me, to build a life, but—”

Vaeron shook his head, backing away as he struggled to process it all. “No,” he muttered, as if denying the words could somehow make them untrue. “Daemon’s always told me I’m a Targaryen, that my blood is pure, that I am his son, a prince of the realm. How could—why didn’t you tell me? Why now, when he’s chained beneath us like some criminal?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. “I didn’t want you to bear the burden of that knowledge before you were ready. You were always meant to be strong, to carry the legacy of the dragons. But Gwayne… he isn’t just a Hightower, he’s the man who saved my life when no one else dared. Whatever his blood, he does care for you in his own way, even from afar now.”

Vaeron’s lips trembled as he stared at you, his confusion and hurt palpable. “I need… I need to think,” he stammered, turning abruptly and nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to leave the room.

“Vaeron, wait—” you called after him, but he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your chest tightened with regret. You had known this moment would come eventually, but you had hoped it would be under different circumstances. There was so much more you wanted to tell him, so much more to explain. But for now, all you could do was hope that he would find a way to understand, to see beyond the conflict of bloodlines and names.

In that fleeting moment before he vanished, you had seen the storm raging behind his eyes—a storm you knew would not settle easily. And in that storm, you glimpsed the boy he had always been and the man he was becoming, torn between the truths that defined him.

But you could only wait, knowing that the choice between dragons and towers was his to make, even if it broke your heart in the process.

Vaeron’s footsteps echoed through the winding corridors of Dragonstone as he fought to steady his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a heavy drum drowning out the world around him. The truth his mother had just revealed rang in his ears like a cruel jest—Gwayne Hightower is your father. The words were a blade lodged deep in his chest, twisting with every thought, every doubt that now swirled within him.

He turned a corner, the air cool against his flushed face, and found himself in the dimly lit dining hall. The large table at its center was set for the evening meal, though the room was mostly empty save for one figure seated at the end, absently twirling a goblet in his hand.

Jacaerys Velaryon looked up, catching sight of Vaeron. His dark curls fell loosely over his forehead, and his brown eyes narrowed in concern as he took in his cousin’s strained expression. “Vaeron?” he called out, his voice low but filled with the warmth of kinship. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

Vaeron stiffened, his gaze flickering away as he hesitated at the threshold of the hall. The weight of the revelation clung to him like a shroud, and for a moment, he wondered if it would be easier to bury it, to pretend that nothing had changed. But Jacaerys’ patient eyes, filled with genuine care, drew him in like a tether.

With a resigned sigh, Vaeron walked over and slumped into the chair opposite Jace, the firelight casting shadows on his troubled face. He didn’t speak for a moment, merely stared at the table as he tried to gather the words that had lodged like stones in his throat.

Jace leaned forward, the lines of worry deepening on his brow. “Vaeron, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

“I…” Vaeron’s voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing, “I just learned something that changes everything.” He finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with uncertainty. “The man in the dungeons—the Hightower who brought Mother back from Rook’s Rest… He’s my father. My real father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in shock, his goblet nearly slipping from his grasp. “What? But—Daemon’s always—”

“I know,” Vaeron cut in, voice strained. “I thought Daemon was my father, too. I grew up believing I was his son, a true Targaryen. But Mother told me just now that Gwayne Hightower is my sire. I’m… I’m a bastard.”

The word hung heavy in the air between them, laden with shame and confusion. Vaeron felt his chest tighten again, the sting of doubt gnawing at him. What did that make him now? Was he even truly a part of this family? A dragon in name only, born of a union that should never have been?

Jacaerys’ expression softened as he saw the pain in Vaeron’s eyes. He set down his goblet and leaned closer, trying to find the right words. “Listen to me, Vaeron,” he began, voice steady and laced with a touch of empathy. “We’ve both been raised with more lies and expectations than most people could handle. But if anyone understands how it feels to question who you are, it’s me.”

Vaeron blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jacaerys gave a rueful smile, leaning back in his chair as he stared into the flames. “I’ve heard the whispers, the taunts—people saying I’m no true Targaryen because of my questionable blood. They mock the fact that I don’t have silver hair or violet eyes, that I look more like a commoner than a prince. And sometimes… sometimes, I wonder if they’re right.”

The honesty in Jace’s voice caught Vaeron off guard, pulling him out of his own turmoil. He had always admired Jacaerys—his confidence, his sense of duty. He had never imagined that his cousin carried doubts of his own.

“But you’re still recognized as one of us,” Vaeron murmured, brow furrowed. “You’re still heir to the Iron Throne, still a dragon. No one would ever dare deny that.”

Jace nodded, but his gaze remained distant. “True, but that doesn’t erase the whispers. Even with the dragon blood flowing through my veins, I’ve always felt like I had to prove I’m worthy of the name Targaryen. But you…” He looked back at Vaeron, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You look like a Targaryen. No one would ever question your blood—silver hair—you were born a dragon, even if your father wasn’t one.”

Vaeron’s breath hitched at the kindness in Jace’s words. But it didn’t soothe the ache gnawing at his heart. “Does it even matter, Jace? If I’m truly a bastard, what does any of this mean? My whole life, I’ve been told I’m meant for something great, but now… now I don’t even know who I really am.”

Jacaerys’ expression grew firm, his voice taking on a rare edge of command. “It means you choose who you are, Vaeron. Blood alone doesn’t decide it. You were raised in this family, loved by your mother and Daemon alike. That is what makes you one of us. Not some Hightower who’s rotting in a cell.”

Vaeron’s throat tightened at the thought of Gwayne, the man who had defied his own House, who had thrown everything away to save the woman he loved. Did that make him worthy of being called a father? Could that kind of loyalty outweigh his bloodline, or was it too little too late?

“I need time to think,” Vaeron murmured, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… a lot.”

Jacaerys reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Vaeron’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, cousin. You’re not alone in this, alright? Whatever you decide, you’ll always have me and the rest of your family behind you.”

Vaeron nodded numbly, grateful for Jace’s support but still lost in the sea of confusion and emotions swirling within him. The questions gnawed at him relentlessly, leaving him torn between the man he had always believed himself to be and the truth that now threatened to shatter that identity.

The tension clung to the air in the dining hall like smoke, heavy and suffocating. Vaeron sat in silence after Jacaerys left, lost in the maze of his thoughts, unable to untangle the twisted knots of his emotions. His whole life had been built on one truth: that he was a Targaryen, son of Daemon, a prince destined for greatness. But now that truth had shattered, and he felt like a child cast adrift on a stormy sea, unsure of where to turn.

The sound of footsteps approached, measured and deliberate, and Vaeron looked up to see Daemon entering the hall. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp eyes missed nothing as they swept over Vaeron’s troubled face. For a moment, the prince said nothing, merely studying his son—his real son in all but blood—with a calculating gaze.

“You’re brooding,” Daemon finally said, his voice low and tinged with an edge of dry amusement. “A trait you didn’t inherit from your mother, I’d wager.”

Vaeron clenched his fists on the table, unable to meet Daemon’s eyes. “Everything I’ve ever known about myself is a lie,” he muttered, his voice thick with anger and confusion. “How am I supposed to believe anything now?”

Daemon’s gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. “You think this changes who you are?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think some whispered secret about your parentage wipes away the blood that runs through your veins? You are still a Targaryen, still my son in every way that matters.”

Vaeron’s eyes snapped up, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “But I’m not,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “I’m not truly your son, not by blood. I’m just… a bastard. A mistake.”

Daemon’s expression darkened, and he took a seat across from Vaeron, his presence commanding and unyielding. “Is that what you truly believe?” he asked, his tone both gentle and sharp. “That blood alone defines who you are? You were raised in the shadow of dragons, with the legacy of kings and conquerors shaping your every step. That is no lie. I’ve taught you, guided you, prepared you for the world because I chose you as my heir, not because of whose seed sired you.”

Vaeron looked away, struggling with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “But… why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the pain of betrayal. “All this time, you let me believe…”

Daemon sighed, his gaze growing distant as if recalling a memory long buried. “Because you needed to grow up without that burden,” he said quietly. “What good would it have done to burden you with a truth that might have only confused you, made you question everything? You were born a Targaryen in all the ways that matter. I’ve treated you as such, and so has your mother. That will never change, no matter who your true father is.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened at the mention of his mother, and he shook his head. “But now I know, and I can’t just pretend it doesn’t matter. That man in the dungeons… he’s the reason I exist, and yet he’s a stranger to me. How can I make sense of that?”

Daemon leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood. “Gwayne Hightower might be your blood father, but that doesn’t mean he has any claim over you,” he said with a hint of disdain in his voice. “He made a choice back at Rook’s Rest—one that I don’t entirely understand myself. He risked everything to bring your mother back here. Perhaps he thought it would redeem him somehow, or maybe he truly cared for her in his own way. Either way, he’s asked to speak with you.”

Vaeron stiffened at the words, his heart lurching in his chest. “He wants to see me?”

Daemon nodded slowly. “He does. He requested it, though he knows the choice is yours to make. I told him I’d send you, but the decision is yours. You can go to him, or you can ignore it and leave him to rot where he belongs.”

Vaeron’s mind reeled, torn between the curiosity gnawing at him and the fear of facing the man who had upended his world with his very existence. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I can’t. Not today. I don’t even know what I’d say to him… what I’d ask.”

Daemon studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. “That’s your right. You don’t have to face him until you’re ready—if you ever are.” He reached out, placing a hand on Vaeron’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “But know this, boy: whoever sired you, you are still my son. You bear the Targaryen name because I have claimed you as my own, because you were raised with fire in your blood. No man, be he Hightower or otherwise, can take that from you.”

Vaeron looked up at him, searching Daemon’s face for some trace of deception, but all he saw was the fierce loyalty and pride that Daemon had always shown him. For all his faults and ruthlessness, Daemon had been the only father Vaeron had ever known. And in that moment, the boy clung to that truth like a lifeline.

“Thank you,” Vaeron murmured, his voice small but filled with genuine gratitude. “I just… need time. To sort through it all.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a rare, almost affectionate smile, one reserved for the few he held dear. “Take all the time you need,” he said quietly. “But remember, you are a Targaryen, and no truth will ever change that. Not in the eyes of those who matter.”

With that, Daemon rose from the table, giving Vaeron a final nod before turning to leave the hall. Vaeron watched him go, the conflicting emotions still swirling in his chest, but there was a newfound clarity in his heart. The path ahead was clouded, and the shadow of Gwayne Hightower’s existence hanged over him like a specter. But for now, he knew where he stood—with the family that had shaped him, that had loved him despite the secrets and lies.

But deep down, in the quiet recesses of his mind, he knew that one day he would have to face the man who had saved his mother and who claimed the title of his father. Just… not today. Today, he would hold on to the identity he’d always known and trust that, in time, he would find his way through the tangled web of blood and loyalty.

For now, he was still Vaeron Targaryen, son of Daemon—trueborn or not, dragon or not, he was still a part of the legacy that burned brightly in the heart of House Targaryen. And that was enough to anchor him, at least for tonight.

The corridors beneath Dragonstone were dark and damp, the oppressive chill seeping into Vaeron’s bones as he made his way toward the dungeons. It had been a week since his world had been upended, a week of wrestling with the truth of his parentage. He had tried to push it aside, to focus on the training sessions with his cousins, the books his mother insisted he study, the words of comfort from Daemon. But every night, when the candles burned low and the castle quieted, the thought gnawed at him: if he didn’t face the man in the dungeons, he would never truly understand where he came from—or who he was.

So here he was, descending deeper into the belly of the fortress, the iron doors looming ahead. A guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing him entry. The door creaked open, revealing the shadowed cell where Gwayne Hightower sat slumped against the cold stone wall, chains rattling faintly with his every breath.

Gwayne’s face was bruised and gaunt, the days of imprisonment leaving their mark on him. But his eyes, so strikingly similar to Vaeron’s own, flicked up the moment the boy entered. Surprise and something softer—something like hope—flashed in his gaze.

“Vaeron,” he murmured, as if testing the name on his lips. “You came.”

Vaeron stood just inside the threshold, tension thrumming through his body. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—anger, indifference, desperation? But all he felt was a tangled mix of emotions that refused to settle.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally took a few steps closer, his voice tentative as he asked, “How could I not? I had to face you… or I couldn’t live with myself.”

Gwayne’s expression softened, a flicker of pride and sorrow crossing his face. “You’re braver than most would be in your position,” he said quietly. He shifted slightly, wincing at the pull of his wounds and restraints. “How… how is your mother? Is she recovering?”

Vaeron’s heart tightened at the genuine concern in Gwayne’s voice. Despite everything, despite the shame and anger swirling within him, he could not deny the sincerity of the man’s question. “She’s getting better,” Vaeron replied, a hint of guardedness still in his tone. “But her injuries are still bad. The fall from Silverwing was…” His voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Gwayne nodded, his jaw clenched as if in shared pain. “She’s strong. She always has been. I knew if I could just get her here, she’d fight her way back.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion, and he averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Vaeron. “Thank you for telling me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint drip of water echoing through the dungeons. Vaeron swallowed the lump in his throat and finally spoke the question that had been burning in him since he decided to come here. “Daemon says you’re a traitor,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “That you can’t be trusted, that you’ve betrayed your family and your House. But… you saved my mother. You risked your life, your honor, everything.”

Gwayne’s expression didn’t change, but something deep and resolute flickered in his eyes. “Daemon’s right—I am a traitor to my own kin, to my House. I turned my back on everything I was raised to uphold. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The simple conviction in his words struck Vaeron like a blow. He could see the truth of it written in every line of Gwayne’s face, in the quiet determination that had driven him to this point. Vaeron wanted to challenge him, to demand answers, but instead, he found himself asking, “Why?”

Gwayne’s lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “Because she was worth it. Your mother was worth more than any loyalty to my House, more than any honor I might have clung to. You see, I loved her long before any of this war came to pass. I wanted to marry her, to build a life with her, but your uncle, King Viserys, had other plans. When she was given to Daemon, I knew my place would only ever be on the outside, looking in.” He paused, eyes darkening with the weight of old wounds. “But that didn’t change how I felt. When I saw her falling in battle, when I saw Silverwing plummet… I didn’t think about anything else. I just acted. I’d rather be a traitor and live knowing I saved her than be a loyal man and watch her die.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened, torn between resentment and reluctant understanding. “You say that like it was noble, like it justifies everything. But it’s still treason. You abandoned your family. You betrayed your own.”

Gwayne’s expression grew more serious, his voice a low rumble in the dim light. “Yes, and I will face the consequences of that. I know what I’ve done, and I’ve made my peace with it. But you must understand, Vaeron—whatever Daemon tells you, whatever anyone says—you are my son. I know I have no right to claim you, not after all these years, but it doesn’t change what you are to me.”

Vaeron felt the words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring him to acknowledge the bond that existed between them, even if he wished it didn’t. He looked down, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t know what I am,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I was raised to believe I’m a Targaryen, that I’m Daemon’s son. Now everything feels like a lie. How can I be both?”

Gwayne’s gaze softened, the hardness of his demeanor giving way to something almost tender. “You are both,” he said quietly. “You were raised as a Targaryen, with all the fire and pride that comes with it. That is a part of you. But you’re also my blood, whether you like it or not. And you get to decide what that means for you.”

Vaeron’s mind spun with conflicting emotions—anger, guilt, a flicker of something like pity. He wasn’t sure if he could ever see Gwayne as his father, not in the way Daemon had been. But he couldn’t deny that the man who sat before him had risked everything for his mother, for the chance to protect her even when all seemed lost. And for that alone, he couldn’t simply dismiss him.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally shook his head. “I can’t face you—not today. There’s too much I don’t understand, too much I still need to figure out.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting the decision without protest. “I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give,” he said softly. “But know that I’m here, for as long as they allow me to draw breath. And whatever choice you make, whatever path you choose—I will always be proud of you.”

The words stung, leaving Vaeron with a raw ache in his chest. He wanted to respond, to say something more, but the weight of everything—his own confusion, the war, the fractured loyalties—was too much. He turned abruptly, leaving the cell without another word, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of conflicting emotions.

As he walked away, the echo of Gwayne’s voice lingered in his mind, a reminder that some truths, no matter how painful, couldn’t be ignored forever. But for now, he needed time to reconcile the man he had always believed himself to be with the truths he couldn’t yet fully accept.

And so, Vaeron returned to the world above, leaving the man who called himself his father to the shadows, knowing that one day—perhaps too soon—he would have to confront the reality of who he truly was.

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne x y/n #silverwing #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #hotd daemon #daemon x reader #hotd gwayne #hotd x reader #hotd

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theemporium · 28 days

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ffs i sent my request to the wrong place. ANYWAYS ❤️#3 norsttapen x reader!!

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

3. “Show me how you want to be touched.”

“This is unfair.”

Your eyes never left the Dutchman as you began to press kisses along Lando’s skin, tracing them along his shoulder to the base of his neck where he preened under the attention. His body was leaning back on yours, chest panting and cheeks flushed and cock undeniably hard in your hand as you stroked him slowly.

And Max was simply forced to watch.

It wasn’t often that he wasn’t in complete control. It was something that seemed to fit so naturally into your relationship, even from the start. You and Lando may have pushed his buttons, tested his patience, pushed the limits. But Max always knew how to get you both all nice and obedient for him. He loved the way you two melted beneath him and neither of you could say you minded either.

But sometimes—

Sometimes Max needed to be put in his place too.

He had been gone all week, flying off to England for a handful of meetings that could have been done virtually. You and Lando weren’t mad, per say, but with so limited time for the three of you to spend together in your shared apartment, you couldn’t deny that a part of you felt a bit peeved off that the boy decided to fly out for the week.

And now, he was paying the consequences.

Max was sprawled out on the sheets of your shared bed, clothes long abandoned on the floor and left in just a pair of boxers that did little to hide how much he was enjoying the show. He watched you and Lando at the end of the bed, the boy melting and whining under your touch as you took control, as you put yourself in charge.

Max shouldn’t find it as hot as he did, and yet a mere look from you had his cock twitching.

“I think it’s very fair,” you retorted, your teeth lightly nipping Lando’s ear as he bucked his hips helplessly into your hand. “Lando’s been so good for me all week, I think he deserves a reward.”

“Please,” the Brit rasped, turning to hide his face into the crook of your neck. “Need to come so bad.”

“Gonna give you exactly what you want, baby,” you cooed, soft and reassuring as you felt his cock twitch in your hand. “Gonna let you make a mess all over Max, show him what he missed.”

“I’ve been thinking about you two all week,” Max murmured, his hooded eyes watching the small bead of precome leaking from Lando’s tip. Fuck, the temptation to wrap his lips around his cock was strong but you hadn’t given him permission.

“Yeah?” You questioned, something mischievous glinting in your eyes. “You want me to touch you too, baby? Want me to make your fantasies a reality?”

Max bit back a moan as he nodded.

“Show me how you want to be touched,” you told him, your lips brushing over Lando’s skin as you spoke. “Wanna see you fuck yourself until you’re begging. Watch me make Lando feel so fucking good and then, maybe we will make you come.”

Max groped himself through the fabric of his boxers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe I’ll let you decide if he’s allowed to come or not,” you whispered to Lando, listening to him whine in response as he reached closer to his edge. “Maybe change the roles. Maybe let you use him like a toy for once.”

“Please,” Lando whined.

“If he puts on a nice show,” you told him, watching as Max quickly pushed his boxers down his thighs and kicked them off his bed, his hand already reaching down to squeeze his balls in hopes of gaining some relief.

You only laughed in response.

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singukieee · 3 months

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—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

#san recs #hybrid bts #bts poly #bts x reader #fics recs #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic

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vivvangel · 8 months

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seven | park jongseong.

viv's note 💌: sorry annonniee, the post got deleted ffs. i hate dumblr.

synopsis: jay finds you, and your fidgeting when you're nervous, cute. what he also thinks is cute is how you're a virgin. › pairings & contents: badboy!jay x fem reader, suggestive + fluff. ✧ warnings: university au kinda, truth and dare, mentions of seven minutes of heaven, jay is sickeningly nice, no actual smut.

truth or dare.

what a classic, and to be frank, a fucking nightmare for you. all your mutual friends are asking the dirtiest, filthiest, freakiest, questions to each other whenever someone picked "truth", and going as far as telling someone to grind on another guy when they picked "dare" — and the most baffling part for you is that,, they did it.

there you were, sitting in the circle with everyone else, trying not to get to overwhelmed by everything happening, and one guy spins the bottle. "y/n, it's your turn! truth or dare?" fuck. you think to yourself. "uhh dare? but please don't say something weird" you say hesitantly, which is met with your classmates' laughter. "7 minutes in heaven with.... jay!" the guy says, which is met with an echo of "oohhhhhh"s from everyone. jay looked at you with a menacing smirk — "have you even had your first kiss?" a girl asks, to which you just quietly nod, making everyone go loud again. "jay, y/n, go to the closet, your seven minutes start when you're in there! go, go, go!"

how did this happen? you were in a compact, tight closet with none rather than the park jongseong. his body so close to you that you felt his breath on your neck. you were expecting him to smash his lips onto you as soon as you got into the closet, but to your surprise — "we don't have to do anything if you aren't comfy, just don't respond when they ask", jay says in a soft tone, looking at you with an expression you couldn't figure out. all you could mumble out was an "u-uh", trying to figure out what to say, jay took a step forward, pressing your bodies together, as his hand snaked around your waist. "unless you want to, princess? i don't mind".

"is it bad i want to kiss you?" -- "ofcourse not, baby". before you could even register him calling you baby, you swore you felt his lips brush against yours. "do I have permission, mhm?" he asks softly, and you nod, hesitantly. the second his lips are on yours though, all your hesitance washes away, his lips were so soft against yours.

when he pulled away, you were left wanting more. "can i take you back to mine, mhm?"

after the seven minutes were over, and your classmates ushered you to tell them what happened, and you said "nothing much" — jay actually did take you back to his dorm, which was something you couldn't even believe was happening. "fuck, princess" jay murmurs when you walk into his room, he closes the door behind you. "wanna know how long ive been fucking my fist thinking of you? how many times your innocent little face flashes to my mind when i'm about to cum? mhm?"

you were shocked, to say the least. "i-i, jay-" — he walks closer, "do you want this? we could just chill if not, no pressure". how was he so sweet while making your panties soaking wet? "fuck me jay, please" you breath out and he takes no time in undressing you, "have you done this before?" he asks softly, as he's on top of you, and you shyly shake your head. "gonna fucking ruin you princess, yeah? tell me if it's too much, mhm?" he murmurs.

you lost both your virginity, AND your heart that night. (jay completely stole it)

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orshii · 1 month

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☣︎ Demons of The Darkened Mist ☣︎

☣︎ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader ☣︎ Word count: 6 k ☣︎ Warnings ☣︎ - cursing, mentions of death, injury, mentions of blood

☣︎ Summary: When the world was consumed by dark mist you got separated by the love of your life, Yunho. The survivor camp they sent you to was harsh and unbearable, but Yunho came and rescued you, the two of you then join Hongjoong’s crew which turns out to be challenging. Despite the angelic person he used to be, the dark world changes Yunho into someone you don’t recognize anymore.

Your bond, however, remains strong in a world scarce of hope and fragile trust, but will your bond actually prevail?

☣︎ A/N: Well, hello. Soo, this happened. My first Yunho ff lmao. I want to mention a few things before reading. It is a story that is part of the same world that I wrote with Hongjoong, but it can be read separately because they are kinda different stories. But I recommend Hongjoong's part as well because they are still connected and we can figure some things out from a different perspective. I hope it is not too confusing tho, I tried to put together the pieces. I might write San's story as well and if I get inspired then the others too. One last thing. Listen to IU's Love Wins All with the lyrics, because it describes their story so perfectly and it plays a huge part in the story (you'll see). *sorry for the mistakes* That is all. Byeee!

☣︎ Whispers of The Darkened Mist ☣︎ (Hongjoong's part)

When it happened, I was sitting in the college cafeteria with the love of my life. It happened quickly and we barely had time even to process it. The low sound of the sirens was the first thing we noticed. Hadn't paid much attention to it. But when we heard the voice of our headmistress, saying we needed to go to the hall where the opening ceremonies were held, that was the moment we started to get, that something was very wrong.

They did not let us go home or anywhere. We were closed up in the hall with hundreds of other students and our teachers. They did not tell us anything, they only told us we were not allowed to go outside. The signal on our phones was dead, we couldn't contact our relatives. Not like I had anyone to contact. Jeong Yunho was the only one for me and he was sitting next to me, so I wasn't concerned about my loved ones, mine was already by my side.

All of us were confused and some of us started to panic, was the end of the world coming to hunt us down?

Exactly that happened. I was sitting on the floor against the cold wall of the hall, Yunho, sitting next to me, his heavy head on my shoulder as he was dozing in and out of the real world. His blonde hair spread on my shoulder like a glory. He looked so angelic sleeping, his cheeks a little blushed, his veiny hands interlaced with mine. We were waiting for some reassurance from outside, some positivity that everything was alright, we were hoping they were going to tell us it was just a test and we passed so we could go home. But it never came. And I started to be uncertain of things. Especially when I saw the teachers whisper around each other with concern on their faces. I assumed then something was wrong, and I was sure when some figures with scary gas masks came into the hall, with weapons in their hands. Yunho snapped his head up at that and looked at me with questioning eyes as he squeezed my hand. I squeezed his hand back as he pulled me close to his chest. At least we were together.

But not for long. Those people with the gas masks separated us. I found myself in a room full of girls, away from Yunho, who was solely the only person that was by my side, that I could count on. And now they took him from me. I didn't know if I could see him anymore.

The masked men told us what was happening outside. The world was doomed. It was slowly consumed by dark mist that simply killed people within a few minutes.

The air was unbreathable outside. The only thing that made people's system work, was now gone. The air that was a pillar point of human life, that made humans live, now turned into the toxic air, that killed humans. How ironic was this? Something that once made you alive, now gasping for air that once saved you simply finished you.

They gave us gas masks; it was warm and it was stinking of steel and something I couldn't recognize. But it saved me and I was thankful for that because I needed to survive to find Yunho. Yunho was the reason I wanted to survive.

We were on a school bus when they told us we were going to a survivor camp, away from the population and they were going to train us to defeat the smoke that was spreading unstoppably. I didn't know if that was even possible. To defeat something that was in the air. It wasn't even a disease that could be cured. It was something unreachable for us people, so how could they expect us to defeat something we couldn't reach?

But with time I figured out their purpose. It was training us to survive. Survive until perhaps the mist disappears which can occur in years or even decades. We couldn't know. We only knew that we had to fight and train so that someday the world would return to its normal cycle.

Hope was a cruel thing. It made you keep going, it did not let you choose to give up. It was always there in the back of your mind, laying low, whispering to you things that were slowly impossible to happen. It was like a demon that possessed you. It took over and started to control you. We called it the survivor instinct.

That was why I understood why Yunho slayed down those men and women with his bare hands. The demon took over, it was buried deep down in his soul. But it was always there. I knew it was there he just hid it so well that I almost forgot it existed. When he started to punch those people we met and attacked us, I did not recognize my love. He turned into a monster and it was unstoppable until all of them were lying numb on the floor, their faces covered in blood, their chests not moving, their mounts open as their last move was gasping for air, that never reached their lungs.

People's fate depended on the mist that had permission to lurk in our lungs if we let it, or on our kind that slayed each other mercilessly not even caring we should fight together, not against each other. But four years were long, people started to adjust to this new and dark world.

It was always dark, the black mist surrounded us everywhere. There were a few places where it couldn't reach, but those were already taken by powerful people. And if you don't find an ally that has a safe place to hide in. You were doomed. You had no chance.

Kim Hongjoong and his crew saved us with Yunho. We were running away from the smoke that chased us unstoppably. The smoke was spreading slowly at the beginning, it left us some time to escape from it, but after a while, there wasn’t any place to run. Then we needed masks, that we lost somewhere along the way as Yunho was pulling me by my hand, making me keep going, running away from the mysterious demon that chased us.

We escaped the survivor camp together after one year of training there. We were in two separate survivor camps when Yunho found out where I was. Yunho was restless to find me. So, I was. It was empty without him; I barely could keep up. The camp was tough and they made us work so hard there were times when we collapsed on the floor, our strength leaving us. It was like military training but with the masks on. And it was more difficult doing it with the thing that saved you but at the same time made it harder to breathe and move. They taught us how to survive with physical but also mental training. They prepared us for the world mentally so we wouldn’t give up on our lives. There were times when I wanted to give up. But the thoughts of Yunho being alive and the moments when he appeared in my dreams encouraged me to keep going and to survive for him. I was determined to do so.

Then Yunho found me on a cold night outside, a mask covering his handsome face only his eyes visible, that I missed so much, I almost forgot how he looked. I was the guard that night on the west side of the building. I didn't recognize him at first, one year could change you, not only physically but mentally. Yunho looked more buffed than the last time I saw him. And his hair was black now. It made him more intimidating. The angelic Yunho I knew was gone. He was working so hard and it was visible on his body. He was wearing the green uniform like the men were wearing with gas masks, brown military boots, and a gun hanging from his shoulder.

He leaned down as he held me by my shoulders to steady me, preventing me from hitting him in the face. "It's me, angel. Yunho." He whispered as he looked behind him a little stressed, afraid of being caught.

I gasped, my mouth hanging open invisible through the mask. My heart started to race. After one year, I gave up hoping to see Yunho again. The light that kept me going was fading away slowly. But Yunho came in time, just as always. Giving me back the light I craved, which always kept me alive, even before the world wrapped into darkness.

"Oh my God, I thought I was never going to see you again." Tears flowed down my cheeks against my will, as I hugged him strong, wrapping my hands around his neck as he circled my waist lifting me. I teared up but I just didn't want to seem weak. But seeing him again made me feel relieved and I felt like I could breathe again, even though my lungs hadn't felt fresh air for a year now.

"I was sure I was going to find you, my angel." He pulled away a little and brushed my cheek with his hand where the mask showed a little skin as he looked at me with so much caring in his eyes. I knew I was between the right arms. "I'm proud of you for not giving up, I know it was hard for you." He leaned close to me his mask meeting mine as he leaned against my forehead, our lips could not meet but it immediately made my freezing heart melt into water that instantly flowed down my cheeks.

I just took his hand that cupped my cheek and closed my eyes, taking in his presence. "I'm grateful, Yun. I was so scared without you, but you were always in my heart and made me keep going." I nuzzled my masked face into his warm palms, that I missed so much.

He smiled at me genuinely as he pecked my cheek through the mask. "Let's get out of here." He said as he grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the exit of the camp that was a great shelter for one year. But a new chapter started and it was now with the most important person in my life and it did not matter where our way led us until we were together. We knew it was going to be difficult fighting against the world but we were facing challenges together and that was what mattered. We held each other's hands and ran away into the misty world to find a safe place so we could survive.

Running was what we always did since that day. We ran hand in hand not letting the other go, encouraging the other if one of us wanted to give up. And we ran on the day as well when Hongjoong found us. They offered shelter for us. We were so grateful for them. We didn't understand why they took us in, they probably pitied us, or even saw the strong survivor instinct in us and took us in, as we slowly became part of the crew. For three years now.

They were some determined people. Everyone had their job, and they took it seriously. I did not want to stay there, but Yunho insisted on staying there as they were our only chance to survive.

Their leader was a scary person, it was hard to make him calm down. But a girl, whose name was Soohee, always succeeded in quieting the man down. She was a little rebellious as she did not always obey his commands. And it broke Hongjoong one day. It made him realize it was hard to lead this many people alone. He needed Soohee by his side and it made them powerful leaders. Just as the whole crew. We were feared by the survivors.

I was sitting in the single bed we shared with Yunho in the bunker that was made out of concrete, the walls cold and dusty. The room was dark, only a little lamp lighted it up. I was sketching in a black notebook that I found in an abandoned mall in the crashed city we were staying in for a while. I was so glad I found something that reminded me of my past life. Drawing was my savior back then. I was an arts major in college and it always set me free when I could draw something. I was good at reading people's expressions and emotions by only looking at them for seconds. Drawing the emotions of people made me forget the painful feelings that suffocated me all the time. My past was difficult and it made me grow weaker over the years. No one was there to save me. I was an orphan my whole life, I didn’t know my parents, let alone my relatives. But when Yunho came into my life, I saw the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

When Yunho came into our shared room with an angry expression on his face, I was drawing him, it was a portrait of him, his features sharp just as his gaze that stared into my eyes deadly. At least one side of his was like the devil, he even had a horn on the top of his right side, his eyes as dark as the mist that haunted us. The other side of him was like an angel. A half glory was shining above his head, his eyes illuminated, his pupils gone.

I illustrated the past and the present Yunho. Back then he was an angel who would never hurt anyone, he always made compromises, so it was good for everyone. But in the present where the dark mist was full of our demons, he changed. He was nothing like the old Yunho. He was capable of destroying the already destroyed world. He was capable of killing innocent people just because he needed something from them. He was capable of anything just to keep the people we met, that became slowly our family, to protect them no matter what. And I understood why was he like this. But sometimes I did not know if it was the same Yunho I fell in love with. This destroyed world made us do things we would've never done in our past life. And I guessed it was because survival was the most important thing in this empire and that made us do things that our past selves would be ashamed of.

Yunho sat next to me a little frustrated running his hand through his black hair. He was wearing a leather-like jacket teared up on the sleeves, with black pants and his black boots. He wasn't himself these days. He seemed lost and it made my heart break. I knew the people he killed that day, haunted him in his nightmares. There were times when he woke up in the middle of the night sweating and breathing heavily as he curled up to me for some comfort.

Five years ago, when the world was normal, he was the one who saved me from my demons. Now, it was my time to save him. I wanted to help, but he showed me his vulnerable side only when he woke up nearly crying in the middle of the night. The next day he pretended like nothing happened and it made me think he did not trust me anymore.

"What's wrong Yun? You don't seem like yourself these days." I said a little worried as he leaned his head on my shoulder leaving a chaste kiss on the crook of my neck.

He sighed. "What do you mean?" He snapped his head up to look at me a little triggered.

"You seem…lost." I averted my gaze from his sharp eyes.

"I'm okay." He scoffed as he pulled up his long legs to his chest, not caring about the sheets that he dirtied with his boots.

"Why are you lying? It's me, you can tell me." I looked next to me as he leaned his head against the concrete looking up at the ceiling.

He scoffed again. "I'm not fucking lying, Y/N. I'm okay. Why do you push this topic all the time?" His frustrated gaze met mine. Here it was that look again. The look of trying to seem like everything was alright. He tried to hide his demons from me, but he just couldn't. I knew him like the back of my palm, he could never lie to me. "I just came here to be with you a little, because you always hide here and you just always come up with this shit. I'm tired of this Y/N." He looked at me like I was a nobody. And it hurt.

"I'm just trying to talk to you because you are not yourself Yunho. Why can't you just let me help you?" My voice raised as I started to feel angry.

"I don't need your fucking help!" He said nearly shouting it at my face as he stood up walking from left to right. Those words went right into my soul, making it darken with venom that was eating me up from inside.

I looked up at him, my eyes following his triggered figure. "Why can't you just fucking look at me and talk to me like I'm a normal person?" I stood up from the bed. "I know you are not fucking okay. The nights when you wake up from your nightmares prove it, but you just pretend like nothing fucking happened."

He stood in front of me, his tall figure hovering over me as he shouted. "Because nothing fucking happened."

I scoffed. "Okay, you can't be helped. I'm sick of you pretending like everything is okay up there." I pointed at my temple. "I tried, I really tried to be next to you and support you, but if you don't let me in, I can't fucking do anything." My voice came out a little stumbled as I started to feel like I could cry at any moment.

"I don't see why the hell you are telling me these things. I am alright I just want us to survive, but you just can't get the fact I would do anything to protect you." He stepped closer to me his face beyond my personal space, as his voice raised more and more.

"I know, I fucking know. I saw it when you killed those people right in front of me." I shouted back to his face.

He seemed stunned for a second like the memories of him killing those people flashed in front of his eyes. "Those people would've killed us if I wouldn't have killed them."

"I don't recognize you anymore. Where is the old lovely Yunho?" Tears welled up in my eyes.

"The old Yunho is fucking dead. You have to love me like this or just don't. It's your choice." He was cruel. How could he say those things?

"Okay, well I can't be with someone who just can't let me in and trust me," I said feeling empty all of a sudden. I closed my emotions out; they had no place to be there at that moment.

He just looked back and forth between my eyes, contemplating if I was serious. When he realized I was, he just turned with a scoff saying "Fuck this, I'm out." And slammed the door shut, its noise breaking my heart into pieces. I just fell on my knees and stared at the dusty floor. I couldn't cry, my emotions went out with Yunho on the door hoping they were going to come back.

That day Yunho, San, Jongho, and Soohee went out to set up some traps for whom might attack us. Yunho didn't even look at me when Hongjoong told them to go out. He looked cold and numb to any feelings. So, I just let him be, he might get some "fresh air" outside and come back to his senses.

They came without any warnings. Yunho and the other were away for two hours now. Their staying out shouldn't have lasted that long, but we couldn't get in contact with them through the radio we always communicated with. The line was silent and we started to get worried.

But we had no time to think about what might have happened to them. Our base got attacked and there was chaos everywhere. All of us tried to defend the base that was our home for so long. We just couldn’t lose it. The guys that attacked us were all masked and well-armed. They were strong and we had just no chance at all. They were more in number than us. But we couldn't give up. I was fighting with my full power giving in all of the knowledge I learned throughout the years. A guy came and attacked me with a fucking sword. How could they even find something like that? I had two daggers that I could use quickly and hadn't left time for the other to even think. I quickly dodged the big sword that nearly sliced my throat. I bent down and quickly cut his calves. He fell on his knees in no time and I just quickly sliced his throat without any thoughts. Then there were more. They never seemed to run out of people. They just came and came and we fought with our hearts not letting them break through our defending line.

Some of us got hurt, and Hongjoong got stabbed in the back but he fought further like he wasn't even injured, like a real warrior. Then Seonghwa, Hongjoong's best friend revenged him by taking the sword in his hands, that was on the floor, and slicing the guy's head down who dared to stab his friend in the back.

It was chaos, Mingi was on the floor unconscious, and Yeosang tried to drag him out of the war that was in the big hall of our base. I looked around for a second and everyone seemed like losing the fight. All of us were on the floor covered in blood. Two guys came to attack me at the same time and I just had no chance at all. It was a bloodbath, it looked like a battlefield, the enemy close to victory, and we just couldn't do anything.

Just until these other guys came out of the blue. They started to slice down the enemy, they helped us. And we did not know why, but we fought alongside them and killed the enemy one by one. I couldn't breathe. I was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling and thinking of my beloved Yunho. His face appeared before my eyes and suddenly I felt at ease knowing him by my side. I needed him. He was my oxygen but he wasn't by my side. How could someone breathe without any oxygen? There was no way. And then blackness swallowed me as I fell into a cold and dark hole.

When I tried to open my eyes, I saw white. It blinded me and I couldn't fully open my eyes. The ceiling was blurry and as I started to recognize the noises of our base, was the moment when I started to feel my body. It was screaming at me from pain. My head was aching so hard when I sat up, that I needed to hold my head in my hands and scream. The demons inside my mind have woken and wanted to escape. I breathed heavily when a particular noise hit my ears. It was the beeping sound of a machine, copying the unsure beats of a heart. I looked towards my right side and Yunho was lying on a bed the machine connected to his arms, a respirator on his mouth that helped him breathe—I didn't even know we had equipment like this—I understood now, why everyone wanted this base.

It was horrible and I gasped in shock when I saw him in a motionless position. I screamed his name out loud when I stood up immediately, but my legs went numb under me and I collapsed on the floor my hands reaching towards Yunho as tears rolled down my face. I started to crawl next to Yunho on the floor as my legs just couldn't work from the sudden shock that hit me like a train.

"Hey, hey, Y/N slow down!" I heard a soft voice coming from my side as two hands slowly lifted me from the dirty ground, holding me still like a strong pillar.

"Yunho," My voice cracked as I was crying my soul out. After all, my soulmate was lying unconscious and I did not know what happened to him. Because I wasn't by his side.

"Calm down, Y/N, he is going to be okay." The soft voice came again and I looked up to the face that belonged to the arms that held me strong. It was Seonghwa. He was nearly as tall as Yunho as I needed to look up at him. His sharp features now softened and his eyes were full of worry and empathy. His long black hair fell into his eyes, his plump lift curled down like he was trying not to cry, to show me he was strong.

"Wh-what happened with him?" I asked my voice getting weak.

"They…they found an airplane while they were outside. And they thought it was a good idea to drive it…they crashed into the ocean." Seonghwa's features were frustrated like he couldn’t believe they were so idiot to drive a fucking plane that they just found. It was stupid—I bet it was Yunho's idea.

"And how is he?" I buried my head into Seonghwa's chest not daring to look towards Yunho. It hurt seeing him like this. It made my already shattered heart break more.

"He's…he's in a coma. You two were out for two days already. It was like you were connected." I started to cry harder when I heard Seonghwa's trembling voice throughout his chest. "The nerves in his brain got injured severely and it put him into a coma. It's a defense mechanism of our body, it's better for him like this like suffering while he is conscious. He is going to wake up, we just need to wait for him, hm?" He pulled away from me and cupped my face leaning down. "You have to be by his side and help him through it. We are also here for you, okay?" He wiped my tears away as he looked at me softly.

I just nodded breathing in and out. I needed to put myself together for Yunho. I wanted to help him. "I'm going to get you some food, Yeosang made your favorite." He smiled at me, trying to breathe some life into me. He succeeded and I couldn't be thankful enough for him. I held his hands that cupped my face and closed my eyes.

"Thank you Seonghwa, seriously. I don't know what would we do without you." I looked up at him with a thankful smile.

"You guys would probably be dead by now. I could not count the occasions I saved yall's asses." He said as he walked towards the door. He was our crew’s medic; he was always there to take care of us. I smiled at him and watched as he left the room with one last encouraging smile.

From then on, I did not leave Yunho's side. I was sleeping beside him, whenever my thoughts were so overwhelming it knocked me out. Or I just sketched him into my notebook laying there in the bed not moving at all. The beeping sound of the machine slowly drove me crazy as sometimes I groaned at the noise and I wanted to crash it into pieces but then it would kill Yunho so I just started to doodle angrily into my notebook. There were occasions when I talked to him, letting him know my thoughts and telling him what was happening in the bunker while he was unconscious. Everyone missed him.

It was already two weeks since the accident. Yunho was still lying unconscious. It turned out a girl saved them, as she was right at the beach when they crashed and she pulled out some information from an unconscious San so she could call help for them. I knew the girl. It happened for us to be at the same survivor camp, she was a determined and unstoppable girl and I knew she was going to survive this cruel world. She was always distant from us in the camp, she did not let anyone close and I understood. She just didn’t want to see how her friends were going to die. So, she needed to keep up a wall that separated her from disappointments. She saved Yunho's and the other's lives and I was grateful for her.

Jongho and San made it out with smaller injuries just as well as Soohee. I wasn't angry at them for surviving but why Yunho needed to suffer the consequences? Why he couldn’t just wake up so I could hug him finally and ask for an apology for arguing with him about things that didn't even make sense? We were both tired and the glass was full it overflowed our boundaries and we both broke.

As I was looking at Yunho's soft features sitting beside his bed on a chair, while he was struggling inside his mind, fighting down his demons, his face in this state reminded me of the old Yunho I fell in love with. His lips slightly curled up even in his sleeping state his muscles relaxed, the worrying expression that always seemed to be on his face recently, now gone.

An old memory of ours popped up in my mind as I watched his soft features.

I was filming Yunho with my video camera as we were walking around the streets of Tokyo. We decided to go on a trip with the two of us so we could spend some time together. It was dreamlike. It was spring, and the weather was still chilly a little. The cherry blossoms just started to bloom, and the petals of the flowers that already withered fell on the ground making it look like a rain full of pink petals. Yunho was wearing a brown long coat with blue jeans and black Converse shoes. His hair was dyed blonde making his features look softer. He looked like he came straight out of a K-drama. He smiled at me through my camera as I filmed him, the rain pouring at us as he held an umbrella in his hands, coming towards me with a pouting face because I had no umbrella. He held it above me and stood beside me, the umbrella giving us both shelter from the rain as we stood in a walking street. He leaned down and kissed me happily. I felt like my heart would explode from how happy I felt at that moment.

Then Yunho saw a karaoke bar and of course, we needed to go in, because he loved to sing. His voice was soft and made me feel at ease like I was in the best place I could ever be. No matter where I was until I was by his side.

I smiled at him as he was standing in front of me with a microphone in his hands, smiling at me as I sat on the couch that was in the karaoke room.

"Dearest, darling, my universe. Would you take me along?" He started to sing sweetly, his eyes boring into mine, and I was blushing the whole time.

"Far away in the universe from Earth to Mars. Will you please go with me?" He reached his hands towards me as an invitation I smiled at him and took his hand.

"Run away from the world, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover." We sang together, as our voices melted into each other's. He held my hand, the microphone between us as we sang, his eyes looking at me with passion and with love.

"Give me a lovelier kiss, lover. Love is all, love is all. Love, lovе, love, love" Our voice got higher and higher as we sang, smiling into it when my voice cracked a bit. I felt like I might cry right there, because of how much he meant to me.

I found myself singing the song that made our love bloom into a mesmerizing cherry blossom, that never withered, as I looked down at Yunho’s unmoving figure.

"In the еnd, even though. How is it us? For us?" I started to sing quietly, my voice barely coming out. "Run away from the world, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover. Will it be a bad ending for us two, gone astray?" Tears fell down my cheeks like raindrops when the lyrics made so much sense. Was it the end of us? "Run away from necessity, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover." I held Yunho's hands as my sad tears fell on our hands. I closed my eyes.

"Give me a lovelier kiss, lover." A weak voice sang the song that wasn't mine. "Our love wins all, love wins all." I snapped my eyes open and I saw Yunho looking at me with a weak and soft feature. And I started to cry harder. I jumped to the bed and on Yunho who groaned from the sudden impact. I was lying on top of him as I buried my head into his chest.

"You are here," I whispered as I still couldn't believe he woke up.

"Of course, I'm here angel." His voice was weak from the lack of speaking. I felt his hands traced up and down my back to calm me down.

"I was so scared, Yun." I lifted my head to look into his eyes. He smiled at me sweetly.

"I know, I'm here now. Come here." I scooted up, close to him as he sat up against the headboard and I straddled his legs.

I traced my fingertip on his features that I did so many times while he was unconscious, but it was different, because he looked full of life, like sunshine. My sunshine. "I'm so sorry Yunho for pushing you all the time. It was obvious you wanted to handle your feelings your own and I just didn't let you. I'm—"

"Hey, angel," His finger traced my lips to make me quiet. "I was stupid, okay? It was selfish of me, for pushing you away. I do trust you and I do love you; I was just an idiot who seemed to slowly lose himself…Forgive me please." He whispered those last words as his fingers still brushed my lips and it gave him comfort.

"It's okay, we will fight through it together, okay? After all, love wins all nah?" I smiled at him sweetly as he giggled.

"Love wins all, my angel." He whispered as he leaned closer to my lips.

And when our lips met, I felt like the world just healed and we were free to go out without a mask to breathe fresh air. Because he was my oxygen, he gave me the strength to fight the demons that haunted us in the dark mist. His hands wandered down to my waist as he pulled me impossibly closer to him, I wrapped my hands around his neck and deepened the kiss. His lips brushed against mine passionately like we were separated for an eternity. It did seem like it was an eternity. I learned my lesson and I knew I couldn't be apart from Yunho for even a second.

So, we are going to keep running hand in hand, running away from the venomous mist, or stopping to fight with the demons inside it. It didn't matter until we were together and the world was back to its normal phase.

But will the world ever go back to how it was before?

220 notes · View notes

filmbyjy · 6 months

Note

husband ff Jake??

OUR LOVE

a/n: ahhh i’m trying to finish past requests and i’m sorry this took too long 😭 i didn't want to write a too long of a story so this is just a small one. it is also crack bc i was not in my right state of mind to focus 😭

WARNING: mentions of pregnancy, talking about sex and stuff. no smut bc i can't write it anyways.

“come on noona! it will be fun! travelling around the world with us and of course jake hyung.” sunoo excitedly exclaims.

you could see the excitement that the other boys had. especially, the boy who had his hands placed on your thighs. “please, baby? take it like another honeymoon until we actually have time for one.” jake pouts.

“oh, yeah. we could walk around and show noona some of the places we’ve been too!” jungwon says.

“I don’t know guys…I feel like I would be intruding. after all, I’m not part of enhypen.”

“but you are part of ‘our family’. besides, you and jake hyung are married!” ni-ki says.

you looked at the other boys for reassurance and they seemed okay with it but you still felt bad. they’d have to get an extra ticket if you came along with them and ENGENEs probably didn’t want to see you in their content.

ever since you and jake got married, there had been quite a lot of death threats sent to you. it was so bad to the point that enhypen’s legal team had to step in on behalf of you. despite having a legal team to help you with any threats, it still didn’t stop. you couldn’t even really leave the house without being recognised in the streets and some ‘engene’ yelling at you for stealing their idol from them.

it definitely didn’t help now that you’re pregnant. which was a surprise for jake (and the boys). this is also why you wanted to stay in Seoul. you couldn’t travel around, not when you’re at your early stages of pregnancy. actually, the obstetrician had already explain to you that you could travel around but you didn't want to take the risk.

“I don’t know, boys…” you say. ni-ki pouts. jake grabs your hand and squeezes.

“something wrong, baby? you usually don’t hesitate on hanging out with us. in fact, don’t you love travelling with us?” jake asks in the softest tone possible.

“I’m fine. I just feel scared…what if the ENGENEs find me annoying? I mean, I always somehow appear in your content and like they are forced to see my face. you know some of them don’t even like me.”

“well, first off. those aren't ENGENEs." jungwon says. "no ENGENE would hate on someone who is close to us or is family to us. besides, even if they are 'ENGENEs', they need to learn that jake hyung is happily married to you."

jake hums at jungwon's words. "you're my wife and they should respect that. i still show as much love to ENGENEs despite being married to you." jake tilts his head. "so, baby. you don't have to worry about a thing. i'll protect you and put you first over ENGENEs if they talk bad about you."

"thanks, babe."

"so why can't you travel with us? there must be another reason right?"

you sighed, "i'll tell you and the boys in a few days. don't worry, it's a really good explanation. i promise i'm not lying or trying to avoid it. i just haven't done something."

"now that's just making me more worried, princess." jake pouts.

"it's nothing bad, i promise. give me like 3 days."

"okay, fine. hmm, but in 3 days we'll be at practice the whole day."

"i know, i'll swing by your break as per usual."

the other boys were just as confused as jake but they just kept quiet.

3 days later

you had gone to HYBE to visit the boys like you usually did. you had brought some food, snacks and box with a balloon tied to it. a little extra thing for jake since you were going to reveal to him about your pregnancy. you had placed the food at the pantry so they could eat there.

you had knocked on their practice room door and popped your head in after you heard a 'come in'.

"i brought some food and snacks! come out before the food becomes cold."

the boys wiped their sweat and went out of the practice room. the coffee table was filled with food and snacks. their jaws dropped.

"did you plan this with the staff or something?"

"a little. it's a little reward for working hard for your tour." you say. jake goes over to peck your lips.

"baby, this is amazing! i married and dated the right woman!" jake exclaims. you laughed.

"what's that?" ni-ki points out the box with a balloon tied to it.

"dessert, eat the food first. it's going to be cold."

and so the boys dig into the food. with schedules being packed and having practices for the whole day lately, they were unable to eat such good food. they were thankful you were there to look after them and feed them well like a mom.

"okay, we're done with the food. i want to open the cake!" ni-ki pouts.

"mmm, how about we have jake open the cake and also cut it in the honour of the start of fate tour!" you say. the boys and jake didn't think much of it so they allowed jake to open and cut the cake.

when jake opens the cake box, he was met with the words "i'm going to be a dad!" and the ultrasound picture stuck to the roof of the box. his jaw drops as he slowly looks up at you. the boys looked over his shoulder as they noticed jake's shocked expression. their jaws dropped quickly after processing the words written on the cake.

"surprise." you shyly say.

"you're- holy shit." jake stands up and hugs you tightly. "i'm going to be a dad!!"

"wait wait. this is a lot to process." jay says. "you two have been fucking while we're all at the dorms..."

"no, that's not the main thing. they didn't use a condom! oh my god, you two are freaky!" sunghoon's face scrunches in disgust.

"we don't do it all the time! it was one time and that was to celebrate the day i proposed to her. i booked a hotel for me and (name) because i respected you guys."

"jake's little swimmers are working hard. just do it once and she gets pregnant?" heeseung says.

"why do you have to say it in the most graphic way in front of the younger ones." you hid your face on jake's chest, clearly embarrassed. not a single words were coming out of the younger members' mouths.

"okay, but can we eat the cake..." ni-ki voices out.

"yes, we can." jake says.

and so after the shock, everyone goes to enjoy the cake that you had brought. they cheered for jake and happily congratulated him. since they were going on tour, jake promised to always call and check up on you whenever he could.

and just before he left, both you and him announced to both of your parents that you were expecting. they all had thrilled faces when they realised that they would be grandparents. throughout the whole tour period, you had stayed with your parents as an advise from jake so that in case something happened, your mom would be around.

you were glad to have someone as caring as jake and you couldn't have asked for a better husband than him.

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lozchi · 2 months

Text

KNOCKDOWN

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Prologue: 1.7k words

The kindergarten playground was a battleground of tiny tempers and unfiltered emotions.

“THE GIRAFFE IS MINE! AHHHGHHHHH!”

And no one exemplified this more than Ryomen Sukuna.

Even as a youngster, Sukuna was a formidable presence. He constantly found himself in trouble, getting into conflicts with peers and receiving harsh rebukes from teachers who were unable to tame his unruly nature.

"I apologize for hitting Tanaka's balls, I will do it again…"He trails off.

"Sukuna!"

"Alright! I won't! Tsk, adults."

In the sandbox one day, Sukuna noticed two boys your age standing near you, whose names he didn't care to remember. Their pushing and teasing was causing you to cower in fear from their cruel words. You hastily use your arm to wipe away your tears and snot, wishing they'd go away.

“I juz wan’ play here! I was here first! Lemme be!” You yell.

“You're a girl! You can't tell us what to do!” Sukuna's usual urge for fights found a new purpose.

“I'm not a bad boy if I'm helping someone, heh.” He thinks to himself.

With a determined glare, Sukuna marched over, fists clenched. "Hey, you dummies!" he yelled, his voice carrying an authority that belied his age.

The bullies turned, sneers plastered on their faces. "What's it to you, poopy head?" one of them taunted.

Before the boy could react, Sukuna's fist collided with his nose causing a horrifying sound. The boy fell back, holding his face while blood streamed down. Sukuna dodged the swing from the other bully with quick reflexes. He responded by delivering a quick punch to the bully's abdomen, leaving him breathless. The bully bent over in half, struggling to breathe before falling to the ground.

“Mommy! Mommy! Help me!” The boys cried in unison.

"Had enough?" Sukuna spat, standing protectively in front of you as the bullies scrambled away in tears.

You looked up at your savior with wide, grateful eyes, wiping your tears away. Boy, was he in so much trouble that day.

“Ff-thank you, ‘K-Kuna.” You sobbed.

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just don't cry about it."

From that moment on, you were drawn to Sukuna like a magnet. At first, he found your constant presence irritating. You would trail behind him, mimicking his every step. If he ran, you ran; if he stopped, you stopped. When he sat on the swings, you’d sit beside him, your small legs dangling in the air. During snack time, you’d offer him your favorite treats, hoping to win his approval. Sukuna often rolled his eyes at your antics.

"Why are you always following me?" he grumbled one day as you trailed behind him.

"Because you’re my hero," you replied with a bright smile, holding out a piece of candy.

"Want some?"Sukuna's scowl softened just a fraction as he took the candy.

"Fine, but stop being so annoying."

He found himself looking forward to the treats you brought and the way you cheered for him after his fights.

You would defend him to the other kids, proclaiming proudly;

"Sukuna's the strongest! No one can beat him!"

Even when he found your declarations embarrassing, a part of him enjoyed the attention. Slowly, your loyalty began to chip away at his tough exterior. Without realizing it, Sukuna began to appreciate having you around.

The dynamic between you and Sukuna only deepened as you both entered high school. Sukuna’s reputation as a fierce fighter had followed him, and it wasn't long before other delinquent students sought to challenge him, either to prove themselves or settle old scores. You often found yourself waiting near the school gates or in the secluded corners where these fights typically occurred.

The aftermath was always the same: Sukuna standing victorious, his opponents nursing bruises and pride. You would rush to his side, your bag already prepared with a first aid kit.

"Hold still," you would command softly, dabbing at a cut on his cheek with antiseptic.

"I don't need your help," Sukuna would grumble, though he never pulled away.

"Stop being stubborn," you’d reply, focusing on cleaning his wounds. "If you keep this up, you’re going to have more scars than I can count."

Sometimes, it would be other delinquent students wanting to mess with each other, using Sukuna as their proving ground. But no matter how many tried, Sukuna remained undefeated. His skill and ferocity in battle were unmatched, and you were always there to patch him up afterward.

One evening, after a particularly brutal fight, you were carefully bandaging Sukuna’s knuckles.

"You really should find a less violent hobby," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, wincing slightly as you tightened the bandage.

"And what would that be? Knitting? Horseback riding? Ooh, what about pottery?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "I just worry about you, that's all."

He looked at you, a rare softness in his eyes. "I know. Thanks.”

Once you turned eighteen, the news hit you like a freight train: Sukuna had to leave for another country. The weight of his departure was heavy, pressing down on your chest as you tried to process it. His last day arrived all too quickly, and you found yourselves standing in the empty school courtyard, the familiar surroundings now filled with a profound sense of finality.

"I can't believe you're leaving," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "I'll miss you so much."

Sukuna's usual bravado was absent, replaced by a quiet resignation. He met your eyes, his own filled with a sadness.

"I don't really have a choice," he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything," you replied instantly, desperate to hold onto any part of him.

"Stay safe for me, got it?" His voice was firm, but you could hear the underlying plea.

"I will," you promised, your throat tightening as you fought back tears. "You too, Sukuna. Stay safe."

He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. "I mean it. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," you assured him, though you wished you could say more, do more to make him stay.

As he turned to leave, you felt an ache in your heart, a deep, gnawing sense of loss.

"Sukuna," you called out, your voice breaking slightly. "I'll miss you."

He paused, his back still turned to you. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but all he could manage was a low hum of acknowledgment. "Protect yourself for me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You watched him walk away, each step taking him further from you and deeper into an unknown future. As he disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He wished he had said it back, wished he had found the courage to tell you how much you meant to him. But for now, all he could do was carry the hope that one day, he would have the chance to make things right.

No way of contacting him, Sukuna gradually became a distant memory. The sharp, vivid images of your childhood together blurred as you got busier with your studies. The demands of school, extracurricular activities, and the push towards your future left little room for reminiscing. Each passing day added another layer of distance between you and the boy who had once been your closest friend.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was on a different path. He threw himself into intense training, honing his skills with a singular focus. His natural talent and relentless drive quickly propelled him to the top of the mixed martial arts world. As you buried yourself in textbooks and exams, Sukuna was making headlines, becoming a prodigal MMA fighter known for his unmatched ferocity and technique.

Years slipped by, and the memories of Sukuna became like old photographs, faded and tucked away in the back of your mind. Occasionally, something would trigger a fleeting recollection—a particular song, the scent of antiseptic from your first aid kit, or the distant sound of a playground. But these moments were rare and quickly overshadowed by the pressing concerns of the present.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna’s name began to rise in the sports world. Articles, interviews, and televised matches showcased his prowess, but in your bubble of academic pursuits, his fame went unnoticed. You had yet to discover the remarkable journey Sukuna had undertaken -- the one that had transformed him from the fierce protector of your childhood to a celebrated MMA prodigy.

Despite the cashflow and all the attention that came with his success, Sukuna felt a deep, gnawing emptiness. The trophies, accolades, and the roaring crowds failed to fill the void left by your absence. He would often find himself staring out at the arena from behind the scenes, lost in thought.

Sukuna imagined what it would be like to see you in the crowd. He could almost hear your voice cheering for him, a familiar sound that had been a constant during his childhood fights. He pictured you there, standing amidst a sea of faces, your eyes bright with pride as you shouted his name.

"YES! THAT'S SUKUNA! LET'S GO!" he would hear you say in his mind’s eye, your voice as clear and encouraging as it had been all those years ago.

He hoped that one day, you would see how far he had come, that you would recognize the man he had become and the battles he had fought. He longed for the moment when he could finally show you the success he had achieved and hear you say,

"I’m proud of you, Sukuna.”

But for now, those thoughts remained unspoken wishes he carried with him as he fought in the ring. Every success, every achievement was colored with the anticipation that one day you would be present to observe it, to witness his growth, and to take part in celebrating his achievements.

One day, though, the paths of your separate lives would cross again, and the faded memories would be brought back into sharp focus. But for now, you remained unaware, while Sukuna continued to conquer arenas far away, all the while imagining your cheers in his heart.

Taglist:

just put it under this post or any of the chapters I'll release. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk fanfic #what other tags do i put #ryomen x reader #ryomen x you #jjk fic

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squoxle · 10 months

Text

⛓️Laced with Love ~ Jake ff (18+)

⛓️pairing: Jake!bf x Reader!gf | ⛓️wc: 11.2k | ⛓️summary: You unexpectedly fall for Jake. The sweetest boy you've ever known, or so you thought |⛓️cw: 🔞MDNI!! heavy petting, oral sex f. & m. giving/receiving, unprotected sex, mentions of abuse, swearing, profanity (req by: anon) 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝑆𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤／𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐸𝑚𝑜𝑗𝑖❤️‍🔥

a.n: link to part 2

"Excuse me, ma'am. This is NOT what I ordered. I want a refund."

Here goes another Karen, complaining about an order they definitely made and just changed their mind after a sip. "Yes, you did Miss. If you have the receipt it should tell you right there," you replied trying to keep your cool. After all, this wasn't the first time someone like her tried to pull a stunt like this.

"I don't keep receipts, but I'm telling you that I most certainly did not order this. So you can either give me what I paid for or refund me my money." God her voice was so fucking annoying and you know she's lying, but you can't risk getting in trouble at work over some entitled middle-aged soccer mom.

"That's alright ma'am. We keep a merchant copy of receipts for situations like this," you proceeded to pull out a thin slip of paper showing the details of her order. "See ma'am. It's on the receipt, right here. A venti skinny matcha latte with almond milk," you pointed to the only item on the receipt.

"No, this can't be right. I asked for a light Caramel Frappuccino with oat milk." "Well that's not on the receipt and you've already finished most of the drink so I honestly don't understand how it took you so long to realize this wasn't your order before you decided to come up here." "You know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. I am not going to stand here and take this disrespect from some Gen Z brat. I'd like to speak to your manager. Where's your manager?" The woman proceeded to shout for the manager until he eventually came back from his smoke break.

Mr. Lee, but you usually called him by his first name. Well, only when you weren't at work. He was pretty cute, but also fairly young to be the manager. However, you couldn't deny the fact that he was the best manager you've ever met. You don't know if it was his big, brown, doe eyes or his perfect smile that seemed to make everything okay.

"What's going on in here?" "Are you the manager?" she panted frantically. "Yes ma'am I am. How can I help you?" "Oh thank god. This young lady is being very disrespectful. I came up here to inform her that my order was incorrect and that I'd like a refund. But she won't do it and I don't know why."

"Probably because you drank more than half of the damn thing before coming up here with that story," you butted in.

"Hold on kid. I got this," he said before walking behind the counter. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't refund your money for a drink that you claim to be the wrong order even though you sat there and drank it knowing that it wasn't right--" "I'm allergic to nuts!! Are you trying to kill me? Ahhh!!" "Ma'am you need to calm down. If you were truly allergic you would be having a reaction right now--" "I AM!! I feel like my skin is on fire!! I'M BURNING!!" she screamed before falling to the ground.

This woman was being absolutely ridiculous. Now she was faking an allergic reaction.

"Well then someone should call 911 and have you taken care of, right?" "No!! I'm afraid of hospitals are you insane?!" she shouted. "Ma'am it's obvious that you're faking so can you please get up and leave before I have you escorted by the police?" But she didn't get up, instead, she kept on screaming and hitting the floor. It wasn't long before one of the customers got up from their chair and proceeded to drag her out of the store. "Don't fucking touch me! Help! Somebody help me! This man is trying to assault me!"

"I hate dealing with people like that," you said rubbing your forehead. "Yea, I hate em' too. But look at it this way, that was the last customer for your shift," he smiled patting you on the shoulder. "Yea, I guess you're right," you sighed untying your apron and placing it on the hook.

Instead of taking an Uber home, you decided to walk. You didn't live very far away and you kinda wanted to take this time to clear your mind. Balancing school and work was challenging on its own, you didn't need energy vampires like Karen to stress you out.

You were walking through the city park as a dog ran up to you. "Woah! Down boy...or girl!" the dog tackled you to the ground and licked the left side of your face. "Ugh!"

PHWEEET!!

The ear-piercing whistle caught the attention of the dog hovering over your body.

"Here boy! Come on! Tsk Tsk." the dog bounced over to a dark-haired boy waving a frisbee over his head. "Go get it!" He shouted, flinging the plastic disk far away. You watched as the dog ran after the frisbee.

"Are you okay?" The boy asked, extending a hand towards you. You didn't even notice he was standing that close to you. "Oh, umm...yea. I'm good. Thanks," you replied as he pulled you up to your feet.

"I'm Jake," he smiled. "I'm Y/N," you replied. "Nice to meet you Y/N. Oh and sorry about Jasper," he chuckled. "Is that your dog?" "No, it's that kid's," he said pointing to the little boy that ran behind the dog you now knew as Jasper. "He's actually really sweet. And he likes meeting new people," Jake turned to look at the dog lying on his back while the little boy scratched his belly.

You took the chance to look at Jake. He was really cute and seemed like a nice guy. If you weren't covered in dog droll and walking home from work you'd probably stick around to get to know him a little more. But you were tired, so you decided to just go home.

"Hey, do you wanna go meet him? Well...meet him again?" Jake smiled awkwardly. "Oh, umm I--sure."

*Okay, never mind. I guess sleep can come later* you thought to yourself as you followed behind Jake.

"Bye. See you guys tomorrow," the boy waved as he walked over to his parent's minivan with Jasper. After about an hour--that felt like 10 minutes--passed, you were left alone with Jake. You actually had a lot of fun playing around with Jasper and Colin--that was the name of the little kid who owned the dog.

"You're really good with dogs and kids. Do you have any siblings?" "No, I'm an only child. But I've always managed to surround myself with enough people that it feels like I have one really big family," Jake went on to tell you about a few stories from his childhood. You loved how it was so easy to talk to him. On top of that, he was naturally funny which made him even more attractive.

"Ooh, I just got the biggest craving for ice cream. Do you want some?" "Yea sure," you giggled as you saw the expression on his face. "Awesome. There's a place close by. It's really good." You followed Jake to the small sweet shop around the corner. "There're only a few flavors and some basic toppings. They sell cake too," he beamed as he opened the door for you.

"Hi, Jake!" a girl smiled from behind the counter. "Do you want the same thing as usual?" she asked. "Yes please, thank you," he smiled. "Ok ok, and what would you like ma'am?" you read her name tag: Xoey. "Umm, I'll just take the same thing he got," you smiled awkwardly.

"Are you sure?" "Sorry, this is her first time coming here. Can you get her a menu?" "A menu? No way. She can have this," Xoey said picking up a mini spoon. "This is a newbie scoopy. It's for newcomers who don't know what they want. We have three basic types of ice cream: Strawberry Swirl, Chocolate Fudge, and Simply Vanilla. The toppings are pretty basic too: strawberry, chocolate, and caramel syrups. But--the special part is what you add in. That's how you make your own flavor. We have an array of mix-ins to choose from," Xoey then handed you three mini spoons with each ice cream flavor on it. You tasted them all. Creamy and delicious. "Oh, and we also have a recipe book of possible flavor combinations," Xoey added as she flipped out a colorful book, plastered to a rotating stand.

"Here ya go Jakey," Xoey smiled, handing Jake his ice cream. He watched as you created your ice cream concoction. "Hey, Xo. Just so you know I'm paying for her okay." "Save your money. The first cup is on the house Jakey," she smiled as she handed you your creation. "Enjoy," she smiled. "Thank you," you smiled back.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "I haven't even tried it yet," Jake picked up the spoon and put it in your mouth. "Mmn!" " So, how's it taste?" "Good," you mumbled with a mouthful of ice cream.

Jake giggled a bit after you said that. "What?" you mumbled again, tossing the cold cream around in your mouth, careful to cover your mouth with your hand. "You're just cute that's all," you couldn't help but get that warm feeling in your face at his words.

After finishing your ice cream, the two of you exchanged numbers. "Maybe we can hang out again sometime," Jake smiled as he tucked his phone in his pocket. "Yea, I'd like that," you smiled back. "Hmm. It's getting dark outside and I don't mind walking you home. Just to make sure you get there safely." "Thanks, Jake, I really appreciate it, but that won't be necessary." "Hmm, well I'll send you some money for a car." "You don't have to--" You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Jake had sent you $30 on CashApp.

"What the--" "I'll wait with you until it arrives." "You're really not gonna let me go home alone are you?" "Nope. So we're either gonna stand here until the sun comes up or you're gonna call an Uber." "It's just that I don't live far enough from here. An Uber would be useless." "Okay fine, then call me and stay on the phone until you get home alright. Does that work for you?" "Yea, that works," you chuckled.

As you agreed, you stayed on the phone with Jake until you made it home. "Alright, I'm home now." "Great. Well, I guess this is goodbye." "Hmm...yea." "Goodnight, Y/N." "Goodnight, Jake," you smiled before ending the call.

This was not the way you expected your evening to end, but you definitely weren't mad about it.

Weeks went by as you and Jake grew closer together. He loved you and he loved showing you in a number of ways. He really was the sweetest boy you ever met and you were excited to see him every time you'd see each other.

Today, you and Jake were just hanging out at the mall. "Hey, I wanna introduce you to my best friends, Sunghoon and Jay. They're really awesome and I think you'll like them too." "Okay. When do you want me to meet them?" "Today...if that's okay with you," Jake said shyly. "Yea sure that's fine," you smiled.

"Oh oh come on. Let's make a wish at the fountain," Jake laughed as he grabbed your hand dragging you to the mall's giant water fountain. "Okay okay! Jake! Slow down," you giggled behind him. "Alright, you go first," he smiled, handing you a coin. "Hmm, okay. I wish that Jake's friends would like me and I would like them too," You closed your eyes and tossed the coin in the water, opening your eyes after hearing the splash. You turned to see Jake holding the coin to his chest with his eyes closed. You watched as his lips softly mouthed some words before tossing the coin in.

"What'd you wish for?" "Ah ah ah. I can't tell you or else it won't come true." "No fair! I told you what I wished for," you playfully pushed him. "Fine, if you tag me I'll tell you." "Promise?" "Promise," he said before tapping you on the shoulder and running off.

You chased behind him before stopping to catch your breath. "Jake?" you called out, scanning the vast area. "Dammit," you cursed under your breath. "Boo!" Jake shouted from behind you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. "Ahh! Wait...I'm supposed to catch you remember?" "Oops," Jake said. "Tag! I win!" you smiled as you reached to tap Jake's hand with your fingers. "Hehe. Yup, you win. I guess I gotta tell you my wish now huh?" "Yup," you grinned.

"I wished for you to be my girlfriend," Jake said softly still holding you in his arms. You looked up to meet his eyes. "Are you being serious right now?" "Yea, I am. I've liked you for a long time now. I love how I can be myself around you. And I love you," you turned to face Jake who was now blushing a little.

You'd had feelings for Jake for a while now too, but you didn't want to say anything and mess up the little friendship the two of you had. But now, here he was, standing in front of you, confessing his feelings.

"It's okay if you don't like me back. It was just a silly wi--" You cut Jake off by kissing him on the cheek. His eyes widened and he gave you a puppy look before smiling and pulling you in for a kiss.

"I don't want to sound dramatic, but this is literally the best day of my life," Jake smiled before kissing you on the forehead. "Okay now I really gotta introduce my friends to my girlfriend," he giggled before holding your hand and walking out of the mall.

You and Jake were driving in the car on your way to Jake's apartment. You felt like his passenger princess the way he rested his hand on your thigh for most of the ride. This was your first time coming over to Jake's apartment so you didn't know what to expect.

He finally arrived at this beautiful complex that felt more like a gated neighborhood for spoiled, privileged kids living off of their parent's money. You weren't judging Jake, but the other people you saw hanging around the area looked like a bunch of dumb frat boys and preppy girls. Almost like something you'd see in some hyper-unrealistic college movie.

"I just wanted to let you know that Sunghoon and Jay are also my roommates. So, you'll be seeing a lot of them whenever you come over," Jake said as he parked the car. "Oh, that's fine. I don't mind." You felt Jake's eyes staring at you as you reapplied your cotton candy lipgloss. "What?" you asked, snapping him out of a trance-like state. "Oh, nothing. Sorry. You're just so perfect. I still can't believe you said yes," he stammered before getting out of the car and coming around to open your door.

Jake pulled out a keycard covered in stickers and waved it in front of the electronic lock.

*Beep Beep--Click*

"Guys, there's someone I want you to meet," Jake said as he opened the door. "Who? Your mom?" one of the boys joked as he walked in. "It's probably your mom, Jay. Huh Jake?" Jake laughed as he headed to the kitchen with you tailing behind him. "Hey, do you want something to drink?" "Sure I'll take a water," you said as Jake handed you a cold water bottle from the fridge.

"Alright guys, all jokes aside. This is my girlfriend, Y/N," Jake said as he walked into the living room with his hand around your waist. "Right...are you sure you're his girlfriend or did he pay you to come in here and say that?" the boy you now knew as Jay asked. "Ha ha, very funny Jay. She's actually my girlfriend," Jake responded before you could say anything.

"Well, it's just been a while since you had a girlfriend...and I'm sure you remember Becca right?" the other boy you assumed to be Sunghoon added. "Relax, Hoon. I've moved on from her a long time ago. Plus, Y/N is nothing like my ex," Jake replied nonchalantly.

"Okay well, I'm Sunghoon and this is Jay. We literally live here so if you two decide to have sex at any time while we're home, please either change your mind or keep it down. I'm not really a fan of hearing my best friend railing his girlfriend," Jay snickered before laying down his version of the house rules. "My only request is to clean up after yourselves. I don't mind helping out, but I'm not your maid. Also, be careful walking around the neighborhood at night time, they've got some weird ass people out here."

Mental Note to Self: Sex should either be quiet or done somewhere else, don't make a mess, and don't go out alone at night.

You hung around Jake's apartment for a few hours watching them play the game before you fell asleep on Jake's lap. The feeling of him stroking your head was so relaxing, that it was hard to stay awake. When you finally did wake up it was night time and you were alone with Jake.

"Where'd your friends go?" you asked in a sleepy voice. "They went to go order some food. Pizza. I hope you like that," he chuckled softly. "Yea, pizza is good. As long as there's no pineapple." "What?! No pineapple?! But it's so good." "No way. Pineapple and pizza are definitely not a match made in heaven." "Okay well, what is Miss Pizza Connoisseur?" "Pepperoni. It's a classic." "What if it's pepperoni with pineapple?" "Oh god no. That's even worse," you laughed.

"Have you ever even tried pineapple on pizza?" "No, but it sounds like a crime so it probably is." "Ha! You can't knock it until you try it," Jake smirked. "I'm not putting that in my mouth." "Well, what if I do it," Jake said as he grazed your lips with his thumb. "I-umm," you couldn't believe he was getting you all flustered just by touching your lips. "Here I'll even make it a bet. If you don't like it, then I owe you a fondue date. But, if you do like it then you owe me a surprise date. How's that sound?" You were still speechless from earlier, but you managed to mutter out "Yes," which made Jake laugh.

"Honey! I'm home!" Sunghoon said as he barged in holding two boxes of pizza. You and Jake went to the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. "Hold on! Before anyone gets any pizza, Y/N is going to try pineapple pizza for the very first time," Jake smiled mischievously as he pulled out a cheesy slice of pineapple and ham pizza. Jake caught the end of the cheesy string with his tongue and bit it off.

"Alright. A deal's a deal. Open up," Jake said as you opened your mouth to take the first bite. It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. Though you'd probably never order it for yourself. As you were chewing, Jake tilted your face to the side and licked the corner of your mouth. "There was something on your face," he smirked.

"Damn ladies! Get a room," Sunghoon cringed. Jake just leaned against the countertop and laughed at Sunghoon's remark. "While you two enjoy your pizza, I just wanted to let you know that I picked up a liter of Coke," Jay said as he reached to pull down 4 tall glasses. "Oh, thanks. Do you want some too?" Jake asked. "Yea sure," you chuckled awkwardly.

Jake walked over to grab a glass for you and him, filled it with ice, and poured in the dark, fizzy drink.

"Oh and if you want you can stay here for the night," Jake offered as he passed you your soda. "Ehh, that's alright. I have work in the morning," you sighed before sipping your drink. "I can drive you there. You know I don't mind." "That's sweet Jake, but I got it." "Hmm okay, well just let me know when you're ready for me to take you home."

After eating you joined Jake and his friends in the living room to play a few card games. You were on your fifth round of Uno and you were getting a little sleepy, but you didn't want to bother Jake with driving you home. So you planned to just take an Uber.

*Ring Ring*

You're phone rang in your pocket. It was your manager calling. *What could he want at this hour* you thought to yourself. "Hey, Jake." "Yea?" "My manager's calling me. I'm gonna step out and answer this okay. It shouldn't be too long." "Okay, but don't go too far," Jake said as you headed toward the door.

You walked a good little distance away from the apartment. Specifically, you stood next to Jake's car to answer the call.

"Hey Heeseung. Why are you calling me this late? Is everything okay?" "Yea, everything is fine. I just wanted to let you know that I won't be in tomorrow. I have to go to a doctor's appointment with my mom." "Oh my god. Is she okay?" "Well, she said her chest has been hurting a lot and she's been coughing nonstop. So, I just want to get her checked out." "I hope she's okay." "Yea me too," Heeseung was quiet for a bit before continuing.

"You'll be in charge tomorrow. I need you to cover the whole shift as the manager. If it's too much to handle, just let me know and I'll have someone else cover for me." "No, that's alright. I can handle it." "Thanks, you're the best. I owe you big time." "It's no problem, family's important." "Alright well, that's all I needed to talk to you about. Goodnight, Y/N." "Goodnight, Hee," you said before ending the call.

"Meow!" you heard an unfamiliar voice catch your attention. "Excuse me?" you scoffed as you saw a frat boy from earlier walking your way. "Hey, beautiful. Wanna swing by my place for a few drinks?" he asked as he looked you up and down. "No thanks. I'd rather drink bleach." "Aww come on. I just wanna play with you, Kitty," he said flicking your shirt up. "Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you!" You spat pushing him away. "Stop playing hard to get. I know how much kitties love milk," this time the boy pressed his body against you, grinding his hard-on against your pussy through your jeans. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME DICKHEAD!!" you shouted as he leaned over to breathe his alcohol-tainted breath into your ear. "Shh baby. Unless you want my friends to come out here and join the party," he proceeded to cover your mouth, pressing your head into the hood of Jake's car. "MMPH!!" you grunted as you tried to push the boy off of you. Tears started to fill your eyes as you felt defeated. The boy struggled to unbutton his jeans while you laid crushed under his body weight. He let out a slight chuckle as you closed your eyes tightly.

You heard a loud smack before feeling the weight of the frat boy fall off of you. Jake had punched him straight in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Sunghoon trailed behind him and stomped on the boy's head and he laid there with his pants halfway down his legs. Jay came out with a wooden baseball bat as Jake turned around to face you.

"Are you okay?" "Yea, yea I'm fine," you said as he pulled you into his chest. "Let's get you inside," he said as he quickly rushed you into the house.

"I'm gonna fucking kill that guy," Jake spat as he paced around the room. He had taken you to his room for the night. "You're staying here. And I'm taking you to work in the morning." Seeing Jake right now you were in no mood to argue on this one. You felt everything but fine at the moment. You were almost raped and if they hadn't heard you...you don't know what else would've happened.

"We kicked his ass real good and the cops got him," Jay said as he walked into Jake's room. "How's she doing?" Sunghoon asked. "She said she's fine, but I know that's not true," Jake sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry, Y/N." "It's not your fault Jake." "What if I didn't get there in time?" "But you did. All of you did and I really appreciate that."

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead before standing up. "If you want to take a shower and wash that asshole off you can put on my clothes," Jake said as he walked toward the door. "Where are you going?" you asked, sitting on his bed. "I need to cool off, before I do something I regret," he said as he pushed through Sunghoon and Jay.

"Don't worry. He'll be alright. But you really should get yourself cleaned up," Sunghoon sighed. "Yea, and I can wash your clothes to have them ready for the morning," Jay added, flashing a comforting smile.

You went to Jake's dresser to pull out a folded vintage band tee. Then a pair of sweatpants and boxers. Yes, wearing Jake’s boxers felt extremely strange, but in your mind it was better than going commando.

You grabbed a towel from the stack of fresh ones under the bathroom counter and started the shower. You almost didn’t even want to go to work tomorrow, but Heeseung needed you. Plus, your bills aren’t waiting for you to get over this little shake up.

After your shower you wrapped your clothes in the towel you used to dry yourself off with. “Umm, Jay,” you asked awkwardly. “Where do I put my clothes?”

“I’ll take them,” he said walking in your direction. “We have a washer in the laundry room. You can go to sleep in Jake’s bed.” “Okay, thanks. Has Jake come back yet?” “Uhh no, but he’ll be back soon. You should get some rest though. You have work in the morning. But if you’re scared to be alone just let me know. I don’t mind staying in there until you fall asleep,” Jay said in a comforting tone. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Jay nodded his head before walking away to the laundry room with your clothes. You really appreciated Jay’s kind gesture, but you didn’t want to send him through anymore unnecessary drama. He was right, you needed to get some rest for work in the morning. Since you’ll be managing for the day you have to get there early.

>>4:15 am Friday:

*Beep Beep*

The alarm on your phone woke you up before the sun. You managed to get about 4 hours of sleep, which was hopefully enough to power you through the day. You had slept so well that you didn't even notice that you were in Jake's bed...wearing his clothes. "Jake?" you called sitting up in the bed only to see him sitting across from you fast asleep at his desk. You quietly tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake him up.

You walked to the bathroom to take care of your hygiene. However, without a toothbrush, mouthwash will have to suffice. You swished the minty liquid around your mouth before spitting it into the sink and washing your face with the white bar of soap that sat on a dish near the sink.

You left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat. You scanned the counter for a fruit bowl. "Sorry, I didn't sleep with you last night." "Oh my god! Jake, you scared me," you jumped turning to see the sleepy boy standing on the other side of the counter rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing the clothes from last night.

"I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable...I was going to sleep on the couch, but I wanted to be there if you woke up and needed anything. I'm really sorry, Y/N." "Jake...it's okay. What time did you come in last night?" "Umm, I think it was a little after midnight. I just remember Jay telling me that you had gone to bed not too long ago."

"Did someone call my name?" "Good morning Jay," Jake groaned. "Morning you two. How're you feeling today Y/N? Better?"

"Yea, thanks for everything." "No problem. Oh, and your clothes are on the coffee table," he pointed to the stack of neatly folded clothes that sat on the edge of the coffee table. "Hmm. I didn't even notice them sitting there."

Jay walked to the fridge and pulled out a metal water bottle. "I'm going out for a run. I probably won't see you until after you get off. Well, that is if you come back over," Jay shrugged before walking back to his room to grab a baseball cap.

Jake dropped you off at work at 5:30 am. Heeseung was outside waiting for you to inform you of what to do in case of an emergency and a few other business-related things. "Okay, Hee. I got it. Don't worry. Go take care of your mom," you smiled as Heeseung pouted. "Call me if anything goes wrong okay." "Oookay. I will. Byeee," you giggled as you pushed Heeseung out.

Work was the last place you wanted to be today, but you had to do this for Hee. Plus, work wasn't too bad as long as you didn't have to deal with any...Karens...

"Get your finger out of my face Bitch," you heard a customer shout at a table near the window. *Oh no...here we go again* you thought to yourself.

After dealing with that problem, you prayed that you were done with drama for the day.

"Hey, I think those guys are looking for you," one of your co-workers whispered to you pointing in the direction of the two college-aged boys that just walked in.

"How can I help you, boys?" you asked in your best cheery customer service voice. "Uhh, we'll take two glasses of water." "Okay, anything else?" "No, that's good." You felt obligated to pull out your notepad, but two glasses of water were simple enough to remember. It was still a bit strange to you that two boys come in and order water...at Starbucks. However, you were in no mood to play Nancy Drew. You had about 5 hours left on your shift and this was the last order before you could take another 30-minute break that would most likely be taken up by checking on Heeseung and his mom.

You prepared the two iced glasses of water and placed them on a tray. As you walked back to the main dining area you noticed one of the boys was gone. "Umm, here you go sir," you tried not to seem suspicious, but you couldn't deny the bad vibes this duo radiated.

"Thank you," the other boy surprised you, causing you to bump into the table, knocking the drinks over. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you scrambled, grabbing the tissue box from the center of the table using more than half of them to pick up the spill. You slid the cold ice cubes across the table onto the tray you used to carry the glasses. "I'll get you boys another drink." "Take your time," one of them said as you quickly walked off.

You poured them two replacement glasses of water and carried them over to the table. *God that was so embarrassing* you thought to yourself.

You walked outside to take your first break and called to check on Heeseung and his mom. Luckily it was all good news. His mom just had an infection in her lungs that should clear up in a few days.

After your break, you headed back inside to see the boys still sitting where you left them. Most of the ice in their glasses had melted and they'd barely drank more than a few sips. You went over to check on them a few minutes later to see if they needed anything else, but all they said was, "We're just waiting for someone," with the fakest smile you'd ever seen plastered on their face.

It was time for you to close the dining area and shut it down for the night so you went over to tell the boys that they had to leave now. They were the last people to go as you shut off the lights. Most of your night crew stuck around to help you tidy up and left early, as usual.

You decided to walk home. You didn't really want to go back to that neighborhood by Jake...at least not right now.

You left out the back door exit for employees only that led down the trash alley. Turning the corner you saw the same two boys from earlier standing on the corner by a street light. The icky feeling returned almost instantly when you saw them so you decided to walk a different way home.

The sound of footsteps trailing behind you scared you enough, but turning around to see the footsteps came from the two boys made that fear even worse. Out of instinct, you took off running as fast as your feet could carry you. Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough. The boys caught up to you, one pinned you up in a chokehold while the other pulled out a switchblade.

"You got our boy locked up kitten. I really hope you didn't think we were gonna let you slide did you?" the boy holding the switchblade said as he stepped closer to you driving the tip of his switchblade into your collarbone. You winced at the sharp pain and fought to hold back tears.

The boy who was holding you licked the side of your face, his breath alone was enough to make you queasy. The other boy chuckled at your reaction and cut your cheek in the spot that had been licked. Your scream was muffled by a hand. No way were you just gonna sit here and let yourself be taken advantage of.

You bit down on the boy's hand hard enough to draw blood, causing him to release his grip. You kicked the other boy right between his legs, dropping him to the ground. Immediately you took off running back to the cafe.

You scrambled to quickly unlock the doors and lock yourself in. You didn't hesitate to call Jake and let him know what was going on. "Stay where you are. I'm on my way," Jake said before cutting the call. You could hear the boys pounding on the door and shouting all the horrible things they were gonna do to you once they broke the door down.

The sound of a car screeching diverted their attention. For about 20 minutes, everything was completely silent.

*Knock knock knock*

"It's just me," you heard Jake yell from the other side of the door. Without hesitation, you opened the door and fell into his arms.

This was the second time Jake saved your life. "Where'd those guys go?" you asked as Jake drove you to his house. "I took care of them. Don't worry about it."

Initially, you didn't want to go back to Jake's apartment, but now you didn't want to be alone. Once you arrived at the apartment, you called to tell Heeseung what happened.

"What the fuck? Are you alright?" "Yea, I'm fine now." "Hey, if you want, you can take the week off. Just until everything cools down." "But--" "I'll pay you for your time off. Just think of it as a little vacation okay. And please call me if you ever feel unsafe alright. I don't care what I'm doing, I'll be there for you."

It was comforting to hear those words coming from him. Aside from being your manager Heeseung has been a very reliable friend to you ever since you first met.

"Who was that?" Jake asked. "It was just my manager," you shrugged, tucking your phone away. "What did he want?" "I was just telling him about what happened tonight. He said I can have the week off." "Oh well that's pretty kind of him," Jake said before walking away.

You were very curious about what exactly happened to those two boys that night. Not like you genuinely cared, but nonetheless, you wanted to know.

>>8:47 am, Monday:

You hadn't been back at your apartment in days. Ever since that night, you've been sleeping with Jake because you were too afraid to be alone. What if those guys were still out there? On your way to the kitchen, you walked into the living room to see Sunghoon on the couch sipping a hot cup of coffee while watching the news. "Hey, are these the guys that harassed you the other night?" Sunghoon asked upon meeting your gaze.

You turned to look at the television to see the faces of both boys and came closer to listen.

"The bodies of two college boys, Kenan Lanes, and Parker Ansley, were found this morning with their throats slit in an alley not too far from city park. The cause of death appears to be a loss of blood as well as damage to the brain most likely caused by a devastating blow to the head. We are under the assumption that their death was related to drug and gang violence based off of their previous criminal record."

You felt your stomach turn as you thought of the last time you saw them. *Did Jake do this?* you thought to yourself. *No way. There was no way he was capable of something like this*

Without saying a word you walked back to the room to find Jake still lying in the bed. "Did you kill those boys?" "What are you talking about?" "The boys from that night?" "No, why would you think that?" "Because..." "Because what?" "Nevermind," you couldn't bring yourself to accuse him of something like that.

"But if I did kill them, it would've been because of you. I'd do anything to protect you," He said as you walked away.

After about a couple days, you completely abandoned the idea of Jake doing something like that. Honestly, it felt like everything had returned to normal. You had gone back home, but you still see him almost every day. He had become very protective of you and honestly, the best boyfriend you could ever imagine.

>>2:07pm Thursday:

You and Jake were lying in his bed and out of curiosity you asked about his childhood and...his ex-girlfriend. He explained to you how his dad used to beat him and his mom and that his first relationship ended due to his girlfriend's infidelity. But what made it worse was that the guy she cheated on him with was her ex and every time he'd bring up the fact that she was being unfaithful she'd hit him.

"Hey, guess what I just remembered?" Jake asked as you rested your head on his chest. "What?" "I owe you a fondue date." "Oh, right I had completely forgotten about that." "I think it'll be a good way to take your mind off of things," Jake suggested in an attempt to liven the mood. To be honest, the past few days have been pretty gloomy, but he was right. You were going back to work in three days and some alone time with him would be pretty great.

>>6:50pm Friday:

You and Jake sat on his bedroom floor. "I know this isn't the most romantic setting, but at least we don't have to worry about grossing out my roommates," Jake chuckled as he stirred the hot chocolate with the mini wooden spoon. "Have you ever had fondue before?" He continued.

"Nope, but it seems fairly simple."

"Basically," Jake said, grabbing a metal skewer. "You take a strawberry and put it on the stick," he said, picking up a strawberry and shoving the skewer through it. "After that, you dip it in the chocolate. Be careful, it's hot," he dipped the strawberry, coating it completely with chocolate before blowing in it to cool it down. "There's coconut oil in it. So as it cools, it creates a shell that's the best part," he smiled. "Now open up," he said opening his mouth as he pointed the chocolate-covered berry in your direction.

You bit into the strawberry, causing a little juice to run down the skewer onto his fingers which he sucked off before handing you a stick. "Now you try."

You carefully followed the same steps as Jake and brought the chocolate-coated berry to his mouth. Just like when you bit into it, the juice ran down the skewer onto your fingers. Jake pulled your hand to his lips and sucked the sweet liquid from your fingers. You had no idea how a fondue date could be so sexual.

This process continued for a bit before Jake got creative. He dipped his own finger into the hot chocolate and you sucked it off. You could feel the sexual tension deepening now as the next berry Jake dipped he let some of the hot chocolate drip onto your thigh. He bent down to suck it off, this time leaving a mark behind.

❤️‍🔥

He pulled your top over your head as he began kissing your neck and breasts. You stroked your fingers through his fluffy dark hair as he pleasured himself between your tits. He then took another berry and dripped more chocolate onto your breasts following the same process as before, sucking and licking the chocolate up. You winced every time the hot chocolate touched your skin but anticipated his lips following after. The sensation of your touch led him to remove his shirt and crawl on top of you.

Jake reached down to tuck his fingers in between your hot wet lips. He inserted two fingers feeling the way your walls pulsated around his fingers as he pushed them in and out. He then took his fingers out and sucked your wetness off. Then he took one of the strawberries and used the tip of it to stimulate your clit. Spreading your lips he watched as your pussy dripped with clear cum which he caught with the strawberry and brought it to his lips.

"You taste better than the fondue," he giggled before leaning in to lap at your pussy. He leaned over to unplug the machine, cover it with a lid, and slide it under his desk. "Here, you try it," he said as he spit on your pussy and mixed your juices with his saliva. He held the strawberry in his mouth as he fed it to you.

Distracted by Jake mouth-feeding you a strawberry, you didn't notice when Jake pulled out his hard throbbing cock until you felt him pushing it through your opening. "Ngh!" you exclaimed at the sudden feeling. His dick was so thick, you could feel it stretching your walls. The pain came with pleasure as he pumped himself inside of you. You two were still exchanging saliva as he tongue fucked your mouth. You couldn't help but grind your hips against his as he pushed his dick deeper into your pussy. You moaned into his mouth causing him to fuck you a little faster.

"Mmm fuck, Jake," you moaned as you felt every inch and every vein coursing through you. You breathlessly moaned his name again, causing him to pound your pussy harder. "Fuck, Baby. I love it when you moan my name." Jake occasionally let out soft little groans which only turned you on more. "You like that?" he asked upon hearing your moans grow louder. "Ugh, fuck! Mhnn, yes," you whined as he continued to thrust himself inside of your throbbing cunt. "Mmm, your moans are so fucking sexy babe," Jake's voice quivered a bit as he said this.

He pushed your thighs back, exposing your pussy to him. You held onto the backs of your knees as he mercilessly pounded your aching pussy. "Ngh! FUCK! Jake, I can't hold it back anymore," you pleaded as you felt your pussy contracting. You arched your back as you felt your climax approaching. "Cum for me baby," Jake groaned in your ear as he fucked you on his bedroom floor. You moaned as you squirted on the floor.

Fortunately for you, Sunghoon and Jay weren't home at the moment. Otherwise, they all would've heard you moaning Jake's name.

Jake lifted you off of the ground. Your legs were still shaking from your orgasm. He walked you to the bathroom and started up the shower for you. You leaned over the bathroom counter to hold yourself up while Jake turned on the water. "Hold on, I'll be right back with some towels okay," Jake said before leaving the bathroom.

You reached between your legs to feel that your pussy was still oozing with cum and the stimulation from your touch made you crave a second round. Though your body was telling you 'no' your mind was saying 'yes.'

Jake returned shortly after with a stack of towels. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up," Jake smiled as he carefully guided you to the shower. He was only wearing sweatpants at the moment. Fortunately, you were able to use the railing and the rim of the tub for support, as your legs were still a bit wobbly.

You sat down and started to wash yourself, but decided to cum at least one more time before cleaning up. Just then you felt a cool wind behind you, it was Jake entering the shower with his rock-hard dick. He immediately saw the way you had your hands tucked between your legs, pleasing yourself. The sight of you sitting in front of him wet, naked, and horny caused his dick to twitch. "Hmm, looks like I'm not the only one in the mood for another round," Jake smiled, stroking his cock.

He approached your face, pulling your hair to tilt your head back as he inserted his dick into your mouth. "Suck it, baby. Suck my dick with those pretty fucking lips," he smirked as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. He groaned as you pulled back to suck on his pink, fleshy tip that leaked pre cum. You maintained eye contact as you spit on his dick and jerked his cock a few times before putting it back in your mouth. "Ugh hmm," he moaned as you shoved his dick deep down your throat, nearly making you gag.

Seeing the way your eyes rolled back when his dick reached your throat, turned him on more. He grabbed your head and held it close while he grinded your face. You felt him repeatedly jamming his cock in your mouth before shoving it deep and holding it there while he moaned in your mouth. "Ngh, baby. I need your pussy," he whined as he pulled his sticky dick from between your lips.

You braced yourself up against the wall as Jake pounded your pussy from behind. You couldn't even speak at this point, you were letting Jake use you as his personal sex doll. You felt the water hit your back as Jake continued to fuck you harder and deeper, gripping your ass, waist, and tits which made him more excited. You heard him groan as he filled you with his hot, sticky load.

❤️‍🔥

You and Jake finished up in the shower before crashing, completely naked, in his bed.

A few days later, you returned to work and everything was great for the next month.

"Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna hang out today after your shift?" Heeseung asked as you wiped off the counter. "Yea, sure."

It had been a while since you and Heeseung went out for drinks, primarily due to the fact that you had been so busy with Jake and everything. Not that you were complaining, you loved Jake and Jake loved you. But you did miss spending time with Heeseung. So after your shift, you climbed into his car as he drove you to your favorite club.

You and Heeseung bought a couple drinks and caught each other up on what's been going on since you last spoke. You told him about how you'd been doing since the incident and he told about how his mom was feeling much better.

"Okay let's play a game," Heeseung suggested. "What game?" you asked. "Drink or die," he said. "Drink or die? How do you play that?" "Okay so basically, it's like truth or dare. And if you chicken out you have to take a drink. The game ends when one of us finishes our drink," you were already fairly tipsy, but a game didn't seem like a bad idea.

"Hmm, sounds pretty easy," you said as the bartender placed two suicide cocktails in front of you. These were the strongest drinks on the menu which made them perfect for a game like this. "Okay, I'll go first," Heeseung smiled readjusting himself in the chair. "Alright, truth or dare?" "Truth." "Have you ever peed in a pool?" "Starting easy I see. And yes. To be honest, I think everyone has at least once in their lives." "True, true," you nodded.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?" "Hmm...truth." "What's the strangest rumor you've ever heard about yourself?" "Umm, one time back in fifth grade all of the kids used to tease me about a bump on my foot. They said I was growing a third toe because I was some kind of alien." "That's crazy. Okay, my turn," Heeseung chuckled. "Truth or dare?" "Truth...actually dare." "Hmmm let me see," you said scanning the room. "Oh oh, I know. Whisper something dirty to the bartender," you snickered as Heeseung sighed before whistling to get the female bartender's attention. Whatever he said must've been pretty wild because that girl was blushing for the rest of the night.

"Your turn," he grinned mischievously. "What's your biggest sex fantasy?" You didn't hesitate to take a sip from your drink. "Aww come on," he whined. "You just made me do that freaky ass shit so it's only fair we make it even." "Okay, well ask me something else." "Uh uh. You didn't want to tell the truth so now you have to do a dare." "Ugh fine," you groaned, rolling your eyes before taking another sip of the cocktail. "Hey! I didn't even give you the dare yet." "I know, but knowing you I'll probably need it to complete it," he laughed at your remark before telling you to close your eyes which you did obediently.

You felt a set of soft, plush lips meet yours, gently pulling them in. A simple kiss soon joined by a little tongue action. Then you remembered...Jake.

"What the fuck is this!?" you heard a voice that ripped your lips away from Heeseung. "Jake? What are you doing here?" "I was coming to find you! I was supposed to take you home today remember?!"

You had completely forgotten that Jake planned to take you home today.

"Jake. I-" "I don't wanna hear it!" he spat before storming out. "Who was that?" Heeseung asked. "That was my boyfriend," you sighed. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't know." "That's my fault. I didn't tell you," you said grabbing your bag. "Where are you going now?" "To apologize to him," you said, leaving Heeseung behind.

You ran out to catch Jake as he walked to his car. "Jake! Wait!" you called, but he didn't turn around. "Jake!!" you shouted again.

*Honk*

"Y/N!!" Jake yelled out. The loud blaring of a car horn caught your attention as you were nearly hit by an oncoming car. Jake ran to you, grabbing you by the arm as he dragged you to his car. "Get in," he commanded."Jake I--" "No. I don't want to hear a single word about what happened back there. Not until we get home." "Your apartment?" "No...yours," he said sternly, gripping the cold leather of the steering wheel in his hands as he pulled off.

When you finally made it home, Jake waited for you to unlock the door to your room. He sat down at the metal barstool in your small apartment. "I didn't mean for it to go that far, Jake. I swear," you said as Jake dropped his head into his hands. You listened as he let out a deep sigh. "I'd do anything to make you happy. Anything! And this is what I get? You sneaking around with your manager behind my back," he spat. "How would you feel if you caught me at some bar making out with my co-worker?" "I-I would feel betrayed." "And that's exactly how I'm feeling right now. Absolutely, fucking betrayed." "Jake, I'll never do it again. I promise. It was a stupid mistake and I regret it. You're the sweetest guy I've ever known and I don't want to lose you." "Well maybe you'll think of that next time," Jake said as he stood up. "I'm going home. I need some time away from you to cool down." "Oh...okay." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Jake," you said as you watched the teary-eyed boy leave your apartment.

You fell to the ground and cried after you locked the door. You felt like a piece of you had just been torn away. And that piece was Jake. The boy who walked into your life when you weren't even looking for love. And you know that if Jake hadn't come in there, things would've been a whole lot worse.

Ever since that day, Jake's been a little different. You two were able to move past the Heeseung ordeal, in fact, your 6 month anniversary was just around the corner. For the most part, Jake was the most loveable, reliable, and supportive boy you'd ever known, but on the other hand, he was a whole different person.

Even his best friends Sunghoon and Jay had started to convince you to break up with him, but you couldn't. You felt responsible for creating the two-faced sweetheart.

3 months ago…

You were on your way to Jake’s apartment to go and spend some time with him. However, you were running a little late because you had stopped to pick up some food for the two of you.

“Where the hell were you?” Jake said as he opened the door. Your smile faded as you saw the frustrated look on Jake’s face. “Sorry I’m late, there was just a lot of traffic today. But I went to pick up lunch for you…your favorite.” “Oh yeah? And did you go anywhere else while you were out?” “Well i-“ you were cut off by Jake grabbing a handful of your hair.

“You what?” “Ow! Jake! Please let me go,” you whined nearly dropping the bag of food. “Not until you tell me where else you went. And don’t even think about lying. It’ll only make things worse.” “I went to the library,” you whimpered. “To go meet up with someone huh?” “Yes, but—AHH!!” Jake pulled your hair tighter and brought your face to his. “I had to give Evie my notes from class,” you winced with tears welling in your eyes. Jake loosened his grip, relaxing your body. “She was sick last week and missed the lecture…so she was studying…at the library,” you continued to explain.

Jake caught the tear with his thumb as it ran down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I hate to see you cry,” he pouted, taking the bag from your hands and placing it on the counter. “I love you so much. And the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me,” Jake said as he pulled you in for a hug. “How about we go and enjoy our lunch together,” Jake kissed you on the forehead before walking you to the table.

Jay and Sunghoon came into the apartment not long after you and Jake started eating. "Hey guys," Jay casually waved as he walked to his room. You and Jake both responded by waving back. Sunghoon stayed behind in the kitchen to grab a drink while he played around on his phone. Within a few minutes, Jay was already heading back outside.

Both you and Jake assumed Sunghoon left with Jay so when a notification popped up on your phone from a guy named "Nicholas" Jake went ballistic. You barely had enough time to register the situation before you were smacked in the mouth with your phone. A thin stream of blood peered through the broken skin on your lips.

"What the fuck is this huh?" Jake shouted. "Are you cheating on me?" He continued. "Wh-what are you talking about?" you asked still dazed from the first whack. Jake reached to wrap his hands around your throat right as Sunghoon got up to see what was going on.

"Jake! Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing?" Sunghoon ran over to pull you away from him. "You need to fucking chill out. I-" Sunghoon stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the blood on your lip. "This is none of your business Sunghoon," Jake growled. "I'm not just gonna stand here and let you beat on your girlfriend like your dad beat your mom." Before Jake could respond Sunghoon had already taken you outside.

"Are you okay?" He asked looking at your lip. "Yea...I'm fine," you responded wiping the access with the back of your hand. "How long has this been going on?" "This is the first time he ever reacted this way," you replied looking down at the ground.

"Do you at least know why?" "He's afraid of me cheating on him like his ex." "This is so fucking stupid. He does realize that you're nothing like his ex right?" "Yea, but it's kinda my fault.." you sighed. "How?" "Well, he caught me in a bar one time making out with my manager. And since then, he doesn't fully trust me."

"That still doesn't give him a reason to hit you," Sunghoon shook his head. "I don't care about some one-time incident. Jake isn't a child, he needs to deal with his emotions like an adult. He could seriously hurt you. How do you think that would've gone if I wasn't in there? Huh?"

You rubbed your neck, remembering the way Jake tightly gripped your throat, "I...He would've choked me..." "And probably much worse," Sunghoon added. "I know you love him and I'm sure he loves you, but you can't stick around if he's gonna treat you like this--" "But it was just one time, Sunghoon. He'll never do it again," you didn't hesitate to defend Jake. You truly did believe this would be the last time.

"I hope not. If it happens again, just know I'll be dragging his ass out of the house instead of you," Sunghoon said before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm just walking you to my car."

You followed Sunghoon to his car, climbing into the passenger side.

*Click*

Sunghoon locked the doors. "I just have one question for you, do you want to go back in there or would you rather I take you home?" Sunghoon's question danced around in your mind. You were afraid of what Jake might do to you if he was still angry, but you also didn't want to leave him.

"I want to go back in there with Jake," you answered. "Well, that's your choice, but first we're going to get something to eat," Sunghoon sighed before pulling out his phone. "What are you doing?" "First, I'm texting Jay to meet up with us. Second, I'm telling your crazy ass boyfriend where I'm taking you so he doesn't do anything stupid."

>>Present Day:

As badly as you wanted to believe that was the first and last time Jake would ever hurt you, you knew random outbursts were inevitable. But at least he hadn't done any physical harm to your body...right? You've got into some pretty heated arguments where Jake has broken things around you. Another incident happened when the two of you were arguing about him wanting you to quit your job and move in with him.

Though you wanted to move in with him, you didn't want to quit your job. Sure the customers were annoying sometimes, but you loved that place. You'd been working there for over a year now and it almost felt like a second home. But Jake wasn't trying to hear that. He raised his hand and you closed your eyes tightly, bracing for impact. Instead, the sound of glass shattering caused you to jump.

Jake had thrown a glass bottle to the ground and walked away.

Jay came home just as Jake walked away. He rushed over to help you clean up the mess. "What happened?" Jay asked. "Nothing...It slipped out of my hands," you lied. And thus began a trend of you lying to cover for Jake.

Soon after, you moved in with Jake, while secretly keeping your job. Whenever he'd drive you, you told him to drop you off at a store that was a good little walk away from your real job. Yes, you felt bad for lying, but Jake was already controlling so many aspects of your life. You at least wanted this for yourself.

Nevertheless, you were excited about your date with Jake. He had planned a little weekend vacation at a resort not too far from where you lived. Lucky for you, Jake had calmed down a lot over the last two months so you weren't afraid to be alone with him.

Only one day stood between you and your little rendezvous and the both of you were getting very excited to spend some alone time together. As usual, Jake dropped you off at your fake job before you walked away to your real job. "Good morning, Y/N. What's got you all excited?" Heeseung asked upon seeing the smile on your face. "Me and Jake are going on a date this weekend," you beamed. "Sounds fun," he smiled back. "Well let's hurry up and finish your shift, so you can go home and get ready," he giggled. You immediately pulled your apron over your head and started taking orders.

Jake wanted to surprise you with flowers and chocolate when you finished your shift. So he ran over to a florist and picked up the biggest bouquet available. "What's the special occasion?" the lady asked as she rang him up. "It's for my girlfriend. We're going out this weekend for our anniversary and I want it to be special," he smiled. "Aww, that's so sweet. I wish I had a boyfriend like you," she giggled before handing Jake the bouquet. "Thank you," he smiled. "Wait...give this to her. Girls love plushies," she said, handing him a fluffy bear wearing a blue and green bow. "Oh my gosh. Thank you so much. She'll love this. How much is it?" "Don't worry about it," she waved her hand. "It's on the house. Enjoy your date."

Jake just had one more stop to make before coming over to pick you up. A box of chocolates.

He drove to your fake job with the biggest grin on his face, thinking about how you'd react to his surprise. When he finally arrived, he walked in and waited for you to come out. You supposedly worked as a server at this fancy restaurant. So when Jake didn't see you come out even once, he went to find the manager.

"Excuse me. Where's Y/N?" "Who's Y/N?" "She's one of your servers. Here's a picture of her," Jake said pulling out his phone to show the manager a picture of you. "I'm very sorry young man, but I've never seen that girl in my life. And her name is nowhere to be found on the roster. I believe you may have the wrong establishment," the elderly man said adjusting his glasses. "Maybe you're right," Jake chuckled. "Sorry for bothering you. Thank you for all of your help," Jake flashed a fake smile before walking off to a corner to call you.

You didn't answer the first call because you were in the middle of taking an order, but Jake didn't know. So he tried again. One of the servers saw the distressed look on his face. "Hey, who'd you say you were looking for again?" the waiter asked. Jake pulled up your picture and told him your name. "She's my girlfriend and I'm just really worried about her right now," Jake said rubbing his forehead. "Ohhh, I know her. Well, I know her face. She works not too far from here. At the Starbucks down the street. She's a cashier so she'll be in the front. Actually, I saw her there this morning. She's probably still there," the waiter said before walking off. "Ahh, thanks, man. Here's 50 for your time," Jake said handing the waiter a $50 bill. "Woah! I mean, you're welcome," he said holding up the bill to see if it was real.

Jake drove down the street to see you taking orders at the register before turning around to signal for someone to take your place.

*Ring Ring*

Jake's phone rang. He picked it up to see you calling. "Hello?" he answered. "Is everything okay?" you asked. "Yea, sorry. I butt-dialed and tried to call you back to let you know," Jake chuckled. "Oh okay. Well, I have to get back to work. My shift is almost over." "Alright, I'll be over in a bit to pick you up." "Okay, love you." "Love you too," he said before ending the call.

Jake pulled into a parking spot and waited for you to get off of work. He watched as you walked down the street and stood in front of the building to your fake job.

After waiting a few minutes, Jake drove around the block to pick you up. You climbed into the car to see Jake smiling with a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a cute plush teddy. "Aww, Jake. What's all this?" "I wanted to surprise you at work," he said before pulling off. "Thank you so much, Jake. This is beautiful," you smiled before placing a kiss on his cheek. You went on to tell him about your day at work as he drove you back to his apartment.

You were completely unaware that Jake found out you had been lying to him for the past few months about where you worked and he was very upset. This weekend of romance may have just turned into a trap for you. You were going out of town to a secluded area alone with Jake. There will be no Jay or Sunghoon to protect you from the monster Jake could be.

And the worst part was that you didn't even know you were walking to your own doom...

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @nikisdubblchococake @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @nikisblkgf @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae

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animehideout · 9 months

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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 3

Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

Check Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

a/n: sorry for taking too long to post part 3, it's because I post on Wattpad as well {for anyone's who's interested in Straykids x Reader ff check my Wattpad @narae_99 }

Warnings: Mature language.

♪Song suggestions♪ The weeknd - Trust Issues.

Words count: 1.4K

• Time skip •

You sat on the couch in the school's common room, watching everyone chatting together. Yuji didn't leave your side, he was talking nonstop, it made you really happy cuz someone is actually interested in having a conversation with you, since you spent you whole life outcasted and rejected, feeling like an outsider even within your own family. No one found interest in you, since you wasn't a sorcerer.

Gojo watched as you were having fun talking with now; your students. And of course he didn't like that, he was still pissed by the idea that from now on you'd be his colleague. Even though you didn't do anything wrong, and you equally hated the idea of your arranged marriage, he saw you as a burden thay he is forced to carry. All what was on his mind, from the moment you took your vows, is how to make your life a living hell.

Breaking your curse wouldn't come out of charges. He's been thinking of ways to humiliate you and make you feel small in front of everyone. It's like a punishment of you being his wife.

He slowly approached Mei Mei, making sure to inactivate his infinity, giving her the green light to grasp the chance she's always dreamt of and allow her to touch him even though he never let her or Utahime to physically get near him.

“So Mei Mei–why don't you move here and start teaching in Jujutsu High, it would be ravishing to see you everyday!” he said loud enough to get your attention and he did.

“Oh Gojo, I know I've always been pleasing to your eyes!”

“Yes indeed..”

She chuckled as she extended her hand, her long fingers running on his chest,

“I would definitely give it a thought..Satoru” she called him by his first time for the first time, in a flirtatious way.

Mei Mei is a smart woman, Gojo never bothered to look at her before, let alone flirt with her, so she figured out his real intentions right away, so she played along, to offend you, she never liked you anyway.

Mei Mei always craved Gojo's attention, and she's enjoying it now even if it's fake. Her hands couldn't leave his body as she flirted back... touching his broad shoulders, tracing his jawline with her fingers with as sly smirk.

She leaned closer to him, her lips touching his ear, as she whispered, “Want me to offend the shit out of her..Gojo?”

“Do your thing, and I'll deposit that money in your account” he simply answered.

They made sure you were watching. You swallowed hard, observing them as they continued their playful banter, it wasn't jealousy but you felt a mix or irritation and discomfort. Whether he liked it or not, he's your husband legally and in front of everyone, so the least he could do is respect you, at least while others are watching as well, and he can hate you as much as he wanted in private.

“Y/n-sensei!! are you okay?” asked Yuji in repeat,

but you didn't hear him untill he shook your shoulder gently. You were too focused on Gojo and Mei Mei.

“Hm? sorry?” you said waking up from your trance.

“Everything is fine sensei??”

“y-yeah I'm good–just um... I'll be right back”

You excused yourself from Yuji, Megumi and Maki to pour yourself a cup of water.

Both Gojo and Mei Mei started laughing loudly as you walked past them. The atmosphere was too insulting and unpleasant to stay still, especially that your students and even the principal Yaga noticed how your husband ignored you and shamelessly flirted with another woman, you felt embarrassed.

You walked to the school's kitchen to get a cup of water that might cool you down, away from them. You enjoyed the silence, but soon it was interrupted by Mei Mei,

“Oh you're here y/n”

You maintained your composure in front of her, taking a sip from your water.

“Yeah,..was kinda thirsty”

“Come on all of the boys left, we're left alone, all girlies!! come join us, this party was for you after all” she exclaimed, as she started dragging you with her.

“Nah I'm good, it's kinda late so I might just go home”

“Hah? go home to who? to an empty house? Gojo told me that both of you don't live in the same house!”

It's like getting slapped hard across the face! such thing should have been kept private, It's none of anyone's business to know if you're sleeping under the same roof as Gojo.

“He proved himself to be a jerk” you thought to yourself. You didn't know what to say, Gojo has already spilt everything out.

“LETS GO” she yelled, pulling you back to the common room with her. All the girls were there, Utahime , Nobara and Maki.

“our bride arrived, where have been hiding?” said Utahime.

You sat on the couch trying to find a comfortable position, your heart pounding with anxiety.

Out of nowhere Utahime spoke, “So y/n! tell us, is Gojo a good fuck??”

Your eyes widened in shock, first of all you don't have an answer for that since you obviously didn't have sex, second of all, it was too inappropriate to ask such thing.

You stuttered, as you were about to answer, “I- Um..”

But Mei Mei cut you off, swirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she spoke, “Oh I'm sure he was, me and Gojo used to hook up a lot, and let me tell me, he's so damn good” she lied.

Air got caught up in your throat, clenching your fists, struggling to keep on a normal face not letting their provocations take the best of you.

“come on y/n don't be shy tell us!!” said Utahime insisting,

you forced a smile as you spoke politely , “excuse me but I don't think my personal life is up for discussion”

“but wh-”

“Dont push too hard Mei Mei, she's not comfortable to answer this, move on already geez” said Maki clearly pissed.

“Chill Maki, we just wanted to get to know each other on a personal level” said Utahime chuckling.

Maki rolled her eyes in annoyance, you wanted to say a lot of things or just punch them across the face, but it was useless, no matter how hard you try to defend yourself, thanks to Gojo everyone already discovered that your marriage is just on paper.

“Excuse me ladies, as you know tomorrow is my first day teaching so it's better if I rest at home” you said walking out,

“tch how boring” sighed Mei Mei.

Maki followed you “Sensei!! Y/n sensei!!”

“hm Maki?”

“Please ignore them, they feed on provoking others, so please don't focus too much on what they say” she reassured.

You smiled, softly patting her shoulder, “Thank you Maki, but don't worry I'm fine..really!”

•Time skip•

There he was standing in the school's garden, breathing the fresh air, enjoying the cold night breeze.

You were already frustrated and seeing him made it ten times worse. You rushed his way,

“The hell was that Satoru?” you yelled,

He turned around looking at you raising his eyebrow, he wasn't wearing his blindfold, “Ugh! you again, what do you want?”

“Don't you have any manners? casually speaking of private stuff, telling everyone that we don't live together and that our marriage is fake? Don't you know that some things should remain unspoken of, especially in front of strangers?”

He bursted into laugher, mockingly, “Oh the only stranger here is you y/n! now don't tell me you're jealous? Oh is it because I didn't fuck the shit out of that pussy of yours?”

“Hah, jealous?? you don't mean anything to me Satoru, and I'm not dying to have sex with you” you yelled back.

“Then why are you mad about it?”

“Stop spilling private shit out, especially if it includes me or my dignity” you threatened pointing your index finger at him.

He took a step closer to you, his giant frame sending shivers down your spine, eyes conveying threat and anger,

“A talentless, weak human like you can't tell me what to do, besides I didn't know you had any dignity. You're not-”

*SLAP*

You slapped him with all might and power in you. “FUCK YOU SATORU”.

He took it too far, humiliating you both with words and actions is something you would never accept. Even if you don't have any cursed techniques, you're still a human, who deserves to be treated with love and respect. He looked at you in disbelief, eyes widening, the sting of the slap reverberating through his senses. A moment of stunned silence followed, you glared at him one last time, then you left him standing there.

“I'll make you pay for this, y/n..” he promised.

Taglist 🫶🏻:

@hermitkerm @smolbeanzzz @eolivy @sanriosatoru @kiki17483 @khaleesihavilliard @ryumurin @bookswillfindyouaway @numblytemporary

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novaursa · 21 days

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The Dragon's Right (3)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For all chapters, and more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Previous part: 2

- Next part: 4

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The high table, where King Viserys sat with his family, was a place of warmth and camaraderie, a rare moment where the burdens of the crown seemed distant, and only the joys of family remained.

Viserys looked around the table, his heart swelling with contentment. To his right sat his son, Y/N, the prince who had returned to him after years away, now a man grown, strong and capable. To his left, Rhaenyra, his beloved daughter, her eyes bright with happiness as she conversed with her brother. The sight of his children together, both healthy and whole, filled him with a deep, abiding joy.

"It does my heart good to see you both here," Viserys said, his voice warm and filled with affection. He raised his goblet, smiling at the two of you. "After all these years, to have my family together again… it’s a sight I’ve longed to see."

Rhaenyra turned to her father, her expression softening as she took in the emotion behind his words. "We’ve missed this too, Father," she said sincerely, glancing at you with a smile. "But I’m glad we’re together now. It feels… right."

You nodded in agreement, raising your own goblet in a toast. "To family," you said simply, the words carrying a weight that spoke of all the time spent apart, and the bonds that held strong despite it.

As the feast continued, Rhaenyra leaned closer to you, her voice lowering slightly as she sought to bridge the years that had passed. "It’s been too long since we’ve had a chance to talk like this, brother," she said, her tone laced with a hint of nostalgia. "So much has happened while you were away. I want to hear everything."

You smiled at her eagerness, glad to see that the bond between you had not faded despite the time apart. "I’ll tell you everything you wish to know, Rhaenyra," you replied, your voice filled with warmth. "But first, I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. The last time we flew together, you were still learning to control Syrax. How has she been?"

Rhaenyra’s eyes brightened at the mention of her dragon. "Syrax has grown stronger and more confident with every flight. She’s magnificent, Y/N. You should see her—she’s faster than ever, and she’s developed this incredible grace in the air." She paused, her smile widening as an idea took hold. "In fact, why don’t we go flying tomorrow? It’s been too long since Syrax and Silverwing soared together side by side."

The suggestion made your heart lift with excitement. "I’d love that," you said, the prospect of flying with Rhaenyra again bringing back memories of your youth. "It’s been far too long since I’ve seen Silverwing and Syrax together in the sky."

Rhaenyra beamed at your response, the thought of spending time with you once more clearly bringing her joy. But as she looked at you, her smile faltered slightly, her eyes lingering on your face as if seeing you in a new light. There was something different about you—something she hadn’t noticed until now. The years had changed you, matured you, in ways she hadn’t fully grasped until this moment.

You noticed her gaze, her expression more serious than before, and tilted your head slightly, curious. "Rhaenyra, what is it? You seem… distant all of a sudden."

Rhaenyra blinked, suddenly aware that she had been staring. Her cheeks flushed with warmth, and she quickly averted her gaze, trying to compose herself. "It’s nothing," she said, her voice a little too quick, too light. "I just… I was just thinking about how much you’ve changed. You’re not the boy who left for Dorne all those years ago."

Your brow furrowed slightly, not entirely convinced, but you decided not to press her. There was something in her voice that suggested she wasn’t ready to share what was truly on her mind. Instead, you offered her a reassuring smile. "We’ve all changed, Rhaenyra. But some things remain the same—like our bond. And no matter how much time passes, that will never change."

Rhaenyra looked at you again, her eyes softening at your words. She nodded, her smile returning, though it was tinged with something unspoken. "You’re right," she said softly, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer before she looked away, focusing on her goblet.

Before the conversation could continue, the arrival of another figure drew your attention. Daemon Targaryen, your uncle, made his way to the high table, his presence commanding as always. He wore a satisfied grin, still basking in the glory of the day’s events. He took his seat beside you, his movements fluid and confident, the very image of a warrior-prince.

"Quite the day, wouldn’t you say?" Daemon remarked as he settled into his seat, reaching for a goblet of wine. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you. "I must say, nephew, you gave me a good run. It’s not every day I find myself facing an opponent with as much skill as you."

You chuckled, the tension from earlier easing as you turned to your uncle. "You fought well, Uncle. I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that last strike. It caught me off guard."

Daemon’s grin widened, a flash of pride in his eyes. "That’s the trick, isn’t it? Always keep your opponent guessing. But don’t let it trouble you, Y/N. You held your own, and that’s more than most can say."

Viserys, who had been listening to the exchange with a fond smile, leaned in. "It was a fine match, truly. Both of you showed the realm what it means to be a Targaryen. Strength, skill, and honor—those are the qualities that will keep our house strong."

Daemon raised his goblet in a toast, his gaze locking with yours. "To the blood of the dragon," he said, his voice carrying a weight that transcended the casual nature of the feast. "May it continue to burn bright in all of us."

You and Viserys both raised your goblets in response, echoing the toast. "To the blood of the dragon."

As you drank, the warmth of the wine spread through you, mixing with the pride and contentment that filled the evening.

Rhaenyra, still seated beside you, watched the exchange between you and Daemon with a thoughtful expression.

The feast was in full swing, and the air was filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. As the evening progressed, the minstrels struck up a lively tune, signaling the start of the dances.

You rose from your seat at the high table, casting a glance at your father, King Viserys, who beamed with pride. The weight of the crown seemed lighter on his brow tonight, surrounded as he was by his family and the lords and ladies of the realm. The King nodded at you, his expression encouraging as you prepared to lead the festivities.

Turning to your sister, Rhaenyra, you extended your hand with a warm smile. "Sister, may I have the honor of this first dance?"

Rhaenyra’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with delight as she placed her hand in yours. "I would be honored, brother."

The two of you moved to the center of the hall, the eyes of the court upon you. The musicians began to play a lilting melody, and you led Rhaenyra into the dance with practiced ease. The two of you moved gracefully across the floor, your steps perfectly in sync, a testament to the connection that had always united you.

As you danced, Rhaenyra looked up at you, her smile softening. "It’s like old times, isn’t it? Before all the responsibilities and distance."

You nodded, guiding her through a turn. "It is. I’ve missed this—missed being with you, Rhaenyra. But I’m glad we have this moment now."

Rhaenyra’s smile widened, a flush of happiness coloring her cheeks. "So am I, brother. So am I."

The dance continued, the two of you drawing the admiration of those watching. There was a natural grace in the way you moved together, a reminder to all present of the strength and unity of House Targaryen. When the dance finally came to an end, the hall erupted in applause, the court celebrating the display of sibling affection.

You bowed to Rhaenyra, and she curtsied in return, both of you sharing a smile that spoke of a thousand unspoken words. Then, as the custom dictated, you began to move through the ranks of ladies awaiting their turn to dance with the prince.

The next lady to take your hand was Lady Elinor, the daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon, followed by Lady Alisanne of House Redwyne. Each dance was executed with the same charm and politeness, your demeanor impeccable as you honored each lady with your attention. You complimented their grace, listened attentively to their polite conversation, and thanked them graciously for the dance before moving on to the next.

Across the hall, Otto Hightower watched the proceedings with sharp eyes. The King was surrounded by a number of lords, each presenting their daughters as potential brides for you or Rhaenyra. Otto’s mind was calculating as he observed the scene, aware that this was a critical moment—one that could shape the future of the realm.

He leaned toward his daughter, Alicent, who sat beside him, her hands folded nervously in her lap. "Alicent," he began, his voice firm but not unkind, "you cannot afford to be passive in this. You see how the other ladies vie for his attention. If you wish to secure his favor, you must act. Do not be timid—assert yourself."

Alicent looked up at her father, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "But, Father…"

Otto’s gaze softened, though the urgency in his tone remained. "Alicent, this is your opportunity. You’ve spent time with the prince; you’re his sister’s confidante. Use that to your advantage. This is not just about you—it’s about our family’s future."

Alicent bit her lip, glancing at you as you moved from one dance partner to the next. She knew her father was right—this was a rare chance, and if she didn’t take it, she might regret it. Gathering her courage, she nodded. "Very well, Father. I’ll do as you say."

Otto gave her an encouraging nod, watching as she rose from her seat. "Good. Remember, Alicent, you are as worthy as any lady here—more so. Make him see that."

Alicent took a deep breath, smoothing her dress as she approached the line of ladies waiting to dance with you. As she neared the front, she gently but firmly edged her way past a few of the ladies, earning a few disapproving glances but no open objections. The music was still playing, and the court’s eyes were focused on you as you finished a dance with Lady Selyse Florent.

As you turned to offer your hand to the next lady, your gaze fell upon Alicent, who had just reached the front of the line. You smiled warmly, recognizing her as Rhaenyra’s closest friend. "Lady Alicent," you said, extending your hand, "would you honor me with this dance?"

Alicent’s heart fluttered as she placed her hand in yours, the warmth of your touch sending a thrill through her. "It would be my pleasure, my prince," she replied, her voice steady despite the nervous excitement she felt.

The two of you moved onto the floor, and as the music played, you led her into the dance with the same grace and charm you had shown the other ladies. Alicent moved with you, her steps light, her movements elegant. She was aware of the eyes on her, the expectations of her father, but in this moment, she tried to focus only on you.

"You dance beautifully, Lady Alicent," you complimented her as you guided her through a turn. "I hope you’ve been enjoying the festivities."

Alicent looked up at you, her eyes meeting yours as she replied. "Thank you, my prince. The feast has been wonderful, and it’s been a joy to see the realm celebrate your return."

You nodded, appreciative of her words. "It’s good to be home. And I’m glad to see Rhaenyra has had you by her side during my absence. She speaks very highly of you."

Alicent’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, though she maintained her composure. "Rhaenyra is a dear friend. It’s been an honor to be her companion, and I’m grateful for the trust she places in me."

You smiled at her, your tone warm but without any deeper inflection. "She’s fortunate to have a friend like you. I’m glad she’s had someone she can rely on."

Alicent’s heart sank slightly, realizing that while you were charming and polite, there was nothing in your words or demeanor that suggested you viewed her differently from any of the other ladies you had danced with tonight. You treated her with the same respect and kindness, but no more than that. It was clear you saw her as Rhaenyra’s friend—nothing more, nothing less.

As the dance came to an end, you bowed to her, just as you had with the other ladies, and she curtsied in return. "Thank you for the dance, Lady Alicent," you said with a smile. "It was a pleasure."

Alicent returned your smile, though it was tinged with a hint of disappointment. "The pleasure was mine, my prince."

As you turned to seek out your next dance partner, Alicent stepped back, returning to her father’s side. Otto’s expression was unreadable as he watched her approach, though there was a slight tightening of his jaw that she didn’t miss.

"You did well, Alicent," he said quietly, though there was no mistaking the hint of urgency in his voice. "But you must be persistent. The ladies are vying for his attention, and you cannot afford to be outdone."

Alicent nodded, though her heart felt heavy. She knew what was at stake, but the interaction had left her feeling uncertain. Still, she resolved to continue as her father instructed—this was too important to let doubt get in the way.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had returned to her seat at the high table, watching as you danced with the other ladies. She couldn’t help but feel a small pang of possessiveness, though she knew it was part of your duty as the prince. Still, seeing you give your attention to so many others, even if it was only for a dance, made her all the more determined to hold on to the bond you shared.

As the night wore on, the music and dancing continued, the Great Hall filled with the joyous energy of the feast.

And as you moved through the dances, your thoughts never strayed far from those you held dear—your father, your sister, and the duty that would one day fall upon your shoulders. But for now, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, the warmth of the evening, and the knowledge that you were home.

The halls of the Red Keep were quiet as the night deepened, the once lively echoes of the feast now replaced by a serene stillness. The grandeur of the evening had finally come to an end, and you found yourself at last retreating to your chambers, eager for a moment of solitude after the endless social engagements and responsibilities of the day.

As soon as the heavy wooden door to your chambers closed behind you, a sigh escaped your lips, the tension that had built up throughout the evening releasing in that single breath. The weight of the evening—the formalities, the expectations, the constant eyes upon you—felt heavy on your shoulders, and you rolled them back, trying to ease the stiffness that had settled there.

You loosened the collar of your doublet, the intricate embroidery and decorative fastenings that had seemed so necessary in the public eye now feeling suffocating. With deliberate movements, you began to remove the unnecessary pieces—brooches, chains, the heavy belt that had held Blackfyre at your side. Each item dropped onto the nearby table with a soft clink, the sound oddly satisfying as it signaled a return to yourself, to the man beneath the prince’s trappings.

You moved to the small table near the hearth and poured yourself a goblet of wine, the rich red liquid swirling as you filled the cup. Sitting down heavily in the chair beside it, you took a deep sip, savoring the warmth that spread through your chest. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its light casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The room was a refuge from the demands of the court, but even here, the thoughts of the day lingered in your mind.

Your gaze drifted to Blackfyre, the legendary sword of House Targaryen, which you had placed carefully on the table. The blade seemed to gleam in the firelight, a symbol of the legacy you bore, the expectations that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. You had wielded it with pride and skill on the battlefield, but here, in the heart of King’s Landing, it served as a reminder of the heavy burden you carried—your father’s hopes and dreams, and the responsibility of living up to them.

The goblet in your hand felt heavier with each passing moment as you stared at the sword. Leading men into battle had been straightforward—challenging, yes, but with a clear purpose, a defined enemy. But here, in the court, the lines were blurred, the enemies often hidden behind smiles and silk. It was a different kind of battle, one that required a different set of skills, and one that left you feeling more drained than any clash of swords.

Just as you were lost in these thoughts, a soft knock sounded at the door, pulling you from your reverie. You straightened slightly, setting the goblet down as Ser Harrold Westerling’s voice called through the door.

"Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra wishes to see you."

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, and replied, "Let her in."

The door opened to reveal Rhaenyra, her expression soft and caring as she stepped into the room. She closed the door behind her, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of you. The tension in your posture, the messiness of your attire—things that would have been socially unacceptable in the public eye—were evident to her, but here, in the privacy of your chambers, they were merely signs of your humanity.

"Brother," she said softly, moving to the table where the wine was still waiting. She poured herself a goblet, mirroring your earlier actions, before sitting across from you. She studied you for a moment, her gaze gentle. "You look troubled… and tired."

You met her gaze, a small, weary smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I am tired, Rhaenyra," you admitted, your voice tinged with the exhaustion you felt. "It’s strange, isn’t it? I find it easier to lead men into battle than to sit at court again."

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened with understanding. She had always known the pressures you faced, even if she couldn’t fully share them. "You’ve always managed to do both with such ease, though," she said, her tone both admiring and slightly teasing. "I’ll admit, I envy you for it."

You chuckled, the sound more genuine than you’d felt all evening. "Envy me, do you? I suppose I should take that as a compliment." There was a lightness in your tone, a desire to shake off the weight of your earlier thoughts, at least for a moment.

Rhaenyra’s lips curved into a smile, her own mood lifting at your response. "You should," she replied playfully, raising her goblet in a mock toast. "But only a little."

The two of you shared a laugh, the sound filling the room and banishing some of the lingering shadows. It felt good to laugh, to let go of the tensions that had knotted themselves around you throughout the day. With Rhaenyra, there was no need for pretense, no need to be the perfect prince. She knew you—truly knew you—and that was a comfort you cherished.

Rhaenyra took a sip of her wine, her gaze drifting to the goblet in your hand. "You should ease up on that, you know," she remarked with a hint of amusement. "I don’t want you to be late tomorrow for our flight. Syrax will be most disappointed if Silverwing doesn’t show."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of flying with Rhaenyra again. "I wouldn’t dream of it," you assured her, setting the goblet down on the table with a playful sigh of resignation. "Besides, I don’t think I could face Syrax’s disappointment—or yours."

Rhaenyra’s smile softened, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual. There was something in her eyes, a mixture of affection and something else, something unspoken that lingered just beneath the surface. But before you could dwell on it, she looked away, taking another sip of her wine as if to mask the brief flicker of vulnerability.

The moment passed, and you leaned back in your chair, feeling more at ease than you had all evening. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the two of you as you continued to talk, the conversation shifting to lighter topics, memories of childhood, and shared dreams of the future.

For a time, the world outside the chamber doors faded away, leaving only the comfort of each other’s company. The burdens of the day, the expectations of the court, the weight of the crown—all of it seemed distant, insignificant compared to moments like this with Rhaenyra.

And as the night wore on, the wine in your goblet forgotten, you found yourself looking forward to the dawn, to the flight that awaited you and Rhaenyra, a reminder that even in the midst of duty and responsibility, there was still room for joy, for the freedom of the skies, and for the love of family.

The morning sun bathed King’s Landing in a warm, golden light as the city came to life with the sounds of merchants setting up their stalls, the chatter of citizens going about their daily routines, and the distant, excited murmurs of those who had caught sight of the royal procession making its way through the streets. From the windows of the small council chambers in the Red Keep, King Viserys I Targaryen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching as his children were escorted from the courtyard toward the Dragonpit.

Below, you and Rhaenyra rode side by side, your silver-blond hair gleaming in the sunlight, both of you resplendent in your riding attire. The people of the city lined the streets, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of their prince and princess. The sight of the two of you together, united and strong, brought a sense of pride to those who looked upon you. Dragons were a rare sight in the skies above King’s Landing these days, and the promise of seeing two Targaryens take flight was enough to stir excitement in even the most jaded of onlookers.

Viserys smiled faintly, his heart swelling with pride as he watched you and Rhaenyra. The relationship between his children was clear, and it was a source of comfort to him, knowing that you had each other. The realm was a complex and often dangerous place, filled with intrigue and ambition, but seeing you together, strong and united, reassured him that House Targaryen was still a force to be reckoned with.

But even as he watched you ride toward the Dragonpit, his thoughts were troubled. He knew the responsibilities that lay before you, the expectations that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. And though you had proven yourself time and again, both on the battlefield and in court, he worried about the weight of those expectations, and how they might shape your future.

A soft clearing of the throat behind him pulled Viserys from his thoughts. He turned to see the members of his small council seated around the table, their expressions varying from patient to expectant. Lord Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, was seated closest to Viserys’s chair, his sharp eyes never missing a detail. Next to him was Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Master of Ships, and across the table, Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws, along with other advisors and councilors.

Viserys sighed inwardly, knowing what was to come. The council had been growing increasingly insistent on matters of marriage and alliances, and he knew today would be no different. Reluctantly, he moved away from the window and took his seat at the head of the table, steeling himself for the discussion ahead.

Otto Hightower was the first to speak, his tone respectful but firm. "Your Grace, while the realm celebrates the return of your son, and we all take joy in the sight of the prince and princess together, there are pressing matters that require your attention."

Viserys nodded, though his thoughts were still partly on the sight of you and Rhaenyra riding through the city. "I understand, Otto. What is it you wish to discuss?"

Otto exchanged a brief glance with the other councilors before continuing. "Your Grace, it has been five years since the passing of Queen Aemma, may she rest in peace. The realm mourned her loss, but as you know, the stability of the crown relies heavily on the strength of its alliances. There are those who believe it would be advantageous for you to consider a second marriage."

Viserys’s expression tightened, the thought of remarrying bringing an ache to his chest. Aemma had been the love of his life, and though he knew the arguments for a second marriage, the idea of taking another wife felt like a betrayal of her memory. "I have not given much thought to that, Otto," Viserys replied, his tone measured. "Aemma’s death is still fresh in my mind."

Lord Corlys leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but insistent. "Your Grace, the realm must be considered. A marriage alliance could strengthen our position, both here and across the Narrow Sea. There are many noble houses who would see a marriage to the crown as a great honor."

Viserys sighed softly, feeling the weight of their words. "And what of my children?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over the council. "Are they also to be offered up in marriage to secure alliances?"

Otto inclined his head, his expression thoughtful. "Your Grace, the prince and princess are of age, and it would be prudent to consider their futures as well. The realm expects it, and it could bring great stability. Have you given thought to any potential matches for Prince Y/N?"

Viserys’s thoughts drifted to you, the son who had just returned to him after years of service on the Dornish border. He knew that you had your own burdens, your own sense of duty, and the thought of placing yet another expectation on your shoulders was not one he relished. "He has only just returned," Viserys said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I do not wish to burden him with talks of marriage so soon. He deserves some peace after all he has done for the realm."

Lord Lyonel Strong spoke up, his tone careful. "Of course, Your Grace, but the future of the realm is always in need of careful planning. If not now, then soon, these discussions must take place. The prince has proven himself, and there are many who would wish to see him secure the line of succession."

Viserys leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he felt the pressure of the conversation bearing down on him. The future of the realm, the line of succession, the alliances needed to maintain stability—these were all necessary concerns, but at this moment, all he wanted was to enjoy having his children by his side, whole and safe.

Otto watched Viserys closely, sensing his hesitation. "Your Grace," he said gently, "I understand this is difficult, but the realm looks to you for guidance. A second marriage for yourself, and well-considered matches for your children, could bring great strength to the crown. We are here to support you in making the best decisions for the future of House Targaryen."

Viserys exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting back toward the window, though the view of you and Rhaenyra had long since passed. "I know you are right, Otto," he said finally, his voice quieter. "But these are not decisions to be made lightly. I will consider your counsel, but for now, I wish to think on it further."

Otto nodded, recognizing that this was as much as he would get from the king today. "Of course, Your Grace. We are at your service whenever you are ready to discuss these matters further."

Viserys nodded in acknowledgment, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere, his mind lingering on the sight of you and Rhaenyra, and the memories of the family he had lost. The burden of the crown was heavy, but in that moment, all he wanted was to hold on to the peace and joy of having his family together, if only for a little while longer.

The council continued to discuss other matters—trade routes, border disputes, the ever-present issue of the Stepstones—but Viserys’s mind remained partially distant, caught between the responsibilities of the king and the desires of a father who simply wanted to see his children happy.

As the meeting wore on, the weight of their expectations pressed down on him, but Viserys knew that soon enough, he would have to face the decisions that lay ahead—decisions that would shape not just the future of the realm, but the future of his family as well. For now, however, he would hold on to the image of you and Rhaenyra, united and strong, and take comfort in the knowledge that, at least for today, the Targaryen legacy was secure.

The great structure of the Dragonpit loomed before you and Rhaenyra as you arrived, the massive dome a testament to the power and majesty of House Targaryen. The air was filled with excitement, the distant sounds of the city fading away as your focus narrowed to the task at hand—the exhilarating, unmatched thrill of flying with your sister once more.

The Dragonkeepers, their faces solemn and respectful, approached with measured steps, leading the two magnificent beasts that were the pride of your family. Silverwing, your bondmate and constant companion in battle, shimmered in the morning light, her silver scales catching the sun and gleaming like polished steel. She walked with a powerful grace, her tail sweeping the ground, her golden eyes fixed on you with a deep, knowing intelligence.

Beside her, Syrax moved with equal elegance, her golden scales reflecting the sunlight with a brilliance that was almost blinding. The dragon’s eyes, a molten amber, were locked on Rhaenyra, her bond with the princess evident in the way she seemed to respond to her presence, her great wings flexing with barely contained energy.

Rhaenyra turned to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without warning, she playfully shoved you, catching you off guard for a brief moment. "Let’s see if you’re still as fast as you were before you left," she challenged, her voice light with laughter. "First to mount their dragon wins!"

The challenge was made, and with a grin, you quickly regained your balance, your competitive spirit flaring to life. "You’re on," you replied, already moving toward Silverwing with purpose.

Rhaenyra dashed toward Syrax, her laughter ringing out in the open space of the Dragonpit. You matched her pace, the years of camaraderie and friendly rivalry between you fueling your determination. The Dragonkeepers stepped back respectfully, giving you both the space you needed as you raced to your dragons.

Despite Rhaenyra’s head start, you pushed yourself to catch up, your heart pounding with excitement. The familiar sight of Silverwing waiting for you, her eyes fixed on you with unwavering loyalty, spurred you on. With a final burst of speed, you reached her side, your hands gripping the warm, smooth scales of her neck as you hoisted yourself up onto her back.

You secured yourself in the saddle with practiced ease, your hands moving quickly but confidently as you tightened the straps and adjusted the reins. Silverwing rumbled beneath you, her excitement palpable as she sensed the impending flight. You glanced over at Rhaenyra, who was just finishing securing herself atop Syrax, her expression a mixture of concentration and exhilaration.

"Too slow, sister!" you called out teasingly, giving Silverwing an affectionate pat on her neck. "But you can still try to catch up."

Rhaenyra shot you a playful glare, her eyes sparkling with determination. "We’ll see who’s too slow once we’re in the air!" she retorted, giving Syrax a gentle nudge with her heels.

With a powerful beat of her wings, Syrax launched herself into the sky, the force of her takeoff sending a rush of wind through the Dragonpit. Not one to be outdone, you urged Silverwing forward with a command that was more thought than spoken, the bond between you and your dragon allowing for seamless communication.

Silverwing responded instantly, her massive wings unfurling with a whoosh of air as she lifted off the ground. The powerful muscles in her legs propelled her upward, and within moments, you were soaring high above the Dragonpit, the city of King’s Landing sprawling out beneath you like a tapestry of red roofs and winding streets.

The thrill of flight, the sensation of the wind rushing past your face, filled you with a sense of freedom that was unparalleled. The ground fell away beneath you as Silverwing climbed higher, her wings slicing through the air with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion. You glanced to your right and saw Rhaenyra flying alongside you, Syrax keeping pace with Silverwing as the two dragons cut through the sky with the ease of creatures born to it.

Rhaenyra turned to you, her expression one of pure joy, her laughter carried away by the wind. "To Dragonstone and back!" she shouted, her voice carrying above the roar of the wind. "Let’s see if you can keep up, brother!"

You grinned, the challenge igniting your competitive spirit once more. "You’re on!" you called back, leaning forward slightly in the saddle to give Silverwing her head.

The two of you streaked across the sky, your dragons racing side by side, their wings creating powerful gusts that rippled through the clouds. The familiar silhouette of Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen, loomed in the distance, its jagged peaks rising like the spine of a great beast from the churning waters of Blackwater Bay.

The race was on in earnest now, both of you pushing your dragons to their limits, urging them faster and faster as the landscape below became a blur of green and blue. Silverwing responded to your every command with a fierce determination, her powerful wings propelling you forward at a breathtaking speed.

You stole a glance at Rhaenyra, who was fully focused on the path ahead, her hair whipping wildly in the wind as she urged Syrax on. The bond between you and your sister was clear in these moments—both of you pushing each other, challenging each other, but always with a shared sense of joy and freedom.

As Dragonstone drew nearer, you could feel the anticipation building within you. The jagged cliffs of the island came into sharp relief as you approached, the ancient castle perched atop the volcanic rock like a sentinel watching over the narrow sea. You and Rhaenyra were neck and neck, neither of you willing to give an inch as your dragons roared through the skies.

At the last moment, just as you neared the cliffs of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra pulled ahead, Syrax diving toward the island with a speed that surprised even you. With a whoop of victory, she soared over the castle before banking hard to the left, turning back toward King’s Landing.

"Not bad, sister!" you shouted, laughing as you urged Silverwing to follow. "But it’s not over yet!"

The return journey was just as exhilarating, the two of you racing through the sky with the same fierce determination. The landscape blurred beneath you, the distance between Dragonstone and King’s Landing seeming to shrink as your dragons raced each other, the wind whistling past your ears and the roar of their wings filling the air.

As the Red Keep came into view, the spires of the castle rising above the city, you and Rhaenyra were still neck and neck. The final stretch was upon you, and neither of you were willing to let the other claim victory without a fight.

In the end, it was Rhaenyra who crossed the invisible finish line first, Syrax’s speed proving just enough to edge out Silverwing. You pulled back on the reins, slowing your dragon’s descent as you circled the Dragonpit, both of you breathing hard but grinning widely.

Rhaenyra was already dismounting as you brought Silverwing in to land. She was flushed with excitement, her eyes shining as she looked up at you, still seated on your dragon. "Well, brother," she said breathlessly, "it seems you haven’t lost your touch after all."

You laughed, swinging down from Silverwing’s back and landing lightly beside her. "Nor have you," you replied, giving her a mock bow. "I concede defeat—for today."

Rhaenyra beamed, clearly pleased with her victory. "It was a close race, though," she admitted, her voice full of warmth. "Flying with you again… it’s like nothing has changed."

You nodded, feeling the same sense of contentment. "Nothing ever really does, Rhaenyra. Not when it comes to us."

The two of you shared a smile, the connection between you stronger than ever after the exhilaration of the flight. As the Dragonkeepers approached to tend to Silverwing and Syrax, you both knew that this was more than just a race—it was a reminder of who you were.

The two of you lingered at the Dragonpit longer than necessary, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through your veins. The sun had climbed higher, casting a warm rays over the ancient structure, and the dragons, having been tended to by the Dragonkeepers, were content to rest in their cavernous lairs. You and Rhaenyra began to make your way back toward the exit, but Rhaenyra, her spirits high from the race and the sheer joy of the flight, wasn’t quite ready to let the moment go.

"So," she began, her voice light with teasing, "I won, fair and square. And now you owe me, brother."

You smirked, knowing where this was headed. "Owe you? Is that so? And what exactly do I owe you, Rhaenyra? A rematch, perhaps?"

She laughed, that bright, carefree sound that you hadn’t heard in far too long. "A rematch? I’m not sure you’d want to lose again so soon," she teased, giving you a playful shove as she walked beside you.

You staggered slightly, more for show than from the actual force of her shove, and then, not to be outdone, you gave her a gentle nudge back. "Careful, or you might find yourself the one in need of a rematch," you teased in return.

Rhaenyra grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Is that a challenge, brother?"

"It might be," you replied, leaning into the game. The two of you continued to exchange playful shoves as you made your way down the path, the camaraderie between you as natural as breathing. There was something freeing about it, this moment where you could be yourselves, without the weight of titles and expectations.

But as Rhaenyra moved to push you once more, she misjudged her step, her foot catching on an uneven stone. With a surprised yelp, she stumbled backward, instinctively reaching out to grab hold of you. The force of her pull, combined with the momentum of your playful shoving, sent you both tumbling to the ground, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

You landed heavily on top of her, your arms instinctively bracing yourself so you wouldn’t crush her beneath your weight. The two of you laughed at the absurdity of it all, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls of the Dragonpit. But then, as the laughter began to die down, the reality of your position started to sink in.

You were close—closer than you had ever been before. The laughter faded into a charged silence, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you. Rhaenyra’s eyes, wide and suddenly serious, stared up at you, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. Your faces were mere inches apart, and you could feel the warmth of her body beneath yours, the softness of her skin where your hands had landed to catch yourself.

The playful energy that had filled the air only moments ago was gone, replaced by something heavier, more intense. You could feel your muscles tense, your heart pounding in your chest as you became acutely aware of every point of contact between you. There was a heat in the pit of your stomach, something unfamiliar yet undeniable, that made it difficult to think clearly.

Rhaenyra’s breath hitched slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to speak, but no words came. Her gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, the silent question hanging in the air between you. She could feel the warmth rising in her cheeks, in her chest, in places she would never admit out loud. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was overwhelming, and she could see in your eyes that you were feeling it too.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. Slowly, almost instinctively, your faces began to draw closer, the distance between your lips narrowing as if pulled together by some unseen force. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of her breath against your skin, the rapid beat of your heart in your chest, and the undeniable pull that drew you closer.

But just as your lips were about to meet, the moment was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps and a voice calling out from a distance.

"Your Grace! Princess Rhaenyra!" The voice of Ser Harrold Westerling, the ever-dutiful Kingsguard, cut through the charged silence like a blade. He had seen the two of you fall from afar and had rushed over, concern etched on his face. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

The spell was broken. Reality crashed back in with a jarring force as you quickly pushed yourself up, your heart still racing, though now for an entirely different reason. You reached down to help Rhaenyra to her feet, your touch gentle but your movements hurried, as if to dispel any lingering trace of what had just passed between you.

"No, Ser Harrold," you said quickly, trying to steady your voice. "We’re fine. Just a bit of clumsiness, nothing more."

Rhaenyra, her cheeks still flushed and her gaze avoiding yours, nodded in agreement. "Yes, just a small mishap. Nothing to worry about."

Ser Harrold’s brow furrowed in concern, his eyes scanning the two of you for any sign of injury. "I’m glad to hear it, Your Graces. But perhaps it would be best if you returned to the Red Keep now. The court will be expecting you soon."

You nodded, grateful for the excuse to move on from the moment. "Of course, Ser Harrold. We’ll head back now."

With a final glance at you, Rhaenyra adjusted her clothing, trying to regain her composure as the two of you began to walk back toward the Red Keep, Ser Harrold following at a respectful distance. The playful ease that had filled the air earlier was gone, replaced by a charged silence, both of you acutely aware of how close you had come to crossing a line that neither of you fully understood.

As you walked side by side, the warmth of the sun on your backs, the tension between you lingered. The bond between you had always been strong, but now, there was something more—something neither of you had been prepared for, and something that neither of you knew how to address.

For now, you would leave it unspoken, burying the feelings that had surfaced in that brief moment of closeness. But the memory of it, the almost-kiss, would linger in both your minds, a question left unanswered, a path left unexplored.

And as the Red Keep came into view, you couldn’t help but wonder if that moment had changed things between you, in ways neither of you were ready to admit.

#house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x male reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x male reader #rhaenyra targaryen

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deceitfuldevout · 8 months

Text

Country Club Films

Dark!Camstar!Rafe Cameron x Reader x Dark!Pimp!Barry

Word Count: +7,293

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Nsfw gifs, Misogynist/sexist remarks, Manhandling, Loss of virginity, Human trafficking, Dark web, Mentions of cheating/infidelity. Non consensual stepcest, Force drug usage, Rafe is a huge slut and Barry is a sick freak, Blackmail, Mind break, Manhandling.

Author's Note(s): This is going to be a one-shot. Don't ask for a part 2 if you're not going to like/comment/reblog. I'm trying to catchup with real life and it's kicking my ass. Give a bitch a break ffs.

Offline Rafe is known as the long-reigning Kook king. But online he's known as one of the biggest camstars on the East Coast. When Barry, his former pimp, offers him a one-last film offer, well he just couldn't refuse. After all, it was just this once, right? Rafe began his career as a prostitute at a young age. It started off as something he did for fun, but when his dad cut him off that’s when he began working for a streaming service. He needed that quick cashflow if he'd going to survive in the Outer Banks.

At first, it started off as a hobby. Rafe was into voyeurism, he found that out at a young age. To dominate someone while everyone else knew. In the beginning of Rafe's livestreaming career, he started off as a solo act. He loved messaging complete strangers online, he especially loved the look on these women's face when he pulls his cock out. How their expression would change, the sudden stuttering at the sight of it. He loves when their eyes would rake up and down his girth, knowing full well they were admiring the sight of it. He'd jerk himself off in front of the camera, rubbing at his thighs while taunting his viewers. Rafe would edge himself off for each tip.

Rafe knows he's well endowed. Him having a pretty face and nice body was the cherry on top. He made himself comfortable with this newfound stardom. Becoming a sex worker was the last thing on Rafe's mind. In a span of a few months, Rafe was one of the biggest online stars. The best part is, no one else knew who he was. He found a luxury apartment by the beachside to live in, that's where he did most of his work. He even invited some of his clients for a solo video.

It was more of a hobby for him, he would secretly record these women and keep it in his inventory. As long as he was getting paid and looked good doing so, he could care less what the other women looked like. To him it was strictly business. Old, young, single or taken, it didn't matter. For him it was a side hustle to get back on his feet. Hell, some of them were his dad's former clients. Rafe earned enough to get him a luxury apartment by the beach with the well-earned income and cushiony life.

If she had a pretty face, then he'd do it in missionary. If not? He'd fuck her doggy-style. He had fucked up one day after failing to pay Barry back. He may have underestimated the Pogue drug dealer when thinking he could get away with not paying him full price. When returning to his home he noticed a window had been broken, the T.V. had been running. When Barry breaks into Rafe's apartment in search of his money owed, the last thing he expects is a built-in porn set. There Rafe found him, currently watching his last performance on his brand new T.V.

It was as if the Pogue knew he was there, "Country Club...where's my credit for giving you that name," he stands up from the recliner. His expression wasn't mad, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It started off with Barry suggesting that he'd pay him back. Whether Rafe was willing to or not. He doesn't have a choice. Barry knew of his dirty little secret. He has enough evidence to ruin the Kook's polished image. So, for the past few months Barry has been his personal pimp. It became a regular routine.

Barry would schedule the meetings with clients to make it easier. A quick suck and fuck to cover rent. Rafe worked hard to get to where he was. This isn't a side hustle. It took skill to get to where he is. Rafe is one of the highest ranking members for a reason. The once proud Kook-king was owned by some Pogue. For the longest time Barry had almost total control over his business. Rafe had to work hard for the past few months in order to gain control again. Even after gaining access to his social media, it was Barry who called the shots.

Rafe would be notified by Barry of a latest client, they would meet up at the country club, where Rafe did most of his dirty work. That, and a motel nearby. For Rafe, the country club was a hunting ground. He'd often go for married older women with neglectful husbands. He would be the face of their business, but Barry would be the backup in case things got ugly (or if an unsuspecting husband were to walk in). Rafe's steaming channel became popular as well. His online alias? Country club. Like the place he'd pickup his clients.

It was the first time Rafe had been this confident in himself. He had finally earned enough to make a living and have liquid income pouring in. He would never have to worry about money again. But it wasn't enough for Barry. He wanted power, control and fear. So, what better way than to start blackmailing their clients? They had the wealthiest women in the palm of their hands. For them, paying off a blackmail would be cheaper than a divorce. Rafe knows he could get away with it too. He knew exactly what these prim and proper women wanted: A good and hard fucking. They wanted to be dominated, controlled and degraded to their heart's contempt.

It was surprising how many women of high society were into the downright nastiest things. Rafe can give them all that and more. Rafe would choke them, slap them around a few times, sometimes even reducing these women into tears. Yet they always came back soaking wet. Their husbands weren't enough. They needed a good fuck to escape the pressures of being a Kook. Call it an act of community service if you will. After getting into a brawl with a married woman's husband, Rafe decides that he doesn't want to take in clients anymore. Barry convinces him of a newer strategy: Live streaming for bids. Soon he was making an easy six figures. Rafe considers himself to be an expensive experience.

Now that he had a stable income with his streaming service, he can work from home. Usually for commissions or requests by his clients. So far Rafe had been enjoying his life after retirement. At that point Rafe didn't care what anyone would say. After spending some time in the industry, he had gained a new sense of confidence. Immunity, if you will. For his entire life, Rafe had gotten away with just about anything. He knows he's making almost as much as his father now. On a good day, even more. Barry was on his payroll and kept quiet about it.

There's only one thing Rafe missed about working in the industry: The rush. Rafe was going to miss the thrill of doing whatever he wants to a complete stranger. It made him rock hard just thinking about it. He could do whatever he wanted and they would beg for it. These women would beg for him to ruin them. The best part was, they would always come back for more. More, more, more. Rafe went as far as to sneak into the houses of married women while their husbands were away. He had earned a black eye and fractured rib after being caught. He thankful for not having to worry about that ever again.

Yet still, there's a part of him that yearns for that adrenaline, if only he could balance it with his regular life. Rafe wanted to spend time with his family more than anything. He knows that Ward had been giving him shit for missing his sister's recitals. He'll try to make up for that.

He'd just got off the phone with his sister, promising to show up at her next show. Barry had been messaging his phone nonstop. Rafe groans, what was it this time? Rafe decides to call him, "What's up?" a short and simple statement. Barry sounded a bit muffled on the other side, "I'm coming over, tomorrow, and I've got a deal you won't regret," he sounds confident. Rafe was curious by the humor in Barry's tone, "What is it?" now wondering what had made the dealer so excited.

Barry promised Rafe that he wouldn't bring up films as long as he was getting paid, but this? This was different, "We're about to become millionaires, Country Club," with that he hung up. Rafe groans, rubbing the back of his neck. He was enjoying his retirement while it lasted. Like his father, he would take any opportunity given to him. A chance at receiving a million dollars? Shit, maybe one last time wouldn't hurt. Rafe might just be looking forward to fucking whatever old crone paid for his time.

Rafe had emptied his schedule just to meet up with the Pogue. He set up studio, making a simple bed on the floor nice and pretty. He even added a few pillows for comfort. He then waits for Barry to arrive, to kill the time Rafe would snort a few rounds. He already indulged in his expensive collection of alcohol until his throat went hoarse. Rafe wanted to be as intoxicated as he could possibly be if he wanted to make it bearable.

A buzzing noise from his alert system indicated that Barry was already in the lobby. Rafe had let him pass through. It had taken the dealer a while to get upstairs. In the meantime, Rafe had popped a special pill to keep the party going. There's a loud slam on his door. Rafe opens it to find Barry hauling a large suitcase. He'd a little sweaty from the travel. It wasn't easy sneaking onto Kook territory. Especially if you were as notorious as him.

He watches as his partner hauls the luggage inside, cursing as he finally tosses it onto the living room floor. Rafe looks out to see if there are any onlookers before shutting the door closed. He locks it before walking towards it, "What is that?" to which his friend ignores. Barry hurries to where the camera had been set. As soon as he realizes it was ready, he goes for Rafe's laptop, logging in to prepare for a livestream. Barry is quick with his moves, wasting no time. He kicks off a few prop pillows until the mattress is bare. This confused Rafe as he was told he'd be using props for the video.

Barry orders Rafe to help with setting up the room, "Get this shit off,"

"What?"

"We can't let them know where we are, gotta make this place a little shitty," Barry informed Rafe that the client had a taboo fetish for non-consensual roleplay. He wants this place to resemble an abandoned building. So, both of the men put in the effort to make it look just like that. Rafe places an old worn-out mattress in the center of his room. Anything personal was discarded of.

By the time they were done the room it resembled a scene from a torture porn film. Rafe suddenly jolts to the sound of loud rustling coming from the luggage. Apparently, Barry wasn't specific to what kind of prop would be used either. Rafe turns to it, "What the fuck is in there...?" his voice is in all seriousness, "What the fuck is happening?" his attention is fully on the noise coming from the container.

Barry hurries to the case, his hands are quick to open it, "Our client wants us to use prop," that's when Barry reveals a woman who had been kept inside. He hauls her by the underarms and pulls her out the case. Rafe stares at the woman then back at Barry. He tries to read his face, nothing. In fact, Barry seemed like the only one that was perfectly calm about all this. He effortlessly lifts the woman out of the case, dragging her to the bare mattress. He ignores her muffled crying and returns to the camera. Barry wants the angle to be just right.

Rafe couldn't believe what was happening. He can't keep his eyes off the woman. Her hands and legs had been bound by duct tape. Her face covered with a satchel. She had been wearing a leotard--but it was the ballet shoes that had him in the chokehold. Rafe had a thing for cute, delicate things. A strange fascination of his were Ballerinas. As soon as he spotted those shoes his brain started to malfunction. It gave a sense of femininity that he wanted to protect. It reminded him of a special someone from home.

Barry informs Rafe that the clientele was a very important person on the Island. Their decision to start streaming, was Barry's idea. He made sure to turn on the bidding option to collect some extra cash. It was two birds with one stone. Barry shakes her by the shoulder a few times to give a good scare. He does it just show just how much stronger he was. Barry nods to his accomplice, ushering him to come over. Rafe is hesitant when approaching the two. Barry finally shoves her back down with a 'thud'. Rafe isn't bothered one bit by that.

Was it so wrong that Rafe had been emotionally numb to all of this? Maybe it was the dope or maybe a part of him really didn't care. Either way this would be the last time he would ever need to make another film again. The Kook sighs, "Let's make this quick, I have to get to my sister's recital," he begins to strip himself of all clothing.

"Sarah?" Barry questions,

"No, the other one,"

Barry smirks, "Almost forgot about that one,"

Rafe strips himself of all clothing before approaching the mattress. He circles around her, like a predator stalking its prey. He eyes her like a hawk, yet there isn't a single thought behind those blues. Barry is in charge of the camera work. He made sure hold it steady as Rafe got to work. This had been more than what Rafe was used to taking. He was more buzzed than usual, and he knew it. But did he really care? He felt good, and that's all that matters. Fuck, Barry was getting hard at the thought of it.

He's always had a thing for her, but the bitch thought she was too good for him. One thing he couldn't stand being was a stuck-up Kook bitch. Barry grits his teeth at the memory of her laughing at him. Now he was her only saving grace, “Her family, they're looking for her, and get this: Her daddy is a big-time figure on the Island, the dude is loaded,” he starts feeding Rafe bit by bit of a fantasy, leaving out the most important details.

Barry mentions one last thing: "The client wants you to break her in," he's dead serious too. For a moment Rafe pauses, "You serious?" His brows furrow, "She's never had dick?" He couldn't believe it. Rafe groans at the thought of it. She was a good girl who had gotten into some trouble, and now these bad men were going to ruin her. Rafe could practically feel how heavy his balls were. Fuck, he's never wanted pussy this bad before. There's something about an unused cunt that just gives a man an ego boost. If it's a show the client wants, it's a show he'll get.

Rafe pins her down with his body weight, he chokes her out, admiring the way she would try to fend him off. It was adorable, she really thought she had a chance. He taunts her pathetic attempts, "C'mon...try harder...let's see if you have a chance..." at this point he really was playing with his food, "See? You can't, because I'm stronger than you, I can do whatever the fuck I want," he rips the thin fabric off for a dramatic effect, "Your daddy's not here to save you," knowing that would only make her cry harder. Apparently, her stepfather was a very important businessman. One of the wealthiest in the entire Outer Banks. One who just so happened to have a very pretty stepdaughter. Rafe questions why the old man hasn't fucked her yet. He knows that if it were him, he already would've.

Rafe grinds his hips against her clothed sex. He groans, "How about I be your daddy? Huh?" he taunts, "Say it, say it slut," he grips around her neck again. He could barely hear the gurgled cry that came from underneath. Rafe didn't want to calm her down. It would be more entertaining for the audience if there was a performance. It was the thrill of the chase that excites him the most. Rafe wants her to be sobbing by the time he's done with her. He tears at her top, groping at the exposed flesh. He relishes in the feeling of soft skin. It'd been a while since he's hooked up with anyone. During the past few months, Rafe had only produced solo films. For once, he prefers a tight cunt over his hand.

Barry reassures him that there wouldn't be a thing to worry about, "Just go with the flow," he had already set up the starting prices. As the livestream started his fans began to swarm on. Rafe had been impressed by the number of viewers, had they really missed him that much? He held her against his bare chest. Rafe gropes at her bare chest while reading the comments. He rests his chin on your shoulder blade, taking his sweet time reading each comment. He plays along, “What do you say guys should we fuck her cunt or ass first?” A string of pings goes off from the laptop as it’s being broadcasted. Complete strangers were rooting for him to ruin her.

He chuckles after reading the comment, "C'mon guys vote in the poll ass or cunt first," as if she were a piece of meat. A sinister smile is plastered on his face. He held her by the neck, tilting his face towards her ear, "You're not a person, you hear me?" his fingers add more pressure, "From now on you're mine," his other hand caresses her mound. His digits tease at her clothed core, "This cunt? Mine," another 'ping' came from his laptop. He looks right at the camera, "How much can we get for her cunt? Do I hear $100?"

Rafe enjoyed playing with his prey. He loved to hear their whimpers for mercy. Barry reads a few requests, "The fans want you to slap her," of course, Rafe couldn't let his fans down. He shoves her down. He swats at her rear, admiring the way it ripples with each crack. His hand lands on it again and again, until she was writhing in pain. He then pulls at the remaining fabric. Now exposing her to millions of viewers. Rafe wasn't the least bit shy. He'd gotten comfortable with showing off his body to the world.

He motions for his partner to get closer with the camera. Barry approaches, unbuckling his belt to release his half-hard cock. He pumps it a few until it gets hard enough to stand. His cock now pressed against his abs, already leaking with precum. Rafe wanted full access to her, in order to do so he'll need a little help, "Hold her down, need some room," he held the camera so that Barry could cut some tape off. As soon as her hands were freed, she began smacking around. Both men laugh at the woman's feeble attempts. As if she could actually hurt them.

Rafe is having way too much fun with the struggle. Barry pins her hands under his knees, hard enough so that it would hurt. He hands over the knife to Rafe. He glides it along her thighs as a warning. In a few seconds her legs were freed, but only for a moment. Rafe got to work parting both of her legs. He uses his bodyweight to pin both of her legs down. His fingers already gliding up and down her slit. He presses his finger pads right on her core, rubbing it vigorously. Poor thing hadn't a clue who this stranger was playing with her cunt. He could be anyone, that's the part he loved the most.

Rafe loves getting his clients all worked up, sometimes to the point of tears. Until they're practically begging for him to ruin them. He knows his audience wouldn't say a thing if they thought it was roleplay. Most of his popular videos were darker fantasies. He's had his fair share of fucked up roleplays. His fans wouldn't so much as bat an eye if he were to smack her around. Rafe toys with the woman's exposed slit as Barry pointed the camera at them. Rafe spat at her mound, coating it with his saliva before teasing it again. Barry held her down while Rafe got to work on making her fall apart. He can't take his eyes off of such a pretty slit. Rafe's cock twitches at the sight of her slickened slit. He was transfixed by the sight of her tight cunt puckering at him. As if it were begging to be ruined.

Rafe doesn't waste any time diving him tongue first. He wraps his lips around the entrance, suckling at it like a starved man. Rafe starts with slow, strong licks. He made sure to look at the camera to capture a POV for the audience, before flattening his tongue against her mound. He presses the muscle along her slit, dragging it up and down. Rafe parts for a moment to spit a wad before lapping against her sex. He suckles along the sides, making sure to get her all hot and bothered. If there's something he's good at, it's eating pussy.

For dramatic effect, Rafe rubs his head from side to side, humming so that she could feel just how deep his tongue was inside her. Rafe retrieves for a moment, but only to tease the audience, "Bitches love when you bite it," Rafe jokes. He's had quite the experience as a giver. He knows just the right amount of pressure to bring a woman to climax. His teeth tease at her sensitive pearl. Her thighs quake from the pressure. Barry dares his friend to continue the torment, "Give it a pull, she can take it," and so he does. His thick fingers tug at her poor clit. A frantic cry is all he needed to hear before pressing the first digit inside. Shit, she was tight.

When he tries so curl his finger a howl of pain escapes. A swift kick lands right on his nose, landing with a loud 'crack' sound. Barry couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. Rafe backs away, retreating to inspect the damage done. That's when Barry mentions something he should've done earlier, "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, this one is still intact," he forces her legs apart, parting her folds to reveal what Rafe hadn't bothered spotting. Before Rafe could pounce on her, Barry pulls her up against him. He tries balancing the camera but eventually lets it rest on a chair nearby. That way he could have more control over her.

He grips the back of her knees, exposing her full to a very pissed off Rafe. He knows that the Kook always held a grudge. Once his mind is set, there's no stopping him. Barry decides to twist the knife, “They want you to break her in,” he lets her go, raising his hands in the air so that Rafe is free to perform. He pulls her in by the ankles, dragging her across the mattress. He flips her over, pulling his belt from his waist before swatting it at her a few times. He ignores her crying, only using more force when she tries to run away. He doesn't stop, not until she's screaming at the top of her lungs. But it's not enough for Rafe's bruised ego. She embarrassed him in front of his fanbase. He needs to make sure that never happens again.

Rafe presses his fat tip along her folds. He collects whatever slick is there, still glaring at the masked woman as if she were the scum on earth, "God I can't wait to rape this bitch," he uses his entire body weight to thrust forward. A howl of agony is heard underneath the mask as it starts to soak with tears. Rafe's nails dig into her hips, hard enough to break skin. He pounds deep into her tight cunt. Rafe groans, "Shit...that's some good fucking pussy," as he fucks her into the mattress. Rafe had trouble making her stay still. He keeps having to pull her back in. Barry, being the friend that he is decides to help Rafe out. His shoe lands on her back, pinning her to the mattress below. He held it right against the back of her neck, mushing it down every time she squirms.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin has Barry hard as a rock “Shit country club…I can hear you in her guts,” if that didn’t give Rafe the biggest ego boost he needed to continue. Rafe huffs at Barry, “Oh yeah?” His voice sounding cockier from the statement. He wraps his strong arms around her waist before lifting her against his chest. Rafe fell back with a 'thud', revealing to the audience a full view of his cock burred balls-deep inside. Barry held the camera carefully, he hovers the device over the woman's slit, pointing it to where Rafe's cock sunk in. He captures Rafe's thick cock deep inside her weeping cunt. His balls slapping against her skin as he fucked her like a feral animal. He’s had a good fucking before but not like this. This time he has full free range to do whatever he wants.

Barry nears the two, he wants a closer look at his pretty little victim. He pulls and tugs at her tits until a muffled sob escapes. He then starts to smack them around, letting them bounce as Rafe abuses her cunt. Rafe moans at the sensation of her walls squeezing his cock with each slap. When Barry releases them, Rafe is quick to take over, his hands grip at them as hard as he can. He groans at the feeling of her cunt pumping him. Barry’s eyes rake over her naked body. He could see the indent of Rafe’s cock inside her cunt, palming at his own growing erection. He takes his sweet time examining their pretty little victim. Barry presses his hand against the indent of Rafe’s cock, “Oh fuck…can you feel that?” His palm presses harder until a squeal is heard from under the mask.

Barry chuckles, “Shit, Country Club is fucking your guts out,” a crude remark. Rafe couldn’t help but grin at that remark. He’s always been well endowed, but hearing that his cock’s imprint could be seen? It went straight to his head. Then an idea hits him. Barry spits a thick wad in his palm, his hand reaches in between her legs. He starts to massage her slit, his fingers tracing that sensitive button right above her stuffed cunt. As soon as her toes start to curl he stops, giving her a moment to prepare for an orgasm. Then he slaps her sensitive bundle of nerves as hard as he can. He watches as her mound bounces from the impact. A howl of agony pours out from under the satchel as she tries her best to close her legs.

Barry isn’t having it. He forces her legs open while Rafe fucks up and into her channel. Barry encourages him to keep going, “You gonna get her nice and pregnant huh Country Club?" he taunts, knowing damn well what he was doing. Rafe growls into her ear, letting him primal instincts take over, "'M’gonna fucking breed you, you hear me? This cunt is gonna give me a baby,” he juts his hips faster. Sweat collects on his forehead, “Gonna show you off to the whole town, let them know that it’s my baby in there…oh fuck!” His breathing became erratic as he began to pick up pace. Rafe growls as his cock sunk back into her warm channel. He squeezes her tits, "Can't wait for these to get full,"

Barry huffs, now jerking off to the sight of it, “You gonna make her a single mom, Country club?” Barry jerks his cock at the sight of it. He groans at the sight of her abused cunt filled with Rafe’s spunk. He lets out a faint sigh, “Damn country club, didn’t know you were this pent up,” to which Rafe nears her ear, "Imagine that, you getting knocked up by a complete stranger," he huffs, "Can you even hear me?" Rafe reaches for the cloth, but before he could remove it, Barry swats his hand away, "No, not until we're finished," that was part of the deal, "Her stepdad is an important Kook," never stating who he was. Rafe hums with delight. If only he could see the look on the stranger's face after finding out his stepdaughter had been absolutely ruined for any other man.

Rafe came, hard. He made sure to drain his balls deep inside her pussy. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder blade, ignoring the wail from underneath the satchel. Rafe let's out a deep, gutteral moan, finally coming down from his high. He throws her limp figure onto the mattress so that he could catch his breath. He reads the comments section of his stream. Each fan would send a bid higher than the previous one.

This was the most bank he's made in a while. He reads the requests, making sure to take a mental note. Rafe returns to her, lying limp on the mattress. Her abused cunt leaking thick wads of spunk. Rafe couldn't help it, he just loved to shove his fingers in there. He'd play with her pussy, despite her whines. Rafe loves inspecting it, like some sort of toy he could use and abuse.

He flips her over, rubbing at her slit again. He bites his bottom lip, "C'mon....give me another one..." his fingers began to pick up speed. He waited to see the signs. When her thighs would quake before crumbling apart. He knew exactly what he was doing, "Ohh did I hit that sweet spot princess?" he taunts, "If you didn't like that, then you're gonna hate this..." Rafe wasn't done with her punishment, he wasn't even close to finishing. Rafe made sure to duct tape a vibrator to her inner thigh.

He parts her folds, pressing the round tip of the toy against her bundle of nerves. He then held her thighs together, using fresh tape to keep them closed. With the vibrator now pressed snugly against her pussy. He leaves the living room to grab a drink, asking if Barry wanted anything in the fridge. But the Pogue would rather jerk off to the pretty Kook trying to fend off an orgasm. Rafe returns with a cold beer in hand, he hands it over to the Pogue as the two men clink their drinks, saluting a 'cheers' to the fans watching.

They could hear her sobbing as her hips swayed for release. Both men mock the sounds that came from their victim. Barry and Rafe mimic her voice. Rafe was actually laughing at what he’d done. There was a smug look on his face as he re-watched part of the video. He's visibly smiling in it. A part of him wonders why Barry hasn’t joined in. A chance to break a virgin in? He doesn't know a single man that wouldn't take the chance. Barry lets him know, "The clientele wanted to see the best of the best, Country Club," he shrugs it off. Rafe doesn't think twice about it. He's too high to use his brain right now.

Rafe returns to where they left her. He reaches in between her legs, his thick fingers part her folds, letting his cum leak out. He whistles, "Shit....I really did a number on you," he could tell she was close and decides to help the poor thing out. What Barry says next came off as a challenge, "Bet you she's a squirter," only one thing can determine that. Rafe nods to the camera, "Get closer," he wants the audience to get a better look at how a professional does it. Rafe's fingers digits start stretching her drenched cunt again. Soon, they rapidly pumping in and out of her core. Then a gush of arousal pours out. Barry whistles at the sight of it, cheering on his partner.

Rafe hums, "Such a pretty pussy...." he moans, swiping his thumb at it. He collects the juices from her leaking hole, "I don't think she's ever came this hard," bringing his now slick digits to his mouth to taste, "Hmm...so fucking sweet," he purses his lips, "Little coppery," he could taste the tinge of blood on his tongue. It excites him, "I've gotta fill you up baby...gonna make sure you're nice and full," he squeezes at her breasts, pulling and tugging at the sensitive skin, “These are gonna fill in too," he latches his lips to a free breast, suckling at it like a starving man.

Rafe pops his mouth off for a moment. He swats at her tits, gripping them as hard as he can. A yelp escapes her lips before she's crying again. Rafe coos, "Shhh...shh...you 'needa calm down baby," he talks to her as if she were a child. Then an idea hits him, "We needa put some in her," which confuses Barry for a moment, "Her what?"

"Put some in her pussy, then she'll calm down," Rafe couldn't tell if it was because of the adrenaline or drugs. He doesn't care though, he’s in pure bliss right now. He wants to keep chasing that feeling. An idea hits him. Rafe retrieves an LSD tab from his pant pocket. He looks up at the camera. He sticks out his to tongue for the viewers to see, placing the drug on it. He lets it dissolve a bit before delving it deep inside her. His lips wrap around her slit as he suckles at the nerves. He knew those sick fucks wanted to see something with absolute filth in it. Why not go all out?

Rafe watches as she slowly starts to go slack. Her limbs flail for a moment before finally going limp. Barry couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Rafe joins in, grinning from ear to ear at the now demobilized woman. Barry jokes, “She’s too doped up to know where the fuck she's at," causing Rafe to laugh ever harder. Both of them not realizing her feeble attempt to crawl away.

Rafe shakes Barry's shoulder, "Look at that..." he nears, crouching down at her, "So fucking cute..." for a moment he just watches her. Rafe tilts his head, "There's nowhere to run," he doesn't understand why she was still trying. He stands up, his leg pushes against her rib, shoving her to the floor. When she tries to pull herself back up again, he does the same thing only harder. Which brings him to the question: What would it take to really break her?

He flips her over, pressing his body against hers on the floor. She starts crying again when he sinks his cock in her. She's dizzy, scared and confused. Rafe is starting to get annoyed by the dramatics. He wraps both hands around her throat and gives a squeeze to shut her up. It does the exact opposite. She starts to cry even harder this time. Rafe grits his teeth, "Stop, stop crying," Rafe squeezes harder this time, intending to choke her out until she complies. Rafe shakes her a few times just to hear her cry harder. He could feel her walls pulsing from the lack of air. Rafe moans, thrusting his hips at the feeling of her squeezing his cock. He rolls his hips from the sensation. A deep, guttural moan escapes his throat. Fuck...she felt heavenly.

It had been four hours since then. Barry and Rafe would draw little tally marks on her skin every time they came. Soon the few lines turned into small groupings along her thighs and breasts. Barry had written a few words across her skin for the kick of it. Rafe had added some words himself just for the sake of it. ‘Suck me’ had been written on both breasts, ‘Cock sleeve’ was scribbled on her bare mound, ‘Cum dumpster’ had been scribbled on her rear. A few more tally marks could only be seen on her inner thighs. By the end of it the poor thing was brain dead. Her voice had gone hoarse from the hours of screaming.

Rafe felt sorry for missing his sister's recital. He'll have to make up for it. Right now he was just too fucked up to do anything. Rafe was drained, his balls are empty but hey, at least he's way richer. He shares a blunt with Barry. Both of them taking short puffs from the bud. Rafe was still cockwarming his new pet. Every now and then rolling his hips. It's not like she was there anymore.

They broke her, mind and body. As the prices began to rise, so did the poor woman's torment. Barry passes over the blunt. Rafe takes a few huffs. It was getting late and by then he was more than satisfied with the money they accumulated. Rafe closes his eyes, turning his head to his companion, "What do you think we should call it?" suggesting a name for the video. Barry pauses for a while. He turns to the Kook and grins, "How about....sibling bonding?"

Rafe pauses for a moment, turning to his accomplice, "What do you mean by that?" Barry only smiles back, "I think you know," "Know what?" a feeling of dread starts to consume him. There's a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. All color drains from his face as Rafe releases the woman. He scrambles away from her. He's never sobered up so fast in his life. Rafe quickly changes into his clothes. He checks his phone to read the last few messages.

-Promise me you won't miss it Rafe! I'll message you when I get back home, ok? Love you ❤ 1:15pm -Where are you? I don't want to be late :( 2:49pm -You promised me you'd make it in time. 3:08pm -Never mind, your friend offered me a ride. 3:25pm

Rafe read the text messages over and over again. His hands can't stop shaking as he almost drops the phone. He doesn't look back, afraid of the unenviable truth, "I'm uh...I'm gonna head out, my sister she--she's waiting for me," just as Rafe was about to leave he hears Barry, "Sarah?" his face is expressionless, only his brows were raised. Yet his eyes were cold and calculated. Barry only ever gave that look right before fucking them over. The hell is he planning now?

"No..." Rafe answers. Barry purses his lips, "Is it...Wheezy?" as if he didn't know anything, "Oh...that's right, there's another one," as if he never spoke with her. Rafe turns to him now, obviously annoyed, "She's waiting for me at home," now demanding to leave. Barry raises a brow, "You think so?"

"I know so,"

"Sure?"

"Dude, why are you so interested in my sister?"

"Step-sister,"

"Listen man, I've gotta go, she's waiting for me," but before he could leave, Barry starts to laugh, "I think you know where she is, Country Club," and for a moment, Rafe pauses, he thinks about what Barry just said. Rafe faces Barry. He looks him dead in the eyes, "What the fuck are you saying?" he approaches the mattress, "What the fuck do you mean--" almost choking on his words, "...What do you mean by that...?" there's a strong feeling of despair that takes over his senses. Rafe felt like he was going to puke. Barry couldn’t help it, he knows he should’ve told him. But if Rafe knew he was fucking his own stepsister, well, he’d stop right there.

Rafe starts to hyperventilate. He fell to his knees, realizing the weight of what he had done. In the past few hours, the two men had put you through the most abusive experience of your life. Rafe used to be excited hearing the ‘ping’ that came from his comment section. To him, that meant money was being sent to directly into his account. Hearing them now made his stomach turn. Tears form in the corners of his eyes as he stares back at you, “That…that’s my stepsister--“

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Barry cradles her in his arms, as if they were a doting couple. Rafe couldn’t believe this was happening, “You’re sick…” he stumbles backwards. Barry glares at him, “You were balls deep inside her, but I’m the one who's sick?” he doesn’t give Rafe a second glance.

Money was tight and Barry needed to create the most depraved film yet. Something that was so hot yet so fucking wrong. Barry never mentioned who the buyer had been. The brother of Rafe's last affair. A married woman who had been blackmailed by the two men. After taking her own life, her brother wanted revenge. So, he waited, planned, and plotted while Rafe thrived while living in figure eight. He hired Barry as a part of his sick revenge scheme.

Barry of course complied. After all, it was mainly Rafe's fault for sneaking out to see said client. After losing one of their most valuable customers, Barry had to pin the blame on someone. Who knew it would produce one of the greatest film's he's ever made? It has an equal amount of shock and lust, combined into a four-hour long video. Barry lifts her up and into his arms. He cradles her against his chest, carefully removing the sack. For a moment, Rafe is in a state of shock. Only staring at them.

Barry gently cradles her face, he holds her up to Rafe, “C’mon Country Club, give her a lil kiss,”

Rafe felt sick to his stomach. He fell to his knees and Barry was capturing it all. His final end of the deal was being completed: Film Rafe Cameron having a break down in front of millions of viewers. His fans watched as Rafe started to scream at the top of his lungs. He held the sides of his temples. Refusing to believe what he had done. What he did to you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Rafe wanted to to finish one last film then be done with it. Then he’ll quit and live a regular life. Rafe regrets ever missing your recital, he regrets not answering you sooner, he should've never started this thing in the first place. Never in his life had he abused someone to that extent. He felt a strong wave of anxiety taking over as he spilled his guts on the floor, puking out the alcohol from his system. Rafe began to panic, turning his head to face the screen as he stares back at the lens. Now the entire Outer Banks will know what happened.

#dark!rafe #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #reader #reader insert #dark!rafe cameron x you #dark!Rafe x reader #my works #my work #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader

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jasntodds · 11 months

Text

Alive | J.T.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Request: yes, here

Summary: Red Hood shows up at your apartment only to reveal he's your not-so-dead boyfriend

Warnings: Swearing, 18+, smut, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of canon drug use (he's not actually high in this but it's mentioned)

Words: 3,412

A/n: A huge thank you to @tenpintsof-sundrop for the idea 😭 please go check them out if you haven't already!! This kept turning into angst (why can't I just write fluff and smut ffs) which is why it took forever I'm so sorry to the anon who requested this lol but there's no angst!! If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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Gotham’s city lights are the only thing illuminating parts of your room where your curtains don’t quite close all of the way. The sounds of distant sirens and passing cars echo into your room as you’re finally getting some much-needed sleep. Bruce called you three days ago with the news about Jason. Nothing really seems worth the energy anymore, including sleep but tonight it’s as if your body finally caved under the pressure of grief. But, you’re not asleep long before something wakes you up.

You stir awake to the sound of creaking near the window. Your eyes shoot open as you keep on your side, facing the opposite direction. Your heart starts to thunder and you swear you locked that window. It’s Crime Alley in Gotham City, you always lock your door and window. Jason even got you good locks for your window and your door. Someone can’t possibly be breaking in but that’s the only explanation.

You reach to the side of the bed, slowly, careful not to make quick and harsh movements so whoever is in your home doesn’t realize you’re awake. The metal of the baseball is cold against the palm of your hand as your fingers curl around the handle. It’s not a knife or a gun, but a metal baseball can kill and incapacitate all the same. All you need is one really good swing and you’re good to go. So, you suck on a deep breath, gripping the handle as hard as you can before you sit up quickly, turning around on your knees to face the intruder.

“Get out of my apartment!” You yell, baseball bat swung over your shoulder with your arms ready to swing the second he comes close enough.

He takes a step forward into the light coming from your window and your heart drops.

Red Hood.

Why the fuck is Red Hood, Gotham’s newest crime lord, standing in your apartment?

“Don’t freak out.” He says, the voice modulator disguising his voice.

You almost laugh at the request. He’s killing people out there and is ruthless but he doesn’t want you to freak out when he’s standing in your bedroom? That makes perfect sense. And why does it have to be your apartment? There are so many other ones he could have picked but it just had to be yours.

Jason is careful as he takes the helmet off, revealing himself to you. Your eyes grow wide as your jaw starts to fall open. Jason can see your grip on the bat start to loosen as his chest starts to swell. He always questioned your choice of a baseball bat, thinking you'd never wake up with enough time to grab it and defend yourself. He's happy he was clearly very wrong.

“You…you died…?” You question, almost certain you’re dreaming.

Bruce Wayne himself called you and told you Jason had been killed. You knew he was Robin and it was all over Gotham City News. Robin had been killed by the Joker. But, Jason Todd is currently standing in front of you, his chest moving with every breath which means he's alive.

He's desperately trying not to think about dying. That's not why he came here anyway. It wasn't to discuss the gorey details of a deranged clown with a bloody crowbar. It was just to see you and let you know he was alive. That is it. No more reminders of dying, not tonight. Not when he isn't high enough to numb the panic or pain of the thoughts. All he wants to do is see you and exist in a moment with just you and him.

“Didn’t stick.” Jason chuckles softly, holding the helmet on his hip.

There’s something Jason would describe as a chortle escapes your lips. “Didn’t stick?”

Jason shrugs his shoulder easily but there’s still some tension wrapped around his bones. “Yeah.” Jason clears his throat, looking to the floor and then back to you, thinking you probably don't believe him. Who would?

“How though?” You ask and you’re not sure how this is real.

Maybe you think you’re actually hallucinating now. Maybe grief has sucked you into insanity. But he sounds just as you remember and he looks the exact same. Jason dying and coming back as Red Hood, still fighting crime in some way, does sound like a very Jason Todd thing to do.

“Gotham.” Jason scoffs. “It’s a long story.” Jason skimps on the details, partially because he doesn’t really know how it works and also just to keep you out of it. He didn’t really like that you knew he was Robin anyway. Too dangerous.

Jason takes a step forward as you watch him closely. Maybe it’s a dream. But, it’s Gotham City and the weirdest and most unbelievable shit tends to happen here. Jason being resurrected isn’t actually the most insane thing you’ve heard of happening. It's just one of those things that's hard to believe because losing him hurt so bad you swore you'd never recover. You want to be positive it's him before you let your hopes up even if they're rising like a steady tide. Jason can see the hesitance the way your brows are still creased and the bat still hanging over your shoulder.

“Not convinced?” He asks through a shallow breath, his own hopes falling.

He didn't really think of what he'd do if you didn't believe him.

“In my defense, this is insane.” You state as your grip tightens on the bat. "I mean, resurrection or being zombified, kind of insane."

Jason lets out a sigh as he starts listing things only he would know about you and only things you would know about him. He tells you about your first date which wasn’t anything fancy but was yours. He told you about how he has his half of a photobooth picture you two took on your third date as a bookmark. And he tells you about Alred teaching him how to make chocolate chip cookies his first week at Wayne Manor because Jason couldn’t sleep. It was too quiet in the manor.

“I also told you the bat was a shitty idea because you’d never wake up in time to grab it.” Jason offers a smirk.

“Guess you were wrong.” You point out with a teasing look.

“Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “But you didn’t take a swing so…” Jason shrugs his shoulders, a grin splitting his face.

“Haha.” You scrunch your nose with the sarcastic remark. "I'm not gonna just hit someone with a bat." You shake your head dramatically.

"I broke into your apartment?" Jason lets out a chortle "I mean, don't fucking hit me now but someone breaks in, do something, babe."

"Oh, it must really be you because only Jason Todd would criticize my weapon of choice and then criticize what I do about someone breaking in my own apartment." You quip right back as you place a hand on your hip, the bat now hanging loosely over your shoulder being held with just one hand.

Jason's smirk turns softer, a gentle smile pulling at his lips as he looks to the floor and then back to you. "Yeah, it's me." His shoulders move forward as he sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly as if the very act of breathing too hard might make all of this disappear.

Your face softens and as hard as it may be to believe, it has to be him. Everything he listed is all stuff only the two of you would know and the quick quips, Jason never missed a beat. You don't know how or even why he's alive, but it's him. So, you drop the bat to the side of your bed, quickly getting up from your bed. You don't notice how cold the floor is as you run up to Jason, colliding into him with a force study enough to make him step back just so neither of you wall.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his shoulder. He smells different than before but somehow the same. He smells like gunmetal with a mix of the minty shampoo he always used. But, his arms come and wrap tightly around your middle and it all feels the same. His arms are still as sturdy as always and warm. He still feels like home and you do for him, too.

His chest erupts in warmth like a dormant volcano erupting for the time in decades. Every piece of him starts to be encompassed in warmth and a sense of comfort. It's been the longest three days of his life but that doesn't really matter, not right now. It just feels safe here. Between coming back, the drug, and Crane, it's been busy and hectic and heavy. But, he's standing here with you and all he wants to do is focus on this moment because it's not so heavy or loud anymore. You always let him just exist in a way no one else ever did.

Jason's the one that pulls away first but only until you look back at him. The corner of his mouth perks up before he collides his lips with yours. The kiss nearly sucks the breath out of your lungs as your eyes close and your hands tangle in his hair. Jason's grip tightens around you as if he's afraid you'll fall away from him if he lets go.

You can feel him smile against your mouth and it's something that always sent your stomach swirling. Jason Todd genuinely happy is something irreplaceable. And he is always happy to be anywhere near you.

The kiss starts to grow sloppy and desperate, teeth clacking against each other. The happiness of being reunited starts to collide into relief and desperation to never let go again.

Jason's arms loosen just enough to go to your hips, his fingertips sliding under your shirt and digging into your flesh. He's missed the feeling of your skin against his. It's been three days but dying really has made it seem like it's been years and he doesn't want to waste the time he gets anymore. All he wants to do is be with you and you slide his jacket, then hoodie off of the armor.

"Miss me?" Jason asks against your lips and you can feel the devilish smirk that's splitting his face.

"Always." You mutter before Jason tugs your shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor.

In a heartbeat, Jason has you backing up until your knees hit the edge of your bed. The two of you fall onto the soft mattress, Jason bracing the fall for the both you and his lips never leave yours. He slides his leg onto the bed, slotting his knee between your legs right until his thigh meets your wetting slit.

You almost groan at the contact and Jason feels the tremble of your lips against his. And he fucking smirks again.

"Seems like you missed something else, too, huh?" His voice is low but easy with the teasing remark.

"Shut up." You bite back.

It's something about the way he says it that you almost want to bite him and melt under his touch at the same time. Jason has never been one to just let things flow and meet in the middle, he always had to have some sort of comment about it with the corner of his mouth perking upwards. He just can't help himself and maybe you always found it a little bit endearing, even when he's annoying.

Jason pushes his thigh against your slit again and this time he's successful in getting a quiet moan from the back of your throat. The pressure is hot and thick as your underwear start to stick to your pussy. You grind yourself on his thigh and Jason knows he has you exactly where he wants you, not that you would rather be anywhere else right now.

You help Jason tug the armor off and onto the floor, leaving his chest bare and every toned muscle on display. Your mouth practically waters before you yank him back down to you.

He keeps his leg slotted between yours as you slide your hands over the muscles of his back, feeling every raised piece of skin where his back is tensed. His skin is always warm under your fingers. You can't help but glide your fingertips along the skin before digging your nails in.

Jason arches his back, a snarl leaving his throat before his eyes lock with yours. His pupils are blown, black consuming almost every trace of green. So, you do it again as a smirk tugs at your lips because you know that'll get him going. The look he gives you turns feral and hungry as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.

His thigh is pushed harder against your slit, earning him a whimper before he takes it away entirely. There's a triumphant smile on his lips as he raises his brow.

"I can still play the game better than you, babe." Jason teases before he kisses your cheek and moves down to your neck.

"Up for debate." You quip back as his teeth graze your pulse point.

Your heart jumps and you know he can feel it. A snicker falls from his lip before he nips down and starts sucking a purple mark into your skin. A reminder that you're his.

Jason slides his leg back between yours and as if connected by a magnetic force, you don't miss a beat in grinding yourself back on him. Jason scatters just a few more marks across your chest as your breathing becomes quicker, a warm and static pit growing in the pit of your stomach.

"Could just leave now." Jason huffs as he comes back to your lips, sliding a hand between your bodies.

"Don't you dare." Your threat is weak and almost pitiful.

Jason tugs the elastic of your underwear up, exposing your pussy to some of the cool air in the room. You wiggle against him, desperate to feel more than just his thigh. But, then he snaps the elastic back, making you jerk forward and let out a displeased whimper.

"Jay." You scold, a hollowed glare on your face as his face fills with amusement. "Come on." You whine, pushing yourself against his thigh as your hands trail from his back and to the zipper of his pants.

"Since you asked nicely." Jason offers you a toothy grin before he sits up.

Jason reaches for a condom from your nightstand before tugging his pants down and sliding it on. His hands come to your thighs, pulling you to the edge where he can position himself right up to your leaking slit. He nearly licks his lips as he slides a finger through your folds.

"All for me?" Jason asks with a confidence that makes you want to burn from the inside out.

You almost tease him back but you know if you do, he might just plop down next to you and get himself off.

"I missed you." You stick out your bottom lip, offering him a pout.

A rumble comes through his chest as he moves his finger to your clit. You lose all bite and snark from your words as the rest of the room melts away. It's been the longest three days of his life and he's missed you, too.

It's more than this that he misses. You always had a way of making any place feel like home. You always got him to feel comfortable in his own skin even when his own mind was running away with damaged versions of himself. And he's missed the way you go back and forth with him. A lot of people find him obnoxious and sure, you do, too sometimes but you still go back and forth. He's missed the way you always smile at him, with something like warm and kind. It's a relief being alive again, but it's also a relief getting to see you again.

"I missed, you, too." Jason finally says and he pulls his finger away.

Jason grabs his throbbing length in his fist, pumping himself a few times before he lines himself up with your pussy. He pushes forward, slow and steady as he rests a hand beside your head, holding his weight up. You turn your head, offering his forearm a kiss and the feral look in his eyes softens.

As he bottoms out, Jason places his other hand on the other side of your head, bending down to offer a soft kiss to your lips. His chest is heaving, moving rapidly but his lips are gentle against yours.

You slide your hands into his hair and instead of tugging, you wrap your fingers around the messy strands gently, as if happy to have him near you. Jason pulls out and then pushes back in, keeping up a steady rhythm as the two of you seem to savor the moment with each other.

He showed up as Red Hood. In the back of your head, you know he'll probably leave after this. He's not injured and he didn't seem upset. It's not really late which means he probably has something to do after this. Maybe that raises a lump in your throat for a split second because he's Red Hood.

It's not that Jason Todd magically came back from the dead and he's here again. It's that Jason Todd was murdered as Robin and then came back from the dead to be Red Hood, pick up being a vigilante just a more brutal and ruthless version of one. Being a vigilante is dangerous, as was proven just this week but Jaon comes back to go right back in the game. That part is scary.

Your heart skips as you kiss him back and you'll always be worried as he goes out there. Knowing it'll happen again. But, there is a part of you that admires him for it. He gets murdered and instead of quitting, he comes back to fight harder. Maybe that's completely insane but it is admirable. And you're proud of him for it. Worried, sure, but proud of him. So, you savor the way his lips are chapped against yours and the way his thrusts start to become a little quicker and desperate.

"Missed you." Jason mutters against your lips, his voice raspy and staggered.

"I missed you, too." Your voice is caught between a whimper and a whine.

Jason slides his hand between the two of you, finding your clit. His finger is gentle against the bud as your eyes roll back. He quickens his movements, matching the speed of his thrusts. A pit grows deeper in his own stomach as he nips your lip between his teeth.

He gets a low moan from you and he nearly finishes right then and there, his hips almost stalling. But, he recovers quickly, moving his finger in the way that always got you to unravel.

Your hands move to his back, nails digging in as the pressure feeling grows, echoing into your legs and down to your feet. He's pistoning out of you, the sound of skin on skin mixing with your moans and his groans fill the room. You tug him closer to you as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Jay." You manage to get out as your throat feels like it's closing.

The room spins and Jason is relentless, knowing you're close. You can feel yourself pulsing around his length and you think your head might explode while your heart shoots out of your chest.

"Gonna cum over my cock for me, princess?" Jason drawls, his breath hot against your lips before he moves back to your neck.

"Uh-huh." You sputter out feeling the stars start in the back of your head.

His name falls from your lips loudly and sharply as everything around you explodes into static and stars. Your toes curl as everything starts to shake and convulse against Jason's length. The squeezing of his length sends him falling right off the edge with you, biting down on your neck as the orgasm rips through his body.

Jason works you both through your highs, slowly sitting up but keeping himself inside of you once your legs fall from his waist. He gives you this smile that's a contrast between cheeky and gentle. He bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead, earning a tired but loving smile from you.

"Thanks for stopping by, Jay." Your voice is hoarse but soft.

"Can make it a habit." Jason's grin turns into a smirk, but there's a softness in his eyes.

"Uh-huh, okay, Jay." You roll your eyes, kissing him back.

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