#I told her breathing just gets me through to a place where it's safe to break down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spider-stark · 8 months ago

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INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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baelabong · 4 months ago

Text

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ

(ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq: yes

Pairing: Knight! G!P! Karina x princess! fem reader

Note/warnings: multiple s*x scenes, swearing, this is all fiction gang, riding Next

“Y/N,” he begins, his tone one of authority. “Next week Wednesday is an important night, not just for our kingdom, but for you personally.”

You nod, trying to keep your expression composed. “Yes, Father.”

He walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, a reminder of the expectations that have always been placed on you. “Mark’s family is powerful, their influence extends across many lands. A strong alliance with them would benefit our kingdom greatly. It’s time you start thinking about your future… about marriage.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest, but you force yourself to remain calm, nodding in agreement. “I understand, Father.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Y/N. But as a princess, your duty to the kingdom must come first. Tonight, you must show Mark’s family that you’re ready to take on that responsibility.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening as you suppress the emotions threatening to break free. “I will do my best, Father.”

He gives you a small, approving nod before turning back to the window. “Good. Now, go prepare yourself for the ball. Remember, the future of our kingdom rests on your shoulders.”

With a final bow, you leave his chambers, your composure intact until you’re out of sight. The moment you reach your own room, however, the dam breaks. You collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your father’s words crashes over you.

It’s not just the thought of marriage that tears at your heart—it’s the knowledge that you could never be with the one person you truly love. The unfairness of it all feels suffocating, as though you’re trapped in a cage with no escape.

The door to your chambers opens quietly, and you look up to see Karina standing there. Her expression shifts from concern to heartbreak when she sees you crying. She rushes to your side, kneeling beside you as she gently takes your hands in hers.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” she asks softly, her voice filled with worry. “What happened?”

You can barely speak through your sobs, but the words tumble out in a broken whisper. “It’s so unfair, Karina. My father… he wants me to marry Mark. He says it’s my duty to the kingdom, but… but what about us? Why can’t we be together?”

Karina’s jaw clenches, and you can see the anger flicker in her eyes. She pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly as if she can shield you from the pain of reality. “You’ll always have me, Y/N. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. And if it comes to it, I’ll run away with you. We can leave this place, start a new life where no one can tell us what we can or cannot be.”

You pull back slightly, looking into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “You would do that for me?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Her eyes blaze with fierce determination as she cups your face in her hands. “I would do anything for you. I’d even get rid of anyone who stands in our way… even your father if it meant keeping you safe and happy.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, a surge of emotion overwhelming you. The world around you falls away, and all that matters is Karina—her love, her devotion, the way she makes you feel safe and cherished. Without thinking, you crash your lips against hers, the kiss filled with desperation and raw need.

Karina responds immediately, her arms wrapping around you as she deepens the kiss. You can feel the intensity in the way she holds you, as if she never wants to let go. Her hands begin to roam, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.

You break the kiss, panting as you look at her with a mix of longing and urgency. “Karina… I need you. Please…”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. In a blur of motion, she lifts you into her arms, carrying you over to the bed. She lays you down gently, her eyes dark with desire as she hovers over you. The sight of her above you, her hair falling like a curtain around your face, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice husky, though you can see the tenderness in her eyes.

You nod, your hands trembling as they reach for her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, she kisses you again, her lips moving down your neck as her hands begin to undo the delicate ties of your gown. The fabric slips away, exposing your skin to the cool air and Karina’s burning touch. Her fingers trace over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she explores every inch of you.

Your breaths become ragged as her hands move lower, teasing and caressing, until you’re a trembling mess beneath her. The composed princess, who stood so poised before her father, is gone. All that remains is a woman lost in the throes of passion, unable to hold back the moans and gasps that escape her lips.

“Karina… please…” you plead, your voice barely a whisper as you arch into her touch.

She doesn’t make you wait any longer. Her hand slips between your thighs, and you cry out at the sensation, your body reacting instantly to her touch. She watches you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and desire, as she brings you to the edge of ecstasy.

You can barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as she continues to work her magic. Words fall from your lips, broken and breathless as you cling to her, your nails digging into her shoulders. “Karina… I… I’m…”

“Let go,” she murmurs against your skin, her voice soothing as she pushes you over the edge. “I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ll always have you.”

With a final cry, you shatter, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. Karina holds you through it, her touch never wavering as she guides you back down, her lips pressing gentle kisses to your flushed skin.

When it’s over, you collapse against her, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Karina pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she whispers soothing words in your ear.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, her voice full of conviction. “And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

You smile weakly, feeling safe and cherished in her embrace. “And I’m yours,” you murmur, your voice filled with emotion. “Always”

——

The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow through the tall windows of your chambers. You stand before a large mirror, admiring the way your gown shimmers like stardust. The intricate embroidery catches the light, making you look like a vision of royalty. You smile softly at your reflection, but the flutter in your stomach isn’t just from the anticipation of the grand ball—it’s from the woman standing just behind you, her presence as electrifying as ever.

Karina, your ever-loyal knight, is supposed to be helping you get ready, but her touch lingers far longer than necessary, her hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress and the bare skin of your shoulders. Her fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close.

“You look stunning,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “But you know, I could just as easily take this gown off you as I put it on.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, and you bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Karina,” you whisper, your voice trembling with both excitement and a hint of warning. “We don’t have time for this… the ball—”

“Let them wait,” she interrupts, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against her. “You know how much I hate sharing you with them.”

You laugh softly, though it quickly turns into a quiet gasp as she presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, her lips lingering there. “Karina, please,” you try to protest, but your resolve is already weakening under her touch.

She turns you around to face her, her eyes dark with longing as they meet yours. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?” she asks, her voice low and husky. “To watch you parade around in front of all those nobles, pretending you belong to the kingdom when you’re mine?”

The possessiveness in her tone sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help the way your body responds to her, leaning into her touch. “I belong to you,” you whisper, your hands coming up to rest on her chest. “But we must be careful. If anyone finds out…”

She silences you with a deep, searing kiss, her hands sliding up to cup your face. The kiss is filled with a mix of frustration and need, her lips demanding as they move against yours. You melt into her, the worries about the ball and the court slipping away, replaced by the sheer intensity of her kiss.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, her forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never let anyone take you from me,” she vows, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re mine, Y/N. Only mine.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you nod, your hands tightening on her arms. “And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice soft but firm. “Now and always.”

She kisses you again, more gently this time, before reluctantly pulling away. “We should go,” she says, though the reluctance is clear in her voice. “Before I decide to keep you all to myself.”

You laugh softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You always know how to make me want to stay,” you tease, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back.

Karina watches as you turn back to the mirror, her eyes never leaving you as you finish preparing. She helps you with the final touches, her fingers brushing against yours as she adjusts your necklace, her gaze filled with both love and longing.

“Are you ready, my princess?” she asks, her voice a soft whisper in your ear.

You nod, turning to face her once more. “As long as you’re by my side.”

She smiles, a rare, tender smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

——

The grand ballroom buzzes with life, the music resonating through the space as the elite of the kingdom whirl about in their finest attire. You, Princess Y/N, are the center of attention, as always. Tonight, you're dressed in a gown that shimmers like stardust, catching the light with every graceful movement you make. You smile and nod politely at the courtiers and nobles who bow as you pass, though your heart is elsewhere—focused on the one person who truly matters to you.

From across the room, you feel Karina's eyes on you. Your knight, ever vigilant, stands close to the shadows, her gaze never straying far from you. She’s always been your protector, your confidante, and now, your secret love. The bond you share is a hidden treasure, known only to the two of you, kept safe from the prying eyes of the court.

As you continue to circulate through the room, your attention is suddenly drawn to Prince Mark, who approaches with an easy confidence. His charm is well-known, and the look in his eyes tells you that tonight, his interest is solely on you.

“Your Highness,” he says with a smooth bow, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

You hesitate for a brief moment, your thoughts flickering to Karina. But you know that you must accept; refusing him in front of the court could raise unnecessary questions. With a composed smile, you place your hand in his. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As the two of you begin to dance, Mark pulls you slightly closer, his grip firm but still within the bounds of propriety. The two of you move together effortlessly, and for those watching, you’re the perfect picture of royalty. Yet, there’s an unease in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that only grows as Mark’s gaze lingers on you longer than it should.

“Princess,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear, “you are even more beautiful up close than I imagined. It’s no wonder everyone speaks so highly of you.”

You offer a polite smile, keeping your expression neutral. “You flatter me, Your Grace.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. As you move together to the rhythm of the music, he watches you closely, his gaze intent. “You must have suitors from every corner of the kingdom, vying for your hand,” he begins, his voice low and intimate. “But I wonder, has anyone truly captured your heart?”

His question pulls at something deep inside you, and you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound tinged with the memory of the night before—a memory that flashes vividly in your mind.

---

It was late, the palace silent, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the curtains of your chambers. Karina, your loyal knight and secret lover, had entered your room with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. She closed the door behind her, sealing off the world outside, leaving only the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Without a word, she crossed the room, her eyes locked onto yours. You tried to maintain your composure, the grace and poise expected of a princess, but it all began to slip away the moment Karina reached you. She cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle yet commanding, and leaned in to press her lips against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken desire.

“Y/N,” she murmured against your lips, her voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You drive me mad, you know that?”

You smiled against her mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what do you plan to do about it, Karina?”

Her answer was to deepen the kiss, her hands moving to the laces of your gown, deftly untying them. “I’m going to make you mine,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “I’m going to make you forget everything but me.”

You shivered at her words, a quiet moan escaping your lips as she pushed the gown from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. The cool air of the room brushed against your bare skin, but all you could focus on was Karina—her touch, her scent, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Karina,” you breathed, your hands finding their way to the hem of her tunic, tugging it over her head. “I need you.”

She groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she kissed a path down your neck. “You’ll have me, Y/N,” she promised, her voice thick with need. “But first, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say that you’re mine.”

You gasped as her hands roamed over your body, her fingers brushing over sensitive spots that made you arch into her touch. “I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours, Karina.”

She smiled against your skin, a wicked smile that made your pulse race. “That’s what I like to hear,” she murmured, her lips trailing down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you back until you were lying on the bed, her body hovering over yours.

“Tell me how much you want this,” she said, her voice low and commanding as she teased you with light touches, her fingers brushing over your thighs.

“I want this more than anything,” you moaned, your back arching as she continued to tease you, the ache between your legs growing with every passing second. “Please, Karina, don’t make me wait.”

She chuckled softly, a sound full of dark promise. “Oh, my princess, I won’t make you wait long,” she said, positioning herself between your legs. “But I need you to know that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Do you understand?”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping the sheets as she finally entered you, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, her rhythm steady and deep, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Karina,” you gasped, your voice breaking as she moved inside you, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Oh, gods, Karina—”

“Louder,” she demanded, her voice rough with desire as she quickened her pace, her hands tightening on your hips. “I want to hear you scream my name, Y/N.”

And you did. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming to hold back. You screamed her name as she brought you to your peak, your body trembling beneath hers as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

---

Back in the ballroom, Prince Mark’s words pull you back to the present, a soft, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you laugh lightly, your mind still lingering on the memory of Karina and the way she had completely unraveled you just hours ago.

The question catches you off guard, and for a split second, your mind flashes to Karina—her steady gaze, the way she always seems to understand you without a word. You quickly compose yourself, offering a practiced response. “As a princess, my duties to the kingdom come first, Prince Mark. Matters of the heart are secondary.”

Mark’s smile widens, but there’s a calculating edge to it. “Perhaps,” he says, leaning in just a fraction closer, “but even the most dutiful princess deserves someone who understands her, who can stand by her side through all challenges. I could be that person, Y/N.”

His use of your name, without the formal title, feels too intimate, too presumptuous. You maintain your composure, though inside, you can feel your frustration building. “Your Grace, you are kind to offer such sentiments, but I believe you overestimate your familiarity with me.”

Mark chuckles softly, undeterred by your cool response. “Perhaps, but I would very much like to change that. I see in you a strength, a wisdom that surpasses others of your rank. Together, we could do great things.”

The dance continues, but your thoughts are no longer on the music or the steps. You’re acutely aware of Karina, standing just out of sight, undoubtedly watching this interaction with a heavy heart. You glance briefly in her direction, catching her silhouette in the corner of your eye. The tension in her posture is unmistakable—she’s holding herself back, maintaining her knightly duty, but you know she’s struggling to keep her emotions in check.

As the music draws to a close, Mark tightens his grip on your hand slightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go just yet. “Think about what I’ve said, Princess,” he says quietly, his tone sincere. “You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are.”

You nod politely, withdrawing your hand as the dance ends. “I appreciate your words, Your Grace. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to my other guests.”

Before Mark can respond, Karina appears at your side, her presence a reassuring balm to your frayed nerves. She bows slightly, her voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Your Highness, may I have a word?”

You nod, grateful for the interruption. As you walk away from the crowded ballroom, you feel Karina’s hand brush against yours—a brief, hidden touch that sends warmth through your entire being. Once you’re alone in a secluded corridor, Karina turns to you, her eyes searching yours.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

You nod, though the encounter with Mark has left you unsettled. “I’m fine, Karina. But he was… persistent.”

Karina’s jaw tightens, and you can see the storm brewing behind her usually composed exterior. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” she admits, her voice low and filled with barely-contained jealousy. “He doesn’t know you like I do, and I won’t let him think he can have you.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand on her cheek. “And he won’t,” you assure her softly, leaning in until your lips meet hers in a tender, stolen kiss. “You’re the one I choose, Karina. Always.”

Karina’s breath catches, her eyes darkening with a mix of desire and possessiveness as your words sink in. She tightens her grip on your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Then show me,” she whispers, her voice rough with emotion, as if daring you to prove your devotion.

Your heart skips a beat at her command, the intensity in her gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Without another word, you quickly glance around to ensure no one is watching, then take her hand and lead her down the dimly lit corridor. Your steps are hurried, the anticipation and need driving you forward until you find a door to a private room—one that you know will offer the seclusion you both crave.

You push the door open, pulling Karina inside before shutting it behind you. The moment the door clicks shut, Karina is on you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s both demanding and filled with raw passion. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair as you press your body against hers, needing to feel every inch of her.

She backs you up against the bed, her hands roaming over your curves, teasing the sensitive skin beneath your dress. You moan into her mouth as she grips your hips, lifting you slightly before laying you down on the bed. She hovers over you, her eyes devouring the sight of you laid out beneath her, your dress slipping off your shoulders to reveal more of your skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice filled with reverence as she dips her head to kiss along your neck. Her lips and teeth work in tandem, leaving a trail of marks that you know will be hidden by your gown later, but for now, they’re a claim—her claim—on you.

“Karina…” you gasp, your body arching into her touch as she works your dress down further, exposing your breasts to her hungry gaze. “Please… I need you.”

She growls low in her throat, one hand sliding down your body, pushing up the fabric of your skirts until her fingers find the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m yours, Y/N. Only yours,” she whispers before claiming your lips again, her fingers slipping inside you with ease, making you cry out.

The way she touches you, with both tenderness and urgency, sets your nerves on fire. You grip her shoulders, your hips bucking against her hand as she works you over, her thumb rubbing against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. But you need more—so much more.

“Karina,” you pant, your voice breathless as you pull her closer. “I want you inside me. Please… I need to feel you.”

She doesn’t hesitate. With a quick, deft motion, she undoes her belt and frees herself, her thick, throbbing cock springing to life. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help but reach out, your fingers wrapping around her shaft, feeling the way it twitches in your hand. She groans at your touch, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head as you stroke her a few times.

“Y/N…” she breathes, her voice strained with desire. “I need you.”

You release her, your hands shaking with anticipation as you pull her down to you, positioning her between your thighs. She lines herself up with your entrance, and you both let out a shared moan as she slowly pushes inside, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your back arches off the bed, your nails digging into her shoulders as she fills you completely.

“Oh god, Karina…” you whimper, your head falling back against the pillows as you feel her cock bulging in your stomach, the veins rubbing exquisitely against your inner walls.

She stills for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Her eyes are locked on yours, filled with a love so deep it nearly takes your breath away. “You’re so good to me,” she murmurs, her hands caressing your sides as she starts to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate. “How did I ever deserve you?”

Your heart swells at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you meet her thrusts, the pleasure building with each movement. “Karina… you’re perfect. I’m the one who’s lucky… so lucky…”

She kisses you again, her movements becoming more urgent, more frantic as the need to claim you, to make you hers, overwhelms her. You can feel every inch of her inside you, the way her cock drags against your walls, the way she seems to hit that perfect spot with every thrust. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain as she takes you higher and higher, until you’re both teetering on the edge.

“Karina… I’m close…” you gasp, your hands gripping her arms as you feel the coil in your belly tightening, ready to snap.

“Me too,” she groans, her hips slamming into yours as she chases her release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N… make you mine…”

“You’re so perfect,” Karina breathes, her voice rough with emotion as she begins to move in earnest. Her hips rock against yours, creating a rhythm that has you gasping and moaning with every thrust. “I want to fill you up with my babies, Y/N. I want you to feel me inside you, to know that you’re mine in every way.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you can barely process them through the haze of pleasure. The thought of Karina’s claim on you, her desire to leave a mark, sends shivers through your body, making your pleasure even more intense.

“Karina… please,” you moan, your hands clutching her shoulders as you try to keep your composure. “I… I want it.”

“That’s it,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as she leans in closer. “Take it all, Y/N. I want to see you filled with my cum, to know that you’re carrying a part of me with you.”

Her words are almost too much to bear, adding an extra layer of urgency to her thrusts. You’re so lost in the pleasure that the thought of what she’s saying only intensifies the feeling. You moan loudly, your hips bucking against her as your climax draws near.

Karina’s thrusts become more frantic, her cock driving deeper, hitting all the right spots inside you. She reaches down, her hand finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles to push you closer to the edge. “Come for me, Y/N,” she commands, her voice a low growl. “I want to feel you come around me, to know that you’re mine completely.”

The combination of her cock filling you and her fingers working magic on your clit sends you spiraling over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes through you. You can’t think, can barely breathe as the pleasure overwhelms you. “Karina… I’m c-coming…”

“Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice filled with pride and desire as she fucks you through your climax. She speeds up her thrusts, her cock pulsing inside you as she chases her own release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N. You’re going to be so full of me, you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

The force of her words pushes you even further, your orgasm extending as she continues to pound into you, filling you with her cum. You can feel her release filling you, the warmth spreading through your core as she moans and groans, her thrusts becoming erratic as she reaches her peak.

Karina finally stills, her cock twitching inside you as she spills her seed, the heat and pressure almost overwhelming. She collapses beside you, pulling you close as you both try to catch your breath. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint echoes of your shared pleasure.

“You’re mine,” Karina whispers, her voice a mix of satisfaction and tenderness as she wraps her arms around you. “All mine.”

“And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice filled with a contented sigh as you snuggle into her embrace. “

Her words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You scream her name, your body trembling as the pleasure consumes you, your inner walls clamping down around her cock.

The sensation is too much for Karina. With a guttural moan, she thrusts deep inside you one final time, her cock pulsing as she spills her hot seed into you, filling you to the brim. The warmth spreads through you, and you can feel her cum seeping out around her cock, coating your thighs in a sticky mess.

———

The moment is brief, but it’s enough to reaffirm what you both know in your hearts. You pull back just as the sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway. With a shared look of understanding, you both step back into your roles—princess and knight, lovers hidden in plain sight.

“Tonight, we play our parts,” you say quietly, giving her one last lingering look before you return to the ballroom. “But never forget, it’s you who holds my heart.”

As you rejoin the festivities, Karina watches from the sidelines, her protective gaze never leaving you. And while the world may see you as a princess without a suitor, you both know the truth—a love that runs deeper than duty, hidden beneath the moonlight.

The grand ballroom is alive with laughter and the soft strains of music, guests swirling around in their finest attire. You move through the crowd, your thoughts occupied with the evening's complex dynamics and your secret affair with Karina.

After your quiet, intimate moment with Karina in the hallway, you return to the ballroom, your heart lightened by her presence and the secret you both share.

You exchange fleeting glances with Karina, whose eyes remain steadfast and watchful from the sidelines.

Just as you're about to engage in conversation with a group of nobles, Mark approaches you again. This time, his demeanor is more earnest, and he catches your hand gently, guiding you to a quieter side of the room.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice carrying a note of earnest sincerity. “I have something important to ask you.”

You look up at him, sensing the gravity of the moment. “What is it, Your Grace?”

Mark’s gaze is steady and filled with emotion. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small, elegant box. With a deep breath, he opens it to reveal a sparkling engagement ring. “Princess Y/N, I know that our time together has been short, but in it, I have seen the depth of your heart and the strength of your character. I cannot imagine my future without you by my side.”

He drops to one knee, his eyes locked on yours. “Will you marry me?”

The room seems to freeze around you. Mark’s proposal hangs in the air, the weight of his words heavy and poignant. The unexpectedness of the moment leaves you breathless, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind.

As you open your mouth to respond, a soft touch on your arm makes you turn. Karina’s presence, though discreet, is unmistakable. Her eyes, filled with a mix of pain and determination, meet yours across the room.

Mark’s gaze is unwavering, waiting for your answer, while Karina’s look speaks volumes—a silent plea, a promise of unspoken love.

Oh fuck.

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dolliestfairy · 1 year ago

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𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝅄ֹ ׅ♡ ೀ ʚĭɞ ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪

(Crazy) Yandere [Nerd] Boy x Soft!Chubby!Fem!Reader ༢𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

𔓘 Tw : Kidnapping, Extreme Noncon (y'all are strangers bro), Rushed Fanfic, Mentions Of Blood, Virginity-Take, Extreme Somnophilia, Stalking, Extreme Obsession, Impregnate, A little of Bondage, Seriously dude you're fucking with a crazy nerd boy who is a freaking stranger to you like y'all didnt know each other but this madman is really know you to the soul from all his stalking and stuff. this fanfic is quite the Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.

𔓘 A/N : y'all.. this are f***king insane bro.. like this is kinda disturbing imo as a writer of this and also a lot of suffocating. Read at your own risk. me myself actually like the extreme yandere fics but this is still the prefix of it. stay safe while reading this because again; y'all are a stranger!! if a dark content yandere isnt your cup of tea then i highly recommend you to spend your shit at other blogs!! ty.

W/C : 6,4K for Stranger Fucking 💀

Currently thinking abt nerdy men who looks like they would shit in their pants when someone raised their voice at them, but the truth is; he's really really quite the strong. he's a nerdy man who arent shy at all (or maybe just a little) and he's simply just dont like to be bothered by anyone else. he's also a nerdy man who told himself countless time to just focus on studying and studying, and at the first moment; he actually manage to do it within his daily life, well until he met you.

You; plump, soft looking girl with chubby cheeks and doe eyes. you dont even know how much you affect him didnt you? arent you just dumb? walking there and then with such a tiny skirt that almost showed up your plump ass cheeks. walking down in the hallway with such dress that hugged all of your curves together perfectly. oh if only you find out how every night he would spend his time in his bedroom alone while his hand thrust his own cock up and down, thinking about you. he would be drown in his thoughts about how you would find out all his dark fantasy about you. but.. he do realize he shouldnt be doing this actually, no really, he should just be studying, but the soft laugh and those.. those whimpers terror you gave him just drove him to his edge.

And the fact that he masturbate about you when you both are clearly still stranger - is fucking crazy. he mostly had heard of how'd you talk, whimper and moan (wait.. how did.. he know?) and stuff like that while your own self being completely un guard around him. he swear to his thumbs he hated you for making him felt like this, i mean how could you?? a plump girl just trying to get into her daily life as normal as usual can make some nerd dude mad in love with her without her being aware at all?! he cant do this.. he cant do this anymore..!

And he really cant do it anymore. as he go to your apartement at midnight after finding out where you live. peeking through the window to what you were doing only to find you dressing in a short pastel rainbow dress lingerie with big bows placed in the back of your hair, dancing to some songs.. and oh my god he cant even explain how much he want to ripped those colorful dress lingerie off your body. he has no doubt at all that you have the most beautiful body he would ever sees in his entire life.

As he drown himself in his own thoughts until he heard a telephone ring -- it was your friend! your male friend! as you picked the phone up, talking with your friends, while he sees with his own eyes about the way you laugh softly at what-god-knows your friend was muttering to you. he doesnt and he would rather bury himself alive than admitting about the fact that he was really, really, envy and jealous. as he harshly breath at you, while all his body is literally focus with you. his eyes seeing you from head-to-toe, his ears listening carefully about the conversation you're having as his mouth try to resist to open it again because well um -- he is quite the drooling over there. that was it until you start to walk towards the front door where he was outside!!

As he sees you carefully, while hiding himself in the corner, and focused on the door handle you're about to open. until........

Until he quickly enough to put his arms and placed it onto your mouth, shuting you up until you passed out and bring you to your new home his home. as he open the bondage he placed at your mouth, and pinch your chubby cheeks until he sees your whimpering again. thats it! thats the thing that always drove him mad everydsy everynight. thinking about you whimper at whatever he was doing was like a holy candle for him. he then stood himself up, looking at your half unconscious body, and then start to strip you... to naked.

As he softly ripped all the dress lingerie you weared, and after he got the look at your boobs, he slowly put his hands up at where your nipples on, and start playing with it. while his eyes focused on your face, waiting the reaction he have been wait. and until then... you are moaning. honestly he have been thinking that he was in a dream that time. i mean -- he do have seen you moan by the way he always check on you secretly.. but he never except his own self to be the only one who could capable enough to hear your soft moan. as he sped up the phase of his hands playing your nipple, while his own other hand strat to undress himself.

And until he and your own finally completely naked. and... oh god to be damned. he swear he always sees you at some kind of whore while your other friend sees you just as an innocent normal girl, and he always have no doubt about his feelings That you have such an erotic body and at the end.. he was actually right. you do have a very very.. pleaseable body. as he placed his hands into your half unconscious body, lowering it until his hands touch your private part -- your pussy. he slowly but surely put his 3 long fingers in to play with you, and to be surprised or.. shocked even, that you are so so fucking damn tight! he even sure that your pussy is one of the most tightest thing he'd ever placed his hands on, as he quickly sped-ing up his pace at playing your pussy, watching you moan and whimper become one, he cant believe what he saw. you're literally still half unconscious! but yet you somehow still manage to bring out the sound he would die for with! at this rate he doesnt know if he wants to wake you up or just let you still be half unconscious so when you wake up, you're gonna have a some extra surprised with your naked body that has been covered with his cums. as he thinking about it while he placed his (quite big) cock at your pussy. trying to rip those tight wall of your pussy off. thats what he was trying to do until your pussy start showing a little drop of blood out of it.

Oh.. he get it.. yeah he actually get it. You're a Virgin arent you? oh.. such sweet cheeks.. well too bad yoi're going to give all of your innocents left as his own hands and dicks. the body of someone you dont even know at all. he actually felt (just a little) bit of guilt. but who cares anyway? you're literally still half unconscious! as he said it to himself while he tried his possible to pound your ass up at your fat pussy. going in and up in every corner. at first it was slowly, but then he start to change the position into a mating press just so the cums and the blood are still there. as he quickly but surely speeding his pace up like a mad man. at this rate he was at the edge of doesnt gave a fuck about the fact that you're still half unconscious but then he's also at the edge of shock and unbelief because of how you are still not waking up at his pounding.

And all of those pounding ends when his cock start to dried out with how your fat pussy suck all his cums and sperma in. pulling his cock out of your pussy only to see the view of the inside of your pussy, being drown with his cums. as his hands hold your body up just so all the cums he had restored isnt goung to spill. and until then he slowly put his hands down, letting your body down into the mating press position, watching your pussy spilling all of his cums like a fucking waterfall. (his cum waterfall) and then he placed his palm hands at your cheeks softly, while quietly muttering about how he would take care of you, and keeping you safe and that you wouldnt need to be scared of him (even after all his done to you) as he placed his other hand at your undressed belly, and then stroke it with such gentleness because he knew that right now, right at the almost-morning time, that you're going to be swellen with thousands - thousands of his sperm, and at the end of the month, he would see you placed your own hands at your bellies who at that time was full with his kid. oh how he cant wait... he just hope that you wouldnt be freaked out about the fact that you just found yourself in a unrecognizeable place with a literal fucking stranger who is now has placed a baby inside of you. yes, a baby -- his baby.

TSUKISHIMA KEI, ITOSHI RIN, MEGUMI, Itachi, Shikamaru, Nanami, Neji, Tobirama, Deku, KUNIMI, Muichiro, SEMI EITA, Konoha Akinori, Venti, XIAO, AL-HAITAM, Akaashi, KOZUME KENMA, & hatake kakashi.

did i forgeting anyone? insert ur fav!

Dolliestfairy's © Works. Do Not Repost My Creation at Any Platfroms Without My Permission.

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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago

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"Safe and sound....Kinda" pt. 2

You went M.I.A. and the LADS Men are stressed!

Xavier

"It's been almost a week Jeremiah we need to check places the hunter association won't look" Xavier was already on the move heading towards the first No-hunt Zone of many. Jeremiah trailed behind him almost jogging trying to keep up.

"I understand that Xavier, but you're not in the right head space to-" Jeremiah swallows his words when Xavier whipped around abruptly getting in his face. "to what? Find the love of my life? I'm done waiting around twiddling my thumbs she could be out there dying for all we know"

Xavier turned on his heels and continued on his path "If your way of helping is planting seeds of doubt then don't follow me"

After two days of non-stop searching he did it. In the deepest parts of the forest Xavier found himself at the tip of your Hunters sword nearly taking his head off. His eyes widened in shock just as yours did when you realized who you were looking at "Xav......?" Your words faded as you dropped your sword and fell into his chest almost knocking him over.

"Where have you been? What are you doing in this zone its dangerous"

"I got pulled into a rift I've been fighting alone for five days" Your breathing was labored before you began to cough. Xavier flinched from the death grip you had on his arm as you tried to keep yourself upright. That's when he noticed your ripped clothes. Since when was your uniform so short and revealing?

It wasn't.

You'd been tearing your clothes to bandage your wounds, but they weren't doing so well considering they were soaked through in old and fresh blood. Your shoes were missing along with your socks. "I kept fighting because I knew...." A cough tore from your chest making your throat burn as you coughed up blood. "....I knew you'd find me" Your grip loosened as you went slack in his arms.

"Of course I'd find you" Xavier managed you wrangle you onto his back as he sent his coordinates to Jeremiah to come and pick the two of you up. "Just hang on a little longer"

Sylus

You dragged your shoulder along the wall of a back alleyway before dropping falling flat on the ground. You don't know how many days it's been since you told Sylus you'd be back in less than a day. Your vision blurred as your head swam from exhaustion and dehydration.

"I see her!" That voice sounds familiar....

You feel two sets of hands on you pulling you into a sitting position, but your head is so heavy. "Just let me sleep for a while"

"No you have to stay up Boss is almost here" Luke?

"Stay with us" Kieran?

You felt that comforting red and black mist engulf you and soon you were cradled in Sylus' arms. If you didn't know any better you'd say Sylus looked as if he'd been crying. His eyes seemed bloodshot, but what do you know you can barely keep your eyes open. You're probably seeing things.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I dropped my phone & a wanderer shattered my watch .... along with my wrist .... I figured if I got close enough to the N109 Zone .... you would find me" A weak smile graced your lips. "Looks like I was right"

"Let's get you home" He whispered and it was the last thing you heard before your head bobbed one last time and darkness consumed you.

Sylus made sure you had the best medical care money can buy while staying in the comfort of his king sized bed. He wouldn't leave your side as you slowly recovered. "Were you crying over me?"

"Shut up and take your pain meds"

Sylus is hard to write because that man got Mephisto on our ass 24/7

Zayne & Rafayel here ♡

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads xavier #lnds xavier #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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a-b-riddle · 2 months ago

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Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #kidnapping #dark fic #pregnancy

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aestherin · 4 months ago

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KEEP MY HEART

goal 32: you but in meow

NOTE: i finally finished despite procrastinating hehe this was sitting in my drafts for more than a week help me 😭

You probably should have told Scaramouche that you have already arrived at the home address he sent.

If you did so, maybe you wouldn’t be outright welcomed by his mother instantly opening the door after a few knocks.

You’ve already seen her before during some of their games, albeit from a far distance. She looked pretty from afar, yes. But she was heavenly up close. With her long deep violet locks weaved into a simple braid, her perfect skin that gives no evidence of her being a mother of a boy already in college, and her electrifying eyes… you’re starting to realize where Scaramouche got the godly genes from.

“Good afternoon, uh— madam?” You greeted awkwardly. “I’m here to visit Scara, no, Kunikuzushi. He’s a… friend!”

At your introduction, the older woman let you inside their home and motioned you to sit on the sofa. She swiftly made her way back and forth the kitchen and provided you with a tray containing some drinks and some snacks.

You told her that she didn’t have to, but she only smiled in response. As she sat down in front of you, you started to drink from the glass, only so that you can find something to distract yourself from the awkwardness.

“So that’s why your built looked familiar. You’re probably the same woman I saw in the pictures with my son. You’re his girlfriend, right?”

You coughed.

Before you can even reply, Scaramouche’s mother motioned upstairs. “Nevermind that, I don’t want to keep you for long. My son’s room is upstairs, first door from the left.”

“Also,” she lightly muttered as you were getting ready to go upstairs. “Please do treat my son well. I’ve put him through a lot, you see.”

An apologetic smile was plastered on his mother’s face. Was this what Scaramouche meant when he was messaging you? Was his mother somehow enlightened and came to a realization about their issues? You wanted to know, but you didn’t want to pry.

Besides, the main reason why you came here was so that you could uplift Scaramouche’s mood.

“I will.”

Meanwhile, Scaramouche was cooped up in his room, restless. He’d admit it to no one, but anxiety was slowly creeping in his heart at your lack of replies to his message. Why did you suddenly stop replying? Were you getting to him safely? Did you somehow get lost and went to some place with no reception?

‘Damn it, I should’ve just picked her up,’ he thought.

‘Should I call her?’

‘But what if —‘

Three knocks brought his thoughts to a halt. “Kuni? It’s me, [Name].”

Of course it’s you. You're the only one allowed to call him that anyway.

Heavy and hurried footsteps stemmed from the other side of the door once you made your presence known.

“[Name],” he breathed immediately upon swinging his door.

You were welcomed by his disheveled yet still attractive appearance as well as the sight of his room — simple yet stylish with tints of mainly white, black, and blue. The room looked so cold, yet the comforts of his white bed helped it seem warmer. Apart from that however, a warm and furry feeling on your legs also welcomed you.

“Meow.”

You broke eye contact with Scaramouche and instead took a peek at what the little ball of black fur was doing below. His cat (as you assumed) was now cuddling you, purring restlessly against your feet.

“That’s weird.”

“Huh?”

“He usually doesn’t like strangers,” Scaramouche said.

He then eyed you as you crouched down to pick up his cat. “Well you see Kuni, they said cats tend to mirror the personalities of their owner.”

“Who the fuck even said that?” He raised his brow. “And even if that’s true, so what?”

“Well you like me, so of course Scarameow likes me.”

Scaramouche huffed. “Scarameow?”

“You didn’t give him a name, right? I feel bad not calling him anything, so I just thought of that on the spot.” You grinned. “Besides, it seems like he likes it.”

You cut yourself off by lightly poking the black cat’s nose. “Don’t you, Scarameow?”

The man just sighed at the approving purr of his own pet. He was left speechless by how easily his cat warmed up to you. It really weirded him out, considering that it was the very same cat that always just hisses at other people aside from his owner.

“But why that… horrendous name?”

You looked back at him only to flash a disapproving frown. “Horrendous? Isn’t it cute?”

“No.”

“What?” You gasped. “Can’t you see he’s literally a cat version of you?”

“It’s like he’s you… but in meow…”

He speedily brought his palm up to his lips in an attempt to conceal something. It was a poor attempt, however, as the muffled noises he tried so hard to stop forced their way out.

And for the first time in so long, he finally laughed.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

NOTE: my reference for thinking of scara's bedroom haha >> [click here]

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

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russo-woso · 4 months ago

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I need help || Leah Williamson

Request | Masterlist | prompt list

Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus

Summary Pregnancy brings many different feelings, some where you need help.

You were coming up six months pregnant.

Although the pregnancy had been a smooth process so far, there were a few downfalls that made it hard.

For instance, your emotions.

The hormones had thrown your hormones everywhere.

One minute, you were crying, the second you were smiling and laughing.

But there was one emotion that came quite often and was strong.

You were always horny.

But you pushed it to the side, thinking it would hurt the baby.

However, one day when a strong need crashed over you, you googled it, reading that it was perfectly normal to feel how you did and that it was safe for the baby.

That night, you laid in bed next to Leah, partly naked due to her having given you a massage.

Still horny as ever, You rested your head on Leah’s chest, your hand rubbing up and down her side.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Leah asked, clearly noticing something’s wrong.

“I need you, Leah.” You whisper, connecting your lips together in a passionate kiss.

“Babe, we can’t…” Leah began but you cut her off by kissing her again.

“We can. I googled it. It’s safe for bubba.” You told her with a firm voice.

“What about you though. The last time we did something, you were in pain.” Leah pointed out, pulling you onto her lap.

“Yes I was a bit uncomfortable but I want this Leah, I need it.” You explained and she nodded understanding the situation.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll help you. I’ll find a way. Come, lay down on the bed.” Leah said, helping you lay down, your back hitting the pillows gently.

Leah pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, your body melting into the bed at the feeling.

You’d wanted this for months and it was finally happening.

Her lips trailed down to your neck, softly sucking at your sweet spot.

“Feels good.” You murmured, your hand striking her baby hairs on her neck.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. So good.”

“Please do, le.”

Leah’s lips travelled down your bump until they were at the top of your bump.

“Maybe close your ears for a while, bubba.” Leah whispered, a smirk resting on her lips.

Pressing a feather light kiss to your bump, she spread your knees apart.

“Keep them there, love.” Leah said

“Fuck.” You gasped as you felt Leah’s tongue connect with your clit.

Lapping over it gently, Leah reached up to hold your hands, her thumbs rubbing over them delicately.

“That feels so good, le. Please don’t stop.” You told her, gripping her hands.

“Tastes so good.” Leah mumbled, groaning into your pussy.

“Le, my back hurts.” You said, moving your back to try get comfortable.

“Okay, baby. Just a minute.” Leah smiled, reaching over to put more pillows behind your back.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t say sorry, pretty girl.” Leah pressed a kiss to your chest before lowering herself.

Gently placing a kiss to your clit, she began to suck making you let out a cry.

“Fuck, right there.” You groaned, reaching out to grab her hair. “Please don’t stop, le.”

“I won’t, pretty girl, I promise.” Leah said, vibrations coursing through your body.

“I’m so close.” You warned her, pushing her head more into your pussy.

“Cum, love, cum for me.”

That’s all it took. Your juices flowed into Leah’s awaiting mouth.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, a relieved smile on your face.

“Feel better?” Leah asked and you nodded immediately.

“Loads, thank you, le.”

“I wasn’t too hard was I?” Leah questioned, coming to lay down next to you.

“You were perfect.” You replied, resting a hand on her cheek and slowly bringing her in for a slow kiss.

“I love you and our bubba.” Leah mumbled against your lips as she broke away from the kiss.

“We love you too.”

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso smut #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson smut #leah williamson fanfic

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pedrospatch · 7 months ago

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a safe haven l ten

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze.

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

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writeonwhiskey · 1 month ago

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the skz house: ch 31

a/n: the word count on this chapter is 8,729. i kept adding to it and tweaking it for so long, but i am happy with this conclusion to the story. thank you to @bahablastplz and @chanssoftgalaxy for editing!

[ read chapter 30 here ]

Chapter Thirty-One: Of Vets and Contracts

It takes a while for you to compose yourself during the ride to your new apartment. The driver, an older gentleman in his 40’s—if you had to take a guess—makes no attempt at small talk. He keeps music playing softly in the background and at one point produces a small pack of tissues for you. You accept them and thank him, ripping open the pack to dab at your eyes.

He pulls into the parking lot, coming to a stop in front of the leasing office. You let out a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself before exiting the vehicle.

“I just need to get the key, and then I’ll come back to take everything out,” you stop at his rolled down window to speak to him.

“I’ll be taking care of that for you, sweetheart.” he replies.

You furrow your brow as a wave of panic courses through you. No doubt thanks to you and Hyunjin having started watching Abyss the other night. You can almost see the headlines now—Girl Moving Into New Apartment Brutally Murdered By Her Driver. You’d taken the safety for granted you felt living with your ex and then at the SKZ House. You’ve never been on your own like this.

“That’s okay but thank you,” you politely decline his offer.

“Well, that young man gave me a couple hundred bucks to do all the heavy lifting for you,” he informs you.

Realization dawns on you then: that’s what Chan must have gone up to talk to him about. Still, it leaves you feeling uneasy to accept a stranger’s help. Not to mention letting him know where you are going to be living, by yourself.

“He told me to text him once you made it here safely,” he continues, “and was extremely clear that if I tried anything immoral, he and every other one of those guys at that house would come find me and make me regret it. Said they have the resources to do it, too.”

You let out a small laugh and shake your head at that. It fills your heart to know Chan wanted to ensure you were taken care of, since he can’t be here to do it himself. Yet, it also pains you to think you can’t even text Chan or Hyunjin yourself to let them know you’ve made it here.

“I have a wife and kids to make it home to. I think they will appreciate it if I’m still alive when I show up.”

You offer him a kind smile, but still choose to exercise caution.

“You can take them to the elevator inside, but I’ll get them the rest of the way.”

“Deal,” he nods and exits the car.

As you walk towards the leasing office, he starts taking your belongings out and carrying them into the actual apartment building.

An hour later, you have the key to your new place and have brought everything inside. At first, you just stand there. Alone. It feels eerie. It’s too quiet. You’re tempted to throw yourself on the bed and lose yourself in the sadness of it all, but you resist. You have to be productive.

You get to work unpacking, stopping occasionally to compile an amazon order for groceries and household items you’ll need whenever they come to mind. It isn’t until around 9:00pm, when you’ve ordered takeout and you’re sitting on the sofa, eating in silence that everything starts to hit you again.

The tears come out in waves and you push your food aside, suddenly losing your appetite. You hug your knees to your chest, rocking yourself and willing the thoughts and memories to simply erase themselves from your mind. But they’re not going anywhere. Not for a while.

As time passes, you start adjusting to your new normal. You have the bus times memorized to make it to class on time and some days you splurge on an Uber. For a while you feel nervous about crossing paths with any of the members, although you don’t have classes with any of them this semester and it’s a huge campus. You hadn’t run into them often before, why would you now?

So, of course, it happens when you least expect it. You spot Seungmin in the cafeteria with other players on the baseball team one day. He locks eyes with you, offers a subtle smile and a wink before turning his attention to the group. It’s over so quickly, you don’t have time to wave or smile back. He doesn’t look your way again.

The days turn to weeks and Chan’s last words to you play on a loop in your head, whenever you’re alone. They leave you feeling hopeful for a call or text or knock on the door, but it never happens.

The one surprise you do get is a large envelope in your mailbox one day. There’s no return address but your name is written on it, and you immediately recognize the handwriting as Hyunjin’s. Your heart starts racing as you make a dash up the stairs, not wanting to wait around for the elevator. As soon as you’re inside your apartment you tear open the package and pull out the sketch paper inside.

There’s a post-it note on the back that you see first which reads ‘Breaking the rules one last time. Happy Birthday’. Your face instantly contorts as you flip it over to see a charcoal mixed with watercolor portrait. You examine the image closely—it’s definitely supposed to be you, but this is how Hyunjin sees you. He somehow captured a beauty within you that you’re unable to see in your own reflection. There’s a sparkle in your eyes, a coy smile on your lips, and beautiful, vibrant splotches of blue and purple surround you. It’s breathtaking. You have to hold it away from you to avoid ruining it with your tears.

In the back of your mind, you can’t help but wonder if Chan will send you something, too.

He never does.

The last month and a half of the school year, you start spending time with some of your old friends again. They poke and pry to get information out of you about your time at the infamous SKZ House, but you never say a word. You can’t, really, but you wouldn’t even if you could.

When graduation comes around, your eyes constantly roam the packed auditorium. The seating arrangement is split up by degree type, and you have no idea where the Business majors are. You do, however, spot your parents in the stands and give them a wave. They were certainly not pleased when they found out you’d been living on your own all this time without telling them, but they were proud of you for making it work, nonetheless. Of course, you left out the part about spending seven months living with eight men, to spare their sanity.

Your name is called, and you walk across the stage—the roar of applause is much louder than you expected. And though you can’t see them amongst the sea of faces, you know it’s them. You accept the congratulatory document from the Dean, pose for a picture, then return to your seat.

Your knee starts bouncing uncontrollably when they announce the Business majors are next. As they line up to approach the stage, you finally see them, lined up alphabetically amongst the other graduates. Chan, Minho, Hyunjin and Changbin. Your heart starts to flutter at the sight of them looking all studious in their cap and gowns.

You may not be permitted to speak to them, but you sure as hell can support them, as they’ve always done for you. You watch in a trance, cheering and clapping as loud as you can, as each of them cross the stage. This is, after all, probably the last time you’ll ever see any of them.

ONE YEAR LATER

Deep inhale. Long exhale.

You got this.

You repeat the phrase in your head like a mantra.

“It’s your show today, y/n. Tell us what you need.”

You nod curtly in response to Dr. Hayes. You expected to feel more nervous—heart palpitations, perspiration…but you don’t feel any of that. You are incredibly calm and focused, most of which you attribute to having had Dr. Hayes as your mentor this past year. You’ve watched and helped her spay and neuter plenty of cats and dogs, but this is your first time performing it solo.

Your patient is Buster, a four-month-old tabby cat. He was not happy upon his arrival and has already been given a small dose of sedatives to stop him from hissing and clawing any time someone approaches. The veterinary assistant is currently shaving and sterilizing his left paw as well as the surgical surface area in preparation for you.

It’s hard to believe that you’ve finally reached this moment—that it’s been one year since you graduated and 14 months since…

No, you can’t allow yourself to go down that road today. Not right now.

Dr. Hayes observes from a distance as you administer the anesthesia to Buster. All the other equipment is prepped as you monitor his vitals and make sure he’s ready for the operation. You give her another curt nod when you’re ready to begin and she says nothing as you get to work, calling out the equipment needed and the steps you’re taking.

“Excellent incision, y/n,” she comments.

You smile behind your surgical mask at the praise, but don’t let it distract you. The procedure is fairly quick—but you take your time to ensure it’s done correctly. After twenty minutes, Buster has been snipped, sutured, and moved back to the recovery area. You stay in the operating room with Dr. Hayes, removing your gloves and mask, positively beaming.

“Remember this moment,” she tells you as you wash your hands together side by side at the sink. “Your first solo surgery—and you nailed it. You’re going to do amazing things, y/n.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hayes,” you tell her.

Catelyn, the receptionist, pokes her head in through the door just then.

“Uhm…Doc?”

“Everything okay?”

“This guy says he needs a checkup for his dog before they fly back home, but it’s past the time we accept walk-ins. He’s making it sound urgent, though.”

“That’s not a problem, we can do it.”

“But…he’s asking specifically for y/n,” her eyes flicker over to you.

You furrow your brow at that.

“Why me?”

“He wouldn’t say,” she shrugs.

“You got this,” Dr. Hayes offers a reassuring nod. “I’ll check on Buster. Call me if you need me.”

You follow Catelyn out to the front waiting area, wondering what’s going on. You haven’t exactly made a name for yourself in the veterinary world that someone would come in here and ask for you specifically.

“Ah, shit,” you hear someone say, followed by the sound of objects clattering on the floor.

Your ears perk up. You know that accent…you know that voice.

Your eyes are then drawn to the dog on top of the counter, sniffing the area where countless other animals have been placed. Her fur is predominantly white with light brown patches along her back, surrounding her eyes and covering her ears.

You know this dog. You’ve seen this dog…but never in person.

Your eyes dance around the room for the owner as your heartbeat picks up in a way it hasn’t in over a year...but you don’t see him. But you did hear him, right?

You let out a sigh and shake your head. You haven’t experienced a phantom event like this—hearing his voice—in such a long time. A twinge of disappointment rattles you, and you’re puzzled by it. Both the feeling and this predicament. Perhaps this dog just looks familiar. There are plenty of King Charles Spaniels out there. But Catelyn did say someone asked for you…

And then, from beneath the counter he rises.

“Sorry, knocked these over,” he says, trying to put all the pens back into the jar where they’re kept.

Your eyes roam over his face, instantly drawn into strikingly handsome features. He’s wearing a black ball cap with his dark curls poking out in tufts beneath it. His russet brown eyes are alight with a twinkle that wasn’t there the last time you saw him, the nose he loved to hate, but you adored so much, and those plump pink lips. Oh, how you dreamed of those lips. Pressed against yours, kissing every inch of your body.

He doesn’t look the same as you remember. He looks even better than what your memory could recall. Since you couldn’t take any pictures of the members while in the house, that was one thing you struggled with the most—their faces started to fade with time.

“Chan?” you say in disbelief.

Maybe it’s a doppelganger…somehow here with a doppelganger Berry, too.

But when his eyes snap over to you, you know it’s him. You know instantly by the way your body forgets how to handle normal functions, like breathing. You’re momentarily paralyzed. You’re trapped in his gaze, unable to look away…not wanting to look away. The building could catch on fire right now and you wouldn’t have clue, wouldn’t be able to drag yourself to safety.

The thoughts you pushed out of your mind earlier come crashing back with a vengeance. The same thoughts that cause you so much pain and joy when you think of them—Chan, Hyunjin…everyone in the house. You missed them terribly, at first. Alone in your studio apartment, you often cried yourself to sleep over what you abruptly left behind. The first couple of months were the hardest. However, eventually you were able to get past it. After graduation, you kept in touch with the other girls for a little while, but eventually life dragged you all in different directions.

You focused all your attention on your studies and the vet program, keeping yourself so busy that you didn’t even have time to think about anything else. Memories would creep in occasionally, usually happy ones, and you were able to accept them for what they were and keep going about your day. Other times, though, you’d be plagued with wondering what they were doing now, who they were with, and if they had found anyone else.

You tried dating. Once. He was nice…but with everything you had going on, he simply wasn’t a priority, nor did he hold your attention or satiate your desires. Not in the way Chan had, simply by being near you. You feel the familiar emotions only he can evoke from you begin to stir, and you suddenly feel warm.

What is he doing here? Your inner voice of reason steps into the spotlight. There’s no way he should be here asking for you. How did he even know where to find you? Perhaps your first surgery was actually a disaster. You accidentally injected yourself with the anesthesia and you’re dreaming. That has to be it. Although tragic, that would make more sense.

“Y/n, you okay?” Catelyn asks.

You blink at him standing in front of you, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I got it, Cat. Thanks,” you lie.

You’re not fine. Your body is very much on edge, in fight or flight mode.

Catelyn nods and scurries off to the back.

“What are you doing here?” you ask incredulously.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” he feigns offense while smiling.

That fucking smile. You never thought you’d see it again. It conjures up the long dormant butterflies in your stomach, sending them into a frenzy. You are not prepared for this.

Berry yips and you instinctively go to her, stroking her soft fur. It feels surreal, looking down at her in real life after only seeing her pictures and videos and hearing the stories Chan told you about her. Her curious brown eyes look up at you as she sits on the counter. You rub behind her ears, and she scoots closer to you, moving her head around to sniff you.

“She likes you,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again, looking back up at him.

“We’re flying home in a few days and the airline requires a certificate issued by a veterinarian for pets traveling internationally.”

You have so many questions at that—who is we? How long has he been here? What brought him back?

“But…why here?” you attempt to clarify.

“Dr. Hayes is USDA certified, right?”

“Chan…”

“I wanted to see you,” he finally admits.

Again, so many questions rush through your head in an instant. You had done so well putting the thought of him in the back of your mind, burying it deeper and deeper with each passing day. To see him again like this, caught so off guard, is unnerving.

“Is this even allowed?” you ask warily.

“Well, technically Berry needs this to get back home. And it’s the perfect excuse to come see you.”

You sigh softly. What are you meant to do with that response? You’re not supposed to have any contact with him, or you could face legal action. That thought sparks a bit of anger within you. Why would he put you in this position? Maybe he hadn’t learned anything after all.

“We close soon,” you tell him, “This is extremely last minute, Chan.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I was hoping to catch you at the end of the workday and take you to dinner after…to catch up.”

You blink at him again. Not even five minutes into seeing him and he’s already got your head spinning. He’s behaving way too cavalier for the consequences and repercussions this little visit could have on you. And he wants to just take you to dinner?

Instead of responding, you shift into work mode. The front counter has a slightly lowered section, where Berry is sitting, that serves as a scale for smaller animals. You turn it on, keeping her attention on you as you weigh her, then go to the computer to start entering the information from the paperwork Chan had filled out. He moves in front of Berry, and she takes a few steps across the counter to him, tail wagging as she stands on her hind legs, pawing at his shirt. He hugs her to him, rubbing her back and talking to her sweetly.

When you’re done at the computer, you walk back to them and extend your hand for Berry’s collar, which he hands to you. You gently pick her up and she nestles into your arms, head moving around as she continues to take in her surroundings.

“Dr. Hayes has to complete this…I’ll be back in a second—wait outside.”

You turn and exit the main room. Walking down the hall towards the backroom, you feel like you can take a breath for the first time since you saw him. You find Dr. Hayes and explain the situation to her. Thankfully, she agrees to handle it on such short notice. You pass Berry to her and make your way back to the front.

You exit the building to find Chan and spot him sitting on the curb next to a black Tesla. You walk to the car and lean against the passenger door, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you look down at him.

He’s looking up at you with a smile on his face, eyes raking over yours, down your body, then back up again, making you feel very much like a meal he could easily devour.

Would you let him?

The fact that you have to question your resolve and all the work you’ve done to put him in the past after just one look is upsetting. His showing up so randomly makes you think you’ll have to start the process of forgetting him all over again. And it may hurt even worse this time around, which only stokes the flame of anger brewing inside of you.

“How have you been?” he asks casually.

“Good, I guess,” you answer with a shrug. “Why did you come here?”

“I really did want to see you, y/n, is that so hard to believe? I’ve missed you,” he stands from the curb and walks towards you.

You should probably put a hand up to stop him from getting too close, but you don’t. You can’t. Your body wants him nearby. His presence is like a drug you’ve gone too long without, and you were once an addict.

He stops in front of you, close enough for you to inhale his scent. He smells different. A new body wash or cologne, perhaps. It’s nice.

“You came to find me under the guise of needing this certificate for Berry?” you ask to make sure you understand him correctly. “Where are your parents? I don’t want to get into any trouble for this.”

You can only assume they’re here too—why else would he have the family dog with him?

“You won’t,” he shakes his head. “My parents are preoccupied, it’s fine.”

“Is it? I don’t understand, Chan. It was stated quite plainly that we could not see each other again…why would you do this? You shouldn’t be sneaking around to find me.”

“It’s a lot to explain,” he says. “I could elaborate over dinner. If you’ll let me take you.”

You remain quiet at that, looking down at your feet. Your body and heart are screaming for you to say yes whilst your brain is warning you to be cautious, to protect yourself.

He hooks a finger under your chin and your insides begin to churn at the physical contact. He tilts your head up and when your eyes meet again, it takes everything in you to resist launching yourself forward to embrace and kiss him.

“What was the last thing I said to you?” he asks.

You chew on your bottom lip, you remember what he said all too clearly. It was those three words that made moving on so difficult. They kept you up at night, wondering if there would be a knock at your door, but there never was. Those three words made it feel impossible to move on at first, and it broke you to have to chop it up as an empty promise. After a few months without hearing anything from him, you had to start putting him behind you, for your own sake.

“This isn’t over,” you finally answer him.

“And I meant that,” he cups your face gently in his hands. “I know it’s a lot so suddenly, but I couldn’t contact you or find you until I was sure about a few things.”

He piques your interest with that, but you’re still unsure if this is a good idea.

“Let me take you to dinner when you’re off,” he continues, “I promise I’ll explain everything and after that, if you never want to see me again, I’ll accept it.”

“Yeah…you’re so good at accepting my decisions, aren’t you?” you ask with an arched brow.

“I’ve grown,” he drops his hands to his sides with a soft smile.

He takes the smallest step closer to you, and you feel his hips against yours causing your breath to get caught in your throat. This isn’t fair. How can he undo literal months of progress in under twenty minutes?

“Let me take you to dinner. Please.”

You stay quiet as you mull over his offer. It would probably be best to just give Berry back to him when Dr. Hayes is done and act like this never happened, go back to the life you’ve created without him. But standing here, this close to him, how could you decline? You want to know what he’s been up to, what they’ve all been up to, and most of all how and why he tracked you down.

“Okay,” you finally say, to which he smiles widely again. “I’ll come back out with Berry in a few minutes.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Thirty minutes later, you’re riding in Chan’s presumably rented car, with Berry seated comfortably in your lap, wondering what the fuck is going on as he navigates seamlessly through the streets.

“We’ll drop her off first then go eat, yeah?”

“Sure,” you shrug absentmindedly.

Your brain is running at what feels like a thousand miles per minute with thoughts. You’re just going with the flow at this point, feeling wildly out of control of the entire situation. It’s been a while since you felt this way; letting someone else take the reins. A large part of surviving this past year was due to relying heavily on structure and routine.

Chan brings the car to a stop in front of a hotel downtown. You see a dark haired, fair-skinned female in sunglasses, baggy jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt walking towards the car.

“That’s my sister,” he nods to the woman while unlocking the doors.

Your eyes open wide. Sister? As in Hannah? Now you really don’t understand what’s happening. How can he be taking you anywhere near his family?

She approaches the car and reaches for the door handle, swinging it wide open. She lowers herself a bit and pushes her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, peering at you over them. Berry instantly stands in your lap, panting and wagging her tail, but doesn’t make a move to jump out of the car.

“This is her?” she asks in a thick Australian accent.

Chan nods.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

You feel terribly under dressed in your scrubs compared to how fashionable she seems.

“’sup,” she replies coolly. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

“You too?” it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

How does she even know who you are?

She extends her arms forward to take Berry from you, cradling her like a baby.

“You kids have fun—don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she says, taking a step back onto the sidewalk. “Which isn’t much.”

She throws a wink at you before pushing up her sunglasses.

“Hannah—gross,” Chan chastises her and she just shrugs.

“See you later,” she replies with a wave before turning around and sauntering into the hotel.

“She’s a nuisance,” Chan says as you close the door.

He puts the car into drive and takes off down the street.

“You hungry for anything in particular?”

“I’m not hungry for anything at all, if I’m being honest. I’m just confused as fuck right now, Chan.”

“Do you want to come up to my room?”

He’s stopped at a red light, and you look over to him. Your heart starts beating furiously behind your chest at the proposition. And, also, remembering the events that took place the last time you were in a hotel room together. Talking to him in a private room sounds much more appealing than in a public restaurant, though.

“Okay,” you reply.

He rolls down your window a bit, honks the horn and waves his hand to get the attention of the driver next to you. The window of the expensive looking, grey SUV rolls down to reveal an attractive woman.

“Mind if I cut in front of you? I need to turn here.” He throws a dashing smile at her.

“That’s fine,” she says, with a flirtatious smile.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“Oh, you’re welc—” her reply is cut off as he rolls the window back up.

When the light turns green, Chan accelerates to maneuver in front of her and turns into the parking garage. He takes the car to the valet and your door is promptly opened by an employee. You step out of the vehicle and Chan is at your side in seconds, taking your hand in his as he passes them the key fob.

He pulls you towards the hotel and you blindly put your trust in him to guide you safely, since you can’t stop looking down at your joined hands. Another sight you didn’t think you’d see again. You don’t look up until you’re in the elevator.

“You swear this is okay?” you ask.

“Of course…you’re safe with me.”

You want to believe him so badly.

He presses the button to his floor and turns around to face you, his back to the doors. He cups your face, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumb.

“You have no idea how much restraint I’ve had to exercise since seeing you,” he whispers. “I missed you so fucking much, y/n.”

You nuzzle your face against his right hand, allowing his words to wash over you. He starts to lean closer to you, and you feel yourself moving towards him too. What’s the point in resisting? Every part of you missed him just as much. You already know you’ll have to start the Chan-detox process again so, even if it’s just for a night, maybe you can get your fix of him.

Just as his lips brush against yours, the elevator chimes and the doors open again. Chan spins around and steps back, realizing you’re not on the correct floor.

“Going down?” the man outside the elevator asks.

“Up. Sorry mate.”

Chan presses the button to close the doors and resume your upward journey. He turns back around to face you, cupping your face in his again. This time, though, in a moment of clarity you resist, turning your head away from him slightly, eyes downcast.

“Fuck,” he says, seeing your response. “I’m gonna fuck this up because I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

He drops his hands from your face and takes a step to the side. He turns around to face the doors, looking down at the ground.

“I really missed you,” he mumbles. “In every way you can miss a person.”

There he goes. Saying the sweetest things that make you want to melt.

“I missed you too,” you admit. “I just…I don’t know if any of this is a good idea or not.”

The elevator chimes again and the doors open. Chan looks up to confirm you’re on the right floor before stepping out and holding the door open for you.

“Let’s get inside. I’ll keep my hands to myself, unless you say otherwise.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll drive you home with my hands at two and ten the entire way.”

You chuckle at that.

He stops in front of a door near the end of the hall and takes a keycard from his pocket. He uses it to unlock the door and pushes it open for you to enter first.

You step inside and walk down the short hallway. The room is massive, initially making you panic at the thought of who else is staying here. This still feels wrong and sneaky in so many ways that you cannot afford to be in trouble for.

“Are you staying here with your family?”

“Mom, Dad and Lucas are a few floors up. Hannah is down the hall,” he tells you. “Relax, I promise it’s okay. Take a seat.”

You sit down on the sofa, attempting to relax. He sits next to you, leaving mere inches between you, but he keeps his hands to himself. Still, it’s not enough to calm your nerves.

“You keep saying it’s okay, but I don’t understand how it can be.”

“I’ll answer any questions you have,” he moves back a little so he can turn to face you, one leg resting on the couch.

“How long have you been in town?”

“A few weeks…for Jeongin, Seungmin, Han and Felix’s graduation. Everyone is here.”

Everyone? Your first thought is of Hyunjin. You’ve missed him so much, too. You think of the portrait he sent you and how you could never bring yourself to frame it and display it anywhere. You wished so badly that you could thank him for it.

“How are they?” you ask softly.

“The kids?” you nod. “They’re good. Everyone’s just trotting on the path laid out before us.”

You resist the urge to scrunch your face up at that. It never quite sat right with you that their lives are so heavily planned out for them. It reminds you, though, that even Chan is subjected to that. As much as he’s trying to make you believe otherwise right now, whatever he wanted to find you for is moot. You still cannot be together. His parents would never approve of you.

“I spent the majority of my time here trying to track you down, you know,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you went to vet school somewhere close to home.”

“The programs here are better,” you tell him with a shrug. “Why did you need to find me?”

“I told you this wasn’t over, y/n. I’ve spent the past year fighting for this…for us.”

You furrow your brow.

“There is no ‘us’…there can’t be. I assumed you would move on like I had to. We can’t pretend we have any other options.”

He lifts his hand as if he’s going to reach for you but catches himself halfway through and drops it.

“Give me a sec,” he stands from the couch and takes off towards the bedroom.

You hear him unzipping something, presumably a suitcase. Then he comes marching back in the room with both hands behind his back.

“Pick a hand.”

“What?” you ask, confused by his antics.

“Pick. A. Hand.”

“Right.”

He pulls his right hand from behind his back and presents you with a CD. You take it in your hand and see an intricate white and green maze with the ‘The SKZ House’ written in the center. You flip it over, and see a list of song titles: Broken Compass, Connected, I Hate to Admit, Collision, Leave, and Waiting For Us.

“Is this…” you trail off.

“You left before it was completed, and Hyunjin wouldn’t fork over your address…and he refused to send it to you. Said it probably wasn’t a good idea.”

You let out a sigh. He was still in your corner, even when you were away. And he was absolutely right. Receiving this would have been drastically different than the portrait. Hearing Chan’s voice singing and, judging from the song titles alone, this would have stirred up emotions you wouldn’t have been able to cope with. You know, once you actually found something to play a physical CD on.

“Thank you,” you mutter, setting it aside. “What’s in your other hand?”

“When you left it felt like the worst thing ever…” he says, sitting back on the couch as he presents the stack of papers in his left hand, flipping through the pages. “It still does, to be honest. But you were right—you deciding to leave early really was the best thing you could have ever done for us.”

He hands you the papers and your eyes are immediately drawn to the highlighted section on the page. You recognize it as a portion of the contract you signed.

“Once the assignee completes the duration of the school year, or leaves the home with a proper two-week notice, she will have no further contact with any member listed herein…”

“When I tell you I poured over the contract to find something…this is it.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You didn’t complete the duration of the school year with us, did you?” he asks.

“No, but—”

“And you didn’t give a full two-week notice, did you?”

“No…but—”

“It’s a technicality, sure. But it’s a fucking rock solid one.”

Your brain is rattling inside of your skull as he speaks, and you try to comprehend.

“I spent months meeting with lawyers to confirm that it is. I wanted to make sure this was an airtight loophole before I told my parents and before I came to find you,” he continues. “They knew something was off when I came back home, I was brooding more than usual. But when I found this, it was like a complete 180 for me. This was a chance. This was hope that I could cling to.”

Your eyes roam over the words on the paper again.

“My mom didn’t really put up much of a fight, she wants to see me happy above all else but my dad…” he trails off.

You sigh and close your eyes as you lean back against the couch. This is a lot to take in. It’s the information you sought, but still feeds into the original worry that him being with you would cause a rift in his family.

“He wasn’t so enthusiastic about it initially, and to be completely honest with you he’s still not fully on board, but he’s starting to accept it. I’ve been adamant. I’ve made it clear that I won’t settle for anyone else. I want you.”

You open your eyes and turn your head to face him. The look in his eyes punctures your heart. You can see the hope and light brimming within them. The mere thought of being with you again has kept him going all this time.

As he takes in your facial expression—one of confusion and pain—he furrows his brow and retreats from you slightly.

“Is there someone else?” he asks, sounding concerned.

“Right now? No…”

“But there has been?”

“Chan,” you say his name softly, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I’m just asking.”

“Yes, there was. A few months ago, but it’s over, and it was never anything serious.”

He seems to relax hearing that.

“May I ask what happened?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, feeling the brunt of everything hit you at once. You grit your teeth as the familiar prickling in your eyes starts up. The man you had been seeing was wonderful. He was smart and kind, and treated you so, so well. There was just one resounding problem. You open your eyes to look at him and a lone tear escapes down your cheek, the last you have left to cry over this man.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer mournfully.

Chan lurches towards you, but catches himself again. He curls his hands into fists and places them on his lap, like he’s fighting everything in him to not wrap you in his arms.

You sniffle, wiping at the tear on your cheek.

“I’m not here to force you into anything, y/n…I Just want you to know that it’s an option. We are an option.”

He opens his hands, palming his jean clad thighs and rubbing them vigorously.

Here he is—the man you fell so deeply in love with in just seven months. It’s ironic that you’ve now been without him longer than you even had him in your life. And yet…here he is. Professing his feelings for you. Telling you how he’s fought for you. Visibly restraining himself from touching you until you grant him permission.

You don’t know how to respond. You don’t know what to do or say.

You have to ask yourself, though…how could this work? He’ll be flying back to Australia or Korea or wherever the fuck soon and you’ll still be here. He knows that. He wouldn’t have come all this way, put himself and you through all this without a plan though, right? He has more forethought than that. Could this actually work? Could you actually get the chance to be with him, free of contracts, free of expiration dates?

You reach your hand out to cover his and he immediately stops rubbing his thighs.

Before you can stop yourself, you move his hands out of the way and climb onto his lap, straddling him. He exhales a sigh of relief, seeing you on top of him. You cup his face in your hands, while his remain limp at his sides.

“Touch me, Chan,” you whisper softly.

His hands swiftly gravitate to your waist, squeezing so tightly it may leave a mark. He runs his hands up and down your sides as you caress his face, letting your hands slide up to his hair, pushing off his hat. He shakes his head, and it falls to the side. You smile down at him softly, and he returns the gesture.

“How could this even work?” you finally ask aloud.

“It won’t be easy,” he answers truthfully. “But I will make it work, y/n, I swear to you. I’ll come and visit as often as I can until you graduate vet school. If you want to work in the states after that, I’ll set something up so I can work remotely and be wherever you are. If you want to move to Australia with me, I’ll find out what is required to get you licensed there—I don’t care what it takes or what it costs. I will make it work.”

Hearing his determination, you feel a sense of calm washing over you to ease your worries. While it’s not quite a concrete plan, it feels like enough. He understands the challenges you will be up against, and he will be by your side through the entire process.

You attempt to quiet the voices in your head, screaming out all the ways this could still end badly. You actually have a shot at this. You want to believe him. You’re choosing to believe him.

“Jeeze, you really missed me or something, didn’t you?” you tease lightly.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he responds in all seriousness.

And you have no doubt in your mind that he means it.

You lean down and allow your lips to fully connect with his. It’s a chaste kiss, but it’s enough to remind you just how much you’ve missed him. You pull away, then lean forward again, repeating the process several times as his hands grip your waist. His right hand slides up your back, stopping at your neck. He squeezes it gently and pulls you away from him.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he reassures you. “I didn’t come find you for this.”

While that is comforting to hear, you haven’t been able to shake the thought of having this kind of moment with him since you laid eyes on him. Waking up this morning, this certainly isn’t how you saw your day concluding. And there’s still so much to talk about and figure out, but you can’t deny the way your body is calling for him. The throbbing between your thighs is incessant.

“So, you don’t want to fuck me?” you arch an eyebrow, rolling your hips against his.

He groans, “It’s not about what I want, right now. Tell me what you want.”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling so many familiar sensations returning to you.

“I want you.”

He pushes your neck forward until your lips crash together again, more passionately this time. You part your lips and allow his tongue to enter. He slides his tongue against yours and you moan at the taste you’ve missed so much.

“You have me,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me, Chan.”

His eyes all but roll into the back of his head as he grips your hips and repositions you on the couch so that you’re laying beneath him.

“I was worried I’d never hear you say that again.”

His mouth claims yours once more and you succumb to all the feelings you still have for him as they soar throughout your body.

You still want him. You still need him.

As your tongues collide, he grinds his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he is. You moan against his lips, unabashedly satisfied with the effect you still have on him. You reach for the ends of his shirt and tug upwards on it. He sits upright on his knees and takes it the rest of the way off.

“I was convinced I’d never see this again,” you say while your hands move of their own accord to touch him.

You drag your fingers up and down his defined abdomen—he’s even more toned than the last time you saw him, which you didn’t think was possible. You slide your hands up, across his pectoral muscles, lightly grazing his nipples along the way. You clasp your hands behind his neck and attempt to pull him back down, wanting his lips on yours again.

“No,” he says to stop you, pulling at your hands. “I need to see you too. Sit up.”

You raise the top half of your body from the couch and let him take your shirt off. He wraps one arm around your back, holding you to him as he effortlessly unclasps your bra with his other hand. You pull the straps down and slide it out from between you before dropping it on the floor.

Instead of laying you back on the couch, he keeps holding you close, your tits pressed against his abs. You wrap your hands around his waist and hug him back, turning your face to rest your cheek against his chest. He lets out a sigh and presses his lips to the top of your head.

You stay like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace—you listening to his deep, thumping heartbeat and him continually kissing your crown.

“You okay?” you say after a moment.

“Yes,” he responds immediately. “Just bracing myself. I know I won’t be able to hold back once I see you like this.”

You smile at that and pull away from him, lowering yourself back down onto the couch and resting your arms above your head.

“Fuck me,” he breathes.

He lowers himself on top of you, one hand grabbing a hold of your breast while the other grips your wrists, holding them together. He kisses you on the lips, then your chin. You tilt your head back to let him make his way down your neck and all the way to your breasts.

He kisses around the breast not currently occupied by his hand, before taking your nipple in his mouth. You let out a moan as he swirls his tongue around it, teasing you. He starts rhythmically rocking his hips into yours as his teeth clamp down on your nipple.

You gasp at the feeling, trying to pull your hands from his grip to tangle them in his hair. He grunts, holding them in place as he switches to the other side.

“Chan, please.”

The sound of your voice begging him feels both foreign and natural at the same time.

He continues to suck on your nipple a moment longer before releasing it from his mouth. He releases your hands at the same time, and they route themselves straight to the button of his jeans. He kisses you as you unbutton and unzip them, struggling a bit to remove them at this angle.

He sits up to do the rest and you watch mesmerized as his hard cock springs out from its confines. You reach out for it, wanting to feel him in your hands and take him in your mouth but he stops you.

“Later. I need to be inside you right fucking now, y/n,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your scrub pants and underwear. He yanks them down to the middle of your thighs and you help push them past your knees, then use your legs to kick them all the way off.

You place one leg up on the back of the couch, exposing your pussy to him.

“So god damn beautiful,” he remarks as his eyes soak in the sight of your completely naked body.

He grips the base of his cock and you both groan as he rubs the tip up and down your slit.

“Are you still on the pill?”

Your eyes open wide—you were so used to not using protection with him, that it had momentarily slipped your mind. You shake your head.

He slaps his cock against your clit, making your body jerk each time.

“We can get Plan B tomorrow,” you tell him breathlessly.

“Yeah? You sure you’re okay with that?” he asks, and you can hear the restraint he’s exercising in his voice.

He lowers his cock to your entrance and your hips begin to undulate in anticipation.

“Yes, it’s okay.”

He hooks your legs over his shoulder and slowly starts to push his way in.

“I fucking love you, y/n. You know that right?”

You could have assumed but even after all this time you never knew for certain. Hearing him actually say it is something you never imagined.

He fucking loves you.

And knowing all he’s done to bring you back into his life, you don’t doubt him for a second.

“I do now,” you tell him, cupping his face. “I love you too, Chan.”

Saying it back feels like a burden has been lifted. You wanted to tell him all those months ago, but he cut you off. And it feels safer to admit now, knowing he feels the same, if not stronger, for you.

Without another word he thrusts his hips forward. You gasp then moan, reveling in the feel of him being fully inside you. You don’t ever want to try convincing yourself that this isn’t right again.

The second and third rounds take place in the bedroom.

When you both need a respite, you lay tangled up in bed while Chan orders room service. You stay intertwined until there’s a knock at the door. The food is brought in and you cover yourself with his shirt before taking a seat in the living room. Chan places all of the trays out on the coffee table in front of you.

“What have I missed? Fill me in,” he asks.

As the two of you share a meal, you tell him what you’ve been up to since he last saw you and vice versa. He’s been working under his dad at the company as an intern. He enjoys the work, but still works on his music in his free time. He tells you about the others and all they’ve gotten into since you last saw them. Hyunjin has been traveling nonstop, nearly pushing his parents to the limit in what they’re calling his ‘tortured artist phase’. Your heart hurts for him, hearing that.

“Was there anyone else for you? Between now and then?” you ask.

“No.”

“Not even after I left the house?”

“It would have taken a few weeks to post an ad, find candidates, screen them, have them tested—too much hassle to have them in for just a month.”

The overwhelming sense of relief that washes over you feels wrong. Hypocritical, even.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t be. Hyunjin and I were okay without an assignee. Our hands were probably working overtime, but, it was fine,” he shrugs with a teasing smile.

“And no one after graduation?”

“I can’t speak for Hyunjin, but for me…there never was anyone else. And there never will be.”

You take a deep gulp to swallow the food caught in your throat.

You don’t feel bad that he didn’t move on and try to find anyone else, per se, but hearing that does take you by surprise. Thinking back on his behavior, though, you never once saw him even remotely entertain another female. Even the one earlier from today outside of the hotel.

His commitment is unparalleled.

This man chooses you.

He fought for you.

He carved a way for you.

The two of you finally have a chance at something real, and you don’t want to pass it up. Worries about telling your parents and your career are already on your mind, as well as if his family will truly accept you. You force them aside, not wanting to burst the bubble the two of you are in right now. You have the entire weekend ahead of you to talk more and figure things out.

You don’t know how this can work and that unnerves you as you don’t quite see the vision yet—but you do trust him and feel safe letting him take the reins. You always have.

You always will.

[ read chapter 32 here ] (coming soon)

a/n: *cries* i can't believe it's over. i also can't believe this idea came to me on such a whim and turned into something that so many of you have enjoyed. i wasn't sure at all where it was going in the beginning, but i'm amazed at where it's ended up. i've been fighting for my life not to give out spoilers along the way to cheer you up through the angst. i've known for a couple months that it would be a loophole in the contract, that y/n would have to leave early and on short notice for it to work. it would break them, but also end up saving them so all of that tension and turmoil had to happen.

we still have the epilogue left to look forward to, though! where do you think they'll be?

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milla-frenchy · 5 months ago

Text

A summer with the Millers - Part 2

2k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller

Summary: after that first evening with Tommy and Joel, you go back for more and finally get what you want

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy and Joel are in their late 30s, early 40s), eager reader, threesome MFM, slight degradation, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation, fingering, piv, creampies

a/n: pics for mood only

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing 💕🫶

dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3

Part 1

Joel smirked when he heard you asking for more.

You looked at Tommy. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he scratched his temple with his thumb, a cigarette between his fingers. Flashes from the night before jostled in your eyes, and you were more sure of yourself than ever. You wanted more.

Joel took another sip of his beer before saying: “You want more? You wanna feel our cocks in your pretty cunt? Is that right, sweetheart?”

He was direct and confident, and you liked that. You would need him again to convince Tommy.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“Looks like we made a good impression, making her cum 3 times, Tommy.”

Joel Miller wasn't the most modest of men, but he wasn't wrong. Yesterday was perfect, and they had already taught you a lot. And finally, you had Tommy. Not totally, but you were hoping to change that tonight.

“Where’s your dad, darlin’?” Tommy asked, without looking at his brother.

“He just left for work. He asked me if I had plans, I told him I was going out with some friends.”

“Some friends… yeah, right”, Joel chuckled before leaning against the dining room table, sipping his beer.

You moved closer to Tommy, feeling him hesitant. Running your fingers down his chest, over his t-shirt. Biting your lip.

“Did you like it, Tommy? What you did to me, yesterday?”

“Jesus, of course. I loved it, darlin’.”

“Do you want more, too? Do you wanna feel my tight pussy around your fat cock?”

“Shit, baby, you can’t…fuck. You really know what you want, don’t ya?”

“I do. And I want you to be the first one thrusting in.”

You smiled at him flirtily, then turned to Joel. No hesitation in his eyes.

“Do you wanna be the second one, Joel?”

“Fuck yeah. Course I do. No need to convince me, baby.”

He stood up and moved closer to you, until his body was against yours. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and leaned you against him, breathing in your hair as your nose was nestled in the crook of his neck. You felt safe with them.

“We’re gonna take good care of you, sweetheart. Right, Tommy?”

Tommy didn't respond. He had stepped back, leaning against the wall. He took a drag of his cigarette and looked at you and Joel.

Joel grabbed your hips and spun you around so you were facing Tommy, Joel’s cock against your ass. Half hard, and you shivered.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start over with your guilt?”

“It’s not that easy, Joel.”

“It seemed really easy when she was licking your balls while you were jerking off.”

Joel grabbed your breasts in his hands, squeezing them through the fabric of your dress as you ground against his crotch. It was so good to feel him again, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensations. “I'm sure Tommy would love to jerk off between your tits, while my cock would sink in your throat. Right, Tommy?”

“Can’t you stop talking like that and let me think? She’s a virgin for christ’s sake. It’s not goddamn porn…”

“Last night seemed like porn to me”, added Joel, while he caressed your ass with his big hand, and admired the way you arched against him. “And really good porn, by the way. Don’t worry, baby. He plays the grumpy guy, but when he’ll see you all splayed on his bed, he’ll be dying to pop your cherry.”

“Tommy… You wouldn't want a stranger to take your best friend's daughter's virginity in the back of a car, would you? A boy, or a man of your age, who would hurt me, maybe? Better make sure it happens safely, don’t you think?”

Tommy shook his head and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Then he slowly moved closer to you. Joel placed his hands on your hips again and held you against him. Tommy's gaze was fixed on you.

“You’re trouble, ain’t you?”

“I’m just a 21 year old girl and I wanna have fun on my summer vacation...” you pouted.

Joel chuckled. “She’s giving you a hard time, ain’t she?”

“She is. Always been a little brat, this one”, said Tommy. Eyes fixed on yours, he ran his index finger along your cheek. Seemed like he couldn’t resist your eyelashes and angelic smile.

“Ok. If that's what you want, baby, we’re gonna give it to ya. I ain’t gonna fight all summer. But!” he said, raising his index finger. “Your father will never know. You ain’t doing stupid shit in front of him. He can’t know. Are we clear?”

“Yes, of course, Tommy.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about that.”

“Perfect! So we have an agreement. Let’s fill up that pussy” Joel said, his nose brushing your neck.

“Seriously, Joel? How romantic of you…”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Joel shrug. “It’s not exactly like she needs to be seduced. Can almost hear her dripping on the floor.”

Tommy leaned towards you, placing his hands on your cheeks and kissed you. His tongue searched for yours and you quickly gave it to him. Joel kissed your neck, pushing his cock against your ass, and your panties were really already soaked.

“We’re gonna go to my bedroom. Ain’t gonna take your virginity on a fucking table or the couch.”

Tommy took your hand and led you to his bedroom, Joel following behind you. You could feel his stare on your ass and you swung your hips. You heard him say “naughty little thing…”, chuckling.

A small lamp was bathing the bedroom in a dim red light. They didn't waste any time and undressed you. Removing your dress then panties. They covered you with kisses, caressing almost every inch of your skin.

“Lie down on the bed, darlin’”, Tommy asked.

You obeyed, putting your head on his pillow. Naked. The two men stood at the foot of the bed, still dressed. You felt desired, knowing how hard their cocks must be. You felt a little scared too. But the way the previous evening had gone made you think everything would be fine. You knew deep down that they would be perfect.

“Show me. Show me how you make yourself come, thinking about me.”

Your breathing quickened and you felt heat reach your cheeks. You slipped your hand between your thighs, and caressed your soaked folds.

“Open your pretty legs, sweetheart. Show us your little virgin cunt.”

You spread your legs, hoping that the dim light would allow them to see your wetness already leaking onto the sheets.

“You're soaked, baby. You want it so bad, fuck… yeah, just like that. Keep touching yourself. Jesus, that’s hot.”

You kept caressing your folds, sometimes your clit, until the sensations made you close your eyes.

“Don’t. Eyes open baby. Look at us.”

You opened your eyes and spread your thighs further apart, as your moans filled the room. Eager to show them how much you wanted them.

“Do you say my name when you finger yourself?”

“Y… yeah. I do.”

“Do it, then.”

Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Grabbed it with his big hand. You thought about how he brushed it against your folds the night before, until his cum drenched them. Until he made you cum against his shaft.

You moaned and whispered “Tommy,” not taking your eyes off Joel and it made him smile.

“Oh, baby girl…you're gonna moan my name tonight too, don’t worry.”

“Fuck… I gotta pump my cock. That’s so hot. Keep going, baby. Come on your fingers.”

You swirled your finger gently against your clit as you were looking at them jerking off, and when the orgasm made you arch your back, you moaned “Tommy”, eyes fixed on him that time.

“Fuck… ok. That’s one, sweetheart.”

The two men got undressed and lied down against you. You kissed them in turn, their hands roaming your body.

“You’re fucking hot, baby, you know that?”

Tommy’s tongue was buried in your mouth and you couldn’t respond.

“Lemme taste her on your fingers, sweetheart. I jerked off this morning, thinking about her.”

You pulled back from Tommy and said “Really? You jerked off thinking about… me and my pussy?”

“Course I did. Come on, lemme taste her again.”

You brought your fingers to his mouth and he licked them, eyes staring into yours.

“I could eat that pussy every day, you know.”

“Fuck, Joel…”

Tommy placed his hands on your hips and turned you towards Joel. You felt Tommy’s cock poke between your thighs and he lightly rolled his hips.

“Fuck, darlin’. Can’t believe you’ve got the nerves to be here. With us. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your thighs.”

“Yeah, by the end of the summer I wonder what part we won’t have fucked or licked.”

The idea gave you goosebumps. Joel really wanted to keep this going all summer and you loved that.

“Fuck I gotta stop or I ain't gonna last.”

“That would be too bad, Tommy, right? I’m not sure I could wait for you to be hard again. Your brother would have to be the first one fucking me…”

“You’re testing me, darlin’”, said Tommy. “But you know… your first time is tonight and I’m gonna be gentle. But once it’s done, I might be rougher next time we fuck.”

You barely had the time to smile and say “next time?!”, that Joel pushed you onto your back and slid his hand up to your pussy, pushing a finger into your soaking cunt and started to pump you gently. “Finger her with me, Tommy. Gotta stretch her before you fuck her.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathed when Tommy's finger joined Joel’s.

They worked you open and kissed your lips, cheeks and neck and you felt like you were in heaven. The lewd noises from your pussy left no doubt about your wetness.

“I’m gonna eat ya baby. Gonna make you come on my tongue. And then your crush will fuck you, ok? You want me to go down on you?”

“Yes, yes Joel, please.”

“That’s a good girl”, he praised you. Kissed your cheek and settled between your thighs.

Soon, his moans between your folds were the only thing you were hearing, while Tommy was sucking and licking your tits.

“You’re perfect, baby, you know that? Can’t wait to fuck you. To feel your cunt squeezing me.”

You were moaning too now, and could barely answer him. Joel’s tongue was buried deep in your core as his thumb gently stroked your clit.

“You’re gonna come, baby? My brother’s gonna make you come?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!” you whimpered.

You came on Joel’s tongue and he kept drinking all the wetness that was leaking out.

“That’s two, baby.” He smiled and brushed his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

“Alright. You’re ready for me, darlin’?”

“Yeah. Need to feel you in me, Tommy. Please.”

“So polite. Not a little brat anymore, uh?”

“Our little brat wants that cock and she’s gonna be docile now, until her eager cunt is getting fucked.”

Their filthy mouths were driving you crazy. You loved being used and they just knew it.

Tommy settled between your thighs as Joel sat against the headboard, stroking your shoulder. The younger brother grabbed his cock and looked at you, as if to check that you were still ok. You nodded and he slid his tip into your entrance, but stopped when he quickly felt a resistance.

“You said you played with dildos?”

“Yeah but… more with my clit, and not really far in my pussy, you know…”

“Jesus, baby… ok, ok. Unless you want me to stop, I won’t stop now. Fuck it.”

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He pushed lightly again and you spread your legs further, trying to make things easier.

“Let me in, baby”, he growled. “Let me in”. He seemed wrecked already. As if you were the one in charge. You felt strong and powerful and you loved the feeling. He pushed, his nose against your cheek and his hands around your neck while yours were on his hips.

You were afraid he would never fit in your tight cunt. You breathed slowly and deeply to calm your worry, and suddenly your body gave way and he thrust into you. You moaned and grimaced, digging your nails into his flesh.

“Shit, that’s fucking hot…” You opened your eyes to see Joel standing in front of the bed, slowly jerking off. You hadn't noticed that he had gotten up, too focused on Tommy who was finally giving you what you wanted.

“Yeah, look at me baby. Look at me. You’re ok.”

“She’s fuckin’ tight, Joel, fuck…”

“Course she’s tight. First cock she’s taking. You’re doing great, baby. Look what you’re doing to me? How hard you make me, when I’m watching you being fucked?”

You nodded, while looking at him fisting his cock.

The pain was gone and Tommy was filling you perfectly, grunting in your neck. Fucking your cunt slowly, to enjoy its tightness, or maybe to avoid coming too soon.

You ran your hands through his hair. The way his pelvis rubbed against you made another orgasm build.

“I want you to cum at the same time as me, Tommy. Will you do that?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

You felt your body contract deep inside you, felt the heat. And you really wanted Tommy to come at the same time as you.

“How does it feel Tommy?”

“Feels good. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like fucking your best friend’s daughter?”

He felt his balls tightened and said “shit. You want my cum? You want me to fill you up?”

You didn’t respond right away, rubbing yourself against him more. Then you whispered in his ear “you said I was a slut, yesterday. Fill up your slut, Tommy.”

His cock pulsed inside you and for the first time, you felt hot cum filling your pussy. His jolts made you come and you felt weakness in your legs, while your eyes were seeing stars.

You and Tommy were struggling to calm down your breath, but the sound of Joel's wrist fisting his cock was obsessing you.

Tommy kissed you before rolling onto the bed next to you. You heard Joel say “that’s three.”

He moved closer to the bed, still jerking off. “Can I fuck you too baby? You think you can take me or it’s gonna be too much?”

You nodded. And as the day before, he said “words, baby.”

“I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel you too. Come lie between my thighs, please Joel.”

He knelt between your legs, and spread your folds with his thumbs. Watched his brother's cum flow onto the sheets. His cock twitched, precum making it glisten.

“Please, Joel”, you begged. His hand led his tip to your entrance. He sank in, slowly but didn’t stop. Said "fuck… there we go" through clenched teeth. He was slightly thicker than Tommy, and you felt your walls part as his shaft sank in until he bottomed out. He pulled back and spat on his cock, mixing his saliva with your wetness. You moaned when you watched him. He was hot, way too hot. They both were, and you already wanted more. Even if he was still between your folds. He lay back between your thighs, and kept his eyes fixed on yours, until his length was fully buried in you. Then he held your hands on each side of your head, and fucked you. He didn’t stop, and kept stretching you. But he was careful not to hurt you. You just knew he could be really rough, but he cared and respected you, your body, your first time. You could hear his cock, thrusting in your cunt, soaked with your wetness and his brother's cum.

“You were right, Tommy. So fuckin’ tight.”

“Yeah. Almost nutted when I sank in.”

“Can you imagine, fucking her if we both were 21? We wouldn’t even have the time to thrust our entire shaft before shooting our load.” They both laughed.

You didn't take your eyes off him. It was hard to believe that Tommy had just taken your virginity a few minutes ago, and that Joel was fucking you at that moment.

“Joel”, you murmured.

“Yeah, baby girl. Told ya you’d moan my name tonight.”

Tommy leaned over and kissed you. Then he took your chin between his fingers and said "come on, darlin’. Let my brother enjoy your little pussy clenching on him. I can see your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head again. Cock dumb, huh?"

He looked at Joel and said “another one is coming. She’s fuckin’ gone.”

“I’m gonna come”, growled Joel. “Oh fuck, baby… gonna fill you too.” You couldn't even hear him anymore, as your body spasmed and you came one last time. Borderline overstimulated, you felt like your pussy was never going to stop squeezing his cock. He stayed buried in you a few minutes, trying to calm down. Then he rolled on his back and chuckled “4. 4 fucking times. Fuck.” Tommy laughed and lit a cigarette.

Summer was really about to begin.

***********

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Other virginity loss fic: After (qz!Joel)

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throneofsmut · 4 months ago

Text

Sweet Little Prince

Dorian Havilliard x Reader || WC: 1.9k || Warnings: None

Summary: Dorian finds out he has a son he didn’t know about. Based on this req.

A/N: Whoever req this i hope you like it. Idk if this is what you expected but it’s what came to mind.

****

Your son had finally fallen asleep causing you to let out a relieved sigh as you brush back his raven-black curls from his face.

A smile gracing your lips before placing a kiss on his forehead and quietly making your way out of his room, heading down stairs back to the kitchen.

You find Rowan putting the chocolate cake into the oven to bake.

“You finished it?” you ask as you step up beside the oven. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I didn’t know how long you’d be.” He replies without looking over his shoulder at you. “And I know you want to get the recipe just right for his birthday tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

He gives you a nod before rising to his full height again and moving to the sink to wash his hands. “Your sister wants to talk to you.”

“About what?” You lean on the island that’s in the middle of the kitchen.

Rowan turns around facing you as he dries his hands. He doesn’t say anything until he’s done and places the damp towel on the counter. “About you being Queen of Terrasen and ruling beside her. Together.”

You shake your head, brows furrowed, “Since the war ended, I think I made it pretty clear I don’t want to be Queen.”

“Why?”

“I told you, why already. You, Aelin and Aedion. I don’t want it.”

“Tell me again.”

“Rowan—“

“Tell me.”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, glaring at him for a moment before telling him. Again. “I don’t want to rule. I don’t want a crown or a throne. I have no taste for duty. I’m not suited for it.”

He crosses his arms across his chest. “Have you ever considered that, the best ruler, might be someone who doesn’t want to rule?”

A small chuckle slips through your lips earning a glare from him. “No, I don’t. Because I don’t want it.”

“Your sister just thinks that—“

Aelin walks through the front door of your cottage, “I just think that, it’d be safer for both of you if you moved into the castle and were crowned. She reaches the two of you in a few long strides. “You would be Queen and he”—your son—“would be the crowned Prince.”

Now it’s your turn to cross your arms across your chest. “He’s technically already a prince and I’m capable of keeping us both safe here—in our home. We don’t need to be in the castle.”

Your sister’s—your twin’s— face softens and she walks up to you. “I know he is,” she says gently. “I know you are. . . but please think about it. And if you don’t want to be Queen here, what about Adarlan? Dorian keeps asking about you.”

“Aelin,” you sigh, “you’ve been telling me to ‘think’ about it for two years now and I don’t want it. Or Adarlan’s”

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can your son’s voice cuts her off.

“Mommy?” he calls out. “Mommy, where are you?”

“Coming, baby,” you call back.

Aelin steps back and you make your way upstairs to his room. As soon as you walk into his room he sits up in his bed. “I hear Aunty Aelin and Uncle Wowan, downstairs.”

“Did they wake you up?” You ask as you sit on the side of his bed.

He nods his head, rubbing his eyes—one sapphire blue and one bright ashryver blue, ringed with gold—“Can I say ‘hi’?”

You breathe out a small laugh, nodding, “You can say ‘hi’ but then you have to go back to sleep.”

He nods his head and lifts his arms for you to pick him up.

You head back downstairs with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you.

Aelin and Rowan both walk up to meet you, closing the distance. “How’s my favorite nephew?” Aelin coos.

“He’s your only nephew,” Rowan points out. Which earns him a glare from your sister.

“Say ‘hi,’ baby.”

“Hi, Aunty Aelin. Hi Uncle Wowan.” His little voice is still thick with sleep.

They both greet him back with loving smiles.

“Why are you awake, little prince? We trained a lot today.” Rowan asks him as he brushes a rogue raven-black curl behind his little pointed ear.

“I hear you and Aunty Aelin and I wanted to say ‘hi’.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Aelin praises.

Your son smiles, his cheeks dimpling, and he turns to look at you. You can’t help but beam at him in return. Your own cheeks dimpling too.

He lightly tugs a golden blonde lock of your hair before whispering—not so quietly—“I go sleep now?”

“Yeah, baby.” You chuckle before giving Aelin and Rowan a quick look and they nod back at you.

And as soon as you’re done tucking him back in he’s sleeping. You kiss his forehead before heading back down stairs, “Sweet dreams,” your whisper into his night filled room.

“Fireheart!” Rowan scolds your sister as she shoves a forkful of steaming chocolate cake into her mouth.

She spits it out before even chewing it and you frown. “That bad?”

She shakes her head, brows furrowing sadly, “No. It’s too hot.”

“I told you to wait,” Rowan grumbles.

“Anyways,” you drawl out. “Why’d you come so late, Aelin?”

“My meetings ran long today and I had an unexpected visitor come.” She blows on a new forkful of cake to cool it down. “They’re going to be visiting for the week.”

You arch a brow, “Who?”

“A friend.”

Your gaze slid to Rowan, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been here all day.” And he was right. He’d been here since the morning teaching and training your son because the raw magic he’d inherited from his father began showing.

And a two—practically three—year old with raw magic and fae ancestry needed to be taught control early it seemed.

Also because fae males—even half fae males were deadly. Rowan and Aedion knew that so they came and helped you teach your son control. Fenrys and Lorcan had given up after your son had learned to summon fire and burned off their eyebrows.

Aelin groaned as she chewed a new bite of cake. “Good?” you asked. She nodded, still not finished chewing her first bite before getting another. “Are you still going to be able to make it to his birthday tomorrow?”

She gave you a look as if to say, Obviously, before finally telling you with words. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Your sister and Rowan said their goodnights and Rowan had to practically drag her out because she was still trying to eat the chocolate cake. So to make it easier for both of them you just told her to take the whole thing with her. Her eyes glinted as soon as the words left your mouth.

You woke up early the next day to get everything ready for your son's third birthday and you had practically finished setting up and getting ready by the time Aedion and Lysandra came to help set up.

An hour later the rest of Aelin’s court—your little family—arrived.

Everyone was enjoying themselves and eating while your son and Lorcan and Elide’s daughter played together while Evangeline watched over them.

You got up from the table to go get the cake, still needing to frost it and add the candles.

Aedion rose with you, “Do you need help?”

Giving him a small smile as you gestured for him to sit back down, “No, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick.” You reassured him.

Setting the cake on the counter that was in front of the window where you could still see your son playing with his cousins. He was conjuring fishes with his water magic and making them dive in and out of the lake in front of him. His cheeks dimpled as he laughed along with the girls.

You were so distracted by your son and the cake that you didn’t hear anyone walk in until they called your name.

“Y/n?” He called.

You stilled as your heart dropped before slowly turning around. The frosting spatula clutched so tightly in your hand your knuckles were white.

“Dorian,” you breathed.

He was still as beautiful as you remembered him. Tall, tan skin, sapphire eyes and raven-black hair. But, he was broader now—more muscular. And in place of the black collar that was around his neck the last time you saw him was a pale line.

“Why— How—“ he stammered.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m visiting. . . I got here yesterday evening and Aelin said you were all celebrating a birthday and invited me.” You were going to kill her.

“You settled.” He pointed out, his eyes taking you in.

Even though he wasn’t necessarily asking, you responded anyway. “Yes.”

“How? You’re twenty, I thought you weren’t going to settle for a few more years.”

“I didn’t think so either, but, uh, I actually settled while I was pregnant.”

Dorian’s face flickered with so many different emotions before he schooled his features and simply asked, “Pregnant?”

“Yeah. . . and not only did I settle but my son’s magic made me fully fae.” You didn’t know why you were just telling him everything. “The healers don’t know how either, but him being half fae confirmed it.”

“Son?”

“It’s his birthday today,” you told him.

Dorian’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything your son’s laugh drifted all the way back to the cottage and cut him off. His sapphire eyes shot to the window and he sucked in a sharp breath.

There was no denying the resemblance. He knew he was the father of your son.

His gaze turned back to you and there was so much pain and regret in his eyes but hope too. Maybe even love. “Why didn’t you tell me?” was all he said though.

“I was going to,” you admitted. “But before I got the chance to,” your voice cracked, “your father ordered you to kill me when he found me trying to talk to you.” A tear rolled down your cheek and he stepped closer to you and wiped it away. “So I ran. To keep us both”—your son and you—“alive.”

Your words weren’t malicious, just honest.

“You don’t remember?”

His eyes were still on you as he shook his head before looking out through the window again. “I missed so much,” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry.”

Dorian pulled you into a hug, “Don’t be. You’re both here. Safe and alive. That’s all I care about.” His words made you cry harder and he only held you tighter and kissed the top of your head.

You both were so caught up in your own world that you didn’t hear the little footsteps that bounded into the kitchen.

“Mommy?” Your son called and you and Dorian pulled apart.

He walked up to you and you crouched down to get to his level. “Why you crying?” He asked, his small hands wiping away your tears.

“I’m just so happy, my sweet little prince.”

He smiled and turned to look at Dorian. “Are you mommy’s friend?”

Dorian chuckled as he crouched down too, tears welling up in his eyes, as he looked at a small version of himself. “Yes. Her best friend.”

Your son smiled impossibly wider and stuck his hand out towards him and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Dowian.”

Dorian looked at you and this time a tear fell. He cleared his throat, taking your son’s hand, “Hi, Dorian. My name is Dorian too.”

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #dorian havilliard x you #dorian x you #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard fanfic #dorian havilliard x yn #throne of glass dorian #dorian havilliard x y/n #dorian havilliard reader fic

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sinofwriting · 7 months ago

Text

Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader

Words: 4,549 Summary: Charles and Max are together and she needs to move on, get over them before her feelings get any bigger and harder to handle.

Note(s): Partial SMAU. No part two will be written

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

This was far more difficult than it should be, she couldn’t help but think.

When Max and Charles had told her that they were together, she knew that the days of being a trio were over. She had made her peace with it as soon as the next day had rolled around and she had let herself cry, because it hurt more than she expected seeing the two people she liked so much being in love with each other. She knew that they’d want time alone, time to go out on dates, to just spend time with each other, without other people, without her.

So, she retreated. Started texting to ask if she could come over to Max’s or Charles’, double checking that they still wanted her to come over when they asked, knocking on front doors instead of just letting herself in like before. She nearly gave back her keys to both their places, but kept them. They’d give them to her in case of emergencies, it just so happened that they then urged her to use them to just let herself in at any time. She did however take back her own spare keys, slipping it off of their key rings when they were distracted. The one going back in her safe in her bedroom, the other going to Arthur, who thankfully hadn’t asked questions just kissed her on the forehead with a murmured breath of idiots before threading their arms together and making her walk with him around Maranello.

She had figured it would be easy to fall away from them, that they’d like the time to be together just them. But she’s still getting invited to come over for random lunches and dinners. For movie night whether it’s over discord when she hasn’t joined them at a race or in Max’s living room or Charles' hotel room.

It hurts to say no to those offerings, to not say yes every time they offer, but it also hurts to see them together and she can’t be around them as often as she used to with her feelings so large for them and hopefully not apparent.

So, she asks for Arthur’s help. She loves them, yes, but she isn’t in love with them. And that means the world of difference, because she can get over them, will get over them.

Her feet are in his lap as they scroll through her tiktok that’s displayed on her TV. It makes her miss the F2 weekends, the races she always attends, just to tag along with Arthur. To support him, and how always the night before the feature race no matter how much Max or Charles will plead, she’ll go to his hotel room and they’d do the same thing. Scrolling through her tiktok, either laughing or scoffing at what’s shown.

She curls her toes gently into his thigh, laughing at the slight hiss he gives. “How are your toes so cold?” She shrugs, wiggling them a bit before he puts a blanket over them, setting his hand on top of the blanket where her toes are underneath. “Why is your hand so warm?” “Do you really want to know?” She makes a face at him and he does the same back and they both break into giggles.

“I was wondering,” “Oh?” He looks away from the TV, eyes focusing on her. “If the offer to set me up with someone was still on the table.” His eyebrows are raised. “But what about,” “They are together, happy and in love. I’m happy with being their friend, but to be a better friend I need to get over my feelings before it hurts them or their relationship and that is the last thing I want.”

She means it as well. She is happy for Charles and Max even if she hadn’t thought that they'd get over themselves and admit that they felt something for each other. It also helps that the distance has helped with the hurt she feels seeing them. It’s more bittersweet than anything to see them so happy together.

He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Of course. Paul is interested.” Her eyes go wide. “Paul is a child!” “He’s nineteen, that’s not a child.” Arthur denies. “And I’m twenty-three, same as you. I don't want to rob the cradle so to speak.” “Okay, no one that young.”

She watches as he thinks about it before smirking at her. “Ya know, Pierre and Kika have talked of having a third.” She scowls at him. “Maybe someone single and who isn’t best friends with Max or Charles.” “Fine.” he chuckles. “You know I only know people in motorsports, though. They will know them.” “I’m aware, Thur.” She gently prods his thigh. “Now, give me a name or two.” “Logan.” She feels blood rush to her face and looks away from her best friend at the sound of his name and Arthur’s eyes narrow.

“What is that about?” He reaches forward to poke at her temple that’s now facing him. “I may have slept with him.” “No.” He’s shaking his head when she looks at him again. “When?” “Last year at Abu Dhabi before his Williams testing.” She tells him, laughing when he gently hits her calves. “And you never told me?” “It happened one time!” She defends herself. “And we both agreed not to really talk about it.” He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. Do you want me to set you up? Give you his number?” Her eyebrows raise at Arthur having his number as she thinks about it.

She liked Logan, maybe not entirely like that, but she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. He was sweet, funny and earnest. She could see herself having a good time with Logan even if it didn’t end up being a relationship that lasted forever or went too serious. Afterall she had a good time with him the last time they saw each other.

“Yeah, I’d like his number.”

—

Arthur didn’t know how he had ended up in the house of the enemy (it was said enemy offering him to use his sim) but he was already regretting that he came over, especially with his brother being over as well and the fact that the enemy, or now two enemies wouldn’t let him use the sim.

“What is wrong with her?” “Nothing is wrong.” He repeats, feeling bored of their worries about Y/N. It was stupid that they thought he’d be this relaxed if something was wrong with her, she was his best friend after all, despite what Max and Charles liked to think. “Really? Because we haven’t seen her in a week, a week Arthur! We have been home.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her just today.” “So, she’s at home.” “No.” Arthur looks around the living space of Max’s place, eyebrows raising at the grand piano that now resides by some of his trophies. “I drove her to Nice, this morning.” “Nice?” Max eyebrows are furrowed. “She never goes to Nice.” Arthur shrugs, leaning back in his seat and taking out of his phone, swiping through his messages. “She has a date.” “She has a what!?” Arthur has to hide his smirk as the two Formula 1 drivers yell. “I’ve been trying to set her up with someone for awhile now. She finally said yes.” “With who?”

—

“This was really nice.” She smiles up at Logan, liking how she has to tilt her head up a bit to look at him with how they’re standing. “I had a really good time.” There’s a hand now resting on her waist and she shudders at the touch, at how Logan is looking at her, at how this whole day had gone. It had been so long since she went on a date, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.

“Maybe next time we could do this in London?” He grins at her, “Really?” “It wouldn’t be fair if only you were flying.” She pauses, “I need a bit of notice, but I could also do Florida.” His smile and eyes soften. “I’d like that. I’m going back for Christmas until the fourth of January. But maybe if our next date,” Her smile widens at the words next date, the quiet but sure confidence in them. “Goes well, you could fly down on the third and we do a little road trip, explore some of America.” “I’ve never been before.” “I mean, I’ve only really been to places for racing other than Florida.” “So, you’ve only been to Florida.” He laughs but nods, “yeah, only to Florida.” “I’d like that. Just tell me how much time you want to spend there and I’ll use my vacation days up.” “You don’t want to wait until our next date?” “I don’t think I do. Do you?” She asks, stepping closer. “No.” He murmurs and then he’s bending, their lips just separated. “I don’t think you do.”

—

She’s brimming with excitement when she gets to Arthur’s place. Her fingers keep brushing over her lips and cheeks where Logan had kissed her. Her mind keeps replaying his words, his laugh, the little sigh he gave when she kissed him again before they parted ways.

She doesn’t bother knocking on Arthur’s door, he had told her that if she wasn’t going to let him pick her back up that’d he keep the door unlocked for her so she could come straight to him after her date.

“Thur.” She calls, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I’m back, all safe and sound.” She rounds the kitchen counter, opening his fridge and stealing a beer before making her way to the living room and plopping down on his couch. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she can’t help but remember how excited Logan had gotten when he realized that her dress had pockets. The fresh memory, barely seven hours old, has her grinning again.

“So, it went well?” She looks up and sees Arthur standing in the entry of the living room, a beer in one hand while his other is taking a towel to his hair, explaining his silence. “It did. In a few days, I’m gonna fly to London, spend the day with him.” “It went really well.” He sits beside her, eyeing her. “You seem excited.” “I am.” She laughs. “It was just, it was so nice, Thur. And at first I thought maybe it was just going on a date, but on the way here, I think it was not only that but it was him.” He looks at her and wonders why he ever thought there was a possibility of her being in love with Max and Charles, not just liking them as she claimed, when after one date with Logan she looked like this.

—

“We’ve missed you.” Charles murmurs, holding her tight to him, Max has his arms around the both of them. “Where have you been?” He asks, pulling away to gently touch her face, to run his thumb under the dark circles that aren’t as prominent as they usually are. “I’ve been busy.” She tells him, squeezing Max’s arm that’s still wrapped around her before stepping away from the both of them. “Work always gets weird in December.” Max frowns, “Just work?” Her eyebrows furrow, “Not just work. But mainly.” “We’ve been home for over a week and this the first time we’ve seen you is all.” Charles smooths out the slight tension. “Usually we see you on our first day back and when we swung by your place you were never home, never made plans to see us, never just dropped in.” She smiles at Charles and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Max’s smile did the same thing to his heart as well.

“How has being home been? How are my loves?” She asks and then there’s two cats winding around her ankles and she’s bending to pet and coo at them. “Hello my loves! Look at you both, so pretty and handsome.” Max huffs out a laugh. “I swear you love them more than us.” “Oh absolutely.” She laughs. “Jimmy and Sassy are far better than you two. Huh babies?” She directs the last part to the cats who let her give them one more pet before darting away.

“How have you two been?” She asks when they all sit down in the living room, the three of them all on the large couch that Max’s living room holds. “We’ve been good.” Charles smiles, eyes lighting as he thinks of the past week that had been pretty much just him and Max. It had nearly been perfect, so close. Max nods. “I’m very happy Brad isn’t my trainer anymore, he’d have a heart attack if he saw what was in the fridge.” She laughs, whole face brightening. “You always do this in December though and it’s not as if you stop your training. It will be weird not seeing Brad.” “Rupert will be an adjustment.” The Dutchman sends Charles a look. “He won’t ever be in Monaco other than the GP. Not when Andrea is willing to work with me as well. We both know that Rupert is just to save face mostly.” “And to have a trainer with you in Red Bull.” Charles pouts at the two of them. “I don’t like this.” Max and her both share a look before laughing and she wraps an arm around Charles, giving him a side hug. “The poor baby.” She coos. He flushes at the word baby, nearly shuddering at the idea, the sound of both Max and her calling him baby at the same time.

“What have you been up to?” Max redirects, easily taking the focus off of Charles as his poor boyfriend takes a moment to compose himself. “Work mostly.” She gives a tired sigh. “Thankfully though I’ve only got another week and then I’m off until January twentieth.” Both of their eyebrows raise. “The twentieth? But you usually go back on the second or fifth.” “I have a bunch of vacation saved up. I want to use some of it to bring in the new year, start it off stress free, or as stress free as I can get.” “They still won’t let you go fully remote?” Max asks, frowning. She shakes her head. “No. Which is ridiculous considering that I’m allowed to go with you guys for race weekends and such as long as I do my work remotely. I mean, I’m already doing so much of it at home.” She shakes her head again and the smile that had been on her face is gone, whole face covered in stress. “Have you given any thought to leaving?” Charles is careful as he broaches the topic. He knows how much she loves the company she works for, despite them not allowing her to go fully remote. “A little.” Max rests his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze seeing her sad smile.

Charles, seeing the smile and the touch on the knee from Max, nudges her lightly. “We should go somewhere, the three of us. Right after the new year. Go to Bali, Malta, or Greece again.”

Greece had been amazing when they went, just before Max and him had kissed for the first time. Getting to see both of them enjoying the water and sun, skin all on display as she chased them around with sunscreen. The tipsy nights in the living room of where they were staying, furniture pushed back as they danced around, pressed all up against each other.

“Right after the new year?” Charles nods and Max joins him, also remembering Greece. “It would be fun. Another trip just the three of us.” “I have plans right after the new year.” Both of their eyebrows furrow. “Plans?” Charles asks. Her eyes drift to her lap for a second. “Yeah. I started seeing someone and we agreed to do a roadtrip. I’m gonna fly out on the third to meet him.” “Oh.” “Is it serious? Between you two?” She smiles at Max, “I don’t know yet. It’s still early.”

—

“I’m not telling you. It is none of your business.” Arthur tells Charles, a frown on his face. “Arthur,” “No.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice like Charles has, obviously not wanting Lorenzo or Maman to hear him. “C’mon Arthur. What if he doesn’t treat her right? Hurts her?” His jaw twitches, lips thinning. “You really think that? That I’d set her up with someone that might hurt her? She’s my best friend, Charles. I wouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” Lorenzo asks, as he and Maman join them at the table again, Charles’ face having softened, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Y/N started seeing someone. I set her up. Charles wants to know who.” “Charles.” Maman scolds and he ducks his head. “I just,” he stops, struggling. “Max and I didn't think that she’d start seeing someone. We thought we’d have time.” Lorenzo's face looks a lot like Arthur thinks his face looks like. “You have to be joking.” “What?” “Charles, you and Max are lovely together. We are happy for you. But you got together knowing that you also wanted her in the relationship as well, but you never did anything about it. It’s been six months and you still haven’t done anything. You can’t begrudge her for finding some happiness.” “No.” Charles shakes his head. “Never.” He glances at the faces of his family. “We know that we may be too late. We just want to make sure she is treated well, right. Is taken care of and is happy. Max and I love her, we want the best for her.” “Arthur wouldn’t set her up with someone he thought would make her unhappy.” “I know.”

—

“Logan!” She squeals as he picks her up, his chest dripping with water pressed against her back. “Put me down!” She laughs. He laughs as well and does put her down, but quickly spins her around, the two now chest to chest. “That better?” She loops her arms around his neck, nodding. ”Much better.” Tilting her head she presses their lips together, humming when he presses her somehow even closer.

—

yourusername

Liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2778 others yourusername: Florida, you have treated me so well and I couldn’t think of a better place to start the roadtrip off, though it does pain me to leave. First stop is New Orleans! (and until next time Miami, I miss you already)

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charlesleclerc: Looks beautiful user1: You look so pretty!!! And that water! arthurleclerc: Did he not tell you about other things in Florida? ⤷ yourusername: but the beach Thur, the beach! user2: Ooh a boy user3: Charles commented!!!

yourusername

Liked by paularon, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 1521 others yourusername: New Orleans! Beignets are a must now and I will be attempting to learn to make them as soon as I’m back home (along with gumbo, oh my god). Thank you for buying me about a hundred beignets in two days and coffee!

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maxverstappen1: Will you share? ⤷yourusername: of course, Max! user4: Love that bar! user5: Where’s your next stop? ⤷yourusername: our next stop is Dallas/Fort Worth! user6: Beignets are so good, I don’t blame you for eating nearly a 100

yourusername

Liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 3028 others yourusername: When in Texas, cowboys hats are a must! (though they make kissing a bit difficult) We both had only been to the Austin area, so getting to see a bit of Dallas and Fort Worth was lovely (not pictured me crying from happiness as I pet a horse and my boyfriend laughing at me) Next stop is Phoenix, Arizona

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arthurleclerc: I’m going to need that picture ⤷yourusername: Not happening user7: I know we talk about the girlfriend effect, but can we talk about the boyf effect??? My girl seems to be glowing ⤷user8: for real! Whoever he is, he is treating her good charlesleclerc: I am familiar with that part of Texas ⤷yourusername: Definitely user9: Every post makes my dreams of the lestappeny/n throuple die ⤷user10: THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! ⤷user9: girl, tell that to Max and Charles

—

“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrows furrow at the weird tone in Charles’ voice. “What?” “Your instagram post. You call him your boyfriend.” It’s weird for Max to be the one clarifying. It’s always Charles between the two to do it. “Yeah. I mean that happened in Florida. Right after I got off the plane he asked me.” She smiles at the memory of the candy in his hands, the little anklet with the letter L on it that he gave her in the car. “And he is good to you?” “Yes. He’s the best, Cha.” “Maybe we can meet him when you get back? Before the season starts.” She glances at Logan, who is talking on the phone, his free hand gesturing. “Do you want me to invite Arthur as well?” “No.” Charles’ answer is swift as is Max’s. “If you trust him, we can trust him.” She smiles, eyes crinkling when Logan winks at her. “Of course. We’ll be in Monaco in a week and half for a few days before he goes back to London. Let me know when you're free, yes?” “We will look. Be safe.” “Wear lots of sunscreen!” “I will!”

—

yourusername

Liked by jensonbutton, maxverstappen1, joristrouche and 1023 others yourusername: Thank you to the random person for taking our photo and I promise we didn’t just look at cacti while in Arizona. Time for our next and last stop California!

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user11: Your welcome! You and your bf were real sweet! ⤷yourusername: Too kind! jensonbutton: You two up for some babysitting? ⤷yourusername: Jenson… you better not be joking about getting to watch the baby buttons ⤷jensonbutton: I would never arthurleclerc: I just know he touched a cactus user12: Every day we get closer to finding out who she’s soft launching

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, logansargeant and 2,064 others yourusername: California! The last state on this trip! It’s been fun and hopefully next year we can do another road trip and explore some other states (perhaps in a few years have all 50 checked off).

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user13: I didn’t realize that they had been together for so long user14: Is that Laguna Seca? ⤷yourusername: It is! user15: Race track!!! arthurleclerc: Can’t believe he got you to go karting user16: The club vibes in the last photo

brittnybutton

Liked by yourusername, jensonbutton, jamesharveyblair and 3,218 others brittnybutton: Thank you yourusername and boyfriend for watching the kiddos! Loved having you stay with us for the two days.

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yourusername: Thank you for letting us! jensonbutton: Well behaved bunch they were user17: Brittny is helping her soft launch… I can’t user18: yourusername would be such a good mom user19: parents

—

“Max! Charles!” Her voice is bright, smile wide and Max swallows thickly, wrapping his arms around her. “You look good.” He tells her, pressing his lips to the top of her head before letting her go, Charles eagerly swooping in to hug her.

She’s glowing, Max thinks as he watches Charles and her hug. His boyfriend murmuring some compliment or complaint in her ear as he gently sways her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this happy before. It hurts but is also relieving to see.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Max asks when Charles finally lets her go. She smiles at Max as they all sit down at the table, a spread of food and drinks already laid out, plates and silverware in front of them. “He’s changing.” “Do we get to know his name? Or will we,” Charles starts to ask but his voice dies in his throat making Max look at him in concern before following his gaze and understanding fills him. “Logan, hi.” The Williams driver smiles at them, sitting in the empty chair next to Y/N. “Hey guys.” Max watches as she beams at Logan, her whole face just brightening before she looks at them, a sorry smile on her face. “I should’ve told you both sooner, who it was, but I didn’t know how.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We are just shocked is all.” “Very.” Charles agrees. “Arthur set you two up?” Max squeezes Charles’ hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I was a little shocked getting the message from him, didn’t even know he still had my number.” Logan laughs. “But he asked if I was interested, I was, so two days later I flew to France for our first day.”

“You two look happy.” She smiles at Charles before looking at Logan. “We are.” “And Jenson knew about it?” Max asks, remembering Jenson’s comments about babysitting and then his wife’s post. Logan blushes and she laughs. “Yeah, Jenson’s really been helping me out since July and I told him after she booked her tickets to Florida.” “That’s good. It’s always nice to have a grid dad, no?” Logan flushes even more as Max laughs. “Just because Seb treated you like a child does not mean we all need to have a grid dad.” “But, Lance had Checo, Oscar has Mark, you had Fernando.” “I didn’t have Fernando.” “You had Fernando.” She agrees with Charles. “He was the only driver not talking shit about you, Fernando was all about your chaos. He’s your grid dad.” Max pouts but it’s quickly chased away by a kiss to the cheek from Charles that makes him grin.

—

yourusername

Liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and arthurleclerc and 4274 others Tagged: logansargeant yourusername: Who knew a date in Nice would turn into this? Hoping for many more months (and years) with you.

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logansargeant: Happy 3 months baby! user20: 3 months??? user21: wdym they’ve only been together 3 months user22: She’s dating Logan? Crying user23: omg mom gave us a dad and it’s america man

@teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @namgification @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @fanboyluvr @darleneslane @ironspdy @eutrizbea @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @hiireadstuff @tallrock35 @casperlikej

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lestappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #sins 5k bday bash fics #sins fics

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rosemariiaa · 17 days ago

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𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙁𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎

“I’m afraid to see what’s in my head , So I lock it up in my heart”

00 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚, 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚.

rosie’s note: long awaited pazzi series.. let’s hope I can be consistent with these chapters and not forget about after a few weeks.happy ready lovelies ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: none!

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I’ve never been great with people. Sure, I can hold a conversation, crack a joke, make some friends. But there’s always this weird distance—like I’m just performing, pretending to be someone I’m not. The truth is, I’m not as confident as people think I am. I hate being vulnerable. But she made it easier.

I still remember the first time she reached out to me. Her message popped up on my computer late one night, while I was scrolling through my Blogspot—my little corner of the internet where I could just… breathe. No one knew who I was on there. Just a girl venting about life, school, basketball, and the tangled mess that was my head.

She said she’d been reading my posts for a while and liked them. She said she didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and honestly, I didn’t either. So we started messaging. At first, it was just random stuff—homework, teachers, the usual teenage nonsense.

But soon enough, she started opening up more. Things I never expected to hear. About her family. Her stepdad. The kids at school who made her feel invisible. She told me how her mom remarried, and how everything felt off after that. I didn’t know why she was sharing all this with me, someone she’d never met, someone who was practically a stranger. But there was something about it. Something that made it feel right.

We got into the deeper stuff too—the insecurities, the self-doubt, the anger at things we couldn’t control. And yeah, I shared my own stuff too. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough. My parents getting divorced. Moving from place to place. The pressure to be perfect all the time. I guess it’s easier when you don’t have to show your face. She wasn’t some random person to me anymore. She was… real.

She called me “her safe space.” And for some reason, I was okay with that. I think I needed her as much as she needed me, even if I couldn’t admit it back then. It was like she understood me in a way no one else did.

But the thing is, I never told her who I really was. She didn’t need to know I was Paige Bueckers, the basketball player everyone at school thought they knew. She didn’t need know I was just a girl trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.

It was just us. She and I. We could be ourselves without pretending. And that felt… like a goddamn relief.

But that was the thing—she was just an anonymous name on a screen. I didn’t know who she was either. Not really. I only knew what she shared, what she let me see.

Then came that night. The night I saw her name pop up in the chat, just like always. But this time, it wasn’t just her usual message. It was a question. “What if we could meet? Like, in real life?” Oh.

I froze. And my stomach did this weird flip.

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t even know if I wanted to. What if she was someone I knew? What if she was someone I was supposed to hate? What if… it was her?

————

tag list ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @mrsarnold @d3arapril @authentic-girl03 @absolutelydreadful

#pazzi #halfway strangers fic #rosie’s works 🎧⋆｡ °⋆#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #fic talk

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m4rv3l-girl · 20 days ago

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Vanilla - Part 2

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky gets the rope out….

Note: Plenty of you guys asked for it 😉

Part 1 if you missed it

Requests Open!

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Unprotected P in v sex. Rope play.

Bucky’s thumb brushed over the length of rope in his hand, glancing toward the bedroom where the soft light spilled out into the hallway.

He’d spent weeks considering how to approach this, almost as long as he’d kept his promise to her, with his mind turning over possibilities and wondering if this might be the perfect answer to her casual suggestion one evening to “spice things up.”

After a few conversations and a fair share of nerve-steeling, he’d finally worked up the courage to present the idea. His palms felt a bit clammy, and a rare touch of nervousness flickered through him. Bucky wasn’t exactly known for restraint once he was certain about something, but he wanted tonight to be careful, to listen, to read every signal she might send.

Bucky stepped into the bedroom, watching her gaze shift from the paperback she’d been reading to the length of braided silk in his hands. He had barely even spoken a word, but your lips curved upward slightly, cheeks already warming.

“Bucky,” she murmured, sitting up against the headboard. “What’s that?”

“Just a little something I picked up,” he replied, his voice low and easy, though his pulse felt anything but. “Figured I’d keep my word. Thought this might be fun, but I want it to be perfect, too. So… if you’re interested?”

She set her book aside, tilting her head as her eyes scanned over him, a playful glint surfacing. “Oh, so we’re really doing this,” she teased, arching a brow. “Go on, tell me what you had in mind.”

Bucky’s grin widened as he moved to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. He took her hand, running his thumb along the back of it slowly. “I’d be taking my time with you,” he murmured, his tone velvet. “Tying you up, doing what I want to you. You’d feel safe, yeah?” His eyes searched hers, waiting for any sign of hesitance, any flicker that might suggest otherwise.

When none came, his confidence swelled.

“Close your eyes for me, Kitten?” he whispered.

She hesitated for only a beat before obliging, settling back as her lashes fluttered shut, and Bucky took a moment to study her like this. Completely relaxed, utterly trusting, each breath she took grounding him as he felt the warmth in his chest settle into something far deeper. He brushed his knuckles along her jawline, leaving a delicate trail as his voice filled the silence.

“Now, if you ever feel uncomfortable… you’ll tell me, right?”

Y/N nodded, barely suppressing a shiver at the deliberate slowness of his touch, his hand ghosting over the curve of her shoulder before resting at her collarbone. He took his time, letting the moment stretch. Then, with almost ceremonial slowness, he looped the rope around one of her wrists, keeping his motions precise and featherlight.

His voice softened, barely above a whisper. “Does this feel alright?”

“Perfect,” she murmured, the word rolling off her lips almost dreamily. her skin tingled, every little movement and brush of his fingertips amplified as he continued working with skill and patience, never once letting the rhythm falter. It wasn’t long before he was binding her other wrist, each knot soft yet securely in place, made for her alone.

He watched her reaction, noting every shift and breath, studying her like he was trying to memorize each response. “I told you I’d keep it interesting, didn’t I?” His words were a gentle tease, but beneath them lay a genuine affection that pulsed in the space between them.

He took her hands in his, leaning close until his breath fanned over her cheek. “You know we can stop if you want.”

When he finally secured the knot with a flourish, she tested the bind, finding it firm yet yielding to the touch. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for one final nod of consent before the real fun began.

Her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation, Y/N nodded her reassurance.

Bucky's eyes lit up with a gentle thrill at her trust, his touch growing bolder as he trailed the rope up her arm, his fingertips leaving a delicious friction in their wake. With the same meticulous care, he began to bind her other wrist, the rope whispering against her skin. Each loop and tug was a silent promise of pleasure yet to come, a dance of restraint that thrummed with a newfound intimacy

As he worked, he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across her face. "Relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm."I'll take care of you."

The final knot was tied, and he placed a tender kiss on her bound wrist, the gesture a silent reassurance that she was safe with him. With both her wrists secure, Bucky took a moment to admire his handiwork, his eyes lingering on the stark contrast of the rope against her pale skin.

He could see the goosebumps that had risen in response to his touch and the quickening of her pulse in the vein at the base of her throat. Satisfied with her comfort and his own growing desire, Bucky stood, the rope in his hand pulling her gently towards the edge of the bed.

He had more plans for the rope, and for the bound beauty before him, eager to explore the new dimensions of trust and desire that this playful bondage had introduced into their relationship.

Guiding her with the rope, Bucky directed Y/N to stand in front of the full-length mirror that dominated one wall of their room.

He secured her bound wrists to the top of the bedpost, ensuring she was standing with her face to the mirror.

The position allowed her to see everything that was happening in the reflection, which only heightened the excitement coursing through her body. His eyes never left hers in the mirror as he stepped back to appreciate the erotic tableau they created together. He could see the way her chest heaved with each shallow breath, the way her pupils had dilated with anticipation.

"Spread your legs," he instructed softly, and she obeyed, the rope around her wrists pulling taut as she leaned back slightly. The anticipation grew as he picked up the trailing rope, using it to create a soft, figure-eight loop around one ankle, then the other, before securing them both to the bottom corners of the bed. The tension in the ropes created a delicate tug, keeping her legs apart and exposed to his hungry gaze.

Y/N felt vulnerable yet incredibly powerful in her submission, and the look of admiration and desire in Bucky's eyes reflected back at her only amplified her arousal.

The air was charged with a new kind of energy, one that promised an unforgettable experience that would deepen the bond between them.

With Y/N now fully bound and exposed before him, Bucky took a moment to appreciate the beauty of her vulnerability. The ropes framed her body like an erotic sculpture, accentuating her curves and leaving her most sensitive areas open to his exploration. His heart raced with a mix of excitement and tenderness as he took in the sight of her, the trust she placed in him making him feel more connected to her than ever before.

He stepped closer, his hands tracing the rope that held her in place, his fingertips brushing lightly against her skin. "You look absolutely breathtaking," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He could see the reflection of her blush in the mirror, the way her eyes darkened with desire.

Moving with the grace of a predator, Bucky leaned in to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin just hard enough to make her gasp.

He felt the shiver that ran through her body and knew he had her full attention. With the rope as his guide, he began to explore her body, his hands following the path the restraints had laid out for him. His touch grew firmer, more demanding, as he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples until they peaked beneath the fabric of her shirt.

The moan that escaped her lips was music to his ears, spurring him on. His hands moved lower, tracing the contours of her torso, the fabric of her clothing the only barrier between them.

He watched in the mirror as her hips swayed, searching for the friction she craved, and he knew it was time to remove that final obstacle. With a deft twist of his hand, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her nakedness to the cool air and his heated gaze.

With a low groan of need, Bucky stepped back, his eyes never leaving Y/N's reflection.

He took a moment to appreciate the art he had created, her body bound and open to his every whim. He reached down, his hand caressing her inner thigh before sliding up to graze the damp fabric of her panties.

Y/N's hips bucked in response, and he knew she was ready. With a wicked smirk, he bent down, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "Patience, darling." He gently slid her panties aside, revealing her glistening folds. His thumb began to circle her clit, the pressure just enough to keep her on edge. "Like this?" he asked, watching the play of pleasure on her face.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nodded, the only answer she could give as she focused on the sensations building within her. Bucky's other hand slid behind her, one finger slipping inside her with a slow, deliberate ease that had her gasping for more. He watched as she strained against the ropes, the tension in her body echoing the tension in his own.

His movements grew more insistent, his finger curling to find that sweet spot deep within her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their breathing and the faint rustle of the ropes against the bedpost as she writhed in response to his touch. The whole situation had her teetering on the edge of release within seconds. He knew he had her on the precipice, and with one final, firm stroke, he sent her hurtling over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.

As she rode the waves of pleasure, Bucky removed his hand, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

As the final tremors of Y/N's climax subsided, Bucky couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He stood up, his own desire clear in the tightness of his jeans.

He stepped closer, his erection pressing against her thigh as he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "Ready for more, Doll?" he asked, his voice gruff with need. She nodded eagerly, her eyes pleading for him to continue. With a smirk, Bucky took the rope attached to her ankle and began to loop it around his hand, creating a physical bond between them.

The sight of them bound together in such a primal, intimate way was almost too much for her to handle. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was filled with the promise of more pleasure to come. His hands began to explore her body once again, his touch growing more urgent as their passion flared.

He knew that the next steps in their erotic dance would push them both further, but the trust shining in her eyes was all the reassurance he needed to proceed.

His fingers trailed the ropes up her legs, caressing her skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. With a gentle tug, he guided her closer to the bed, the rope still taut between them.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, "On the bed, on your back."

He watched as she complied, the rope around her ankles stretching with the movement, keeping her legs open and accessible to him. Bucky climbed onto the bed, his gaze never leaving hers, and positioned himself between her thighs. He knew he was going to give her a night she would never forget, a testament to the love and trust that had grown between them. With a final, lingering kiss, he began to unbuckle his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor like a starting pistol for the passionate marathon that was about to unfold.

As Bucky freed himself from the confines of his pants, his erection stood proud and ready, a clear reflection of his desire.

He reached down, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand before his fingers slid down her neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone, and then further down to tease her hardened nipples. She arched her back, gasping into this neck as his thumb and forefinger pinched and rolled the sensitive flesh.

The anticipation was exquisite, her body trembling with need.

With a low growl, Bucky leaned over her, his eyes dark with passion. He claimed her mouth once again, the kiss deep and demanding, as he positioned his hips in alignment with hers. He felt her wetness against his shaft, and the heady scent of her arousal filled the room.

He knew she was ready.

With one swift movement, he pushed into her, the ropes holding her in place as she moaned into his mouth.

Her inner walls clenched around him, welcoming his intrusion, and he knew in that moment that this was where he belonged – deep inside her, connected in every way possible. The feel of her bound and open to him was intoxicating, and he began to move with a rhythm that matched the racing of their hearts.

He grabbed the rope in his flesh hand, pulling it up, pinning her wrists above her head as his hips continue relentlessly.

Each stroke was deliberate and powerful, as if to claim her soul with every thrust. He watched her eyes roll back, her breaths come in shallow gasps, and knew she was lost to the sensation as much as he was.

Their bodies moved in a symphony of passion, the ropes that bound her serving as a silent testament to their mutual surrender. His strokes grew deeper and more urgent, each one setting her nerves alight with pleasure that built higher and higher.

Her hands gripped the bed sheets, pulling them taut as she tried to hold on to something amidst the whirlwind of sensation.

Bucky's eyes never left hers, the connection between them growing stronger with every shared moan and every intimate touch. His metal thumb found her clit, and with expert precision, he began to rub it in slow figure eights that had her hips squirming up against him, seeking more of the delicious friction.

The intensity of their union grew as Bucky's thumb continued to tease her, his eyes dark with desire and focus. He could feel her body tightening around him, each pulse of her core a silent plea for release. He increased his pace, the slap of their skin filling the room, echoing the pounding of their hearts.

Suddenly, Y/N’s body tensed, her eyes widening as the first waves of her climax crashed over her.

She cried out, her muscles clenching around Bucky's shaft as he felt her release, her entire body shuddering beneath him. The sight of her pleasure was his undoing, and with a final, powerful thrust, he too found his release, their mingled cries of ecstasy piercing the quiet of the room.

For a moment, they remained connected, both of them lost in the aftershocks of their shared passion. Then, with a gentle kiss, Bucky pulled out and reached for the ropes, releasing her from her bonds with the same care with which he had bound her. They collapsed onto the bed, their limbs tangled, hearts racing, and bodies slick with sweat.

Bucky had carefully untangled the ropes from her body, his movements tender and caring.

He could feel the delicate balance between her post-orgasmic bliss and the beginnings of her sleepyness. He didn't want her to feel cold or uncomfortable, so he scooped her up into his arms, feeling her weight settle against him comfortably. "You okay, Doll?" he murmured into her ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.

She nodded, her eyes still closed, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Where are we going?” She murmured.

He carried her to the bathroom, the cool air brushing against her skin making her shiver. “You need to pee, Kitten.” He set her down gently beside the toilet, his hand never leaving her waist to ensure she was steady on her feet. He watched with gentle concern as she did what she needed to do, his own satisfaction momentarily forgotten as he focused on her well-being.

When she was done, he picked her back up, cradling her against his chest, and walked back to the bed, placing her down gently before climbing in beside her.

He pulled the covers over them both, wrapping her in his warmth as they lay there, hearts gradually slowing, bodies still humming with the echoes of their shared ecstasy. He kissed her forehead, stroking her hair back from her face, and whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she curled into him, feeling cherished and protected.

“You’re so perfect, Honey. My best girl.”

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Soooo…You all wanted Bucky to get the rope out, did he do well..? 🤔

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky smut #marvel #ropebondage

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