#and i could never thank them enough for it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Hiii, Iâm not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, havenât had sex yet. One day theyâre working out together at Landoâs house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando canât help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him whatâs wrong and before he answers she realises heâs horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor
In the heat of it | LNâŽ
ïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïč
đ REQUESTED by anon ââââ Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something đ„”
ïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïč
none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.
© trashy track tales, 2024
ïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïč
đ summary ââââ They've been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.
đ pairing ââââ Lando Norris x she/her reader
đ rating ââââ explicit
đ category ââââ F/M
đ warnings ââââ +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior. MDNI!
đ word count ââââ 3.6k
đ date ââââ Nov. 12, 2024
đ a/n ââââ Enjoy watching Lando learn that some cardio sessions have unexpected side effects đ€đ
ïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïč
ïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïčïč
IT DOESNâT TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.
The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco's streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it's the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.
The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.
They are already halfway through their warm-up. Sheâs pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises heâs walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn't match the exercise.
Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive â curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. Heâs all energy, fluid in his movements, though he's clearly trying to keep his pace casual.
âLookinâ strong,â he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.
The girl shrugs, âIâm just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.â
Lando lets a chuckle out, âI won't go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But itâs cute to see you trying.â
Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando's imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.
Heâs now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. Sheâs supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she canât resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.
âHi there,â says the girl in a soft tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.
Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. âDonât,â he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.
âIâm not doing anything,â she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.
He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. âOutrageous is what you are.â
She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.
Luckily, he doesnât pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower â much real â making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.
âAnd you are so fun to corrupt,â she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.
After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn't even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn't have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it's been there ever since. Forgotten.
Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.
Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.
Unaware of the effect she's having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intenseïżœïżœwarmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent â he's just respectfully looking â until it isn't. Until he feels it in his boxers. Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.
Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it's natural and that he's just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.
âAre you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?â she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Landoâs face.
Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, âYeah, never better.â
It's his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what's going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.
âAm I too dictracting, Lando?â she purrs, her question â and the fact that he knows she caught him in act â not helping at all.
âNo,â he lies, âBut I think youâre killing it with those squats.â
âAnd if I turn around to finish my set, what then?â she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.
His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. âThen you would be killing me,â he admits with no restraints. âSo, by any means, proceed. Please.â
She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he's in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. Itâs still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what sheâs actually doing to him.
Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck, and rising to her cheeks. Her heart is slowly starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.
Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.
âHow can I help you?â asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it's not that hard to read.
She chuckles nervously, âThe question is how can I help you?â
In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there's nothing stopping them anymore.
In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison â a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.
He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, âThat enough of an answer?â
âPositive,â she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.
Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.
âFucking hell,â his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.
âYeahâŠâ she agrees, breathing hotly above him, âDid I do this to you?â
Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety â deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.
It makes her ache for him.
She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing softly over his swollen tip.
The workout itself had left Landoâs muscles burning, but her touch itâs something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything heâs felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.
Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.
That's his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he's hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.
âHi there,â Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.
She wants to talk back so badly â one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves â but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.
âDriving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,â he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, âAnd your pretty fucking nipples.â
âLandoâŠâ she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.
The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes â itâs all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.
Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin â who says heaven isn't real?
But if that's heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good â much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.
Lando starts slowly at first, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. Itâs not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.
âLan⊠yes,â she starts panting, âThatâsâyes, right there.â
He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she's so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.
If that's even possible.
The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.
She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.
Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like heâs witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that sheâs here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful,â Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn't started drooling all over her in the meantime. âAll of you.â
âYour turn,â she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.
He agrees that it's a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting â because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is â Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.
Matching the same pace, Landoâs hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window â or that's what she thought. Confused at first, she's frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants â a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.
She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how heâs finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal â so intimate and vulnerable in a way thatâs completely new for both of them.
Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.
âFuck, baby,â he whispers, âYou're so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,â adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around his head.
To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as sheâs about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.
âLanâŠâ she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, âYou⊠feel so good,â she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.
Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.
âSee how silly you look for thinking we won't match?â he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, âSee that? Taking all of me so well, baby.â
âLando,â she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it's way too slow, even for him.
It's simply agonizing.
âSo perfect around me,â he states, âCan't believe I lasted that long. Should've fucked you from the first night.â
At this point, he's just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.
âYou would've let me, wouldn't you?â
âYes,â she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, âI would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver's room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club⊠Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.â
His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.
âWhââ he almost chokes on words, âWhy didn't you say anything?â
âYouâstressed about work. I⊠I didn't want to beâdistraction,â she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. "Like that, mhm, yes!"
âYou're so tight, fuck,â he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. âI'm so close.â
She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.
All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.
She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando's hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she's being fucked.
âLanâLando,â she's so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it's too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.
The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.
She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.
âWe're so fucking matching, baby. Let's gooo!â exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.
She feels her cheeks warm, âI think youâre a little biased right now,â she jokes.
Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle.
âI'm just happy.â
Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.
âAnd very sweaty,â she adds with a chuckle.
âI'm pretty sure that's you,â he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.
âMhm?â she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.
âWhere do we go from here?â asks Lando.
âYour bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.â
thank you for reading!
reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated â„ïž
#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#lando norris imagine#lando norris fic#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#motorsport#one shot#smut#f1blr#writers of tumblr#trashy track tales#fan fiction#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#ask box#request#ln4 one shot#x reader
523 notes
·
View notes
Note
Not to be the little gremlin obsessed with Chappell Roan BUT⊠reader thinking Logan is too cool to want a proper relationship with them, so when things get physical they insist things are just âcasualâ in order to protect themselves from getting hurt. But secretly youâre in love with each other, so honestly, neither of you want things to be casual at all⊠(mutual pining my beloved) please & thank you!! Love you!
ahh hi hi avo I LOVE this song, and this request, and you - I could so see this being a situation that Logan and reader find themselves in. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it! (I added a couple winks to the lyrics as well.) đ thank you so much for sending this to me!!!
casual | variant!logan howlett x f!reader
1.2k | posessive!logan, fwb(???), use of alcohol, mutual pining, references to oral sex and PiV.
It doesnât matter that your heart flips when you look at him. Itâs Logan. Itâs just casual.
It certainly feels like a dream, watching your worlds collide.
The heft of Loganâs palm fitting into your friends as he shakes their hand - the five of you squeezed into your usual booth in the corner of the bar.
Youâd say the past couple weeks had seemed that way, as well. A late-night dose of bravery spiraling into something so raw and intense and real, that you feel like you could choke on it.
Even now, thereâs heat in your cheeks as your eyes flick his way. Something stirring in your chest at the way his other arm slings across the back of the booth almost possessively.
But like all dreams, there comes a moment where you have to wake up.
Because you know itâs not.
Because you know your feelings arenât requited. How could they be, when itâs Logan youâre talking about?
A legend.
A lone wolf.
Someone important, someone whose name carries a weight. Who saved the world, from what Wade tells you.
And youâre - you.
So even if you know what he looks like beneath that flannel, know what his mouth feels like when it presses against yours - what he sounds like, when he comes - you know that this is nothing.
Itâs casual. A distraction, for both of you.
And if thatâs how it has to be, then youâll do your best to show him youâre cool with it.
You just hadnât expected this moment to come so soon. It had been a genuine offer, your âyou wanna come with?â when the hour rolled around for your weekly trivia night.
Not thinking his head would cock to the side. The look heâd give you - that arched brow, as his fingers splayed out across your bare hip. Still crowded together on your couch, sweat-dewed.
The âsure, sweetheartâ that slipped out.
And now youâre introducing him as your friend - that quick history youâve perfected - rattling off the âyou know, Wade from workâs roommateâ even though Wade didnât work at the dealership anymore.
He had made enough of an impression that none of your friends had forgotten.
And you ignore the bitter jolt in your stomach, when all Logan does is hum.
You think you must have assumed right.
He doesnât correct you.
Logan quickly solidifies himself as an asset to the team. He gets a lot of the history questions that youâve always struggled with. A shy quirk of his lips when your friends cheer, and you get swept along with it.
His hand ending up on your thigh along the way. Squeezing, when you chime in. Almost as if forgetting - itâs easy to, when youâre having fun like this.
A low rasp in your ear, when the host takes a break.
âLemme get you another.â
You can only nod, as he eases out - taking your glass with him.
It only takes a second, before MJâs hand slaps down on yours.
âThatâs Logan?â She hisses - leaning forward, âThe one who-â
âYes.â You cut her off, ignoring the sideways glance her boyfriend gives you.
You never should have told her about that.
Had a hard enough time climbing into your car without thinking about it, yourself - the way he had man-handled you in the passenger seat. Thighs thrown over broad shoulders.
Fingers twined in his hair, as he made you moan in the dark parking garage. Too eager to make it up to your apartment.
She frowns, the words petering out, âBut I thought-â
Your teeth worry at your lower lip.
âYeah. Me too.â You sigh.
MJ knows how much you like him.
Really like him - butterflies, and everything. How itâs been years since you felt this way - slipping from you during that rushed phone call at 6 am the morning after your first night together.
Her eyebrows raise, and itâs a look you know well.
âItâs, you know.â Your hand waves, âItâs casual. Itâs-â
Itâs easier, this way.
Maybe if you keep repeating it, it wonât hurt as much when he moves on.
The look she shoots you is one of pity, just as a drink is set down in front of you.
Your teeth clicking against each other as the words are swallowed. Forcing a smile as Logan slips back in the booth next to you.
The next round starts a moment after, and itâs a welcome reprieve.
You miss the way his eyes narrow, as yours fix firmly on scorecard in front of you.
But you donât miss the way his hands stay folded on top of the table, for the rest of the night.
You suppose he must have remembered where he was.
âYou wanna come up?â
He lingers outside your apartment door, hands jammed into his pockets. That look from the bar is back - all dark, narrowed eyes.
A low sound in his throat, close to a scoff.
âThat what you want, sweetheart?â
Your eyebrows raise, âYeah. I do, I mean-, thatâs what we usually do, right?â
Heâs spent just about every night at your apartment. His things still scattered across your room. A leather jacket slung across the chair thatâs tucked against your vanity.
Loganâs lips twist at the edges, eyes dropping.
âSuppose we do.â Those hands slip from his pocket, crossing over his chest, âBack when I thought we knew what we were doing. But nowâŠâ
His head shakes. A tick in his jaw.
Your stomach drops.
âWhat do you mean?â
Logan huffs, âThe bar, baby. Is that how you really feel?â
A step closer, until heâs caging you in. Voice dropping, rough and low - near gritted out.
âDoes this,â His fingers flick between your chest and his, âfeel casual to you?â
Your heartbeat gallops behind your ribs.
âI thought-,â You manage, âThought thatâs what you wanted.â
Heâs too close, now. The dip of his head, those eyes burning in their shades of brown and gold.
âNow, why would you think that?â
You swallow, âBecause youâre you, and Iâm-â
âYouâre?â He prompts, but you go silent.
A sigh, when your head dips.
Unable to say it out loud.
âDriving me crazy all night, you know that?â He rasps, âGiving me those looks. Calling me your friend, when we both know your mouth was around my cock this morning.â
A low rumble in his throat, âWhen I still taste like you.â
Your breath hitches, as his hand thumbs at your jaw, tilting it up.
âLemme ask you again.â His mouth is close enough now to ghost against yours, âIs that how you really feel?â
Your head shakes.
âWanna be yours.â
Itâs breathed out, just as he kisses you.
His body pressing flush, as your hands twine around his neck. A palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens it.
Desire thrumming to life inside you, washing out the dregs of insecurity that youâve been carrying this whole time. Melting them away completely with the hungry sweep of his tongue, the way he swallows your soft moan.
Thereâs a flash of white when he finally leans back, with the curve of his lips.
âGood.â
His hand closes around the knob. A rough twist, as his another arm wraps around your waist.
Walking you backwards, into the dark.
âThe let me show you exactly how I feel.â
thank you so much, again!! đ
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlet smut#wolverine x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#requests#avocado-writes#eupheme answers#xmen x reader
451 notes
·
View notes
Text
My dad is a bigshot IT guy at his company (they design the digital infrastructure for banks and stuff, afaik), he's the guy all the other bigshot bankers go to when they need to do programs.
And he loves ChatGpt. He said it's useful for writing short programs and checking for stuff he missed, basically like talking to another programmer. Even if it makes a mistake he knows enough to identify the mistake and fix it. But for him it shaves off a lot of time off his tasks.
I'm a biologist, and since I'm still in grad school hell I have to write a shitton of seminars. He keeps insisting ChatGpt is an excellent tool that could help me. I did try using it at the start, things like 'give a basic overview of this topic' and 'reccomend me some papers on this very niche topic'. I thought it might be worth it if it spared me clicking to the 20th page of Google Scholar just to find a paper that I need for one sentence.
But honestly? I found it pretty useless. The overview bit I could have done just by going down the Wikipedia rabbitholes, and actually had fun doing it. Not a single paper it suggested was real, just made up titles and authors and even doi. Thank fuck I always went to check the paper itself before citing. It was generally an exercise in frustration with nothing to show for it. I literally do not have any problems in my life that this thing would be capable of solving, let alone solving them better than I can by clicking keywords into Google Scholar.
Dad keeps saying give it time, it keeps getting better at a fast pace. But he freely admitted it will never stop hallucinating, so I can't ever be certain what it's telling me is the truth. Usually that is solved by checking multiple sources and their credibility, but with ChatGpt? There are no sources. It's not even quoting anything. It's just stringing words together in a manner that looks 'natural' to the reader.
Maybe it's useful to my dad, who asks it to spit out a skeleton of a program he only needs to adjust, and only needs to run it to confirm it works. But for me? The only thing it can do is teach me wrong stuff and get me kicked out of uni.
"use chatgpt" that's the devil talking. buy four caffeinated drinks and pull an all nighter. this is the way.
60K notes
·
View notes
Text
waiting for the day to end
my masterlist
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriendâs drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yam!
You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.
Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.
The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.
You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.
âSorry,â Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.
He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.
You murmur under your breath, âIâll get you some water,â and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor.Â
In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water.Â
When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.
Youâve never really seen him like this.
Spencer rarelyâalmost neverâdrinks. But tonight, itâs obvious just how far gone he is. Heâs coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isnât fully present.Â
He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garciaâs birthday with a few drinks.
Now, heâs staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.
You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.
Spencer was different.Â
He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.
He was not a drunk.Â
You knew all this and tried to stay rational.Â
After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.
You had thought, knowing Spencerâs sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didnât.
You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping heâd realize and come find you, that heâd be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldnât reach him tonight.
As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached.Â
This wasnât the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.
âSpencer, are you okay?â you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.
He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. âYeah, just... tired,â he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.
Stop!
Spencer is not him!Â
He is nothing like him!
You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants.Â
Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?
Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes.Â
"Whatâs wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.
You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions youâve been holding back all evening. Heâs looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate.Â
Heâs here, yet somehow not fully here, and youâre not sure how to answer.
You force a smile, shrugging as if itâs nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just⊠tired, I guess."
Spencerâs gaze doesnât waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state.Â
Now he sees.Â
Heâs silent, watching you with a slight frown like heâs trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.
You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter.Â
"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but itâs there. A lot of it.
Heâs never seen you like thisânot this vulnerable, this close to tears. Youâve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.
"Iâll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.
His words are gentle, but theyâre not the reassurance youâre aching for.Â
You wish heâd tell you heâd never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesnât. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.
A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "Iâll let you get some sleep. Iâll go⊠take a walk or something."
As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "Itâs like 2 AM. Youâre not going anywhere alone."
You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say itâs fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like theyâre stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.
âLetâs take a walk together. Itâll help,â he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.
You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. âNo!â you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but itâs too much.
You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You donât want him near you right now.Â
The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though theyâre meant to comfort, feels wrong.
You canât breathe. You canât handle his touch, not like this, not after everything thatâs happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.
Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath.Â
The walls feel like theyâre closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.
Itâs not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.
Heâs just drunk, heâll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?
You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.
Iâm not that person anymore. Iâm not going to let this take me back. I canât let it.
Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps.Â
You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles.Â
You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.
Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.
Youâre lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when thereâs a gentle knock on the bathroom door.Â
You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.
âHey⊠uh⊠I really need to pee,â Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.
You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers.Â
You just want this day to end. You need it to end.
Then it hits youâyouâre in his bed.
You stand up and then sit again on the edge.
You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You canât breathe. You canât move.
Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. Iâll take the couch."
You donât say anything, unable to find the words.
He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.
You just need to sleep. Youâll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize.Â
Apologize for what?
He didnât do anything wrong.
Heâll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.
But sleep doesnât come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You canât shake the thoughts in your head.
What if he doesnât remember?
What if he wonât leave it and youâll have to explain and heâll be angry?
Why are you angry?
Why are you upset?
Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.
"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though youâre facing the window, your back to him.
You donât answer at first. You donât want to talk to him right now. You donât want to explain why everything feels broken. You donât want him to ask.
But you can feel him there, his presence.Â
Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. âPlease... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.â
You donât move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.
Spencerâs hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, Iâ" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.
But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You canât have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.
You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. âPlease donât touch me.â
The words hang between you like a heavyweight.Â
Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing â shallow, uneven â as if heâs trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.
You donât want him to feel hurt, but you canât help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.
âOkay,â Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe.Â
You donât look at him. You canât.Â
âIâm sorry,â he adds, his voice distant now, like heâs trying to find his footing again. âI just... Iâm not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I donât know how but Iâm sorry.â
The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you donât lift yours.Â
Finally, he clears his throat softly.
âIâll... Iâll sleep on the couch tonight,â he says, his voice gentle and careful like heâs trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.
âItâs okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. Iâll be here.â
You donât say anything. You still donât look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.
If only his words, his willingness to be there even when youâve pushed him away could make things better.
But you donât answer him, because you donât have the strength to. You donât know what to say.
Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.
The door opens and closes softly behind him, and youâre left alone in the silence of the room once more.
Spencerâs words echo in your mind, but they donât bring comfort. Not yet.Â
#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader angst#tw: alcholism
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
Iâm Sorry (Rafe Cameron)
Description: Rafe didnât tell the Pogues that Y/N (his wife and their ex best friend) (and JJâs ex) would be on this trip to get the crown with them.
Word Count: 2,558
Rafe didnât tell the pogues that his wife, their ex best friend, would be on the boat. JJ and her dated for a while but things didnât work out and she ended up in the arms of Rafe Cameron.
The pogues disowned her after they found out that she was dating him. She was heartbroken and Rafe put her heart back together. She was with him while he stirred the boat. The others outside the door talking about them.
She knew that they didnât trust Rafe and they probably didn't trust her. She didnât blame them but she had hoped that this would make them see that they could trust them, mostly her. âRafe, Y/N.â John B said the coupleâs names.
They both turned to look at the group that was by the door. âHey guys.â Y/N said but her voice was quiet. She hadnât talked to them in so long and to hear her name fall from his lips was crazy. âWe just want peace.â That would have been simple until JJ decided to punch him.
Y/N felt rage through her body at him doing that. Almost like JJ had always wanted to do that, probably has. âREALLY?â Y/N yelled at him. âI donât trust him, none of us do. Not sure if we even trust you.â He said. That had hurt her a lot.
She wasnât the reason their relationship ended, it was him. Rafe fixed her and sure he wasnât the best guy but it was enough for her. âIâm not the one who fucked you over JJ, you fucked over me.â Y/N said.Â
Y/N waited for Rafe to wake up. It was a battle but she convinced them not to tie him up. She had food and pain killers waiting for him. He woke a few hours after the incident and looked around, âHey babe. I brought you some food and painkillers.â Y/N told him.
He was pissed and wanted them off the boat after that but again Y/N had to convince him not too. âHe punched me. Letâs not pretend that this is just about me not being trustworthy.â Rafe said to her as they ate. Y/N raised her eyebrows.
He was probably right. âYeah well that was 3 years ago, Rafe.â She was over it and was even ready to forgive him but JJ didnât feel the same. Maybe JJ was still in love with her after all.Â
The boat started to rock like crazy causing them to get up and see what was going on. It was a disaster waiting to happen. The boat was crashing into the water and flooding. âGuys whatâs going on?â She asked. âThe storm.â Kie said. Y/N managed to make her way to where John B was.
JJ and Sarah are also there. It was bad, so bad to the point that Y/N ended up in the water. âY/N.â JJ yelled and grabbed a raft and threw it in the water. âIâm coming.â He yelled and jumped in the water after her.
Rafe got there just in time to see them get covered by a big wave. He screamed his wifeâs name and Sarah managed to hold him back so they didnât lose more people.Â
Rafe was crying and freaking out. The others had hope that they would turn up but Rafe had lost too much. They all felt bad and guilty that they treated them like that and realized that they arenât bad people. Y/N never was and she might be dead. Sarah couldnât help but cry.
Maybe it was the guilt or the sadness but she was crying so hard. Rafe was thinking about it so much. His wife was most likely dead and JJ jumped in after her. If they were alive he couldnât even be mad about it. What if JJ had saved her life but what if she realized that she still loved him?
Rafe was deep in thought that he didnât realize John B looking out in the distance at two people. âGuys.â Everyone looked over at the two people walking towards them. Rafe jumped up and ran to them. As he got closer he saw his wife and he laughed in relief.
She saw him and ran to him as well until they collapsed on the ground in a hug. Both of them were crying and saying that they love one another. JJ watched as the couple kissed and laughed in relief. He saved her life and though she was thankful, she was not going to leave rafe for him.Â
âI saved her life.â JJ tells the others as they all sit around the fire. âAnd I am thankful for that JJ.â She said to him. He couldnât meet her eyes, why was it that he thought she would love him all over again now? âThanks for saving her.â Rafe said to him.
Everyone was shocked by that but also it made sense. Y/N was his wife after all. Rafe wanted to be mad and yell at him but he couldnât. She might not be alive if it wasnât for him. But the thought of JJ and her together sickened him. Rafe wasnât an idiot and saw right through JJ.
He knew that JJ was hoping for her to love him again and thatâs what scared him. What broke him out of his thoughts was her yawning in his arms. âWell, Iâm tired. Goodnight guys.â She said. Rafe followed her to where she was sleeping and laid down next to her. He pulled her body right up against his and he felt her snuggle up against him.  Â
Hearing that Sarah was pregnant actually made Y/N happy. She knew that John B and Sarah would be good parents and she was very excited for them. Rafe and her wanted kids but Rafe was scared. He never wanted to treat his kids the way he was treated.
Sure he loved his dad but it wasnât a hidden fact that he wasnât the greatest dad. But Rafe had no reaction to hearing that Sarah was pregnant. Y/N wanted to ask him about it but they really had no time. When Rafe almost got arrested for something the others did, it slipped her mind.
And Rafe had a lot of questions for her when they were walking around. âDid he try anything after saving you?â He asked after buying them clothes. âNo. We barely talked.â Which was true. She thanked him and even hugged him but besides that they didnât talk. âDid he tell you that he was still in love with you?â She looked at him like he had three heads. She shook her head, âNo because he isnât.â Rafe wanted to argue that factor but instead asked another question.
âDo you feel anything for him after that?â âRafe, what?â She asked. âHe saved your life and did something I couldnât.â She rolled her eyes and huffed. Whether he was going to admit it or not she knew that was his worst fear. âRafe, I can assure you I donât love him. I love you.â She tells him.
Before he could respond he notices someone and pulls Y/N with him up against the wall. The people were talking about Groff. They listened and figured that he was close by.Â
Rafe didnât wanna leave her alone so he bought her a four wheeler and told her once he has Groff to speed off with them. She nods and waits for her man as he kicks some ass and gets Groff. Before Groff could say anything to her they drove off. She followed Rafe to wherever it was that he was headed.
She got off the four wheeler and Rafe immediately started to question Groff. Groff didnât even get to say anything to Y/N with how Rafe was questioning him. Groff didnât have the money anymore but he had the map to the treasure. Y/N gasped when they started fighting and Rafe took those things from him.
The Pendant was beautiful. Y/N couldnât wait to wear it but that slipped her mind as Rafe pushed him in the well. âHAHA CHECKMATE BITCH.â Y/N bit her lip, finding that hot but knew it wasnât the right time. He handed her the pendant and she put it on. âIt looks beautiful on you.â He winks at her. She smiled at him and he looked at the map. They had a long way to go.Â
âYou know it was really hot when you pushed Groff into that well.â She said to him. He looked over at her and smirked, âMy wife is a freak.â She laughed at him and shook her head, âAnything you do I find hot, Rafe.â He looked back at the map as they walked.
âYeah well I would love to fuck you right now after hearing that but we gotta get our money first.â She sighed. It was truly unfortunate that they couldnât. âGive me the pendant.â He says and she takes it off and hands it to him.
He tries to read the map with it but gets frustrated. âHere.â She said and took the necklace from him. She used to do this treasure hunting stuff with the pogues all the time. He smiled as he watched her figure it out.Â
Rafe, who had the map in his hand, held up his hands as they were held at gunpoint. Y/N also held up her hands and looked at her husband, nervously. âLet her go she has nothing to do with this.â Rafe tries but they donât care. âDrop the map.â Rafe nods and announces that heâs doing it slowly.
Y/N couldnât look anywhere but her husband, missing her old friends ready to shoot the guys holding them hostage. It was in a flash of a second that Sarah shot at them and Rafe took Y/Nâs hand and they ran. The pogues followed them. Rafe picked Y/N up and ran faster. She told him to wait as she saw the pogues but he didnât listen until they barged through the door. âNext time weâll let you get shot.â Kie tells him but Y/N thanks her. He sets Y/N down but still has the map. âGroff didnât have the money.â She says to the others.
âHand over the map.â Y/N looks at Rafe knowing he wouldnât go down without a fight. âRafe, baby give them it. They know what they are doing.â He looks at her, âYou also know.â While that was true this was their fight now. âDad would want us to work together.â Rafe was about to break. He believed that Sarah killed him. Y/N didnât. âRafe, they are willing to work together.â Y/N tries but he yells at Sarah saying that he couldnât trust her because of Ward. âDad died saving me. I was gonna die.â Y/N felt tears in her own eyes. âYouâre so quick to blame me for everything.â That was true. âYouâre gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life has besides Y/N. Sheâs the only one keeping me going. Youâll ruin that. Heâs trying to ruin that.â Rafe pointed at JJ.
JJ stayed silent as Sarah talked to him, âIâm all you have.â âBaby look at me. Sheâs telling the truth. I know them baby, they arenât bad people. Nothing will ever come between us.â Her heart broke at the sight of him crying. âWeâll still get our cut?â Rafe asked Sarah. âYes.â He goes to hand her the map but she pushes it away and she hugs him. Y/n smiled at the sight and rubbed his back as he tried to hold back tears.Â
âHun, Iâm going down there to stop them.â âNo.â âRafe, they are killers.â Kie said to him. He looks at the two of them. âIâm a killer too.â He says and if he said that at any other point, she would have been so turned on but right now they were on a mission. Kie and Y/N couldnât really see JJ but kept telling him to hurry up. He was trying but he was going to find it no matter what.
Y/N kept looking behind her hoping to see Rafe but she couldnât. She couldnât lose him and this was making her think she would. âJJ we have to go.â Kie yelled at him. He was reaching into the eye of the sand statue and it looked like he pulled something out but she couldnât be so sure.
The sand was everywhere. She heard yelling and cheering from him and smiled to herself. He got the crown. A few minutes later he showed them the crown and they all hugged. It was a nice feeling, one that she missed. They ran down to get the others and Y/Nâs mind was on her husband. She had to make sure he was okay.
She yelled his name as she looked for him but gasped as she saw Groff. She hid so he couldnât see her and he grabbed Kie. Y/N had to cover her mouth. She was hoping that he wouldnât hurt her but of course he was willing to trade her for the crown. They were so close.
Y/N watched as the trade was made and sighed in relief. She was glad her friends were okay. Sure she wanted the money back but their lives were and always will be more important. She turned to go find Rafe but heard Kie gasping. Y/N turned around and her eyes widened, her heart dropped and her soul left her body. Groff had stabbed JJ.
She didnât care anymore and ran over to him as Groff ran off. She thought about chasing him but didnât want to get killed. âJJ.â She cried and he looked at her. For once since they reunited he looked at her and he didnât look mad. Kie and her helped him to the ground.
âYouâre gonna be okay. We will get you out of here.â Kie said. JJ gave them a smile, âItâs okay.â âJJ we can get you help.â Y/N tells him. He looks over at her, âY/N Iâm sorry that I messed up with you and never gave you what you deserved.â âJJ I donât care about that stuff.â He could barely get out words but he had to tell her, âKie I never told you my wish.â Kie was crying.
âJJ itâs okayâŠâ âI have everything I could ever wish for right now.â He holds both of their hands. âMy best friend.â He looks at Kie. âAnd the woman Iâll always love.â He looks at Y/N. Y/N starts crying harder. âI love you both.â He said and his grip on their hands weakened. He was dead.
The others started showing up and everyone was crying. Rafe showed up and saw Y/N put JJâs hand in his lap. He couldnât even feel relief about this, nothing about it was. He wasnât jealous or mad cuz for once he knew that she was his and that no matter what they were together.
He got on the ground with her. âHey.â He said and she collapsed in his lap crying for her friend. âItâs okay baby. I understand and I promise you we will avenge him.â He whispered to her. One thing she learned about being married to Rafe Cameron was that he kept his word. Especially on Revenge.Â
#outer banks x reader#outer banks#outer banks season 4#obx4#obx#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#rudy pankow
376 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leaving it all behindâ Max Verstappen x Reader
Word count â 30.k
Warnings â smut p in v, mentions of blood and death no one important. Angsty at times but other than that we have soft max.
also I donât know why thereâs funky symbols throughout my fic it wasnât in the google doc. Also every thing in ** is supposed to be italics but I donât have the patience to do that.
Beta read/edited by @octavikravecell218 @crispysoup318 @sinofwriting
Summaryâ Max's life had always been planned out for himâa life he wanted nothing to do with. One night, while driving through the city, he meets a woman who wants to make him feel alive and love, something he has never experienced before.
Tagging - @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life e @charlesf1leclerc @charlesgirl16 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dreamyreveriie @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @llando4norris @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @omgsuperstarg g @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @anedpev @thenerdysimp
Leaving it all behind â max verstappen x readerÂ
The city lay dark and restless under the weight of the midnight clouds. Maxâs car glided down the empty streets, headlights slicing through fog that clung to the sidewalks. This part of town was his a
city carved out by generations of his family, each building tainted by their legacy. A legacy Max had always known would eventually fall on his shoulders.
He sighed, letting his hand fall from the steering wheel to drum absently on the gearshift. Nights like these always felt endless, each familiar street drawing him deeper into a life he was starting to question. Heâd been told countless times it was his birthright, his duty to keep things running, but in moments like this just him and the hum of the engine he couldnât help but wonder if this life was all heâd ever have.
That was when he saw her.
At first, it was just movement in the shadows, a sudden scuffle that drew his eye. A young woman struggled against two men, their laughter drifting cruelly into the night air. Before he could think, heâd pulled over, instincts taking over as he slid out of the car. His footsteps were silent, his expression deadly calm as he approached.
âLet her go,â he ordered, his voice cold enough to cut through the fog.
The two men turned, eyes widening as they recognized him, and the fear in their faces was unmistakable. Max had built a reputation; even in the dark underbelly of the city, his name held weight. They stumbled back, mumbling apologies before disappearing down the street, leaving him alone with the girl.
She looked up, breathing hard, her face partially hidden beneath strands of dark hair. Even under the streetlampâs dim glow, he could see the defiance in her eyes she wasnât the type to easily back down. A part of him admired that.
âYou alright?â he asked, softer now, watching her carefully.
She nodded, brushing herself off, her gaze wary but grateful. âYeah I didnât need saving, though,â she said, a spark of pride in her voice.
A small smile tugged at his lips. âI could tell,â he replied, âbut sometimes itâs nice to have backup.â
She huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flickering up to meet him. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence was charged and unexpected.
âThank you,â she murmured finally, her voice losing some of its edge. âI donât know what wouldâve happened if you hadnât come along.â
âWell, itâs a good thing I rescued you from danger,â Max said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood. He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Y/n regarded him with an arched eyebrow, her skepticism palpable. The remnants of adrenaline still coursed through her veins, but mixed with a tinge of fear, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Maxâs charm was disarming, but she couldnât shake the unease she felt in his presence.
âYeah, thank you for that, but I need to go,â she replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering nerves. She turned away, glancing over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in another unexpected situation. The weight of the moment hung between them, and with each step she took, she felt the distance growing a mix of gratitude and caution urging her to leave before she got too drawn in.
Max only nodded, watching as she turned to go. He didnât ask her name, but something in him twisted as he watched her walk away, that fierce determination etched on her face. She was like no one heâd met before. And he wanted to know more.
Over the next few days, she lingered in his mind like a melody he couldnât shake. He knew he shouldnât indulge this curiosity, shouldnât look into her life, but he couldnât resist. He had people at his disposal, and soon he had her name, her address, and details of her life that made his heart ache in ways he didnât understand.
When he learned she worked at a little bookstore downtown, he couldnât keep himself from stopping by one afternoon. He wandered in, pretending to browse the shelves, until he saw her head bent over a book, a faint smile on her lips.
She looked up, and surprise flickered in her eyes before recognition dawned. She stood, her hand brushing against a stray lock of hair as she offered him a tentative smile.
âI didnât expect to see you here,â she said, her voice soft but curious.
Max shrugged, feeling suddenly out of place. Heâd been to every luxurious spot in the city, but this small, cozy shop felt like another world. âJust passing by,â he said, though they both knew it was a lie.
They fell into an easy conversation, discussing books, the city, and life. And as the sun began to set, Max felt something foreign and unfamiliar start to build in his chest a longing that made him question everything he thought he wanted.
Weeks passed, and their paths continued to cross until friendship gave way to something deeper. With every conversation, every laugh, every quiet moment they shared, Max found himself wondering if he could leave everything behind. If she could be enough to pull him out of the shadows.
But he knew the cost of that decision. Leaving his familyâs empire wasnât simple; there were loyalties, enemies, and countless secrets that held him captive. Still, when he looked at herĂąâŹâwhen he thought of a life beyond the cityâs corruption and bloodshedĂąâŹâhe realized he wanted something different. Something he could only have if he let it all go.
As he stood outside her bookstore one evening, watching the light from within spill across the pavement, he made a silent promise: he would find a way to be with her. Even if it meant sacrificing everything heâd ever known.
Max leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the warm glow coming from the bookstoreâs windows. It was late, and the street was quiet. Inside, she was closing up a routine that had become as familiar to him as his reflection.
He shoved his hands in his jacket, watching as she tidied the display, her movements slow, practiced. Even after weeks of meeting almost every day, she had this effect on him. Every little thing about her held his attention and captured his heart as if it belonged to her.
The lights in the shop went out, and a few moments later, she stepped out. She started when she saw him, a hand on her heart as she let out a soft gasp. âDid you just stand there the entire time?â
Max shrugged, pushing off the wall as he took a step closer to her. He couldnât help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. âJust enjoying the view.â
She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. âYou need a better hobby.â
He chuckled, falling in step next to her as they began walking. âYouâre my hobby,â he teased.
She shot him a look, the kind that was meant to be disapproving but couldnât quite hide her amusement. âYouâre ridiculous.â
Max just smirked, his gaze flicking down to her hand, to the slender fingers that were curled loosely at her side. He ached to reach out, to take her hand in his. But there was something in himĂąâŹâmaybe it was the loyalty to the life heâd inherited, or maybe it was fearĂąâŹâthat made him hesitate.
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the streetlights casting long shadows around them.
âHey,â Max said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.
She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised in question.
âCan I ask you something?â
She nodded, her expression curious.
Max took a deep breath, bracing himself. âDo you think itâs possible to change? To make your path, even when you come from a life that feels...predetermined?â
Her expression softened, her gaze searching his face. âI think it depends,â she said slowly. âOn how badly you want it, how willing you are to fight and maybe even lose things along the way.â
Max nodded, her words echoing in his mind, both confirming and intensifying his doubts. Losing things...heâd be losing a lot by choosing a different lifeâhis familyâs legacy, their empire, his fatherâs trust. But even the thought of losing *her* felt unbearable.
âSo what if youâre not sure?â he found himself asking. âWhat if you have feelings you donât quite understand, but you know they wantĂąâŹÂŠmore?â
She regarded him silently, her eyes steady, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Max wondered if heâd said too much, or revealed too much. But then she looked away, a sigh escaping her lips. âThen Iâd say youâre either being braveĂąâŹÂŠor foolish,â she said finally, her gaze returning to his. âBecause love can make you do both.â
Max swallowed, the word *love* hanging heavily between them. Was that what this was, this intense feeling that seemed to consume him every time he was near her? But loving her was like lighting a match in a powder keg. Could he set everything on fire for her?
As the weeks passed, Max became a regular at the bookstore, his visits blending seamlessly into Y/Nâs day. Theyâd fall into easy conversations, and sheâd tease him about his âterrible tasteâ in books, which he took with a grin, never revealing that heâd never really read much for pleasure before he met her. The darkness of his past and his familyâs world seemed to fade in those quiet hours, and for the first time in his life, Max felt something close to peace.
The bookstore was a sanctuary. Away from the constant scrutiny, the threats, and the weight of his familyâs name. He could just be himself here, free to laugh and chat and listen to her it was her favorite place to be.
Max leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she moved between the shelves. There was a peacefulness to her rhythm, and he couldnât help but feel a little mesmerized. The way Y/Nâs fingers brushed over each bookâs spine, her expression relaxed, made it look like they belonged here among the pages and stories.
âSo,â he said, his voice barely louder than a murmur, âdo you ever get tired of organizing these shelves over and over?â
Y/N chuckled softly without turning around. âNot when I have someone to complain to about it.â
Max grinned, feeling a spark of warmth that was rare for him. âLucky me, huh?â
They both paused, letting the silence and the music fill the space between them. It was a shared comfort, a feeling that went beyond words. Here, in the stillness of the bookstore, Max almost felt as though they were the only two people in the world. Y/N finished sliding a book into place and turned, leaning against the shelf, her eyes meeting Maxâs. âYou donât have to stay, you know. Not much entertainment here.â
Max smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. âDepends on what you consider entertainment. Watching you argue with those books as they move themselves? Riveting.â
Y/N rolled her eyes, but Max caught the small, amused smile that slipped through. âKeep talking, and Iâll make you help. Alphabetize the romance section, maybe. Heard youâre a sucker for a good love story.â
He scoffed. âI think youâre confusing me with someone who has a heart.â
Y/N shook her head, the faint sound of JoJo filling the quiet again. She walked closer, books forgotten for a moment, until they were just a step away from him. âYeah? Then what are you doing here?â
Max felt a tug in his chest he couldnât quite ignore, his usual smirk softening. âGood question,â he murmured, more to himself than to them.
The air between them was thick with unsaid things. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the music and the shadows hold whatever words they werenât ready to say. Finally, Max cleared his throat, shrugging in that casual, detached way heâd perfected. âGuess Iâm just a sucker for bookstores. Quiet. No one is bothering you. Kind of place you can just be.â
Y/Nâs expression softened, her eyes searching his face as if she saw through every layer he tried to keep up. âThen youâre in good company.â
Maxâs gaze lingered on Y/N, watching the way her face softened in the dim light. He wasnât used to this, the quiet moments that seemed to slip under his skin, settling somewhere he couldnât shake off.
Y/N tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. âSo, whatâs the verdict? Am I decent company for a night at the bookstore?â
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. âI guess youâll do. Iâd say youâre good enough to pass the time, but then your ego might get out of control.â
âOh, please,â Y/N shot back, raising an eyebrow. âYour standards arenât that high. I saw you trying not to laugh at my jokes last week.â
Max scoffed, pretending to be offended, but a small smile betrayed him. âI wasnât laughing. I was horrified. Pure survival instinct.â
They both laughed quietly, the sound warm and intimate in the empty store. The music faded into another soft, slow song, and they let the silence settle over them again, neither one in a hurry to break it.
Y/N spoke first, a little softer now. âHave you ever thought about it? Starting over somewhere? JustĂąâŹÂŠ a different life?â
Maxâs usual mask faltered for a second, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. He looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. âStarting over, huh?â He let out a humorless laugh. âI think that ship sailed a long time ago for me.â
Y/N stepped a little closer, their voice gentle but insistent. âMaybe. But you never know.â She paused, searching his face. âI just think you donât have to be the person youâve always been, Max.â
He swallowed, caught off guard by the honesty in their words. It was strange, unsettling even, having someone look at him like he was worth more than the pieces he kept hidden. For a moment, he wanted to believe them.
âWell,â he said, forcing a small smirk, âmaybe I like the person I am.â
âMaybe.â Y/N shrugged, giving him a soft smile. âBut I think thereâs more to you than you let on.â
She held his gaze, and for once, Max found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he looked down, shaking his head slightly, but he couldnât keep the hint of a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Maxâs heartbeat was a little faster, his usual bravado slipping away under the weight of Y/Nâs gaze. He could feel them watching him, and for once, he didnât feel the need to hide.
âCareful,â he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. âYou keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking youâre interested.â
Y/Nâs lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. âMaybe I am. Maybe Iâm waiting for you to figure that out.â
Maxâs throat tightened, the words lingering between them like a challenge, daring him to take a step he wasnât sure he was ready for. He wanted to say something, anything that could brush off the tension, but the usual defenses werenât coming to his rescue. Instead, he just looked at them, his eyes searching for hers, caught between the urge to run and the impulse to stay.
âYou think youâve got me all figured out, huh?â he finally managed, his voice rougher than he intended.
Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. âNot all of you. Just enough to know thereâs more to you than you let people see.â She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm for just a second before she pulled back, the touch brief but enough to send a spark up his spine.
Max inhaled, barely holding himself together. The gentle, honest look in Y/Nâs eyes left him raw, and vulnerable, and he found himself wanting to let go, just a little. âSo, if thereâs more to me,â he said slowly, âwhy stick around? Donât you have better things to do than try to figure out a guy like me?â
Y/N shrugged, her voice soft. âMaybe I donât mind a mystery. Maybe I want to see what happens if you let your guard down.â
Maxâs pulse pounded in his ears, his gaze locked on theirs. For the first time in a long time, he felt like the ground was shifting beneath him, the walls heâd built starting to crumble. He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. âYou might not like what you find.â
Y/N just looked at him, their expression open, unafraid. âTry me.â
The words hung in the air, daring him, pulling him toward something he wasnât sure he was ready to face. But standing there in the quiet of the bookstore, with nothing but the soft music and their steady gaze, he realized he wanted to try.
Maxâs life had always been carefully compartmentalizedâbusiness was business, and the rare moments of personal life he allowed himself were kept far from the eyes of his family. But over time, his âdisappearancesâ to see Y/N hadnât gone unnoticed.
One afternoon, Jos sat in his leather chair at the head of their estateâs grand dining room. Marco stood nearby, observing him closely. He was loyal to Jos, fiercely so, and heâd known Max since he was a boy. But loyalty to the family meant loyalty to its survivalâand Max was threatening that with his wandering.
Marco cleared his throat, his voice steady. âIâm starting to think Maxâs time away isnât just business, Jos. Heâs distracted.â
Jos looked up slowly, his gaze piercing, as if calculating what Marco wasnât saying. âExplain.â
Marco shifted, choosing his words carefully. âItâs a girl. A nobody who works in some bookstore downtown. Heâs spending time with her. A lot of time.â
A silence fell over the room as Jos leaned back, fingers steepled. A faint smirk crossed his face, though his eyes remained cold. âA girl, you say?â He sounded almost amused, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his tone. âMax has always been soft-hearted. I warned him about that. But this attachment could be problematic.â
Marco nodded, his voice darkening. âHeâs slipping, Jos. Losing focus. And if he thinks he can just walk away for herâ He didnât finish the thought, but they both knew what happened to those who tried to leave.
Josâ gaze darkened, his fingers tapping against the armrest as he considered the implications. Heâd built his empire on ruthless loyalty, on men who would die for the family without question. But his son was becoming a liability a weakness that could be exploited by their enemies.
âWe need to remind Max of his responsibilities,â Jos said quietly, his voice laced with cold authority. âThisĂąâŹÂŠ bookstore girl has become a distraction. Make sure he understands that she could be more than just a distractionĂąâŹâsheâs a threat to him.â
Marco inclined his head, understanding the unspoken command. They couldnât afford loose ends. If Max couldnât be swayed, the girl would have to go. Marco left the room, a faint grimace on his face. Heâd always respected Max, but heâd be damned if he let anyone ruin everything theyâd built.
It started with a quiet warning. One night, as he slipped into the back office of his familyâs club, one of his fatherâs oldest lieutenants, Marco, was waiting for him. Marco was a man with eyes as cold as winter and a voice like gravel. He eyed Max for a long moment, his face unreadable.
âWord around is youâve been spending a lot of time away,â Marco said, his tone almost casual, though there was a hard edge beneath it.
Max didnât flinch, keeping his expression carefully blank. âAnd?â
âAnd,â Marco continued, stepping closer, âyouâve got responsibilities, Max. The family isnât just a part-time job. Your father knew that. I hope you havenât forgotten.â
Max clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to stay calm. âI havenât forgotten. I justĂąâŹÂŠ Iâm handling things in my way.â
Marcoâs gaze was heavy. âYour way better be the right way. People are noticing. Theyâre questioning your loyalty.â
Max stifled a growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Of course, people were noticing. Word got around fast in the family, and Max knew better than anyone that loyalty was their currency. He was walking a fine line, trying to juggle two worlds that didnât seem to mix.
âMy loyalty isnât in question,â he ground out, holding Marcoâs gaze. âI know where my responsibilities lie.âÂ
Marco looked unconvinced, but he didnât press any further. He simply nodded an ominous gesture that echoed through the office. As the door closed behind Marco, leaving Max alone, he let out a weary sigh. He was tired of the constant tests, the suspicion, the threats. It was never-ending, a constant game of proving himself worthy. His entire life had been shaped by this role, groomed and molded to be the perfect successor.
But nowĂąâŹÂŠnow he was questioning it all. For the first time, he was considering walking away from everything, from the life that his father had set out for him. All because of *her*.
Max slumped into the chair behind the desk, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. His father had never tolerated disobedience, especially from him. He'd always expected obedience above all else, and Max's deviation from that path would not be lightly tolerated.Â
Maxâs thoughts drifted to *her.* He'd spent every waking moment with her, drowning in the bliss of her company. But each moment had only heightened his desire for something more than what he already had. Something real. Authentic.
He leaned back, closing his eyes. He could hear her voice, her laugh, her soft sighs. He could almost feel her skin under his fingers, the way she fit so perfectly against him. But he couldnât have her, not in the way he truly wanted. Not unless he was willing to give everything else up.Â
The thought sent a pang of regret through him. His family, his legacy, his entire life it was all built on bloodshed and secrets. Was he ready to turn his back on it all?
He opened his eyes, looking at the room around him. The room his father had spent countless hours in, strategizing, planning, and ruling an empire built on violence and fear. Was this the life he wanted to live? Was this the life he wanted her to be a part of?
He knew the answer. The knowledge sat heavily in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. He was teetering on the edge of a decision that would change everything, a decision that would mean leaving one life behind for another.
He thought back to their time together, the stolen moments in the bookstore, the whispered secrets in shadowed corners. Every moment had deepened his feelings for her. Heâd been trying to fight them, to ignore them, but it was a useless battle.Â
He was in love with her. Deeply, completely, irrevocably in love. The realization made him sit upright in the chair, his heart pounding in his chest. Heâd been denying it, fighting it, but the truth was there. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. A real life. A life without secrets, without violence.Â
He knew it was a pipe dream, a foolish, impossible dream. But he found himself grasping for it anyway, holding onto the idea like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.
âThis is crazy,â he murmured to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. âThis is insane.â
He stood up, pacing the room in an attempt to clear his head. But his mind was a storm, thoughts churning together in a confusing mess.
There was no future for them. No world where his family, and his role in the organization, would allow him to be with her. And yet, he couldnât let her go, couldnât turn his feelings off like a switch. He could almost hear his father's voice in his mind, a harsh whisper in the back of his head. *You belong to this family. You're not here to make your own choices, Max.*
He closed his eyes again, trying to drown out the voice. But the words only echoed louder in his mind, a constant reminder of the life he was supposed to lead, the life he'd been groomed for.
And yet, amidst the chaos, one thought rang louder than the rest ĂąâŹâ a thought that both filled him with hope and made him feel like a traitor to everything he knew:
*Sheâs more important.*
Max leaned on the desk, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the maelstrom of emotions. It was a foolish thought, a dangerous thought. And yet, it was a thought that he couldnât shake off, a thought that had taken root in his heart and refused to let go. He couldn't have both worlds. That much was clear. He couldn't be a part of the family *and* be free to be with her. He couldn't be the man his father wanted *and* the man she needed. He had to make a choice.Â
And the choice, no matter how foolish, was already made. For her, he would be willing to give up everything. For her, he was willing to risk it all.
The next time he saw Y/N, she noticed the tension right away. They were sitting at a small cafe she loved, nestled away from the bustle of the city. She studied him quietly over her coffee, brow furrowed in concern.
âYou seem different today,â she said gently, her voice breaking through his troubled thoughts.
Max forced a smile, though it didnât quite reach his eyes. âJust a rough day, thatâs all.â
She watched him carefully, not pushing for more but not letting it go either. After a moment, she reached across the table, placing her hand over his. The warmth of her touch steadied him, grounding him in a way he hadnât felt in years.
âYou know,â she said softly, âyou can tell me anything. I donât know much about you, but I know youâre not just the quiet guy who hangs around bookstores. You donât have to hide.â
Her words pierced him, and he felt an ache deep in his chest. He wanted to tell her everythingĂąâŹâthe blood, the secrets, the things heâd done to keep his familyâs empire running. But how could he? How could he shatter the perfect image she saw in him and risk losing the only good thing heâd ever had?
âI know,â he said quietly, his fingers tightening around hers. âMaybe one day, Iâll tell you. But not yet.â
He watched the confusion flicker in her eyes. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together the pieces he was giving her.Â
She was perceptive and smart, and it killed him that he couldnât be honest with her.Â
The silence between them stretched, heavy with the things he wasnât saying. He wanted to pour it all out, to share the weight of his secrets and the burden of his role, but for now, the words stuck in his throat. He shifted, his gaze dropping to their hands, intertwined on the table. The contrast between them was stark hers, soft and unmarred, his, calloused and marked with tiny scars, the souvenirs of fights and battles she knew nothing about.
He turned his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on his skin, the ridges that spoke of life so separate from hers that the mere thought of bridging the gap felt like a fantasy. She must have seen his gaze, the way his eyes followed the tracks of his past. She traced her fingers over his knuckles, light and tender, like a whisper over his scars.
âDoes it hurt?â she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
*Yes*, he wanted to shout, *It hurts like hell.*
Instead, he just shook his head, offering her another half-smile. âJust old wounds,â he replied, his voice gruff. The look in her eyes told him she didnât believe him, but she didnât press the issue. She just continued tracing her fingers over his skin, her touch a soft, soothing comfort he didnât deserve.
He fought the urge to lean into her touch, to let the warmth wash over him and make him forget everything else. But reality loomed over them, a dark cloud on a sunny afternoon. She moved her hand, picking up her coffee again and taking a sip. He missed the contact immediately, the absence of her touch like a cold knife in his side.
âMax,â she said finally, her eyes searching his face, âpromise me one thing.â
He knew what was coming. The question he dreaded and longed for all at once. He met her gaze, bracing himself. âWhat?â he managed to say.
She took a deep breath, the next word leaving her lips in a rush. âDonât keep shutting me out. I donât know whatâs going on with you, or why you wonât tell me anything. But weâreâŠweâre friends, arenât we?â
The word hit him like a punch to the gut. âFriendsâ. It was such a small word, but it felt so huge, loaded with all the things he wanted and everything he couldnât have. He nodded, his heart clenching uncomfortably. âWeâre friends, yes,â he said softly, his voice hoarse.
She smiled at his answer, that small, hopeful smile that sent his heart into somersaults. He swallowed hard, pushing down the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to spill out.
She didn't need to know what he was capable of. She didnât need to know the darkness that lurked in the shadows of his world.
 They finished their coffee in relative silence. He felt the weight of her unasked questions hanging in the air. Questions he couldnât, or wouldnât, answer. He watched her, trying to memorize every feature, every gesture, every expression. As if he was trying to imprint her into his memory, a moment of light in the dark of his existence.
When they stood to leave, he reached out, almost without thinking, to help adjust her scarf. His fingers grazed the skin on her collar, a small, almost electric contact. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes, and he quickly withdrew his touch.
âDon't want you to catch a cold,â he mumbled, his voice gruff, avoiding her gaze. She didnât comment on his quick retreat, just smiled, a soft, knowing smile. âThanks, Max,â she said, her voice almost a whisper.
They made their way out of the cafe, the crisp fall air biting as they stepped onto the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs with something other than the scent of her perfume. As they stood there, on the cusp of parting ways, he had to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms, to hold her tightly, and never let go. But he couldnât, not here, not now. So he just stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to conceal his clenched fists.
âSee you later?â she asked, her voice soft, hopeful.
âYeah,â he managed to say, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be. âLater.â
He watched her walk away, her figure getting smaller in the distance. As she turned a corner and disappeared, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The walk back to his car was a blur. His mind was in turmoil, a mess of thoughts and feelings he couldn't sort through. All of them, somehow, involved her.
When he finally reached his car, he leaned against the door, taking a moment to collect himself. *This is insane*, he thought, *I can't keep doing this*.
But even as the thought formed in his mind, he knew it was useless. He was in too deep. The pull of her was too strong. There was no turning back, not while her smile and laugh continued to haunt his every waking moment.
He climbed into the car, starting the engine with a sigh. As he pulled out of the parking spot, he knew he was driving straight towards a decision he would likely come to regret.
The next day, Max returned to his familyâs estate, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. He walked through the ornate halls heâd grown up in, feeling a strange sense of detachment as he entered his fatherâs office. Jos sat behind his desk, Marco at his side, both of them staring watching him with expressions of silent judgment.
âMax,â Jos greeted, his voice deceptively calm. âI hear youâve beenĂąâŹÂŠ busy.â
Max didnât flinch, his gaze hard and unyielding. âI know youâve been watching me.â
Joe's smirk didnât reach his eyes. âOf course we have. Youâre a valuable part of this family, Max. Itâs only natural we keep an eye on where your loyalties lie.â
âMy loyalties,â Max said, his voice steady, âare to my own life. I want out.â
Marcoâs face twisted in contempt, and Josâ expression grew darker. âYou think you can just walk away?â Jos said quietly. âThat girl of yoursĂąâŹâsheâs a liability, Max. You canât just abandon everything weâve built for a stranger.â
âSheâs not a stranger,â Max said sharply, his voice filled with a fierce determination. âSheâs the only real thing in my life. And Iâm done living in a cage, following orders, hurting people for you.â
A tense silence settled over the room, thick with the threat of violence. Josâs face twisted in anger, his hands clenching the edge of the desk. âYouâre my son,â he hissed. âYou carry my legacy. If you betray this family, youâll be the one living in fear.â
Max took a steady breath, his heart pounding. âI donât care. Iâll protect her from anything you try, and if you hurt her, Iâll make sure itâs the last mistake you ever make.â
Josâ gaze darkened, but there was a flicker of hesitation. For the first time, Max saw a glint of fear in his fatherâs eyesĂąâŹâa realization that he could lose the one person who understood their empire best.
The room was a tableau of tension, a stand-off between father and son, both at an impasse.
Maxâs heart was hammering against his ribcage, but he stood his ground, facing down his fatherâs silent glare.
Marco shifted, his muscles tense, ready to attack at a momentâs notice. But a subtle shake of Josâ head kept him in place, holding him back.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the quiet punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Jos stood slowly, his eyes never leaving Max. He moved with the quiet precision of a hunter preparing to strike. He walked around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the room.
Max remained motionless, meeting his fatherâs glare with a defiant one of his own. As Jos approached, Max could hardly draw a steady breath. He could feel the danger in the air, like the electric charge before a storm. When his father stopped in front of him, they were mere inches apart, the air heavy with tension.
âYouâd betray us?â Jos whispered, the threat barely contained beneath the surface. A flicker of anger passed over Maxâs face. He knew what his father was asking. *Would you betray us for a woman you barely know?*
âYes.â The word came out firm, without a trace of doubt. Max didnât hesitate, he didnât waver. He stood his ground, staring into his fatherâs eyes without flinching.
There was a note of disbelief in his fatherâs voice, as if he couldnât fathom the idea of Max choosing a person over the empire heâd helped build.
Max didnât back down. He met his fatherâs gaze squarely, his answer clear in his eyes. âYes. For her.â
But Max didnât wait for his fatherâs response. He turned on his heel, his decision made. He would leave, taking Y/N and disappearing from this life. But he knew they wouldnât stop coming. Heâd have to stay ahead, always watching over his shoulder, always ready to fight.
As he stepped outside, the weight of his choice pressed heavily on him. He knew he was stepping into a storm, but heâd finally found something worth fighting for and nothing, not even his fatherâs wrath, would stop him now.
Max took a deep breath, the cold air biting into his lungs. Heâd made his choice. Heâd taken the first step towards something heâd never dared to dream of.Â
It was a dangerous, foolish, insane choice.
*And he loved every second of it.*
His thoughts turned to y/n. He could picture her, her soft smile, her laughter, her eyes that seemed to see right through him. The thought of her fueled him and gave him purpose. He had to protect her, above all else.
But as he walked towards his car, the shadows of his past seemed to cast long, ominous shadows over his path. He knew his father and Marco wouldnât let him go so easily. He had to be ready. He had to prepare. *He had to make sure she was safe.*
He climbed into his car, determination burning hot in his veins. He started the engine, the roar of it a steady, reassuring presence.
As he pulled out of the estate, he didnât look back. There was no going back now. He drove through the city streets, his mind working in overdrive. He had to devise a plan, a way to disappear without a trace. But more importantly, he had to keep y/n safe. He couldnât let her get caught in the crossfire.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. There was no room for mistakes and no margin for error. The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow. But there was no beauty in it, no joy in the sight. For Max, every shadow seemed a potential threat, every corner a place to hide.
He knew his father and Marco could be watching. They might be tracking his every move, or they could be waiting for him at his apartment, ready to ambush him. He made a few detours, taking roundabout routes to throw off anyone who might be following him. His adrenaline was pumping, making him hyper-aware of every passing vehicle, every pedestrian on the sidewalk.
When he finally pulled up to y/nâs apartment building, he sat in the car for a few moments, surveying the area.
The street was mostly quiet, with nothing but a few passersby and a couple of cars parked on the street. He didnât see anything suspicious, but that didnât relax him. He knew his father had eyes everywhere, and they could be watching from anywhere, anyone. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to play it cool, not alarm Y/N. She couldnât know the danger she was in, not yet. He would tell her, but he had to make sure she was safe first.
With one last look around, he got out of the car and headed towards her apartment. With each step, his heart thumped louder against his ribcage, like a drum announcing his arrival. He reached her door, hesitating for a moment. Then he knocked, three sharp raps followed by a pause.
The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as he waited for the door to open. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and the door swung open.
There she stood, beautiful and blissfully unaware of the danger looming just beyond her threshold.
Her face lit up when she saw him, a bright, beautiful smile spreading across her features. âMax, hi,â she greeted him, her voice filled with warmth.
For a moment, he was just lost in her, her presence bringing a soothing calm to his tumultuous mind. But it lasted only a moment. He had to remember why he was there, and what he needed to do.
âCan I come in?â he asked, his voice gruff. He could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. He followed her into the apartment, his eyes scanning the room. It was a cozy place, filled with little touches of her; a vase of fresh flowers, a few books piled on the coffee table, and a picture of her with her family on the mantelpiece.
But he didnât have much time to take it all in. He turned, facing her, his expression serious. She closed the door, leaning against it as she watched him. âEverything okay?â she asked, that note of concern in her voice.Â
He let out a shaky breath. âWe need to talk.â
She studied his face, probably noticing the tension and the anxiety written across it. But she simply smiled, gesturing towards the living room. âOkay, let's go sit down then.â
He nodded, following her into the living room and sitting down on the couch. She sat next to him, turning to face him. There was more concern on her face now, but she remained silent, waiting for him to speak.
He stared at his hands, now clenched tightly in his lap. The words were stuck in his throat, refusing to come out. *How do you tell someone their life is in danger because of you?*
He took another shaky breath, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Her eyes were filled with worry now, but there was no suspicion yet. She didnât know what he was about to say.
Finally, he found his voice. âYou trust me, right?â
She was taken aback by the question, but she nodded immediately. âOf course I do,â she said, her voice firm, certain.
He was relieved and terrified by her response. He didnât deserve her trust, not with the life he lived. But he also knew he could use it, weaponize it to protect her.
He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate against his palm. It took everything he had to stop himself from squeezing too hard, to avoid revealing the fear and desperation raging inside him.
He took another deep breath, gathering his words. âThereâs something I need to tell you. And you have to promise youâll hear me out, no matter how it sounds.â
There was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but she squeezed his hand, reassuring him. âOkay,â she said, her voice calm, steady. âIâm listening.â
âI need you to pack a bag with only the essentials,â Max says. Her eyes widened, confusion clouding her features. âWhat?â she asked, her voice shaking slightly. âWhatâs going on, Max?â
He squeezed her hand again, holding her gaze. âIâll explain. Just please, pack a bag. Now.â
She was uneasy, but she nodded, reluctantly slipping her hand from his grip. âOkay,â she said quietly. âIâll go pack.â
He watched as she stood and walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow, almost reluctant. Once she disappeared from view, he let out a low curse. This was harder than heâd imagined.
The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, the silence in the room like a physical presence. He couldnât make himself sit still, he had to keep moving, keep his mind busy. He walked around the living room, his eyes constantly flicking towards the bedroom door. *What was taking her so long?*
Just when he was about to go check on her, she reappeared, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her face was carefully blank, a stark contrast to the emotions he could see swirling in her eyes.
âGot everything?â he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady. She nodded wordlessly, her fingers clenching the strap of the bag. He could see the hundred questions in her eyes, but she didnât voice them. *Not yet.*
âCome on,â he said, his voice soft but firm. âWe need to go.â
She nodded again, following him as he turned towards the front door. She paused at the threshold, her eyes taking in the room one last time. It was clear the realization was setting in, the reality of what was happening. But she didnât ask any questions.
As they walked out of the apartment, he couldnât help but feel a pang of guilt. This was all his fault. If he hadnât involved her in his life, sheâd still be safe and comfortable in her home. But he couldnât change the past, he could only try to protect her in the present.
He led her to his car, opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, buckling her seatbelt silently. As he closed the door, he caught a glimpse of her face through the window.Â
Her expression was solemn, her eyes wide and troubled. But there was no fear, no anger. Just a quiet, steady trust that both reassured and scared him.
He walked around the car, getting in the driver's seat. As he turned on the engine, he glanced over at her. âYouâre quiet.âÂ
She looked over at him then, her eyes meeting his. âIâm scared,â she admitted in a soft voice.Â
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. Heâd known she was scared, but hearing her say it out loud somehow made it more real, more urgent.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. âI know.âÂ
He reached over, taking her hand in his again. âBut Iâm here. Iâm going to protect you.â
For a moment, she simply held his gaze. Then she nodded, a determined look settling over her features. âI trust you.â
Those two simple words, spoken with such conviction, sent a wave of emotions through him. *She trusted him. She believed in him.*
He squeezed her hand, hoping she could feel all the things he wanted to say but couldnât. Then he looked away, focusing on the road ahead.
The drive was mostly silent. He kept his eyes on the road, his mind working overtime. He was acutely aware of her presence next to him, her hand still in his. Every so often he would gently brush his thumb over her knuckles, a silent gesture of reassurance.
But as the minutes ticked by, she remained quiet. He didnât blame her. There were so many questions, so much to take in. In her place, heâd probably be questioning his sanity right about now.
He wanted to explain himself, to tell her everything. But the words always stayed stuck in his throat, his fear of losing her overpowering everything else. They drove late into the night, the city lights gradually fading as they left the metropolitan area. He was heading for one of the small towns near the coast, a place where they could lie low. He would figure out the rest later. *He had to.*
As the city skyline gave way to open fields and the occasional farmhouse, she finally spoke. âWhere are we going?âÂ
It was the first thing sheâd said in hours. Her voice was just a whisper against the rumble of the engine, but it was enough to make his heart pound.
He looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the road. âSomewhere safe,â he said simply.
It was a vague answer, but it was all he could give her at the moment. He couldnât tell her they were running, that they were going to be living off the grid for the foreseeable future. That would only terrify her more.Â
She didnât press him, which he was grateful for. Instead, she turned away, looking out the window at the passing landscape. The silence settled back over them, thick and impenetrable.Â
He could sense the tension radiating off her, the questions she was undoubtedly dying to ask. But she kept her mouth closed, keeping her trust in him despite the circumstances. They drove for hours, the night deepening around them. He checked the rearview mirror frequently, his eyes scanning the road behind for any sign of following cars. But the road remained empty, the taillights of other vehicles vanishing into the distance.
His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, the only anchor being the feel of her hand in his. He wanted to assure her, to tell her everything would be alright. But he knew that was a lie, at least for now. The worst was yet to come.
After another hour, they finally reached the edge of the small town. The streetlights were dim, the houses few and far between. This was good, it would be easier to lay low here.
He slowed the car as they entered town, driving past a closed gas station, a darkened diner, and a small motel. The motel signs were all turned off, the only light coming from a flickering neon sign advertising vacancies. He pulled into the parking lot, looking around the area with a critical eye. It was dead, with no cars or people in sight. *Perfect*.
He parked the car in a spot near the end of the lot, furthest away from the motel office. He killed the engine, the sudden silence in the car deafening. He looked over at her, trying to gauge her expression.
She was staring at him, the faint light from a streetlamp outside casting shadows on her face. He could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, mixed with determination and resignation. He knew then that she would stay by his side no matter what.
He reached over, releasing her hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. For a moment, he forgot everything, lost in her. But reality came crashing back in, bringing with it the weight of the situation. He drew his hand back, clearing his throat. âWe should probably check in.âÂ
She said nothing, simply nodding in agreement. He climbed out of the car, walking around to open her door for her. She climbed out, her legs a bit wobbly from the long drive. He offered her his arm for support, and she took it, her hand gripping his arm tight. They walked towards the motel office, their footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet night.
The office was small and dimly lit, the lobby almost deserted. The desk clerk looked up lazily as they entered, his eyes immediately zeroing in on their linked arms. Max could feel his gaze linger on their coupled hands, but he ignored it, concentrating on checking them in. The clerk, noticing the look in Max's eyes, wisely kept any comments to himself. He simply handed Max the key to one of the rooms, a silent agreement to not ask any questions. Max nodded in thanks, pulling y/n with him out of the office.
The night air was cold and crisp, a sharp contrast to the heat of the office. He led her towards the room, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel parking lot. He glanced at her occasionally, noticing the slight frown on her face and the way she shivered in the cold.
"We're almost there," he assured her, his voice soft. He hurried his steps, eager to get her out of the cold and into the warmth of the motel room. They reached the door, and he quickly unlocked it, pushing the door open to reveal the small room inside. The room was simple but clean. There was a queen-sized bed in the center, with a small desk and chair in the corner. The bathroom was a separate room, visible through an open door. The light from the streetlamp outside filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the room.
He ushered her inside, flicking on the light switch as he closed the door behind them. She looked around, taking in the room with wide eyes. Her gaze lingered on the bed for a moment before she looked at him, her brow furrowed in silent questioning. He could guess what she was thinking. There was only one bed, and they were not sharing it. He swallowed, forcing himself to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought. "I'll take the chair," he said, his voice gruff.
She looked at him, her lips parting as if to protest. But she seemed to think better of it, simply nodding instead. "Okay," she whispered. He looked away, the soft sound of her voice sending a jolt through him. It was going to be a long night. He walked over to the desk, pulled the chair out, and sat down. He leaned back against the hard plastic, closing his eyes and letting out a tired sigh.
He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. His mind was too busy, too overloaded with everything that had happened. And the knowledge that she was just a few feet away, so close and yet untouchable, was not helping matters. He opened his eyes, looking over at her. She was sitting on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, her fingers toying with a loose thread on the bedspread. She looked small and vulnerable, the fear and uncertainty on her face making his heartache. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, to promise her that everything would be fine. But he knew he couldn't, not yet. He had to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of control. For her sake as much as his own.
The silence in the room was deafening. He could hear every small sound, every breath, and every rustle of fabric. It was maddening, like a slow torture. But he forced himself to stay still, to focus on the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. She looked up then, her eyes catching him in the semi-darkness of the room. He held her gaze, his heart pounding in his ears. At that moment, all his carefully constructed walls crumbled, his desire and need for her almost overwhelming him.
He wanted to reach out to her, to drag her closer until there was no space between them. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to taste her lips, to hold her until they were both too tired to think. But he didn't. He stayed where he was, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair, his entire body taut with restraint. *This was for her good, he kept reminding himself.*Â
She was watching him, he could feel it. Her eyes were like a physical touch, sending shivers down his spine, and stirring up feelings he had no right to have. He wanted to break the silence, to say something, but he didn't trust his voice not to betray him. The seconds ticked by slowly, the only sound in the room was the steady tick of the wall clock. He could see her looking at him, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, lingering on his lips. It was almost unbearable, the heat in her gaze sending a bolt of desire straight through his gut. He wanted to look away, to break the spell her gaze seemed to have over him. But he couldnât, his eyes locked on hers like a moth drawn to a flame. He could see the way her chest rose and fell, her breathing growing shallow and fast, matching his rapid heartbeat.
The tension in the room grew thicker, like a living thing between them. The air was electric, crackling with unspoken emotions. He could see her hands clenching and unclenching on the bedspread, and he knew she was struggling as he was, fighting against the pull of their mutual attraction. He clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his emotions, to keep his desire and need for her under control. But it was nearly impossible, every breath, every small movement she made, fanning the fire inside of him.
The air was thick with desire, and the silence between them charged with an almost tangible energy. He knew they were both teetering on the edge, the line between restraint and surrender growing thinner with each passing second.
He was the first to break, his resolve finally crumbling under the weight of his yearning. He stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and something else. Hope, maybe, or anticipation. Max needed to escape the room; he felt suffocated as if life had punched him in the throat. Nothing was going the way he wanted. He walked to the door without looking back, desperate for a moment to breathe.
He had never felt this way before panic washed over him, and he didnât know what to do. He stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin. He leaned against the wall, taking in the cold night, trying to calm his frantic mind. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one who knew what he was doing. But right now, he was lost, drowning in his own emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He was used to being in charge, to calling the shots. But with her, everything was different. He felt raw and exposed, vulnerable in a way he'd sworn he'd never be again.
He drew in a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs. He needed to pull himself together, to get a grip on the situation. But the image of her face, the need and desire he saw in her eyes, were branded in his mind, making it impossible to think. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise in his head. But the silence of the night only amplified the sound of his heartbeat, the rush of his blood. He had never felt so alive, so on edge. And it was terrifying.
The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, casting the world in a soft, golden light. Max was driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The silence in the car was heavy, the weight of the night's events hanging heavily in the air. y/n was sitting in the passenger seat, her body turned slightly towards him, her eyes fixed on his profile. He could feel her gaze on him, like a physical touch, stirring up feelings he had no right to feel.
"How did you sleep?" he asked, his voice gravelly. He didn't look at her, his eyes firmly on the road ahead. He didn't trust himself to look at her now, to see the expression on her face. "I didn't." her reply was quiet, almost a whisper. It sent a pang of guilt through him, knowing that he was the reason she couldn't sleep. He could picture her, lying awake in the darkness, trying to find a comfortable position in the cramped bed.Â
"Me either," he admitted, his voice hoarse. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind too busy, his body too tense. He had spent the night pacing the tiny motel room, trying to walk off his restless energy, but it had been futile. They fell into silence again, the only sound the hum of the engine and the tires on the road. Max clenched his jaw, the tension in the car almost unbearable. He was desperate to say something, to break the silence, but he didn't know what to say.
He glanced at her from the corner of his, taking in her profile, the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face. She looked tired, her eyes a little puffy from lack of sleep. But she was still beautiful, more so than ever in the soft morning light. He looked away, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He needed to keep his distance, to remember why he had left the room last night in the first place. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart ached when he looked at her, the way his body responded to her presence.
But he was also afraid. Not of her, but of himself, of the feelings he had for her. He had always been in control, never allowing himself to be vulnerable or emotional. It was what had made him successful, what had made him the man he was today. And he was terrified of losing that control, of becoming someone else because of her. But then he caught another glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, her head resting against the seat, her eyes closed. She was dozing off, her eyelashes casting little shadows on her cheeks. He felt a pang in his chest, a strange mix of longing and protectiveness.Â
The drive continued, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and her soft, even breaths. Max's thoughts continued to churn, his emotions swirling in a tangle of confusion and desire. He had never felt this way before, so out of control, so at the mercy of his feelings. He glanced at her again, his eyes lingering on her face, the peace and innocence in her sleep. He wanted to commit her to memory, to imprint every detail into his mind. He knew it was a dangerous thing to do, but he couldn't help it.
Y/N stood by the window now, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Max was still by the fireplace, sharpening the knives he kept in his bag. The quiet weight of their shared history hung in the air.
âI never thanked you properly for that night,â Y/N said, breaking the silence. She hadnât spoken about it before, but the memory was still so vivid in her mind. That night had changed everything.
Max didnât look up, his movements steady and mechanical as he worked. âYou donât need to,â he replied, his voice neutral, as always. âI did what I had to.â
She looked at him for a moment, searching for some hint of what he was feeling. For so long, Max had been a closed book. She had tried to get to know himĂąâŹâknow himĂąâŹâbut every time she felt like she was getting closer, he shut himself off again.
But now, in this quiet cabin, with the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face, Y/N noticed a difference. He wasnât the same man who had stepped into that alley that night. She wasnât sure how or when it happened, but she felt a shift between them. Something unspoken, growing.
Max paused in his work, the knife hanging in the air for a moment, his eyes fixed on the sharp edge of the blade. He had felt the shift too, the tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. But he was afraid, that if he looked at her now, if he let himself acknowledge what he was feeling, he would not be able to keep his distance.
"I didn't expect a thank you," he said gruffly, his fingers resuming their work, the sound of the sharpening stone against metal filling the room.
Y/N turned back to the window, the last vestiges of sunlight painting the horizon in pinks and oranges. The world outside was quiet, and peaceful, in stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She knew better than to push him, to try to force him to open up. But she couldn't help but want to know him, to understand the enigma that was Max Verstappen.
"Why did you do it, Max?" she asked, her voice soft. "Why did you help me that night?"Â
Max's hand paused again, the knife still in his hand, the stone poised over the blade. He knew she would ask him this one day. But he wasn't ready to answer, to confront the reality of his feelings.
"It was the right thing to do," he said simply, resuming his movement, the sound of the stone against metal filling the silence. Y/N turned, leaning against the windowsill, her eyes on him. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set, the way he was trying to pretend he was focused on his task. But she knew better.
"Is that the only reason?" she pressed, her voice soft, yet insistent. Max didnât answer, the silence stretching between them. He could feel her gaze, the questions she was asking without words. He wanted to answer her, to tell her the truth. But he was a coward, too afraid to confess his feelings.
"What other reason could there be?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, his eyes fixed on the knife blade. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his response. There were so many other reasons, so many things she longed to hear from him, but she knew he wouldnât say them. Not now, maybe not ever.
"There could be dozens of reasons," she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "Curiosity, boredom, a sense of obligation..."
Max's hand paused, the knife balanced idly against the whetstone. He could hear the disappointment in her voice, the subtle hint of hurt. It made his gut clench, but he pushed the feeling down, burying it under his practiced indifference.
"Youâre overthinking it," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.
Y/N felt a sting of anger at his words, his aloofness setting her nerves on edge. She knew he was trying to push her away, to shut down any chance of an honest conversation, but she was tired of his walls.
"Iâm not overthinking it," she retorted, her voice rising slightly. âYouâre under-feeling it, as usual.â
Max looked up at her then, his eyes sharp, his expression guarded. He knew she was right, he knew he was bottling up his feelings, but he didnât know any other way. Showing vulnerability was a luxury he couldnât afford.
"And youâre overreacting," he shot back, the words meant to hurt as much as they were meant to deflect. Y/N felt her anger flare, her frustration boiling over. She had tried to understand him, to be patient, to look beyond his cold exterior, but he was making it nearly impossible.
"Iâm not overreacting," she nearly snapped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Iâm trying to understand, to get you to talk to me. But youâre just shutting me out... again."Â
Max's hands gripped the knife and stone more tightly, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. Her words stung more than he'd like to admit, hitting too close to home.
"Thereâs nothing to talk about,â he bit out, his voice cold. "Youâre looking for something that isnât there, y/n. Youâre imagining things."
Y/N felt a pang of hurt at his words, his cold dismissal like a slap to the face. She had felt that there was more to them, a connection that was hard to ignore. But he was denying it, shutting down any possibility of more.
"Then maybe Iâm delusional," she muttered, her voice filled with an aching sadness. "Because I thought... Nevermind."
Max could hear the sadness in her voice, the resignation that was setting in, and he hated it. Hated himself a little for causing it. But he didnât know how to change, how to be the man she wanted him to be.Â
"You think too much," he tried to joke, but the attempt fell flat, his voice lacking the usual humor.
Y/Nâs heart was breaking a little more with each word he said. She had hoped for so much more, for a real conversation, for some sign that he felt something for her, something more than just obligation or curiosity.Â
"And you donât think enough," she retorted, her voice sharp. "Youâre hiding, Max. Behind those walls, youâve built up around yourself. And theyâre getting taller each day."
Maxâs grip on the knife tightened even more, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He hated that she knew him so well, that she could see through his walls like they were tissue paper.
"They're there for a reason," he ground out. "To keep meĂąâŹâand people like youĂąâŹâsafe."Â
Y/N felt a mixture of anger and pain surge through her at his words. He was shutting her out, pushing her away, because he was scared.Â
"Safe?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You donât push people away for their good, Max. You do it because youâre afraid. Afraid of feeling, of being vulnerable." Maxâs eyes flashed at her words, his temper flaring. Her accusations were like knives, stabbing at his weak spots, exposing his vulnerabilities.Â
"Iâm not afraid," he snapped, his voice hard and cold. "Iâm just realistic. Feelings get you killed in my world." Y/N felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, the depth of his loneliness and fear making her heartache. But her anger was flaring too, her frustration with his stubbornness fueling her words.
"Maybe in your world," she retorted her voice firm and even. "But in my world, feelings are what make life worth living. And youâre missing out, Max. Youâre missing out big time."
Max almost threw the knife down, the stone clattering to the floor. The anger inside him was building, threatening to boil over. He couldnât understand how to make her so emotional, how she could just wear her feelings on her sleeve.Â
"Feelings get you killed, y/n," he repeated, his voice like ice. "They make you weak, a target. Iâd have been dead years ago if I let myself feel."
Y/N clenched her fists, the urge to punch him rising. But she somehow restrained herself, holding herself back from giving in to her anger.
"Weak?" she repeated, her voice shaking with rage. "Feelings make you human, Max. They make you who you are, who you ought to be. And youâre missing out on all of it because youâre too damned stubborn to try."
Maxâs chest was heaving now, his breaths coming in short, hard gasps. Her words were like bullets, each one finding its mark. But he refused to show weakness, to acknowledge the truth in her words.Â
"I donât need your understanding or your compassion," he growled, his hands shaking with anger and suppressed emotion. "Iâm fine the way I am."
Y/N took a step towards him, her anger burning bright. "No," she shot back, her voice steady despite the fire in her eyes. "Youâre not fine, Max. Youâre alone. You always will be if you donât pull your head out of your ass."
Maxâs eyes widened in shock at her outburst. No one had ever spoken to him like this, so bluntly, so boldly. It was both frustrating and enthralling.Â
"Watch how you speak to me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Youâre way out of your depth here, y/n."
Y/N couldnât help but laugh, the sound harsh and dry. "Iâll speak to you any way I damn please, Max," she bit back, closing the remaining distance so she was standing right in front of him. "And you donât scare me. Not one bit."
Maxâs breath caught in his chest as she got closer, her insolent tone and fearless stare sparking an unfamiliar feeling in him. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to make her understand the danger she was in. But he also wanted to pull her closer, to feel her warmth against him, to lose himself in her fire.Â
"You should be scared," he managed to say, his voice hoarse, his body tensing.
Y/N met his gaze without flinching, her eyes holding him with a fire that heâd never seen before. "Iâm not," she replied, her voice steady. "Because I know you wonât hurt me. You may pretend to be this cold, hard killer, but deep down, youâre nothing of the sort."
Y/N couldnât believe what she was hearing. Max finally confesses that he loved her, that her being here, in this cabin, with him, was by his design. It was overwhelming, the sheer weight of emotion in his words, the rawness in his voice.Â
âMaxâ She took a step closer, her hands reaching out as if to touch him, to anchor herself against the storm of emotions threatening to knock her off her feet. He flinched as he felt her hands on his chest, her touch like electricity on his skin. He had never been one to crave physical contact, but now, with her, it was like a drug. He wanted more, so much more.Â
"Donât," he said, his hands coming up to grasp her wrists, to keep her from getting any closer. "Donât touch me. Donât look at me like that." Y/N ignored his request, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart underneath his shirt. "Why?" she asked, her voice soft, her eyes fixed on his. "Why canât I touch you? Why canât I look at you?"
Max felt himself shudder at her touch, every nerve ending in his body alive with a strange fire. He should have pushed her away, should have put an end to this madness. But he couldnât bring himself to do it.Â
"Because Because " he stammered, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings. "Because if you keep looking at me like that if you keep touching meĂąâŹÂŠ I wonât be able to control myself."
Y/N noticed the desperation in his voice and the hunger in his eyes. She knew he was fighting a losing battle, fighting his feelings. But she couldn't stop herself from pushing him further, from wanting more.Â
"And what if I donât want you to control yourself?" she teased, her fingers dancing over his skin, tracing the muscles of his shoulders. Max was coming undone beneath her touch, her words sending a shiver down his spine. He couldnât resist any longer, the dam he had built up around his emotions was cracking.
"You donât know what you're saying," he managed to say, his voice hoarse. But his hands on her wrists were gentler now, no longer trying to push her away. Y/N moved even closer, her body now pressed against his, her hands sliding up to his neck. She could feel the heat from his body, her heart racing.Â
"I know exactly what Iâm saying," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "I want you, Max. All of you. And I wonât let you push me away."
Max was drowning in her touch, in her words, in her scent. He could feel her body against his, her breath on his skin. Every instinct he had was telling him to push her away, to save her from himself. But the desire, the need to have her was overpowering.
"You donât know what youâre getting into," he husked, his hands finally leaving her wrists, moving to her hips instead, pulling her even closer. "Once I have you, Iâm never letting go."Â
âGod Max you're so dumb if you havenât realized that youâve had me since that night you saved my lifeâ y/n admitted. Max's eyes widened at her words, the truth of them hitting him hard. He had had her all along, and he hadn't even realized it. He was so used to being alone, so used to guarding his heart, that he had missed the one person who had cared about him, truly and deeply.Â
"Youâre mine," he said, his voice almost a growl, his hands grabbing her hips more tightly. "No one else gets to have you, to touch you, to love you. Ever."
Y/N felt a thrill go through her at his possessive tone, the primal need in his voice. It should have scared her, to be claimed by a man like Max, a dangerous and complicated man. But it didnât. It only made her want him more.Â
"Then take me, Max," she whispered, her hands running down his chest, to the hem of his shirt. "Make me yours, completely."
Maxâs control snapped. The last shred of restraint was gone, replaced with a fierce hunger, a primal need. He wanted her, needed her more than ever, and he was going to have her.
He pulled her against him, his mouth crashing onto hers in a bruising kiss. He devoured her, ravishing her mouth, claiming her body, making her his.
Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion.Â
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion.Â
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Max tasted her as if she were his last meal as if he couldnât get enough of her. He pushed her back against the nearest wall, his body pressing against hers, his hands exploring her curves, claiming every inch of her.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin, marking her as his own. Y/N arched against him, her body responding to his touch, to his claim. Every nerve ending was on fire, her body aflame with desire. She had never felt like this before, so wanted, so desired.Â
Her hands moved to his hair, her fingers tangling in his locks as she held him closer, begging for more. Max felt her surrender to him, her body responding to his every touch. He loved the way she felt in his arms, loved the way her body moved against his. His mind was hazy with desire, his skin on fire with need.Â
His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers slipping under the fabric, pulling it up and off over her head. Y/N gasped as he pulled off her shirt, her skin bare now, sensitive to his touch. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his hands roaming over her exposed flesh, his touch sending shivers down her spine.Â
Her own hands were exploring his chest, her fingers tracing the hard planes of muscle, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. Max groaned at her touch, her nails on his skin making his head spin. He couldnât get enough of her, he needed more.Â
He pushed her back against the wall once more, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her collarbone. His hands moved to the waistband of her pants, unbuttoning them, and pulling them down her legs. Y/N felt herself being stripped of every bit of clothing, Maxâs hands and mouth leaving a trail of heat on her skin. She was bare before him, vulnerable and yet powerful in her desire for him.Â
She pulled at his shirt now, needing to feel his skin against hers, needing to be as close to him as possible. Max pulled back just long enough to rip off his shirt, his chest now bare, his breathing heavy. He pulled her back against him, the skin-to-skin contact sending a jolt through his body.Â
He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed and laying her down gently. He looked at her there, lying beneath him, beautiful and perfect and completely his. Y/N looked up at him, the heat in his eyes stealing her breath. She had never felt so desired, so wanted, so needed. She reached for him, pulling him down on top of her, her hands roaming over his back, her legs wrapping around his waist.Â
Max leaned down, his body covering hers, his mouth finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, his touch desperate, needy. He was on the verge of losing control, consumed by the fire that burned for her alone.Â
He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, her chest, his teeth nipping at her skin, marking her, claiming her. Y/N arched against him, her body moving in a rhythm all its own, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She was lost in a sea of sensations, every touch sending waves of pleasure through her.Â
She ran her hands over his back, her fingers tracing over the taut muscles, her nails scraping lightly, trying to urge him on. Max felt her nails on his skin, the sting of it only fueling the fire within him. He moved lower, his mouth finding her chest, his tongue flicking over her peaks, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to make her his completely.Â
Y/N felt herself coming undone beneath him, her body responding to his every touch, his every move. She was burning for him, her body on fire with desire. She wanted him, needed him, more than anything.Â
"Max," she gasped, her voice rough and breathless. "Please. I need you. Now."
Max didn't need any more encouragement. He was past the point of no return, consumed by his need for her, his entire body on edge. He positioned himself at her entrance, his body thrumming with anticipation.Â
He looked down at her, her eyes wild and desperate, her body begging for him. He wanted to savor this moment, to commit it to memory. But the need was too overpowering, the hunger too strong.Y/N looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, holding his gaze. She could see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained need burning within him. She wanted to say something, to express her own need, but she couldnât find the words, couldnât break the spell.Â
Instead, she reached for him, her hands pulling him down to her, her body arching against his, silently begging for him to give her what they both so desperately needed. Max couldn't hold back any longer. The feel of her body against his, the fire in her eyes, it was all too much.Â
He pushed into her slowly, her body welcoming him, her heat enveloping him. He groaned, her name a whisper on his lips, as he felt himself being pulled deeper, closer.Â
He started to move, a slow, deep rhythm at first, trying to savor this moment, to make it last. But the feeling, the sheer intensity of it, was too much. He found himself moving faster, harder, deeper, consumed by the need to own her, to make her his, to love her. Max lost himself in her, his body moving with a primal rhythm, his thoughts consumed by desire, by need. He was lost in her, in the feel of her body, the taste of her skin, the sound of her cries.Â
He wanted more, needed more. He needed all of her.
He moved even faster, harder, pulling her closer, deeper, trying to fuse them completely. The pleasure was building, hot and intense, driving them to pleasure. Y/N gasped as he moved, the pleasure building and building, so intense it was on the edge of pain. She held onto him, her nails digging into his skin, her body writhing beneath his.
She couldnât form coherent thoughts, her mind consumed by the sensations, by the burning need. It was all too much, and yet not enough. She wanted more, needed more.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, crying out his name, lost in the fire they had.
Max was beyond reason, beyond control. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building, burning him up from the inside out.Â
He moved even faster, deeper, his body on autopilot, driven by the primal need to possess her, to claim her completely.Â
His hand found her hip, his fingers digging in, holding her in place, holding her to him. "Mine," he growled, his voice rough and possessive. "Youâre mine. All mine." Y/N felt the words down to her core, the possessive tone sending shivers through her body. She wanted to deny it, to rebel against the claim, but the feeling was too strong. She was his, in body, mind, and soul.Â
She moved with him, her body responding to his every move, every touch. She could feel the pleasure building, intense and overwhelming.Â
She reached for him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "God, Max," she gasped, her voice breathless, "Iâm yours. All yours."
Max felt her words like a jolt of electricity. He loved hearing her say it, to hear her admit that she was his. It only fueled the fire within him.Â
He moved even harder, deeper, the need to claim her completely overpowering him. He could feel himself losing control, teetering on the edge.Â
He leaned down, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her skin. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive. "Say you're mine."
Y/N gasped, the pleasure building to almost unbearable heights. The words came easily this time, the truth of them making her heartache. "Iâm yours," she repeated, her voice hoarse and breathless. "Iâm yours, all yours, Max. Only yours."
Max felt his body tense at her words, the fire within him burning hotter than ever. He was so close, so close to losing himself completely.Â
He moved harder, faster, deeper, his body and mind completely consumed by pleasure, by need.Â
He found her mouth, kissing her fiercely, claiming her in every way possible. "Youâre mine," he growled against her lips, "Mine forever." Y/N felt the words wash over her, the possessiveness in them igniting a fire within her. She was lost, completely lost to the sensations, to the feelings he was evoking.Â
She met his kisses with her own, her body moving with his, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful.Â
"Yes," she gasped, her voice breathless and strained, "Always. Always yours."
Max felt the pleasure building, the pressure within him mounting. It was too much. He was on the verge of losing control, losing himself completely to the fire within him.Â
He moved with a frantic pace, his body driven by the need to claim her, to make her fully his.Â
He looked down at her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze as he teetered on the edge, the pleasure reaching its peak. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough and desperate, "Say my name." Y/N felt his body tensing, felt the need in his voice, the fire in his eyes. She was lost in the sensations, in the overwhelming pleasure. She looked up at him, her eyes holding his, her body responding to his every move.Â
She reached up and cupped his face, her thumbs tracing over his skin. "Max," she breathed, her voice a mere whisper, "Max, I'm yours."
Max felt her say his name, the sound of it like a spark igniting the fire within him. The need, the desire, the love he felt for her was overwhelming, all-consuming.Â
He was on the edge now, so close to losing himself completely.Â
He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Damn it, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained, "I love you, I love you so much it hurts."
Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart swelling in her chest. She'd never heard him say those words before, and hearing them now, in this moment, it was overwhelming.Â
She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. "Max," she said, her voice a broken whisper. "I love you too."
Those words, those three little words, they were all it took.Â
Max felt everything in him explode. The pleasure, the need, the love, it all boiled over, consuming him completely.
He let out a guttural moan, his body trembling as he found his release, his mind completely blank, his senses overwhelmed.Â
He held onto her, his body collapsing on top of hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "God, Y/N," he managed to say, his voice rough and hoarse, "I love you so damn much."Â
Y/N felt him shudder against her, the pleasure in his voice sending a thrill through her. She held onto him tightly, her arms around his shoulders, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her release.Â
She held him close, her body cradling his, her hands gently running through his hair. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion, "So, so much."Â
Max buried his face in her neck, his breaths still coming in ragged gasps. He felt raw, vulnerable, and exposed. But he didn't care.Â
He'd just told her he loved her, something he'd never said to anyone before. He'd just given himself to her completely, body, mind, and soul. And it felt right. It felt good.Â
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, his expression soft and filled with tenderness. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "Promise me something."
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. She could see the vulnerability in his gaze, the soft tenderness in his expression.Â
She ran her fingers gently over his cheek, an unspoken promise in her touch. "Anything," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Max felt his heart clench at her response, her words filling him with a mix of hope and fear. He knew what he was about to ask was a lot, a huge risk. But he had to take the chance.
He leaned his forehead against hers, their noses almost touching. "Promise me you'll stay with me," he said, his voice rough and hoarse, "No matter what." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words. She could hear the fear in his voice, the desperate need for reassurance.Â
She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing over his jawline, a silent promise in the touch. "I promise," she said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. "I'll stay, no matter what. Always." Max felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him at her words. Her promise, her reassurance, it was exactly what he needed to hear.Â
He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, his body molding to hers. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, the scent of her like a balm to his soul.Â
He had put his heart on the line, had bared his soul to her, and she had not run away. She had stood her ground and had made him a promise. It was more than he ever dared to hope for. Y/N held him back just as tightly, her arms around his waist, her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece.Â
She could feel the strength in him, the vulnerability. She could see the walls he had worked so hard to build starting to crumble, because of her. Because he loved her.
She ran her fingers through his hair gently, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere, Max. You're stuck with me now." Max chuckled softly against her, the sound a mixture of relief and amusement.
"Oh, I'm stuck with you, am I?" he asked, lifting his head to look down at her, a smirk playing on his lips.Â
He tightened his arms around her, pressing her even closer, his tone teasing. "I guess there's no getting rid of you then, hm?" Y/N laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Nope, sorry. You're stuck with me forever," she quipped, feigning an apologetic tone.
She reached up and ruffled his hair, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You should've thought about that before you fell in love with me," she teased, a smirk curving her lips. Max huffed out a laugh at her retort, his eyes narrowing in mock irritation. "Oh, and that's on me, is it?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.
He pinched her side gently, his fingers drumming against her hip. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said, his tone affectionate. Y/N yelped at the pinch, her body jerking against his. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his grip firm but gentle.
She looked up at him, her expression a mix of mock indignation and playful defiance. "Me, a pain in the ass?" she asked, her words flavored with a hint of laughter, "Oh, please. You love it."Â
Max chuckled again, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He pulled her even closer, his body pressing against hers.
"Maybe I do," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Maybe I love it just as much as I love you."
He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin, his words muffled against her skin. "God, you drive me crazy, you know that?"Â
Y/N shivered as he nuzzled her neck, her breath hitching at the feel of his lips against her skin.Â
She tipped her head back, offering him better access, her hands roaming over his back, tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I don't know," she said, her voice teasing, "Am I supposed to be sorry about that?"
Max nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to send a shiver down her spine.Â
"No," he said, his voice a low growl, "You're not sorry about it, are you?"
He pulled away slightly, looking down at her, his eyes smoldering with heat. "You love driving me crazy," he said, his tone rough and raw. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes, the desire, the heat, it was almost too much to bear.
She felt her own body responding to his, her heart rate quickening, her skin heating up.Â
"Maybe a little bit," she admitted slowly, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. "But can you blame me? You make it so damn easy." Max's eyes darkened at her words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He tightened his arms around her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.Â
"You're playing with fire, darling," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "Careful, or I might just lose control again." Y/N met his gaze, her expression one of feigned innocence. "Who, me?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness.Â
She pressed a hand against his chest, her fingers splayed out over his thudding heart. "But I like seeing you lose control," she confessed, her voice a sultry whisper. "It's incredibly hot." Max's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at her admission, her words like fuel to the fire already burning within him. He leaned forward, his mouth by her ear, his breath hot against her skin.Â
"You're a damn tease," he growled, "And you know it." Y/N chuckled, her breath hitching at the feel of his breath on her skin. "Guilty as charged," she admitted, her tone unapologetic.Â
She shifted against him, her body moving in an unmistakably provocative way. "But you love it," she added, her voice dripping with sultriness.
Max growled again, his hands tightening on her hips, his body responding to her movements. He was losing control again, he could feel it.Â
He could feel the fire within him burning hotter and hotter, the need for her overwhelming. He fought to hold on, to keep his control, but he was losing the battle fast.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his voice rough and strained. "I'm not going to be gentle."
Max's eyes darkened, and his breath caught in his throat. Her touch, her words, they were pushing him towards the edge.Â
Y/N relished the tone of his voice, the low rumble that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. Her hands roamed over his body, her touch light but intentional, designed to fuel the blaze within him. "Who said I wanted you to be gentle?" she asked, her fingers tracing a path down his chest. He could feel his control slipping away, the fire within him burning white-hot. He leaned down, his voice a husky whisper against her ear, "Be careful what you ask for."
Y/N shivered at the heat in his voice, his words sending a thrill through her body.Â
She pressed herself closer to him, her breath coming in short gasps. "I don't want to be careful," she breathed, her hands wandering further down, brushing over the front of his trousers.Â
"I want you, Max, all of you." Max's breath hitched at her words, at the feel of her hand on him. His body was taut, his muscles coiled and tense, ready to snap.
He let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping her hips so tightly it was almost painful.
"You're driving me insane," he ground out, his voice rough and desperate. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."
Y/N loved seeing him like this, desperate and unhinged, all because of her.Â
She pressed her body against his, her hands exploring the planes of his chest. "Maybe that's kind of the point," she teased, her voice low and sultry.Â
"Maybe I want to drive you insane. Maybe I want you to lose control." Max knew he was losing control, but he couldn't find it in him to care.Â
He took his time exploring her body, his touch gentle and reverent. He paid attention to every little gasp and moan that escaped her lips, memorizing what she liked, what made her body arch and shudder beneath him.Â
He wanted to imprint this moment in his memory, to commit her every reaction, every sound, to memory.Â
"You're so damn beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse and rough. Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body responding to every touch, every caress.Â
She'd never experienced anything like this before, this maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, this feeling of being worshiped and adored.Â
She ran her hands over his back, digging her fingers into his flesh, her voice a ragged whisper. "Max please " Max wanted time to stop leaving them in this moment forever but he was a rational man and he knew his with y/n was limited so he would give her anything he wanted. Max pressed his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"What do you want, darling?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, his eyes holding hers.Â
"Anything. I'll give you anything you want."
Y/N felt a wave of tenderness wash over her at his words, at the look in his eyes.Â
She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, her thumb tracing over his cheek. "I want you," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.Â
"Just you. I want all of you."Â
Max's eyes darkened at her words, his heart swelling in his chest.Â
He turned his head, his lips brushing over the palm of her hand. "You have me, darling," he said, his voice low and rough.Â
"You have all of me. I'm yours, completely yours."
Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart fluttering in her chest.Â
She pulled him down for a kiss, her lips moving hungrily against his.Â
"You're mine," she breathed, her voice filled with a possessive edge, "And I'm not letting you go, Max. I'm never letting you go." Max returned her kiss with equal fervor, his body pressing hers into the mattress.Â
He broke away from her mouth, his teeth grazing over her neck.Â
"You're not getting rid of me, darling," he growled, his voice a raw, possessive rumble. "I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me." Max says looking down at her.Â
Y/n smiled sweetly up at cradling the side of his face âof course Iâll have you max. Iâll always have youâ she says softly before kissing him.Â
The next morning, Max found himself slumped in the old, creaky chair by the window, sunlight streaming in and casting warm patches across the worn wooden floor. On the table beside him lay the gun he had been meticulously cleaning, now untouched and gathering dust, as if it mirrored the chaos in his mind. He stared blankly at the intricate details of the firearm the way the light glinted off its polished metal, the grooves of the handle that felt oddly familiar in his grip but his thoughts were far from the present moment.Â
The sharp scent of gunpowder lingered in the air as Max stood in the dimly lit warehouse, his eyes locked on the lifeless body of the man on the floor. Blood pooled around him, staining the concrete beneath. Maxâs pulse barely quickened. Heâd done this before. It had become second nature clean, efficient, unemotional.
Behind him, his father, Jos, stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene with a calm, detached gaze. It was as if this was nothing more than a business transaction. A simple job.
Max wiped the blood from his hands, his heart heavy but his face blank. He was eighteen, and already heâd seen more violence than most men saw in a lifetime. Jos had taught him well and had made sure his son knew the price of loyalty and the consequences of betrayal.
âClean it up, Max,â Jos said, his voice low but commanding. âWe donât leave a mess.â
Max didnât reply. There was no need for words. He moved to the side, motioning to the men who had been waiting for this moment. They began to drag the body out of sight, and Max turned his focus back to his father.
Jos approached, his gaze sharp and assessing. âYou did good. Youâre ready.â
Max swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat. âReady for what, exactly?â
Joâs lips curved into a thin smile. âReady to take on bigger jobs. Youâve proven yourself in the field. You understand the power we hold, the loyalty that binds us.â He looked Max over with a keen eye. âNow, itâs time you start carrying out the work that will solidify our familyâs hold over this city.â
Maxâs stomach tightened. He wasnât sure he liked where this was going, but he wasnât in a position to question it. Not then.
Jos stepped closer, his voice lowering. âThis isnât just about muscle, son. Itâs about strategy. Youâll be making decisions. Learning how to control men, how to make deals, how to enforce our will. This city belongs to us, and I expect you to protect it.â
Max nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that this was more than just killing. This was about taking power, holding onto it with an iron fist, and doing whatever it took to keep the family at the top. He had been raised to believe that this was his destiny.
A few months later, Max was in the backseat of a sleek black car, his knuckles white from gripping the leather seat. His fatherâs business was expanding, and that meant more jobsĂąâŹâjobs that Max didnât feel comfortable doing but never once questioned. His father had trained him to be ruthless, and he would be.
They had just finished a deal with a rival faction, and things had gone south. One of the men involved had tried to double-cross Jos. Now, they were on their way to deal with him, to make sure he never did it again.
Max didnât speak much during the ride. He stared out of the window, his mind going over the plan. Jos had made it clear. The traitor had to pay the price. There was no room for weakness.
When the car stopped in front of an old warehouse, Maxâs body tensed. This wasnât just a simple hit. The man they were after had familyĂąâŹâhis wife, his kids. Max had never been asked to kill an innocent person before, but he knew the game well enough to know that in the world they lived in, anyone could be collateral damage.
Jos stepped out first, followed by Max and his men. They moved swiftly, heading toward the building. Maxâs heart raced as they approached the door, knowing what would come next.
Inside, the man was waiting. He was on his knees, hands bound, his face pale with fear. His wife and children were behind him, terrified, clinging to each other. Jos gave a casual glance over his shoulder to Max, his voice calm but chilling.
âMake sure the wife and kids know their place. Donât let them forget why this happened.â
Max stood frozen, watching the scene unfold. It wasnât just the manâs life at stake now. His whole family was caught in the crossfire.
But Jos didnât hesitate. He ordered the man to be executed in front of his family, making sure the wife and children witnessed it. Maxâs stomach churned as he tried to keep his focus, trying to remind himself that this was the life they lived, that this was what he was trained for. Yet something inside him twisted, recoiling at the sight of the childâs tear-filled eyes.
Afterward, as they walked back to the car, Jos didnât say a word about the mess theyâd left behind, the people who would now be marked for life. But Max could see the pride in his fatherâs eyes. He had done his job. He had proven himself. But in the silence that followed, Max couldnât shake the nagging feeling that what heâd just done was a step too far.
Max sat alone in his fatherâs office one evening, the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on him. He was twenty-two at the time, more deeply enmeshed in the family business than ever before. But it was starting to feel like a prison, and he was beginning to realize he had no way out.
Jos entered the room, his demeanor calm but cold. He had a job for Max a big one. But this time, it wasnât about taking out a rival. This time, it was personal.
âThereâs a traitor within our ranks,â Jos said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. âI need you to take care of him.â
Max looked up, his gaze steady. He had seen this before. He had been the one to carry out such orders countless times. But this time, it felt different. His hand clenched into a fist under the table.
âWho is it?â Max asked, his voice even.
Jos leaned forward, his eyes hard. âYusuf.â
Max froze. The name hit him like a punch to the gut. Yusuf had always been a thorn in the side of the family, but Jos had never considered him a threat not until now.
âWhatâs he done?â Max asked, his voice tight.
Jos didnât answer directly. Instead, he dropped a folder onto the desk. Inside, Max found surveillance photos of Yusuf meeting with rival factions, scheming behind his back.
âHeâs trying to take control of the business. Heâs planning a coup,â Jos said, his tone cold. âAnd I wonât let it happen. You will take care of it, Max. Iâm counting on you.â
Max stared at the photos for a long moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He knew what this meant. If he killed Marco, there would be no turning back. He would be fully entrenched in his fatherâs empire, forever.
But it wasnât just about loyalty anymore. It was about control about power. Max knew he had a choice, but at that moment, he wasnât sure he was ready to make it.
Jos watched him closely, waiting for a response. But Max didnât speak. His mind was already racing, wondering if he could ever truly break free from the chains his father had wrapped around him.
Max had been raised with expectations. His father, Jos, had made sure Max understood early on that loyalty to the family came first. There was no room for weakness, no room for doubt. When Max was barely eighteen, he had been sent on his first assignmentâmore like an initiation.
He still remembered the cold, sterile office of the warehouse, the pungent scent of cigar smoke hanging thick in the air as Jos spoke in that firm, commanding voice.
âYou will do what is necessary, Max,â Jos had said. âThere is no going back from this life. Remember that.â
Maxâs first job was simple: eliminate a rival. No questions asked. No hesitation.
It was a clean job. A quiet job. He did what was required and moved on. There were no emotions, no second thoughtsâonly the task at hand. But that night, when he saw life leave the manâs eyes, something inside him shifted. Something that told him this was the path he had to follow, whether he wanted to or not.
Heâd buried that feeling deep, knowing that he couldnât afford to feel it. Not in his world.Â
âMax?â Y/Nâs voice snapped him back to the present, her soft, hesitant tone pulling him out of his thoughts.
He turned to face her, blinking in surprise. âWhat is it?â
She studied him carefully, her expression softening. âI donât know why you keep doing this for meĂąâŹÂŠ But I think I get it now.â
Max frowned slightly. âGet what?â
âWhy do you keep pushing everyone away,â Y/N said, her eyes locking onto him. âWhy don't you let people get too close.â
Maxâs breath caught in his throat. It was like she could see right through him. He wanted to deny it, to brush her words off, but instead, he found himself standing there, looking at her as if she were the only thing that made sense anymore.
âI donât know how to be anything else,â he admitted quietly, the walls in his chest cracking just enough to let a little vulnerability slip through.
Y/N stepped closer, her voice gentle. âYou donât have to be that person anymore. You donât have to push people away. Not with me.â
Maxâs eyes flickered to hers, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the pull of something warm. Something genuine.
He wasnât sure if he was ready to let go of everything heâd known, but with Y/N standing theres someone who wasnât afraid of his darkness he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could try.
A few months ago, Max had been faced with the ultimate test of loyalty. His father had tasked him with making a choice: protect the familyâs interests or eliminate anyone who stood in their way. There was no room for both.
But something had happened. Something Max couldnât explain. When he thought about Y/N the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel like he wasnât just his fatherâs son Max realized that he didnât want to keep living a life based on violence and betrayal.
The night he decided to leave, he didnât say goodbye to anyone. He just left, taking only what he needed. He couldnât tell Y/N why he was doing it not yet but he knew one thing: He was done with the mafia. For her. For himself.
Max sat beside Y/N, the flickering fire casting long shadows across the room. They had spent the day in silence, both lost in their thoughts, yet more connected than ever. After weeks of running, of living in constant fear, tonight felt different. It felt like they were finding a new rhythm, a new normal.
Max glanced over at Y/N, who was staring into the fire, her expression contemplative. Her presence, once just a source of distraction, had begun to feel like something moreâlike peace.
He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing hers. It was a simple gesture, but it held more weight than words ever could.
Y/N turned to him, her heart beating a little faster. Sheâd been thinking about the same thing the way their bond had been growing. It hadnât been instant, but every moment they shared felt like a small piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Max took a deep breath, his voice quieter than usual. âI never thought Iâd get out. Not really. I was born into this life, Y/N. Raised to take it all in stride. To be the boss. My father made sure of that.â
Y/N didnât respond right away. She just listened, her heart heavy with empathy for the man sitting next to her. She had seen the coldness in his eyes when they first met, but now she understood it. It wasnât who he was it was who he had been forced to be.
âI remember the first time my father sent me out on a job,â Max continued, his voice a little distant as the memory surfaced. âI was eighteen. I didnât even know how to feel about it hell, I didnât even know how to kill someone until he told me exactly how to do it.â
Y/Nâs hand tightened around his, but she didnât speak. She just let him continue, knowing that this was something he had kept buried for far too long.
âI did it,â he said softly, his voice full of a haunting finality. âWithout question. I wasnât a kid anymore. But I was still I donât knowĂąâŹÂŠ broken inside. I couldnât feel what I was supposed to. Like, I knew what I had to do, but it didnât feel real. It didnât feel like me.â
Max paused the weight of his words hanging between them. He turned to face Y/N, his eyes filled with something unspoken.
âUntil I met you.â
Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his words. âMe?â
Max nodded slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. âYou changed everything, Y/N. I didnât know it then, but when I pulled you out of that alleyĂąâŹÂŠ you made me feel something real again.â
Y/Nâs heart thudded in her chest. Her breath caught as she realized the magnitude of what Max was saying. The man who had been hardened by years of violence, who had lived a life of solitude and coldness, was opening up to her. He wasnât just speaking to her as the man who saved her that nightâhe was speaking as someone who had truly started to care.
âI donât know how to do this,â Max continued, his voice thick with emotion. âI donât know how to be this person I feel like Iâm becoming when Iâm with you. Iâve been a monster for so long that Iâm not sure how to be anything else. But when Iâm with you I donât feel like that anymore.â
Y/N could feel the vulnerability in his words, and her heart ached for him. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be.
âI donât need you to be perfect, Max,â she said softly, her voice steady and warm. âI just need you to be you. Thatâs all I ever wanted. BecauseâŠâ
She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat. Her heart was pounding now, and she knew this was a moment they couldnât go back from. She had to be honest, even if it terrified her.
âBecause I love you and you're my best friend,â Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.
Max froze, his entire body still as her words washed over him. It was like time had slowed down, and for a moment, he couldnât breathe. He wasnât sure what to say whether to admit the same feelings he had buried deep inside or to keep pushing them down, afraid of what it would mean.
But then Y/N squeezed his hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and he realized she was just as afraid as he was.
âI love you, too,â he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. âI think I have been for a while now. But I donât know what this means for us, Y/N. I donât know if we can escape the world I came from. And I donât know if I can protect you from it.â
Y/Nâs eyes softened, her thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. âMax,â she said, her voice filled with quiet resolve, âmaybe we canât escape everything. Maybe our pasts will always follow us. But we can choose what we do next. We can choose what we make of this.â
Max let out a deep breath, feeling a weight he didnât know he was carrying to start to lift. He looked at her, truly looked at her for the first time, seeing her not as someone he needed to protect, but as someone he wanted to protect. Someone who had brought light into his darkness.
For the first time in years, Max felt like he could finally choose something for himself. Something good.
He leaned in slowly, his hand gently cupping her face. âThen letâs choose this. Together.â
And in that moment, as their lips met for the third time, everything else faded awayĂąâŹâthe past, the danger, the uncertainty. There were only them.
But even as they shared this moment, the danger was still very much alive. Marcoâs men had been closing in on them for weeks, and though they had been successful in evading capture, Max knew it was only a matter of time before they would have to face the consequences of their choices.
As they pulled apart, Maxâs mind went back to the life he had left behind. Marco wasnât someone who would let his sonâs disappearance go unanswered. And his fatherâs wrath was never far behind.
âI wonât let anyone hurt you,â Max vowed, his voice low and fierce. âNo matter what happens, Iâll protect you.â
Y/N met his gaze, her expression determined. âI trust you, Max. And Iâll fight with you. I donât want to run anymore.â
The resolve in her voice made Maxâs heart race. They were no longer just running from the past. They were ready to face whatever came next together.
And in that moment, they knew the fight was far from over. But at least they had each other. And that gave them more strength than they had ever known.
Max held her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest. He knew they had very little time before Marcoâs men found them. But in that moment, all he could feel was her. The softness of her skin against his, the warmth of her breath on his neck.
He ran his fingers through her hair, his voice low. "There's something I have to tell you, darling."
âI know who you are Max,â Y/n says before Max can say anything else. Max is caught off guard by her words, his hand stilling in her hair. He looks down at her, his eyes dark and intense.Â
"You knew?" he says, his voice a low rumble.Â
He was not sure what he was expecting from her, but this wasnât it. He'd been so careful to keep his true identity from her, to shield her from the darkness of his world. Y/N nods, her expression solemn but firm.Â
She reaches up, placing her hand on his chest. She can feel his heart beating fast beneath her fingertips.Â
âIâve known for a while,â she admits softly. âI saw some things. Heard some things. I put it together.âÂ
Max just stares at her for a moment, processing her words. He wasnât sure why he was surprised. She was smart and observant. Of course, she would figure it out eventually. He lets out a breath, his jaw clenching. "Why didnât you say anything?"Â
His voice is rough with emotion, a mixture of vulnerability and defensiveness. He had spent so much time and energy trying to keep this part of himself hidden from her. Now it seemed pointless.Â
Y/N steps closer, her hand sliding up to press against his cheek. She looks at him with a mixture of understanding and concern.Â
âI didnât want you to think I was judging you,â she says, her voice gentle. âI know I know what youâve been through. What youâve done. But I also know that youâre more than your past, Max.â Her words hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. He had expected judgment, fear, and disappointment. But all he saw in her eyes was acceptance, understanding, love.Â
His shoulders sag with a mixture of relief and confusion. How could she see the monster in him and still look at him like he was someone worth saving?
He pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. He doesnât know how to process the range of emotions running through him.Â
âYou should hate me,â he mutters, his voice hoarse with raw emotion. âYou should be afraid.â
Y/N wraps her arms around him in return, holding him just as fiercely. She buries her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him.Â
âI donât hate you, Max,â she says quietly, her voice quivering slightly. âI love you. okay Max I love you and I donât know how much longer we have together but as long as Iâm with you Iâll keep reminding you that.â Maxâs heart clenches at her words, his grip on her tightening. He hadnât dared hope that she would say that. Not after everything he had done, everything he had been.Â
He pulls back slightly so he can look into her eyes. Theyâre glossy with unshed tears, but her gaze is unflinching, her determination clear. âI donât deserve you,â he whispers, his voice rough. âYouâre too good for me, too pure. Iâll just end up hurting you, or IâllâŠâÂ
He trails off, unable to continue. It was the same fear that had been eating at him since the moment he realized he cared for her. The fear that he would destroy her, tainted her with his darkness. Y/N cups his face in her hands, making him look at her. Her eyes search his, her expression resolute.Â
âYou donât get to decide whoâs good enough for me,â she tells him firmly. âAnd I donât care if you think youâll hurt me. I can handle it. Iâm choosing to be with you.âÂ
Max leans his head down, resting his forehead against hers. Her words make something deep within him ache. He was used to people leaving him, abandoning him. And yet here she was, throwing herself into the fire for him.Â
âYouâre the most stubborn woman Iâve ever met,â he mutters, unable to hide the hint of affection in his voice.
Y/N laughs softly, the sound a sweet melody to his ears. âYou love it,â she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.Â
Max snorts, his lips curving up in a wry grin. And despite the danger lurking on the edges of their happiness, he knows sheâs right. He does love it. He loves her.
He pulls her closer, his arms encircling her waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, they just stand there, holding each other. And in that moment, all the worries, all the dangers seem to melt away.Â
Until the sound of footsteps outside the room shattered the fragile peace they had created.
Marco had never liked Max. Marco hated Maxâs very existence. The tension between them had been palpable for years, even when Max had been under his fatherâs roof. Jos had always been the better leader, the more controlled, more calculating of the two. But Marco was ruthless in ways Jos never was.
When Max had left, disappearing into the night without a word, it was Marcoâs fury that had been unleashed first. Jos, while angry, had been more patient, biding his time. But Marco? He wanted revenge.
Marcoâs first move was to send out his men to track Maxâs movements. He had no intention of letting Josâ son walk away unpunished. Maxâs defection had shaken the power dynamic in the family. Marco needed to reassert his dominance, to remind everyone that he was still in charge.
Max had been careful, covering his tracks and using everything he had learned in the mafia world to stay hidden. But Marcoâs resources were vast, and his men were killed.
After days of searching, one of Marcoâs men finally got a lead. A rumor, a whisper, a sighting. It wasnât much, but it was enough to set the machine in motion.
Marco got the report late in the afternoon. He read through it slowly, his expression darkening with each word. But when he got to the end, he smiled a cruel, cold smile.Â
He knew right where to find Max, and once he had him, there would be hell to pay. That night, a group of Marcoâs men were sent to the location where Max and Y/N were staying. They moved with military precision, their footsteps silent, their weapons loaded and ready.
Max was vigilant, his ears straining for any sound that didnât belong. This was the sort of situation he had been preparing for, and he wasn't going to let his guard down now. Max heard the first sound, a soft scuffle of shoes against gravel. He tensed, his eyes darting to the door. Y/N, dozing on the bed, noticed his sudden tension and sat up.
âWhat is it?â she whispered, her voice betraying her fear.Â
Max didnât answer. He was listening intently, trying to gauge how many men were outside. He could hear at least three, possibly more. They were circling the building, searching for a point of entry.
Max glanced around the room, his mind racing. They had to get moving, and quickly. His gaze fell on the window, and he silently cursed. It was small, barely big enough for him to fit through. But it would have to do.
âY/N,â he said quietly, his voice urgent. âGet up. We need to go, now.â
She didnât question him, knowing now was not the time. She stood, quickly pulling on her shoes. Max moved to the window, quietly pushing it open.
Just then, there was a loud bang on the front door. Marcoâs men had found the entrance. Maxâs body tensed even further, his jaw clenching. They had seconds if that. Max turned to Y/N and held out his hand. âYou first,â he said, his voice a low growl. Y/N didnât hesitate, she climbed onto the windowsill and squeezed out through the opening.
Max followed, grunting as he had to force his broad shoulders through the narrow space. He dropped to the ground next to Y/N, his eyes on the door. It shook again as someone slammed against it from the other side.
âStay close to me,â Max muttered, gripping Y/Nâs arm. He started to move, keeping to the shadows. They had to reach the woods and the car before Marcoâs men could catch them. They had just reached the tree line when the first shots rang out. Max pushed Y/N behind a tree for cover, his body shielding hers. He could hear Marcoâs men shouting, their footsteps loud and aggressive.
Max and Y/N moved cautiously through the woods, their steps light but deliberate. Theyâd been on edge for days, the tension between them rising with every passing hour. Max kept glancing over his shoulder, scanning the tree line.
âThis isnât good,â Max muttered, his voice low. âWeâre too exposed out here.â
Y/N stayed close, her hand gripping the strap of her bag. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, the air thick with anxiety.
Suddenly, the faint sound of a twig snapping echoed in the distance, cutting through the quiet night. Max stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. He held up a hand to signal for Y/N to stay silent.
He motioned for her to stay behind a tree while he moved forward, moving like a shadow through the underbrush. His every sense was on high alert now, instincts kicking in. The danger was close, much closer than they had realized.
And then, he saw them.
A group of men, dressed in dark clothing, moved stealthily through the forest. They were too far to be a threat yet, but Max knew it was only a matter of time before they got closer.
Max took a step back, retreating slowly to where Y/N waited. His mind was racing. Marcoâs men were on their tail.
âTheyâre here,â Max said, his voice tight. âWe need to move. Now.â
Y/Nâs eyes widened. âHow many of them?â
âAt least five,â Max replied, his voice steady despite the rising tension. âMaybe more. Theyâve got us pinned down.â
Marco wasnât just looking for Max. He was searching for something more. He had learned about Y/N the woman who had been with Max, the one who had caused the shift in him. Marco had heard whispers about her, and he didnât like what heâd heard.
In his mind, she was a weakness. A liability.
âFind her,â Marco had commanded his men, âand bring her to me. Iâll deal with Max myself. But if sheâs as important to him as I think, sheâll be the key to getting him back.â
Marcoâs obsession with control meant he couldnât afford any loose ends, especially not someone who could pull Max away from the life he was supposed to lead.
Max and Y/N moved through the trees, their bodies close, keeping low. The fear was palpable now, but they couldnât afford to let it consume them. They had to outsmart Marcoâs men and get to safety before they were cornered.
Max knew the woods like the back of his hand, but this time, it wasnât just about survival. This was about protecting Y/N, and that was a different kind of pressure.
They made their way toward a hidden path, hoping to use it as an escape route. But just as they thought they were in the clear, a voice rang out from behind them.
âMax! I know youâre out there.â It was Marcoâs voice, smooth and menacing.
Max froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldnât let Marco get to them. Not now, not ever.
He turned to Y/N, his face grim. âRun. Iâll hold them off.â
Y/N grabbed his arm, her grip firm. âWe run together, Max. Iâm not leaving you.â
Max met her eyes, seeing the fear and determination in her gaze. He knew she wouldnât back down, but they didnât have much time.
âWeâll fight our way out,â he said, his voice steady. âTogether.â
Sure, letâs continue the scene with Max and Y/N facing Marcoâs men. The tension is high as they are cornered, but their bond is stronger than ever. This moment will test their trust in each other and their survival instincts.
Maxâs heart raced as the voice of Marco rang out through the woods, sending a chill down his spine. The men were closing in on them, and the space around them seemed to shrink with every passing second.
âMax!â Marcoâs voice echoed again, closer this time. âI know youâre out there. You canât hide forever!â
Y/Nâs grip on Max tightened as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The woods, once a place of refuge, now felt like a trap. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the fear threatening to overtake her, but Maxâs steady presence beside her kept her grounded.
âStay close,â Max murmured, his voice low but firm.
They moved quickly through the trees, but the sound of crunching leaves underfoot told them they werenât going unnoticed. The pursuit was relentless.
Max knew they didnât have much time. He had to think fast if they tried to run, theyâd be easy targets. But if they could hold their ground for a moment, maybe, just maybe, they could make it out alive.
He looked around, searching for a way out. His eyes landed on an old cabin in the distance. The roof was partially caved in, but it was close enough that they could take refuge there at least for a little while.
âOver there,â Max said, his eyes locking with Y/Nâs. âWe can make it to that cabin. Stay low. Stick to the shadows.â
Y/N nodded, her face set with determination. She had come this far with Max, and there was no way she was backing down now. Together, they could get through this.
As they darted toward the cabin, a rustling sound broke through the air then the unmistakable sound of footsteps closing in. They were almost there, just a few more yards.
Maxâs pulse quickened. He could hear the men behind them, their voices now loud and clear as they gave chase. Marcoâs men were skilled, and they werenât going to stop until they had Max and Y/N in their grasp.
âDonât stop!â Max urged, his hand gripping Y/Nâs as they pushed forward, the cabin getting closer by the second.
But just as they reached the door of the cabin, a sharp voice called out from the trees.
âThere they are! Donât let them get away!â
Max spun around just in time to see two of Marcoâs men burst from the trees, guns drawn, closing in on them.
âShit,â Max muttered under his breath. He didnât have a choice anymoreâhe had to make a stand.
He grabbed Y/Nâs arm and pulled her behind the cover of the cabin, forcing her to crouch low. He motioned for her to stay still as he pulled out his gun, the weight of it familiar in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, but he knew what he had to do. Protect her. No matter the cost.
Max peeked around the corner, trying to get a better look at their attackers. He could see two men approaching, their eyes scanning the area. They hadnât seen them yet, but they were getting closer.
Y/Nâs breath was shaky, but she stayed silent, her eyes wide with fear as she watched Max prepare. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was trying to anticipate their next move.
Max squeezed her hand once, reassuring her without words. They had to make this count.
Then, before he could react, the men rounded the corner of the cabin, their guns raised.
Max fired first.
The loud crack of the gunshot echoed through the woods, and one of the men staggered back, clutching his shoulder. The second man didnât hesitate, immediately returning fire.
Max dove behind the cabinâs decaying wall, pulling Y/N with him. The bullets whizzed by, but they were safe for now, at least behind the cover.
âStay down,â Max hissed through clenched teeth. His mind raced, looking for a way out. He couldnât keep fighting here it was a losing battle.
Y/Nâs eyes flicked to the gun in Maxâs hand, and she nodded. âWhatâs the plan?â
Maxâs gaze shifted toward the trees behind them, calculating his next move. âWeâre going to make a run for it. On my mark.â
But before he could finish, he heard the unmistakable sound of boots crunching the leaves behind them. Maxâs pulse surged in his chest. He wasnât sure how many men Marco had sent, but he knew they couldnât stay here much longer.
He turned to Y/N, his voice quiet but urgent. âWe move in three, twoâ
The words were cut off by a voiceĂąâŹâcold and commandingĂąâŹâthat sliced through the night.
âYou think you can run from me, Max?â
Maxâs blood ran cold as Marco stepped into view from the tree line, his dark eyes fixed on them. His expression was calm, almost amused, as though he were merely observing a game he had already won.
Marco was a man who controlled everything he touched, and he would not allow his blood to slip through his fingers.
Max didnât flinch. âMarco.â
The tension between them was palpable, thick as the air around them. Max stood his ground, his gun raised, but Marco made no move to draw his weapon. His men, however, were ready, guns trained on Max and Y/N.
âYouâre making a mistake, Max,â Marco said, his tone almost pitiful. âYou canât escape who you are. Youâre mine, boy. Your fatherâs not here to protect you, and now youâre mine to deal with.â
Maxâs grip tightened on his gun, but Y/N moved to stand beside him, her body rigid with fear, yet unwavering. She was ready. âNo,â she said, her voice strong. âHeâs not yours, Marco. Heâs his person now. You donât control him anymore.â
Marcoâs eyes flickered toward her, a dark glint of amusement crossing his face. âAnd you do you think youâre going to change that? A woman? How sweet. But youâre just as much of a liability as he is.â
Max stepped in front of her, his face hard. âYouâll never touch her, Marco.â
Marcoâs smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. âYou believe that? You think I wonât do whatever it takes to bring you back? To make you remember who you are?â
Maxâs jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his gun. But he didnât lower it. Not yet.
He knew what Marco wantedĂąâŹâto break him, to remind him of the life he had walked away from. But Max wouldnât give him the satisfaction. Not now. Not when Y/N was by his side.
âYou can try, Marco,â Max said, his voice low and steady. âBut weâre not going back.â
Marcoâs eyes glinted with something darker, more dangerous, as his lips curled into a sinister smile. He had Max exactly where he wanted him: cornered, with nowhere to run. But the fire in Maxâs eyes told Marco that this time, things were different.
âYou think youâre untouchable?â Marco sneered, slowly circling Max and Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. His men stood at the ready, watching for any sign of movement. âYouâre still my blood. Youâre still bound by everything Father taught you. Taught me. Donât pretend youâve forgotten where you came from.â
Max held his ground, his gun still aimed at Marco. His pulse thundered in his ears, but his mind was clear. The old Max might have hesitated, might have been tempted by the power Marco offered, but that man was gone. The past was in the past. The present was all that mattered now.
âWhat do you mean by blood?â Max asked as far as he knew he was Josâ only son but he also wouldnât have put it past his father to have affairs with other women before or after he was born.Â
âThe old man never told you?â Marco says cockily with a chuckle, taking the barrel of the gun and tapping the side of his head with it before pointing it back at the two of them.Â
Maxâs expression hardened, his mind racing. âWhat are you talking about, Marco?â he demanded, his voice tight.
Marcoâs grin only widened, a mocking glint in his eyes. âPoor little Max, the golden child, left in the dark.â He tapped the side of his head again with the gun, clearly enjoying himself. âOld man Jos never told you he hadĂąâŹÂŠ extracurriculars?â
Maxâs stomach twisted as realization began to creep in. âWhat are you saying?â
Marco chuckled, lowering the gun slightly as he leaned in closer. âIâm saying, dear brother,â he spat the word with bitterness, âthat Iâm as much a part of his legacy as you are. The only difference? I was the one left to fend for myself while you got the title, the protection, the kingdom handed to you.â
Maxâs jaw clenched, anger flashing across his face. âYou think I wanted any of that?â
âOh, Iâm sure youâd rather be in your cozy little bookstore, playing at a normal life,â Marco sneered, âbut blood is blood, Max. And whether you like it or not, Iâm here to claim my piece.â
Max held Marcoâs gaze, searching for any sign that this was some sick joke. But the anger in Marcoâs eyes was real, years of resentment boiling to the surface.
âYou think youâre entitled to something just because of blood?â Max shot back, his voice cold. âJos barely treated me like a son. Whatever you think he gave me, it was a curse.â
Marco laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. âOh, you poor thing. Life in the big house, daddyâs golden boy, all while I grew up in the shadows. Do you know what that does to a person? Watching someone else live the life that shouldâve been yours?â
âNothing about this life was a gift,â Max replied, his voice low and dangerous. âAnd if you think Jos would have done any better by you, then you didnât know him at all.â
Marcoâs expression darkened, his grip tightening on the gun. âMaybe not. But I know one thing: you donât deserve to walk away from all this. To pretend you can just leave and play house with your little bookstore.â He spat on the ground. âI clawed my way here, Max. Everything I have, I earned. And Iâm not leaving empty-handed.â
Max took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. âSo whatâs the plan, Marco? You think you can just waltz in, wave a gun around, and take whatever you think I owe you?â
âOh, I think I can do a lot more than that.â Marco smirked, stepping closer. âYou may have walked away from Josâ empire, but that leaves it wide open for someone else to take over. Maybe Iâm not here for revenge, Max. Maybe Iâm here to make you an offer.â
Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. âAn offer?â
Marcoâs grin was almost feral. âYou and me. We take whatâs left of the empire, rebuild it, make it ours. All that power, that legacyĂąâŹâitâs in our blood, Max. Think about it.â
For a moment, the weight of Marcoâs words hung between them. The idea was tempting in a dark, twisted wayĂąâŹâa chance to take control of the very thing that had once controlled him. But Max shook his head, breaking the spell.
âI left that life for a reason,â he said firmly. âIâm not going back, and I sure as hell wonât do it with you.â
Marcoâs smile faded, replaced by a look of cold fury. âThen youâre a fool, Max. And if you wonât help me, youâll wish you had. Because one way or another, Iâm taking whatâs mine.â
Y/N stood at Maxâs side, her hand clenched into a fist. She was terrified, but her trust in Max was unwavering. She had seen the darkness that Max had been through, and she had witnessed the fight inside him to rise above it. This wasnât the man Marco thought he could control anymore. This was a different MaxĂąâŹâa man who had chosen his own path.
Marcoâs gaze flickered to her, the hatred clear in his eyes. He knew that Y/N was the root of the problem. She had changed everything for MaxĂąâŹâhis priorities, his mindset, his resolve. Marco would never allow that.
âYou think youâre going to protect her?â Marco laughed coldly. âYou think youâre going to keep her safe from me? From us?â
Max took a step forward, narrowing the distance between himself and his uncle. His jaw clenched. âI wonât let you touch her, Marco. Not now. Not ever.â
Marcoâs smirk faltered for just a moment, his eyes scanning Maxâs face. Then his gaze snapped to the men around them. He nodded once, and they started to advance, inching closer to where Max and Y/N stood.
Maxâs mind worked at lightning speed. He wasnât about to let them get close. He had to get Y/N out of here. He had to protect her.
Without warning, Max fired another shot, taking down one of Marcoâs men who had started to raise his weapon. The shot echoed through the night, a violent reminder of the stakes at hand.
âMove!â Max shouted at Y/N, grabbing her arm. They couldnât stay here. Not now.
She didnât need any further encouragement. She followed him, her legs pumping as they sprinted toward the trees. Marcoâs men were still firing, but Max kept them off-balance, shooting at the trees to force them back.
âKeep running!â Max barked.
They ran as fast as they could, the sound of gunshots ringing in the air around them. Y/Nâs breath came out in sharp, panicked gasps, but she stayed close to Max, her trust in him more solid than ever.
Max could feel the weight of every step, the knowledge that they were being hunted pushing him forward. He couldnât let Marco win. Not now.
As they ran, Maxâs thoughts briefly flickered back to the life he had once knownĂąâŹâthe life his father, Jos, had dragged him into.
The world of the mafia wasnât a world Max had chosen. He had been born into it, groomed for it, shaped by it. But it was never what he wanted.
Jos had always pushed Max harder than anyone else, forcing him to take on dangerous assignments. There had been jobs that Max had carried out without questionĂąâŹâjobs he didnât want to think about now. There had been a hit in the dead of night on a rival gang leader. Max had pulled the trigger himself, following his fatherâs orders without a second thought.
Then there had been the night heâd been forced to take care of a traitorĂąâŹâa man who had once been loyal to his family but had turned on them. Max had done what he was told, even when it meant silencing a man who had once been a friend. He had never questioned Jos. He had believed in his fatherâs vision for the family until the day he realized it wasnât a vision. It was a prison.
But then came Y/N.
She had been the catalyst. The thing that had shifted everything for Max. The moment heâd saved her, it was as if a new path had opened before him a path that wasnât dictated by bloodlines or mafia codes. A path that was free of Marcoâs influence. A path that was his own.
The small house that Max had found was tucked away on the outskirts of town, hidden by the dense trees. They reached it just as the sound of the vehicles grew louder, the engines rumbling through the night like a looming storm. Max quickly led Y/N inside, locking the door behind them with practiced ease.
He glanced out of the window, his fingers brushing over the gun in his jacket. He knew they didnât have much time. He had learned to read the patterns of Marcoâs menĂąâŹâhow they moved, how they searchedĂąâŹâbut this time, it felt different. The air was thicker, the pressure mounting with every passing minute.
Y/N sat down on the rickety old couch, trying to calm her nerves, but the weight of the situation was wearing on her. She looked over at Max, who was pacing in front of the window, his eyes focused on the road that led into the woods.
âMaxĂąâŹÂŠâ she said softly, her voice breaking through the silence. âI know youâre scared. I can see it. But you donât have to do this alone.â
Max froze, his back stiffening. He didnât turn around immediately, but after a long moment, he finally faced her, his expression unreadable. His gaze softened slightly, though the tension was still palpable.
âYou donât get it, Y/N,â he said, his voice low and rough. âIâve spent my whole life doing things I canât take back. Iâve hurt people, ruined livesĂąâŹâall for my family, for the empire. But none of that matters now. All that matters is you.â
He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers for understanding. âIf anything happens to you, I wonât be able to live with myself. I donât care about anything else anymore. I just want you safe. Away from this mess.â
Tears welled up in Y/Nâs eyes as she stood up, closing the distance between them. She could see the inner turmoil in his eyesĂąâŹâthe battle he was fighting between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be. She reached out, touching his cheek gently.
âYou donât have to carry this burden alone,â she whispered, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down his face. âIâm here, Max. Iâm not going anywhere.â
For the first time in what felt like forever, Max allowed himself to lean into her touch. His shoulders sagged, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He had spent so long running from his past, trying to protect her from it, that he hadnât stopped to let her in. But now, in this moment, with Marcoâs men closing in, he realized something.
He couldnât keep fighting this battle alone. Not anymore.
The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the dense woods as Max and Y/N made their way through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of fallen leaves. Maxâs eyes darted back and forth, scanning the area, his senses heightened. He could hear the distant hum of engines and the faint crackle of radio chatter. Marcoâs men were closing in, and they had to keep moving.
Y/N stayed close to him, her breath shallow as she clutched onto Maxâs jacket, her face pale but resolute. She could feel the tension radiating off of him. Sheâd never seen him like this beforeĂąâŹâso focused, so fierce. He wasnât just trying to protect her; he was fighting a battle within himself. She could sense the weight of his past pushing against the choices he was trying to make for their future.
âMax we canât keep running like this,â Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. âWe need a plan. We canât outrun them forever.â
Max didnât answer right away, his jaw clenched as he led her further into the woods, pushing through the underbrush with urgency. He knew she was right. But how could he make a plan when everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers? Marco and his men werenât just after him anymore. They were after both of them. And the only thing standing between Y/N and them was Maxâs desperation to keep her safe.
âWeâll figure it out,â Max finally muttered, his voice strained. âJust trust me, okay?â
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She had always known Max had a dark past, but seeing him like thisâso different from the man she first metâtugged at her heart. She wanted to believe they could escape this life, but the more she saw of Maxâs world, the more she realized how deeply entrenched he was.
âMax, please,â she urged, her grip tightening on his arm. âWe need to talk. Youâre not just running from them. Youâre running from yourself.â
Maxâs heart clenched at her words, but he didnât respond. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him down a narrow path that led to a small clearing ahead. He could see the glimmer of headlights cutting through the darknessĂąâŹâMarcoâs men were getting closer. He needed to get them to the safe house he had prepared, and he needed to get there fast.
Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside somewhere in the woods jerked Max out of his thoughts. His eyes went wide, and in one fluid motion, he reached for his gun, his heart racing. Y/Nâs breath caught in her throat as she stepped back, realizing the time had come.
Max turned to face her, his face hardening. âStay behind me,â he ordered, his voice steely. âNo matter what happens, donât move.â
Y/N nodded, her hands trembling as she pressed herself against the wall. She could hear the sounds of footsteps outside, the distinct thud of boots crunching on gravel.
The door burst open without warning, and in stepped Marco, flanked by several of his men. His face was cold, calculating, as he looked around the small cabin.
âWell, wellĂąâŹÂŠ Max,â Marcoâs voice dripped with disdain. âI was hoping we could do this the easy way. But it looks like weâre doing it the hard way, after all.â
Max didnât flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes never leaving Marcoâs. The gun in his hand was steady, though the tension in his body was anything but.
âThis ends tonight, Marco,â Max said, his voice low, but his words cutting through the air like a blade. âYouâre not going to take her from me. I wonât let you.â
Marco chuckled, a mocking sound that echoed in the cabin. âYou really think you can stop me? Youâve been running from your past, Max. You canât outrun the family. You canât outrun me.â
Maxâs jaw clenched, his hand tightening around the gun. âI donât care about the family anymore. I donât care about the empire. I care about her. And if you think for one second that Iâll let you destroy thatĂąâŹÂŠ youâre wrong.â
Maxâs heart pounded as he faced off against Marco, his fatherâs enforcer and the one man who had haunted him for years. Marcoâs cold smirk was gone, replaced by a steely determination that Max knew all too well. For Marco, this was a matter of principle, a ruthless reminder that no oneĂąâŹâespecially not Josâ sonĂąâŹâcould turn his back on the family.
âYouâve always thought you were better than this life,â Marco sneered, circling Max like a predator sizing up its prey. âBut youâre a fool if you think you can escape it. Itâs in your blood, Max. It always will be.â
Max held his ground, his body tense. âIâm nothing like you, Marco. Nothing like my father.â
Marcoâs gaze darkened, his voice dripping with contempt. âThen why are you still here, trying to protect her?â He nodded toward Y/N, who was still hidden in the shadows, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. âIf you cared about her, youâd know youâre putting her life on the line.â
Maxâs grip tightened on his gun, his jaw clenching. âI am protecting her. Iâm protecting her from people like you.â
Marco laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. âYou canât protect her from this world, Max. You were born into it, and now, so is she. Youâve made her a part of this, and thereâs no escaping it.â
With a slight nod, Marco signaled his men to close in, their weapons raised. Maxâs pulse raced, but he refused to back down. He had to think fast, act faster. The exit was blocked, and the only way out was through Marco and his men.
âStay back, Y/N!â Max called over his shoulder. He didnât dare take his eyes off Marco, but he could feel Y/Nâs gaze on him, her fear mixed with determination.
But Y/N didnât listen. She stepped out from behind the crates, her eyes flashing with defiance. âIâm not leaving you, Max.â
âY/NĂąâŹââ Max started, but it was too late.
Marco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. âLook at thisĂąâŹâloyalty. Almost touching, isnât it?â
Maxâs patience snapped. He lunged forward, his fists colliding with Marcoâs chest as they grappled. Marcoâs men sprang into action, but Y/N, summoning every ounce of courage, threw herself into the fray, grabbing a fallen pipe from the floor and swinging it at one of Marcoâs henchmen. The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, giving Max a moment to break free of Marcoâs grip.
âRun!â Max shouted to Y/N, but she stayed put, her eyes blazing with determination. Together, they fought, their movements almost in sync as they faced down Marco and his men. Max knew they couldnât hold out forever, but they had to try.
Marco, recovering quickly, let out a snarl. âYouâre just delaying the inevitable, Max. Weâll hunt you down. Both of you.â
Max ignored him, his focus razor-sharp as he dodged another attack. They moved toward the exit, inch by inch, fighting off anyone who got in their way. But then, just as they neared the door, Marco raised his gun, aiming it directly at Y/N.
Maxâs heart stopped. In that split second, everything slowed down.
âNo!â he shouted, throwing himself in front of Y/N just as the gun went off. The shot echoed through the room, and pain seared through his shoulder. But he didnât stopĂąâŹâhe couldnât. He pushed Y/N toward the door, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious.
âGo, Y/N!â he gasped, his voice hoarse with pain. âGet to the car!â
Y/N hesitated, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She sprinted toward the car, her heart pounding as she heard the sounds of the struggle behind her.
Max stumbled after her, his hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder, but he refused to fall. He refused to let Marco win. With a final burst of strength, he reached the car and collapsed into the driverâs seat, slamming the door just as Y/N hit the gas.
They sped away, leaving Marco and his men in the dust, but the weight of what had just happened hung heavy between them.
As they drove through the night, Max leaned back, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his shoulder was agonizing, but he forced himself to focus, to stay conscious. Y/Nâs hands gripped the steering wheel, her face a mixture of fear and worry as she glanced over at him.
âYouâre hurt,â she whispered, her voice breaking.
Max forced a faint smile. âIâll live.â
But the truth was, he didnât know how much longer they could keep running. They were in deeper than heâd ever anticipated, and Marco wouldnât stop until he had them both.
âMaxĂąâŹÂŠâ Y/Nâs voice was barely a whisper. âWhy did you do it? Why did you risk everything for me?â
Max met her gaze, his expression softening despite the pain. âBecause youâre worth it. BecauseĂąâŹÂŠ because for the first time in my life, I have something real. Something worth fighting for.â
Y/Nâs eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, reaching over to take his hand. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation sinking in.
Finally, Max spoke, his voice filled with determination. âWeâre going to get through this, Y/N. I donât know how, but we will.â
Back at the hideout, Marco paced furiously, his face twisted with rage. His men were scattered, licking their wounds, but the real wound was to his pride. Max had defied himĂąâŹâand worse, he had escaped.
Josâ voice echoed in Marcoâs head, a reminder of the familyâs iron rule: No one leaves. No one defies us.
But Marco was not one to give up easily. He knew Max would be on the run, hiding in the shadows. And he knew exactly where to look.
âSpread out,â he ordered his men, his voice cold and unwavering. âFind them. And bring them back alive. I want Max to see what happens to those who betray the family.â
Marcoâs men nodded, their faces grim as they set off into the night. They knew the consequences of failure all too well.
As dawn broke, Max and Y/N pulled into a small, run-down motel on the edge of town. Y/N helped Max inside, guiding him to a bed where he could rest. She quickly set to work cleaning his wound, her hands gentle but determined.
As she worked, Max studied her face, his heart aching with a mixture of love and guilt. He had dragged her into a world of danger, into a life she didnât deserve. But he also knew he couldnât let her go.
âY/N,â he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. âIâm sorryĂąâŹÂŠ for everything.â
Y/N looked up, her eyes fierce. âDonât you dare apologize, Max. You saved me. Youâve protected me. And I chose to be here with you.â
Maxâs heart swelled, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. âWeâre going to have to disappear. Go somewhere Marco and my father canât find us.â
Y/N nodded, her expression resolute. âThen thatâs what weâll do. Weâll leave all of this behind.â
For the first time, a glimmer of hope sparked between them. They had a long road ahead, but together, they had a chance.
As Max lay back, drifting into a restless sleep, he thought about the life he was leaving behindĂąâŹâthe family, the power, the legacy. It was a life he had never wanted, a world he was finally breaking free from.
But he knew that as long as Jos and Marco were out there, they would never stop coming for him and Y/N. They would always be looking over their shoulders, always running. Unless Max found a way to end it once and for all.
When he awoke, Max knew what he had to do. It was risky, and it might cost him everything. But he would do it, for Y/N, for their future.
âY/N,â he said, his voice filled with a new resolve. âItâs time to end this.â
She looked at him, understanding in her eyes. âWhat are we going to do?â
Max took her hand, a spark of determination in his gaze. âWeâre going to take down Marco. And then weâre going to be free.â
Max and Y/N knew they couldnât do this alone. Marco was cunning, ruthless, and had a network of men at his disposal. But Max also knew that not everyone in his fatherâs organization was loyal to Marco. Some were just like him, caught in a world they never wanted to be a part of, bound by fear rather than loyalty.
Max glanced over at Y/N, who was leaning over a map, marking down possible locations where they could corner Marco and his men. The determination in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasnât just in this to survive; she was ready to fight back.
âI know someone who might be able to help us,â Max said, breaking the silence.
Y/N looked up, curiosity in her eyes. âWho?â
âAn old friend of mine, Victor. He was part of the family but left years ago. He managed to disappear and stay under the radar. If anyone knows how to avoid Marcoâs reachĂąâŹâand take him downĂąâŹâitâs him.â
Y/N nodded, hope sparking in her expression. âDo you think heâll help us?â
Max hesitated, memories of Victor flashing through his mind. Theyâd gone through a lot together, but things had soured when Victor left, realizing he couldnât stomach the violence or the lack of control over his own life. Max had respected him for it, but heâd stayed behind, tied by his loyalty to his father.
âHeâll help us,â Max said finally. âIf he knows whatâs at stake, heâll come through.â
A few days later, Max and Y/N arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It was one of the few places Victor trusted for clandestine meetings, and Max hoped his old friend still frequented it.
The place was dark and eerily quiet, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of oil. Maxâs nerves were on edge as they waited, his hand instinctively hovering near his weapon.
After what felt like an eternity, they heard footsteps approaching. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his face partially hidden beneath the brim of a worn baseball cap. As he stepped into the light, Max recognized him immediatelyĂąâŹâVictor, looking older but just as intense as he remembered.
âMax,â Victor greeted him, his tone cautious. His gaze shifted to Y/N, and he raised an eyebrow. âAnd you must be the reason Marco has been tearing the city apart looking for him.â
Y/N managed a faint smile. âI guess you could say that.â
Victor let out a dry chuckle, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. âYouâve stirred up a lot of trouble, Max. Marcoâs men are everywhere. And JosĂąâŹâwell, heâs none too pleased with his son running around with a civilian.â
Maxâs expression hardened. âI donât care what he thinks. Iâm done with all of it. Weâre here because we need to end this.â
Victor studied him, his expression unreadable. âYouâre asking for a death wish, Max. Going after MarcoĂąâŹâgoing after your father, no lessĂąâŹâthatâs no small feat.â
âI know,â Max said, his voice steady. âBut I canât keep running, Victor. They wonât stop coming after us unless we make it impossible for them to do so.â
Victorâs gaze softened slightly, and he nodded. âAll right. If youâre sure about this, Iâll help. But you need a solid plan, one thatâll keep you two alive.â
Y/N stepped forward, determination in her eyes. âWeâre ready to fight. Just tell us what we need to do.â
With Victorâs help, Max and Y/N began to formulate a plan. They would lure Marco into a trap, using a location that could be easily controlled. The plan was risky, but it was their best chance of catching him off-guard.
Victor explained that there was an old factory on the outskirts of the cityâone that had been abandoned for years and was seldom monitored. It was isolated enough that Marco wouldnât suspect an ambush, but contained enough that they could limit his escape routes.
They would spread false information, leading Marco to believe that Max and Y/N were hiding out there, vulnerable and unprotected. When Marco showed up with his men, theyâd be ready for him.
Max was acutely aware of the danger they were putting themselves in, but he was resolute. He looked over at Y/N, who nodded, her expression fierce. She was just as committed to this as he was.
Victor took out a map, marking down escape routes, vantage points, and ambush spots. âThis is going to take perfect timing. If Marco suspects anything, heâs going to lose it. He's like a rabid dog with a bone you have to make it believable.Â
âOh itâll be believable alrightâ Max says and the two exchange an handshake.Â
As night fell, Max, Y/N, and Victor moved into the abandoned factory. The air was thick with dust, and the metal beams overhead groaned with age. Victor led them to the second floor, a vantage point that would give them a clear view of the ground level where Marcoâs men would likely enter. They positioned themselves near the shadows, hidden but ready.
Max and Y/N exchanged a tense look. This wasnât just about surviving the night; it was about putting an end to Marcoâs threat for good. But they both knew that once the trap was set, there would be no turning back.
Victor knelt beside them, going over the plan one last time. âIâll handle the detonators for the traps we set by the entrances. It should keep most of his men occupied, but Marco will be harder to take down. Heâll be looking for you, Max.â
Max nodded. âWe just need to make sure he doesnât walk out of here. This ends tonight.â
Y/N placed a hand on Maxâs arm, her eyes soft but determined. âWeâre ready. Whatever happens, we do this together.â
Max gave her a small smile, his gaze steady. âTogether.â
It didnât take long for the sound of approaching vehicles to echo through the empty factory. Max felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the headlights piercing through the darkness outside. Marco had brought more men than theyâd anticipated, but it was too late to change the plan. He and Y/N exchanged a tense look as they heard the doors slam and the muffled voices of Marcoâs men.
Victor caught Maxâs eye and nodded, signaling that he was ready. He held the detonator for the traps they had rigged by the entrances, ready to trigger them as soon as Marcoâs men entered.
From their vantage point, Max and Y/N watched as Marco strode in, his expression steely and focused. He was flanked by several armed men, their gazes scanning the factoryâs dim interior.
âSpread out,â Marco ordered, his voice cold. âTheyâre here somewhere. I want them alive.â
Max held his breath as Victor pressed the first detonator. A loud explosion rocked the factory, and smoke filled the air. Marcoâs men were thrown off balance, some of them stumbling backward as the entrance filled with dust and debris.
Using the distraction, Max and Y/N moved silently down a side staircase, making their way closer to the ground level where Marco was recovering from the blast.
Marcoâs voice cut through the chaos. âYou think you can take me down, Max?â he shouted, his tone mocking. âYouâre just as foolish as your mother. Youâre weak.â
Max clenched his jaw, the mention of his mother igniting a fury heâd kept buried. He stepped out from the shadows, his gaze locked on Marco.
âNo, Marco,â Max said, his voice steady. âIâm nothing like you. And Iâm ending this.â
Marco laughed, a cold, twisted sound. âGo ahead, Max. Letâs see if you have what it takes.â
Marco raised his gun, but before he could fire, Y/N moved in from the side, aiming and pulling the trigger. The shot hit one of Marcoâs men square in the chest, sending him sprawling. Max took advantage of the moment, lunging forward and tackling Marco to the ground.
They grappled fiercely, years of anger and resentment pouring out in each punch. Marco fought back with a strength that took Max by surprise, but Maxâs resolve was unbreakable. He was fighting not only for himself, but for Y/N and the life he wanted to build with her.
Victor took down another one of Marcoâs men, shouting to Max and Y/N to fall back as more reinforcements arrived. But Max refused to let go of Marco, his hands clenched tightly around his collar.
Marcoâs gaze held a glint of something unsettlingâa confidence that sent a chill through Max. âYou really think you can escape your fatherâs shadow? That you can just walk away from this life?â
Maxâs grip tightened. âWatch me.â
Just as Marco started to pull away, Victor tossed Max a knife, and with one swift motion, Max drove it into Marcoâs side. Marcoâs eyes widened in shock, the fight draining from him as he fell back against the floor, his breathing ragged.
âYou could have been great, Max,â he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. âYou were always meant for this.â
Max knelt beside him, his expression hardened. âIâll be great, Marco. Just not in the way you or father wanted.â
Marcoâs gaze dimmed as he breathed his last, his reign of terror finally ending. Victor, catching his breath, nodded to Max and Y/N, signaling that it was time to go before any more of Josâs men arrived.
As they ran through the factory, the weight of what they had just done hit them. They had defeated Marco, but Max knew that his father would come looking for them eventually. This fight wasnât overânot entirely. But for the first time, he felt hope.
Max and Y/N drove through the night, the reality of their escape sinking in as the city faded in their rearview mirror. They didnât know what the future held or where they would go, but they knew they were finally free.
As dawn broke over the horizon, Y/N reached for Maxâs hand, her fingers lacing through his. âWe did it,â she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief and relief.
Max squeezed her hand, a faint smile crossing his face. âYeah, we did.â
With Marco gone, they had a chanceâa real chanceâto live the life they wanted. And though Josâ shadow still loomed, Max was prepared to face whatever came next, as long as he had Y/N by his side.
For now, they would drive until they reached a place where no one knew their names, where they could start fresh. Together, they would forge a new path, one free from the violence and darkness of Maxâs past.
The road stretched out before them, endless and full of possibility. And for the first time, Max felt at peace, knowing that he had finally broken free.
Max and Y/N eventually found themselves in a quiet coastal town, a place with winding streets and charming old buildings nestled near the sea. It was far enough from the city and all the memories that came with it. They rented a small, modest apartment overlooking the water, where they hoped they could finally start fresh.
The first few weeks were quiet, filled with long walks on the beach, lazy mornings over coffee, and late nights spent talking about dreams and regrets. It was a life Max had never thought possible, a life he didnât know he could have. For once, they felt safe, wrapped in the peace of anonymity.
But the shadows of Maxâs past werenât so easily left behind. The tension, the feeling of being watchedâit crept back slowly, chipping away at the calm theyâd built.
One night, as they were walking back from a small restaurant by the shore, Max noticed a familiar black car parked just down the street. His stomach knotted. He hadnât seen that car in years, but he knew itâone of his fatherâs old vehicles.
Y/N noticed his change in demeanor. âMax? Is everything okay?â
Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. âLetâs get back to the apartment.â
They made it back to the apartment, locking every door and window. Max peered outside, watching the car until it finally disappeared down the road. Y/N was by his side, her hand resting on his shoulder, grounding him in the present.
âDo you think itâs your father?â Y/N asked quietly.
Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair. âI donât know. But if heâs found us here, weâre not safe.â
Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a number he didnât recognize, but something told him to answer. He took a deep breath, lifting the phone to his ear. âHello?â
A familiar voice spoke, low and menacing. âMax. You didnât really think you could run forever, did you?â
It was Jos.
Max felt a chill run through him. His fatherâs voice was calm, calculating, as if this were just another business call.
âWhat do you want?â Max asked, his voice tense.
Jos chuckled softly. âWhat Iâve always wanted, son. I want you to come back. Iâll forget your disloyalty, if you return now. But this womanâsheâs distracting you. Sheâs a weakness.â
Maxâs grip on the phone tightened. âIâm not coming back, and Y/N is none of your concern.â
Jos sighed, his tone turning cold. âYouâre making a mistake, Max. Youâre my blood. And blood never betrays family. But if you insist on keeping her, you know what happens to liabilities.â
With that, the line went dead.
Max lowered the phone, his heart pounding. He looked at Y/N, who watched him anxiously. âIt was my father. he knows weâre here. And heâs not going to stop.â
Max and Y/N knew they had to leave the town immediately. But this time, they couldnât just run blindly. They needed a plan, something that would allow them to disappear for good. Max realized they would need help to outsmart his fatherâa network, a way to stay hidden and off the grid.
That night, they packed their bags, taking only the essentials. Max reached out to Victor, sending him a coded message asking for help. They arranged to meet in a secluded spot, a few miles away, where Victor would bring supplies and information.
Before they left, Y/N placed a hand on Maxâs arm, her voice soft but strong. âNo matter what happens, Iâm with you. Weâll get through this.â
Max pulled her into an embrace, his voice steady but filled with determination. âIâll keep you safe. No matter what.â
They drove through the night, finally arriving at a remote gas station where Victor was waiting. He stood near his car, a heavy duffel bag by his feet, watching the road with caution.
Max and Y/N got out of the car, approaching him. Victor gave them a nod. âLooks like you two could use some suppliesâand a new plan.â
Max ran a hand through his hair, exhausted but grateful. âYou have no idea. My father heâs found us. Heâs not going to let us go so easily.â
Victor handed Max the duffel bag, filled with burner phones, fake IDs, cash, and a list of contacts who could help them along the way. âThis should buy you some time. But you need to move fast.â
Y/N thanked Victor, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. âYouâre risking a lot to help us. We wonât forget this.â
Victor gave her a small smile. âMax was there for me when I needed it. Just consider this payback.â
Before they left, Victor placed a hand on Maxâs shoulder. âOne more thing âyou need to think about how far youâre willing to go. Jos isnât going to stop. You might have to consider taking him out.â
Maxâs expression darkened. He had known, deep down, that his father would never let him go. But hearing it out loud made it real.
âI understand,â he said quietly. âThank you, Victor.â
Victor nodded, watching as Max and Y/N got back into their car, their new identities hidden in the duffel bag. As they drove off, Max couldnât shake Victorâs words. The idea of facing his father felt impossible, but he knew that eventually, theyâd have no other choice.
For weeks, Max and Y/N kept moving, using new names in each town, keeping to small motels and out-of-the-way diners. They became adept at disappearing, slipping into the background of each new place. But as careful as they were, Josâ men kept finding them, each encounter a reminder that they were never truly safe.
Finally, they received a message from Victor. âHeâs coming for you himself, Max. Itâs time to end this.â
Max looked at Y/N, his heart heavy but resolved. âItâs him or us. I canât keep running from him. Weâll make our stand here.â
Y/N placed her hand over his, her eyes fierce. âThen letâs end this together.â
In a darkened alleyway that night, Max and Y/N waited. They heard the footsteps, the unmistakable sound of Josâ voice. This was the final confrontation the moment when Max would either free himself or be bound to his past forever.
As Jos appeared, flanked by his men, Max stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. âItâs over, Dad. You canât control me anymore.â
Josâ expression was a mix of anger and something almost like disappointment. âYou were always my successor, Max. But you betrayed me. And for what? A woman?â
Max shook his head. âFor freedom. For love. For a life that you never gave me.â
In a swift movement, the fight began. Max and Y/N fought with everything they had, each strike a testament to their will to survive. And as dawn broke, they stood victorious, finally free from Josâ grip.
In the end, Max and Y/N left the city, driving toward a new horizon. They had endured more than most could imagine, but they had come out of it stronger, bound by trust and love.
As they drove into the distance, Y/N leaned over, resting her head on Maxâs shoulder. âItâs finally over.â
Max took her hand, a quiet smile crossing his face. âYeah. Weâre finally free.â
They didnât know what the future held, but they knew one thing: they would face it together, no longer haunted by the past.
One year laterÂ
In a small, sunny coastal town far from the chaos of their past, Max and Y/N settled into a new life together. Theyâd both embraced the quiet simplicity of itĂąâŹâthe kind of life neither of them thought theyâd ever have.
Max and Y/N married in a small, private ceremony, just a handful of close friends gathered to celebrate. There were no grand gestures, no lavish displaysâjust the two of them, standing hand in hand, promising to share a life of peace and devotion. For Max, it was the ultimate vow of freedom, a declaration that he was no longer bound by his familyâs legacy.
Over time, they built their own family. They had two children, a boy and a girl, who became the center of their world. Max was a devoted father, often surprising Y/N with how patient and tender he was with their children. Watching him with them, she knew heâd truly left his past behind, pouring his energy into being the father heâd never had.
To make a living, Max chose a career that allowed him to use his skills for good. He became a mechanic, running a small garage where he fixed cars and occasionally helped neighbors with any odd jobs. He found he enjoyed the workâit was honest, straightforward, and gave him a sense of satisfaction heâd never known before.
Max had always been good with his hands, and he took pride in running his business ethically, treating each customer with respect. In a way, his garage became a place where people came not only to fix their cars but to catch up with him and Y/N, who would often stop by with their kids. Their life was simple, grounded, and filled with small joys.
There were still moments when the shadows of their past would resurfaceâan unexpected noise, a strangerâs lingering look. But Max and Y/N had learned to hold each other close during those times, grounding each other with gentle reminders of the life theyâd built.
Their children grew up knowing nothing of the dangers their parents had faced. Max and Y/N wanted it that way; they wanted their kids to live without fear, surrounded by love and stability. They spent weekends by the shore, watching their children play in the sand, building castles and laughing freely.
In the quiet of those moments, Max would look at Y/N and feel a deep gratitude for the life theyâd created together. It was a life free from the violence and tension that had once defined him, and he knew he had her to thank for giving him the courage to embrace it.
As the years passed, Max and Y/N continued to build their lives in the small town, becoming a beloved part of the community. They hosted neighborhood gatherings, watched their children grow, and celebrated every milestone, no matter how small.
For Max, this life wasnât just a new beginningâit was redemption. Heâd found a purpose beyond survival, a love that had healed his old wounds. And in the warmth of his family, he had finally found peace.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x you#f1 x y/n#formula one x oc#formula one x y/n#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen angst#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen au#mv1#mv33#mv33 x reader#mv33 fic#mv33 imagine#mv33 x you#mv33 fluff#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x you
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
They were probably talking about people not being able to afford heating or having a decent place to live. Like, I know everyone - but the people who actually lived through it/had talked with their grandmas and grandpas about their childhood and youth - believes USSR was some kind of paradise, ditto with communist China. Nobody talks about slavery, about not having enough food to eat - and I am not talking about the famous famines/Holodomor even, just the scarcity of food, unless you are in the party elite - about how people were forced to live in barracks (not like military type barracks, but the cheap flimsy dirty cold type of communal housing with no central heating, no water, not even an indoor toilet)
"oh but USSR gave people free flats" unless you are talking about flats former owners of which, say, Jews, other minorities and types of enemies of the people, were arrested and shot or imprisoned in slavery labor camp prisons (to escape which people even resorted to cannibalism at times... This remark is directly to people who compare USSR prison system to the US one and even find the US one more harsh. How to put it? Prisons in most countries formerly occupied by Soviets are way better than back then, and excluding some more EU oriented countries, the inmates are pretty jealous of the US' prisons conditions, let's put it this way) - so their flats were freed up and up to grabs.
And sure, some people would get those flats, but not everyone.
This is called socrealism not because it realistically and truthfully depicts what's going on: a woman from lower class with a lot of children gets to have amazing luxurious flat, leisure and conditions to grow houseplants, raise a cat, buy a deficit radio or bike - all thanks to Stalin. That wasn't the reality of most of USSR citizen, especially working/farming class (which her hairstyle suggest she's from). That's a carrot they hanged before your nose.
The reality was, even if you got an apartment built by the government, this could have taken years. My family, for example, worked for thirty years before getting a 2 bedroom for six people. And my gran was what they called then, an invalid of childhood (meaning, she got a work-impairing disability from the childhood, thus she was supposed to get more social help from the government. Yeah, right). She didn't have a light job either. She was working full time. My dad, on the other hand, was doing one of the most difficult and health threatening jobs ever.
But hey, you will say, it's still a free flat! I'm in the goddamn capitalist corporate hell America, and I am paying thousands of American dollars to rent!
I feel you, Buddy, I don't have a home of my own either. With the war, I never will - I am pretty sure I will die faster than I can save for a downpayment.
But free flats weren't really free. You were still paying for them, with your labour being the least of it, bc your labour was underpaid. Like, you guys have 401K or something, right? Well, imagine you from now on have to get a pay cut, with your employer keeping most value of what you created, to themselves, and using some of it for a housing fund, where you may or may not get a flat for your grandchildren somewhere down the line. If you don't die earlier or become an enemy of the state or just being not very liked or socially adept person. "Capitalists still do that! We work, they enrich themselves! And now I can't afford to buy a flat!" so yeah, you're basically saying that there's no difference between capitalism and communism, you're still exploited in communism. You get that, right?
So yeah, you would have to pee a lot because you don't have money for charcoal or access to the market - and will be thrown into jail and or short for buying it on the black market - under maoism. And you would have to live in flimsy housing with lotsa spiders because you have to work dozens of years to build a whole apartment building by the cost of your labour, before you get even one room there.
(and that's if you don't piss someone who is sitting on the apartment distribution channel, because oh well. No housing for you, comrade)
I'm glad you two at least did not make fun of settler colonialism.
to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you
9K notes
·
View notes
Note
Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it
hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not
everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.
âïž gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.
âïž behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.
âïž lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!
and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.
he did die tho, so. whomp whomp đș... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...
and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.
actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.
the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.
the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.
the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.
this au is so sad but i love it so much...
okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
indebted
dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.
summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.
a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends đ€ and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!
Iâll be the first person to admit now that what Iâve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my fatherâs stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely wonât get the chance to relish in it because Iâm going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and Iâll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, itâs not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.
Itâs utterly and completely my fault.
Sneaking out wasnât meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.
It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All Iâd ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA.Â
He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once Iâd persuaded enough people with ration cards, theyâd shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smugglerâs route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed.Â
Iâd been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my fatherâs. I couldnât quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but Iâd be damned if I stopped trying.
However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, Iâd thought. What a waste.
I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. âWhatâs some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?â a dark voice rattles into my ear.
I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when youâve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?
âYou smell good⊠real goodâŠâ The creepâs voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and Iâm sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. Heâs smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and heâs one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. Iâm ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.
âYou can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I donât want any trouble,â I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isnât how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way heâs now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks.Â
A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasnât so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. âWe both know I donât give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I donât want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think youâd have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,â he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice.Â
My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I canât turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.
âNow, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but weâd hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldnât we?â He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.
âO-okay, okay,â I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasnât. âJust donât hurt me⊠pleaseâŠâ I whimper.
He lets out a long, ragged sigh. âAfraid I canât promise that.âÂ
Iâve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything heâs about to do next, finally accepting that there isnât any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him.Â
Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the manâs hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. Heâs all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.
âYâalright?â he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.
âPut that thing down,â he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. Iâm likely the most miserable looking thing heâs seen in a while, Iâm sure. âYouâre harmless.â
âH-how do I know youâre not with him?â I blurt out.
My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. âThat guy?â he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. âThink Iâd be puttinâ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?â
My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that strangerâs mind had been conjuring up.
âY-yeah, you have a point,â I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room.Â
âPoor fucker died with a hard on, didnât he?â The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. âNow, are you usually this stupid, cominâ into hunter territory, or what?â he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.
âI didnât knowâŠâ I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesnât snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that heâs already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing heâd wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that heâs proving all the things Iâd been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. Iâm weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.
âDidnât know, huh? So just clueless, then?â the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. âIâm Joel,â he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.
I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. Iâm up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I donât know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, âThank you.â
Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. âDonât thank me yet,â he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. âWe should move.â
I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. âCâmon, I donât bite,â he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. âNeed you close by. Anâ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldnât.â
My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind.Â
âIâve got a safehouse not too far from here.â
âA safehouse?â
âItâs already gettinâ dark. There ainât no way weâre making it back to the QZ today, princess,â he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.
âHowâd you know?â I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.
He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that Iâd unknowingly encroached on. âYouâre a FEDRA princess if Iâve ever seen one,â he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. Iâd seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than Iâd given him credit for.Â
I chew at my lip. âFair enough,â I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joelâs hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where heâs going, a practiced route heâs taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.
âAre you a smuggler?â I ask pointedly. âIâve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.â
Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. âLook whoâs readinâ who now,â he says with a dry chuckle. âAinât gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?â
I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. âI can keep a secret.â In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.
His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. âJust through here,â he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. Itâs a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. Itâs my favorite thing about all the exploration Iâve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own.Â
The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joelâs hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that Iâm thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.
âUp,â he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs.Â
My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I canât shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. Itâs quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.
âHome sweet home,â he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. Itâs a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if itâs left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.
âKnow it ainât the palace youâre probably used to, but weâll be safe anâ dry here,â he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, heâs clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My fatherâs house is spacious, sure, but itâs just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.
He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. Iâm still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.
âHungry?â he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. Iâd lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldnât seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. âYour funeral,â he says, chewing.
Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. âWell, you gonna sit your ass on down anâ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell youâre wanderinâ around like itâs a free for all out there?â
I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than Iâd expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.
I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer.Â
âI was⊠exploring,â I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?
His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. âExplorinââŠâ He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. âYouâre tellinâ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today âcause she was explorinâ? You really are stupid. âCourse you are, look how young yâare. Look how fuckinâ... sheltered.â Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. âCanât even blame ya.â
I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. âLook, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. Iâm sorry if I messed up whatever⊠smuggling stuff you had going on today, but Iâd appreciate it if you didnât call me⊠stupid.â The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My fatherâs voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.
Joel sucks at his teeth. âHit a nerve, I see,â he says passively. âAlright, Iâm sorry kiddo. I just mean, youâre puttinâ yourself at risk doinâ what youâre doinâ, and it ainât a smart idea. Yeah?â
âYeah,â I sigh out, relaxing a little. âI just needed to get away.â
âFrom your dear old daddy?â he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. âAh, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Couldâve guessed that one.â
âI donât have -â
âSweetheartâŠâ Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience.Â
âTake a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ainât the place to find what youâre lookinâ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off youâll be.âÂ
Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. Iâm tired of people dictating what I can and canât do, what Iâm capable of. âPeople do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,â I retort. âIâve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.â
âBad luck? Really? Youâd be that manâs newest little cock sleeve if it werenât for me savinâ your ass,â Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadnât happened to be in the right place at the right time.
âI - I know - Iâm sorry,â I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. âThank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.â
âLike I said, donât thank me yet.â He steps over so that heâs in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. âThink I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didnât think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?â
Iâm like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. âJoelâŠâ I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.
âI canât say the thought ainât crossinâ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big olâ gigantic favor, for savinâ your backside.â He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now Iâm certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it.Â
âYou know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookinâ for outside those walls. Maybe thatâs what you needed, is it? Couldnât find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.â
My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse?Â
âPlease -â I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. Iâd think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.
âTime to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to olâ daddy Joel,â he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. âPromise Iâll be much better than he wouldâve been earlier. People say Iâm⊠a generous lover.â His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.
He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand.Â
The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time Iâm ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, Iâve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my fatherâs friends, a name I canât even remember now. The first penis Iâm ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. Itâs thicker than Iâd imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. Itâs magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what Iâd expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling Iâm about to find out in the crudest of ways.
The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joelâs large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down.Â
âDonât cry now, honey, itâll only make him harder.â He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. âNice ân wide for this big boy, there we go,â he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it.Â
He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. Iâd have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joelâs old sweat, but itâs not completely bad, not what Iâd have expected. Itâs heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth.Â
The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I canât. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joelâs massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth.Â
âOpen up, relax your goddamn throat,â Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but Iâm met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power.Â
âGonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderinâ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.â He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so.Â
Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while Iâm just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure.Â
âThatâs it, thatâs right, youâre turninâ into quite the good girl,â Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I canât tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that itâs something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldnât. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my bodyâs response to him hitting the back of my throat, I donât know.
Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. âKnew youâd have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,â he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock.Â
My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I donât want to see the aftermath if it ends up that itâs one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this manâs dick?Â
âJesus fuck. Lord have fuckinâ mercyâŠâ Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. âSwallowinâ him down, arenât ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.â I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way heâd been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in.Â
Heâs relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest.Â
As soon as the pressure of Joelâs body lifts off of me, Iâm scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness Iâve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.
âDoes it look like youâre done showinâ your gratitude yet?â he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.
âYou do make a pretty cocksleeve, yâknow. Suckinâ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.â
I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. âPlease⊠donât. You donât have to do thisâŠâ
Joel scoffs. âIf I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldnât find you wet right now.â He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. âDonât lie tâme after Iâve been so, so generous tâyou today.â
Iâm spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joelâs strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joelâs deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.
âThought so,â he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. âNothinâ to be upset about, weâre just havinâ a little fun, payinâ off your debt to dear olâ Joel, okay?â
I shake my head. âI - I shouldn't be here⊠it shouldnât be like this,â I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them.Â
Joelâs fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. Iâm surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. âWhat shouldnât be like this, hm? That you shouldnât like my cock down your throat? Itâs perfectly natural, doll,â he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.
âA-all of this,â I whimper, âPlease, j-just let me go. I w-wonât say anything, I wonât do anything. I justâŠâ
Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest.Â
âItâs okay, itâs okay that it feels good. Itâs âsposed to. Good little sluts like you donât know any better, donât care what it is thatâs gettinâ their panties wet. Desperate,â he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess thatâs now drooling onto the cotton. âJust relax, let it happenâŠâ I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan Iâd been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.
He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joelâs hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe heâs seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.
âPlease, I gave you what you want already,â I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. Theyâre my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, theyâd belong to Joel.
Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. âOh, youâre jusânot getting it, are you? You feel this?â he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. âThis means you didnât give me nearly half of what I want yet. Heâs still achinâ for ya, princess.âÂ
I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way heâs using who I am to mock me. Itâs a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasnât a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.
âPlease!â I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. âI-Iâm a virgin,â I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like itâs his next meal, like he owns it.Â
âWell ainât it my lucky day. Shit, thatâs why you were sputterinâ all over my damn cock, ainât it?â he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that Iâm even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, âHey, hey, nothinâ to be ashamed for. In factâŠâ His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. âMakes me awful excited,â he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.
I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks Iâm a cheap whore, and he loves it. Iâm a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.
He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. âThe hell were you savinâ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?â At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. âAnswer me!â he barks out.
âI - I wasnât! I donât know!â I cry out, trembling.
âWell,â he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. âMâhonored youâd let me be your first, sweetheart,â he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. Iâm not letting him do anything.Â
I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. Iâm practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.
âGonna make me do things the hard way, are you?â He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close. His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. âBeen too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. Anâ ruininâ this perfect, pure little cunt is jusâ the cherry on top of a perfect day fâme.âÂ
I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of whatâs to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joelâs body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle heâd twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until Iâm crying unrelenting, fat tears.
With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but Iâm precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that Iâve never known before.Â
I donât have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. âPromise youâre gonna like this, that youâll never be able to think of anyone elseâs cock but daddy Joelâs,â he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if Iâm being split open for good, if itâs possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body.Â
âFuuuuuuck,â Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure heâs buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. âYou were not kiddinâ, sweetheart. Tightest fuckinâ pussy Iâve ever been in.â
I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know Iâm part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things heâs saying, the way heâs taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. âChrist, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedinâ on daddyâs cock.â
The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. âPlease,â I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. Iâm like a ragdoll with the way heâs jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.
âYou want more? You begginâ already?â Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something.Â
âOh, thatâs it. We got her now, donât we?â he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. âYou ever come before, sweetheart?â He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.
I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I donât want him to take this from me, I donât want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way heâs surely bruising my insides.Â
âIf you ainât figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when Iâm askinâ you a question if you know whatâs good for ya,â he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.
âUse your words. Say âno, daddyâ,â he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.
âN-no⊠daddyâŠâ I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.
He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. âOh, thatâs a shame. Thatâs a daaaamn shame. All pent up, yâare. But daddy will make it all better.â He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that Iâm thankful to him for what heâs doing to me. I canât answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that itâs probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.
I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didnât even know were there. Thatâs why. Iâm incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.
I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.
âLet me hear you, princess. Daddy doesnât do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampinâ down on my cock, know youâre lovinâ how I use you up like you were meant for it.â
I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of thatâs it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth.Â
I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joelâs cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.
Joelâs grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. Itâs unlike anything Iâve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures Iâve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling⊠the reason heâs doing what he is to me right now? Â
It feels like itâs never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises Iâm making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.
âFuck, fuck - thatâs it - f-fuck knew youâd love it. Come on my cock, baby, thatâs right.â Joelâs string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way heâd assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not.Â
âS-so fuckinâ tight, lettinâ me take your virginity like a good little whore,â he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like itâs saving his soul, like itâs the only thing he could ever care about. Iâm on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure.Â
âGonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckinâ load drippinâ out of you again. I-Iâm close, fuck -â Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me.Â
Itâs all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joelâs hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I canât give him the satisfaction. I canât.
Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way Iâd noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.
When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans heâd been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual heâs acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didnât just force himself on me.Â
I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he canât see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul.Â
He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. âEat. I ainât havinâ you all weak and despondent for the next time.â
I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldnât have said what I think he did. I - Iâd paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didnât even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.
âN-next timeâŠ?â I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesnât sound like my own.
âKnow you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, anâ sweetheartâŠâ He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. âMy stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That Iâd get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for mâself, and throw it all away?â Heâs creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever heâs thinking of doing next. âNow you donât think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowinâ all that, do you?â
I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. âN-no. NoâŠâ I whisper.Â
Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified.Â
Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man Iâd trusted once, whoâd shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like Iâm a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.
âNow,â he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. âAll Iâve got to do is decide just how long Iâll keep ya for.â
dividers by @/saradika-graphics!
#fic: indebted#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#dddne joel miller#dead dove joel miller
342 notes
·
View notes
Note
Dpxdc: Danny x Supergirl. Kara and Danny are pining hard for each other. They both want someone stronger than them and believe it's the other but not themselves.
âWhoâs the lucky girl?â Jazz teased, gesturing to Dannyâs grand and elaborate present of colorful roses, strange alien flowers, and at least a few other plants from space.
âJazz, sheâs the absolute best! Sheâs so strong and she knows so much about space and she can cut me in half andââ Danny gushed.
Jazz interrupted, âAre those Kryptonian carnations?â
Danny cleared his throat and nodded. âYeah, I asked Clockwork if I could go back in time and pick some flowers.â
Jazz raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. âWow. Wait until Sam and Tucker hear about this, youâre never going to hear the end of it. Does she like you back?â
Danny blushed. âI donât know. Thatâs why I want to give her these flowers and see.â
Jazz cooed, âAww! Well, it canât go too badly, right? Iâm sure sheâll like it!â
âNone of you get ittttt,â Danny whined. âSheâs so perfect! Sheâs strong and brave and lovely and fast and sheâs so cool! Sheâs absolutely amazing, how am I going to even compare to such a perfect being?!â
âKryptonian carnations and power enough to make you impressed? Donât tell me⊠are you crushing on Supergirl?â Jazz gasped. âOh! Daniâs going to be so happy! She always wanted her as a sister-in-law, but I guess she can have her as a sister-in-law this way too.â
Danny looked at Jazz with a blush. âW-Who said Iâm marrying her?! I didnât even ask her out yet!â
âPuh-lease,â Jazz said, rolling her eyes. âClockwork almost never lets us go to the past to do anything but fix something. If heâs letting you take flowers from Krypton, he probably has a plan, and youâre most definitely going to be able to ask her out. Câmon, Danny, confidence! Go and ask Supergirl out!â
She then moved to push him out the door. âI heard there was a robbery just half an hour ago! Maybe sheâs still out there! Go, go, go!â
Danny quickly transformed and flew off with a quick, âThanks!â before disappearing to find Supergirl with the bouquet of flowers in his hands.
Jazz shook her head as she watched him go. A sticky note appeared in her hands and she looked down before giving a snort.
âWedding date is in 2 years, 10 months, and 21 days. Prepare well. â Clockworkâ
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#danny fenton#zone sickness ship#danny x kara#kara danvers#ty for the ask!#jazz fenton#slight mention of two nickels ship#dp clockwork
253 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sebastian was so happy that William was now here too. He got a kiss, then William sat down next to him, held his hand. He told him right away about all the things he did before coming here and the reason why he was late. Sebastian understood of course â the fact that William even came to visit today despite being busy himself was already more than enough.
âThank you so much, love. Surely by the time Iâm back home Snowflake will love you just as muchâ, he grinned, âAnd please, donât worry about any stupid speeding tickets, reallyâ, that was so not important right now anyway. Sebastian was was more curious about what their friends said, because clearly it was them that William spoke to today. Grandma Lillian listened attentively as well â so far she could already tell William was a very pleasant, friendly and endeavored young man and she could tell he cared for Sebastian a lot.
âIâmâŠfine I guessâ, Sebastian answered Williamâs question first, âI mean, honestly? Dr Cole said during her ward round in the morning that everything looks fine. ButâŠstill, all feels sore and uncomfortable, I guess thatâs normal but itâs annoying. Iâm still on that pain meds IV of course but they donât want to give me too much too often, so the wound generally just hurts all day. I canât leave the bed, I canât eat solid food, itâs reallyâŠokay. Not more and not lessâ, he sighed, kind of defeated and yet he still showed William a smile, âButâŠI donât want to complain too much. I feel way better now that you are hereâ.
Well, Sebastian never cared if he was particularly cheesy in front of others â it wasnât like his grandma didnât know him. She found it amusing and also quite endearing.
âBut now tell me. You told the others, right? WhatâŠwhat did they say? AndâŠhow was your day anyway? Tell me everythingâ.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.Â
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principalâs voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.Â
âAnd lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that Iâve been concerned we wonât be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.â the principal spoke. âBut Mr⊠Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes⊠about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?âÂ
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
âFather William! Excellent!â the principal exclaimed. âJust donât be late, the train arrives at noon.â
âTrainâŠ?â William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing somethingâŠ
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didnât refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.Â
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
Catalyst
so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.
swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the shipâshe doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.
what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.
anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).
meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.
it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.
they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close oneâcould you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."
anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.
326 notes
·
View notes
Text
Needy Lucifer x Reader - Morning Routine (NSFW)
Waking up next to Lucifer every morning was nothing short of a dream come true
More often than not, heâd be up before you, waiting for you to open your eyes and greet you with a gentle smile
It wasnât long after that he would hop out of bed and offer to make you breakfast just so he could bring it to you in bed
But one particular morning, you woke up to something a little different
You forced your eyes open, the harsh light of hell shining through the window of your room
But when your eyes finally adjusted, you didnât see Lucifer smiling like he always does
Instead, you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead pressed into your back and his breath quiet and shallow
Luciferâs bucked into your body continuously, tiny little whimpers escaping his throat despite his best efforts to keep quiet
The poor angel was humping into your body like his life depended on it!
And God, the feeling of his hard cock pressed up against you could have driven you to the brink
It was very rare to see your king this needy so early in the morning; you decided to take advantage of the situation
âLucifer? What are you doing?~â
âH-Honey! Shit, I-Iâm sorry, did I wake you up?â
âJust a little bit. But you didnât answer me, what are you doing?~â
âI-IâŠfuck, Iâm sorryâŠI donât know what came over meâŠI justâŠI need you, pleaseâŠâ
âWas last night not enough for you, Luci?~ Youâre being a little greedy now, donât you think?~â
âN-No! Last night was perfect! Youâre always perfect, love! I-I justâŠâ You teased him by wiggling your ass against the tent in his pants, causing him to whine and shudder at the unexpected friction
âI donât know, baby, do you think itâs becoming of a king to behave like this? Begging like a man whoâs never been touched?~â
âSweetie, p-please, Iâm sorry! I didnât mean toâŠI mean, Iâm notâŠâ
âLuci, I need to shower! You have to let me go.~â
Lucifer let out the most pathetic cry youâve ever heard from him; he was already too far gone and you loved everything about it
You felt his arms loosen around you as he pushed himself away from you reluctantly
You giggled to yourself as your hands found the hem of your panties and shoved them down until you could kick them off
You looked over your shoulder to see Luciferâs stare, his mouth hung agape
You flashed him a coy smile before reaching down and spreading apart your glistening pussy for him
âOh come on now, Luci, you know I would never leave you in the state youâre in! I was only teasing you.~â
âB-But I thoughtâŠâ
âI just needed you to let go for a moment, I couldnât give you access with the way you were wrapped around me!â
Luciferâs tail appeared suddenly, thrashing back and forth like a predator about to pounce
All he needed was your word
âGo ahead, itâs okay my little angel, I want you to fuck me like a good boy~â
Not even a second passed before Luciferâs briefs were removed and he resumed his previous position of being wrapped around you like a koala
But this time, his cock was fully sheathed inside of you leaking cunt with his tail wrapped impossibly tight around your thigh that you had held up for him
His thrusts were utterly desperate; the only things he could utter were weak âthank youâsâ and completely needy moans
You didnât fair any better as his cock was absolutely destroying you; unable to form any coherent sentence
If he was like this now, you wondered how he would respond to an invitation to join you for a shower after he was done filling you with his angelic cum~
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer smut#i wrote this in public i hope you appreciate that đ€Ł
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader
summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well
cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao
word count: 1800
an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl
you are so real for that anon
When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldnât dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldnât stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.
He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.
"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, Iâve been meaning to tell you this for a while."
Oh.
Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together â too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.
But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.
"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "Itâs supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since theyâre sending me across the continent."
"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"
"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadnât just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."
It was good to hear that youâd be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.
Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasnât one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldnât be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.
"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."
"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadnât expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I donât say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."
"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"
"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, Iâll say goodbye to everyone else."
So soon. Too soon. Heâd hoped you wouldnât leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.
Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldnât notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.
"Iâm not sure Iâll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, theyâve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, Iâll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs â Iâll bring something back for you all."
"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."
"Aw, donât worryâitâll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."
"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."
"I know, I know. Thatâs very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."
He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. Heâd never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that youâd leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.
"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."
"Oh," you blushed, "thatâs nice to hear."
Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.
A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didnât have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "Iâm alive, itâs boring, Iâll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.
Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.
With one exception.
At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadnât been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didnât express his opinion on the matter, didnât ask, didnât demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.
He was withering, quietly and alone.
Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasnât a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.
Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.
He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldnât suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you werenât there, and wouldnât be for another week.
At some point, however, someone noticed their leaderâs miserable mood.
"I canât quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But sheâll be back soon. And whatever sheâs doing, sheâll do it well. Sheâs tough."
"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."
"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, thatâs all itâs about."
Optimus had no response to that. He wasnât surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.
"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.
The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didnât care anymore, not in such an important moment.
He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.
"She sent photos, too! Look!"
Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimusâs helm close to her.
âWhoa,â she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.
Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.
Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didnât compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.
âShe sends her regards to everyone,â Miko went on, âOh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and canât wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!â
Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldnât inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didnât even realize existed. And he didnât mind one bit.
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! Itâs seriously appreciated.
You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. Iâve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldnât have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)
The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesnât look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so Iâm not sure what to make of that.
I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. Itâs great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, whereâs Kino while sheâs out at war then??? I imagine that Kinoâs father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.
Also, Rokrund! Itâs nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name weâre hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?
âVisions that she would speak of to few others.â I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say âAmbessaâs husbandâ because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe heâs deceased.
I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.
It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldnât use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. Iâm iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason canât use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasnât hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasnât guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasnât certain, then the magic had no need to save him.
More likely, Melâs magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesnât even know she has magic. Thereâs no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, itâd be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it wouldâve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she wouldâve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.
Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out whatâs going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. Sheâd want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. Sheâd tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didnât work as it was supposed to.
Unless thereâs a reason we havenât been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of âThereâs no sense to these things, Jayceâ in response to âHow does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratchâ sounds a bit like sheâs trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. Thereâs physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, âthereâs no senseâ might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?
Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. Heâd want to study her! And honestly sheâd probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows
Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't
S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.
The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.
No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.
But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.
1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?
2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's
Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?
She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.
Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?
Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:
But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.
#I did not intend my reply to be this long sorry#arcane speculation#arcane#mel medarda#ambessa medarda#mel and ambessa#jayce talis#viktor#viktor arcane#meljay#meljayvik#league of legends
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
hii love! i just read your clingy so u distance yourself fic for the bazillion time and i cried again no surpriseđ„č I just wanted to say i love your works so much and would live to request for an angst oneshot with brother bsf chan? basically reader has been pining for chan for a few years but she never got the courage to tell chan cause she thinks she isnât good enough for chan. Then afterwards basically chan got a girlfriend who hated her and basically influenced chan to stop hanging out with her which he listened to and told the reader which the reader told him that his girlfriend wasnât loyal but he thought she was sabotaging his relationship and so they ended off on bad terms but turns out a few weeks later he caught his girlfriend cheating and went back to the reader? sorry if it is kinda long but i rlly need a oneshot like this to read when i just need some angst i really live and admire your works so id be elated if you did my request. thank you and lots of loveâ€ïž
my first piece since I went on a mini little baby hiatus. and i had a lot of joy writing this. so i hope you enjoy <3!!!
Brothers Bsf Chan x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)
6.8k words
<<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>>
You didnât know when it started. Was it a simple touch? A brush of a hand or an accidental graze of fingers? Or was it one of those lazy Friday nights where Chan would crack jokes to you and his best friend- your older brother Jisung- while you three were watching movies in the house you grew up in. Or did it stem back all the way to those days where you would chase after Chan and Jisung on the playground, down your neighborhood streets- crying out for them to wait for you. Those cries stopped when Chan would reach his hand out to bring you along.
Maybe it was a combination of all of those things, those things you had tried so hard to forget because it could only lead to heartbreak. Falling in love with your brotherâs best friend was no easy feat for anyone. Let alone when you were falling for someone like Chan, who was so hard to fall out of love with. Maybe even more so for you since he would always be in your life. Him and Jisung were nearly joined at the hip, which made it even harder to hide your pining for him. You wouldnât dare love out loud, but it was starting to whisper through the cracks of your resolve.
You were unconditionally in love with everything about Chan.Â
That's how it was for years, and how you intended it to be for as long as allowed. You spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if he could ever see you the way that you saw him. You were sure things were only platonic between the two of you, but you couldnât help but linger on the memories of certain looks, certain gestures that you couldnât delude yourself into believing happened between friends.Â
Things started to change when Chan began dating someone new.Â
Duri. Her name was Duri, and the first time you met her, you knew she was the type to turn heads. She had a smile that could light up a room and a confidence you could only dream of. Standing next to her, you felt small, like a background character in Chanâs life story. A girl who captured Chanâs attention so easily. A girl who wrapped him up in her life so easily that you knew you were to be forgotten. He was smitten and her words flowed like the river of the smoothest molasses. She could easily convince Chan, he didnât need you. Because she didnât like you.
You werenât sure why, but it was obvious. And because she didnât like you, her feelings towards Jisung werenât all that different, it seemed. And slowly you felt like Chan was making his way out of your life.
âJi, why isnât Chris here?â You loved the way his name sounded when you said it. Not many people around you called him Chris, so it felt special to call him that. He seemed to enjoy it as well, not ever asking you to conform to societal norms.
âHeâs probably just busy, Y/N-ieâŠIâm sure heâll come back around.â Jisung said one day as you guys sat on the couch, scrolling through movies. It was the first Friday movie Chan had missed. And even if it was the first time he had missed it, you knew it would be a regular occurrence.
In all honesty, at first, you tried to like Duri. She was with Chan, after all, and you thought that maybe you could be friends. That maybe if you could convince yourself to like her then the pain of not being the one that Chan loved would ease.. But the more you saw her, the more you felt her sharp, indirect glances, the way she dismissed you with a smile that didnât quite reach her eyes. She made you feel invisible, as if you were only tolerated because you were Jisungâs sister. Even if she just barely tolerated the latter.
Over time, you saw the changes in Chan too. He became distant, no longer the easygoing guy whoâd spend hours with you and your brother. He was still polite, still kind, but he was pulling away, bit by bit. You told yourself it was just a phase, that heâd come around once things settled down with Duri.
But then, one night, things came to a head.
You, Jisung, and Chan had made plans to meet at your favorite cafĂ©âjust a casual hangout, like old times. But when Chan showed up with his girlfriend by his side, something was off. His smile was forced, his laughs hollow. He barely met your eyes, and when you spoke, and even then it was like he wasnât really listening. To the point that Jisung even pointed it out. Every time you spoke, Duri happened to speak at the same time. Every time a question was directed at you, Duri somehow changed the conversation. You felt small and insignificant and made your way home early. You couldnât stand to sit there and see the man you were so down bad for with his significant other. Duri had sat close to him, her hand always somewhere on his arm or shoulder, marking her territory in the subtlest way, in a way that caused an anger that wasnât so subtle.Â
But even then after leaving you couldnât shake the ache in your chest. You sat down on a bench outside of a convenience store by your home, trying to sort out your feelings.Â
You okay? Iâll be heading home soon. We went out to drink.Â
You quickly type out a reply to Jisung, your fingers shaking as you realized just how cold it was. Just as you were about to get up to leave a pale hand reached out to you with a warm drink.Â
You looked up to see a guy with dark and prominent eyebrows, and a little birthmark on his nose.Â
âYou seemed cold. ItsâŠâ He looked at the can. âMocha flavored.â He handed it back out to you and smiled softly.Â
âThank you.â You said with a small bow of your head, and you couldnât help but smile at the thoughtful gesture.Â
âYou live in the neighborhood right? Your brotherâŠlooks like a squirrel?â The manâs voice was soft and shy, like he thought he was talking too much.
âOh! Youâre our new neighbor? Iâm Han Y/N.â You said with a flourished bow.
âPark Sunghoon. Nice to meet youâŠâ He shuffled awkwardly. âWould you like me to wait before I walk homeâŠI don't want to make you uncomfortable.â
âNo! No! Itâs fine, I'm not uncomfortable. You can walk home with me.â You say quietly. âMaybe itâll be nice to not feel lonely.â
As you made your way back home with Sunghoon you had a weird feeling in your chest. You thought maybe you were just trying to sort your feelings, but it was more of an intuitive sense.Â
Then you got a text from your brother.
Iâm coming home. Duri tried to make a move on me and Iâm not trying to get into it with Chan while she is here.
You blinked at the text, nodding when your voice registered Sunghoon asking if you were okay.
That was that odd feelingâŠ
You didnât know if it was selfish to feel happy that Duri was a tool, but you did. You didnât want Chan to get hurt so you decided to go talk to him. Giving a message on behalf of Jisung, who thought maybe Chan would listen better if it was coming from a girl
âHey, can I talk to you?â you asked, your voice soft but determined, as you walked up to him outside of his job a few days later.
âYeah, of course,â he replied, looking a bit surprised. He followed you to a quieter part of the park, away from prying eyes. âIs everything okay? Jisung hasnât texted me in a couple of daysâŠ"
You took a breath, feeling the words tangle on the tip of your tongue. âChrisâŠI justâŠI feel like youâre not around as much anymore. I get that youâre with Duri, butâŠitâs like youâre pulling away from me and Jisung. My brother is too scared to say anything, but he feels just as bad, if not worse than I do.â
He frowned, looking down at the ground. âIâm sorry if it feels that way,â he said finally, but not much emotion in his voice. âButâŠI need to be there for Duri. Sheâs⊠she doesnât feel comfortable with me hanging out so much with, you knowâŠâ He trailed off, not meeting your eyes.
Your heart sank, a cold dread washing over you. âWith me, you mean?â
He hesitated, but the silence was all the confirmation you needed. âSheâŠdoesnât get why Iâm so close with you. And I donât want her to feel insecure, so IâŠI think itâs best if we⊠keep some distance. Just for now.â
You stared at him, feeling a surge of hurt and anger. âChris, sheâs manipulating you!â you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. âSheâs making you feel guilty for caring about people who were here long before she was. Because she knows those people will pinpoint, that sheâs a manipulative cheater!â
He looked at you, a flash of anger in his eyes at the words. âYou donât know her like I do,â he snapped.
You flinched at the venom in his voice. He had never snapped at you and you could feel tears spring to your eyes.
âShe tried to make a move on JiâŠâ You said quietly. âAnd donât try and say my brother is a liar, Chris, because you know heâs not.â
Chan gave a sarcastic chuckle. âShe already told me that Y/N. She was drunk. It was nothing more than that.â
âDrunk actions are sober thought Chris!â You shot back.
âOh, so the first time you ever got drunk and confessed your feelings for me was a sober thought?â
You felt your body freeze and you blinked at Chan with wide eyes. You blacked out the first time you had ever drank and didnât touch anything since. You never knew you had admitted to liking Chan.
âSo itâs true then? You actually love me?â Chan let out a large sigh. âFrankly, itâs not fair for you to accuse her of things that arenât true just because you put me on a pedestal. Your feelings for me arenât my responsibility Y/N. ThisâŠthis just feels like youâre trying to come between us because of some childish jealousy. Sheâs my girlfriend, and I trust her more than I trust someone who hasnât been honest to me for years.â
You felt like youâd been slapped. The words cut deeper than anything youâd expected, leaving you struggling for air. âThatâs notâŠthatâs not what Iâm doing, Chan. I justâŠI donât want to see you get hurt.â You tried to say back. âMy feelings have nothing to do with this Iâm coming to you as a friend-â
âFriends donât feel that way about each other Y/N! Once you cross that line friendship canât be used as a label. Do you ever think that Duri might be acting this way because you absolutely suck at hiding your feelings?!â His voice was sharper than ever and you could feel a sad squeeze in your heart. âSo deal with the fact that Iâm going to put my girlfriend first- regardless of what I feel for you.â There was the slightest hesitation and falter in his face at his last words, but you were too upset to decipher what exactly that meant. â Iâm done with this conversation. Iâll see you later, Y/N.â He said in a soft yet defeated voice, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and speechless.
The next few weeks were met with silence. Jisung asked what had happened, but you couldnât bring yourself to tell him. You kept your pain buried, letting it fester in the corners of your mind. Chan had felt terrible for yelling at you, and had come over to apologize with extra snacks for your guys Friday night movie, but to his surprise, it was only Jisung who was there.Â
âWhere is Y/N?â Chan asked, setting down your favorite candy and chips on the reclining chair you always claimed. He looked around the corner to see if you were in your room. Your door was open and he walked in, looking at the little polaroids littered across your room on various walls and flat surfaces. He looked at your books and plushies with a soft smile.Â
âSheâs working overtime tonight. Do you want to watch a Marvel or DC movie?â Jisung called from the living room. Chanâs brow furrowed. He knew the company you worked for closed early on Fridays, all employees getting off early. Something he had realized after observing you for so long.Â
âMarvelâŠâ Chan called out, closing the door behind himself.
As suspected you werenât working overtime.Â
Rather as time passed, you found comfort in unexpected places. One of those places was the attractive man that one night, your neighbor Sunghoon. Who, much to your surprise, shared your interests and understood your silence without question. He became your confidant, your quiet escape from the heartache Chan had left behind.
âHeâs probably over at my house right now with Jisung.â You had mumbled as you cuddled up on his side. Also, much to your surprise, Sunghoon was a great cuddle buddy. What was even better is that he wanted nothing in return, nor were there any ill intentions letting you grow close to him in an emotional and physical way. He had confided in you that a deeper intimacy was something he couldnât ever see himself liking, which was why he was set on settling down alone, and that he wasnât much of a physical person to begin with, but with you he found himself not minding the soft physicality much at all.Â
âLike weâre twin flames right.â You had joked, that day, holding out your pinky. He had nodded, locking pinkies with yours.Â
âYouâre right, but I am more than sure he wonât think to come over her-â
The doorbell rang and you sprung up from your position on the couch as Sunghoon made his way to the door.Â
âWell speak of the devilâŠâ He mumbled.Â
Chan stood at the doorway of Jisungâs new neighbor, delivery food in his hand. He looked at the bag and considered the weight of the bag.
Maybe a couple having date night?
âHello?â A tall and undeniably attractive man stood at the door.Â
DamnâŠwow uh-
âOh, hey! I think your delivery was sent to my friendâs house. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was here...â The man looked at Chan with a blank look.Â
Are kids these days given supplements or somethingâŠwhy is he so majestic lookingâŠ
âOh, thank you.â He said , bowing and grabbing the food.
Before the door was shut, Chan couldâve sworn he noticed a pair of familiar shoes, but disregarded it, making his way back to Jisungâs.
As more time passed, you found yourself missing Chan rather than getting over him.Â
âIs it strange, Sungie?â you asked while you were building a puzzle with him one evening- another Friday. âThat Iâm absolutely pissed, and heartbroken, but I want nothing more than to see him? And I canât think of anything other than I miss him?â
Sunghoon thought for a moment and then spoke softly. âNo, itâs not strange at all. Rather, itâd be strange if you didnât. Sometimes, love clings to us hardest when weâre hurting the most. It's like every part of you is aching for the one person who can make it betterâeven if theyâre the one who hurt you. Missing him doesnât make you weak; it just means heâs still a part of your heart. Sometimes, loving someone means feeling everything all at onceâthe anger, the heartbreak, and that unstoppable longing. Itâs okay to feel it all."
You were at your house, and Sunghoon was over since he had become a regular visitor, after Jisung befriended him and then finally pieced together where you were going every Friday and other odd days of the week when you first heard the news. At first he had assumed you and Sunghoon were a thing until you both quickly shot down that notion by informing Jisung that relationships and love were not Sunghoonâs cup of tea.
But since he now knew that wasnât the case, and had long since known the truth since your first and last drunk outing he thought you might want to know.
âThey broke up. Strange enough, Chan didnât seem all that upsetâI mean, he did seem upset, but you think youâd be more upset when you break up, you know?â Jisung rambled, barely pausing for breath. âInstead, he was, like, really calm, which made no sense to me. I feel like Iâd be freaking out, or, like, super sad, or anxious, or angry. How can you just be indifferent to a breakup with someone you thought was going to be the love of your life? Itâs like those characters in animeââ
You tuned out Jisungâs voice, the news sinking in like stones in your stomach as you laid your head against Sunghoonâs side as he read the ingredients on an air freshener bottle while he waited for Jisung to finish warming up food.Â
Chan and Duri had broken up. Your heart was a tangled mess of relief and pain, of memories you hadnât let yourself fully process. After all those months, he was freeâbut what did it mean now? What did any of it mean when heâd already chosen her once?
As Jisung continued his rapid-fire monologue, you watched to the two people who had been a distraction these past few weeks: him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon, in a more practical way since he knew the depths of your doubts and worries, and easily fit into the spot of your platonic soulmate and best friend. It seemed he was more versed on the Chan-sized hole in your heart than even you were, and you were glad you now had him to walk these roads with you.
Eventually Jisung came back to the living room with dinner, and you were soon enough immersed into the activities of the evening.Â
You were unaware what was about to go down when the knock at the door came, Jisung springing up to answer it, his laughter echoing down the hall as he let someone in. The air around you shifted, growing thicker, familiar, and before you even turned around, you knew who was standing there.Â
You had known him long enough to sense when the man you loved was in the room. His presence filled it quickly enough, his gaze sweeping over the space, lingering a little too long on you and Sunghoon, who seemed to be molded together perfectly, Sunghoonâs arm lazily resting on your leg.
Jisung shot you an awkward glance before mumbling something about getting snacks from the store. He and Sunghoon exchanged a glance, and, with a silent nod Sunghoon got up, and they left, closing the door behind them. You were left alone with Chan in the thick silence that followed, the quiet pressing down around you.
Chanâs expression was tense, guarded, and yet, behind his eyes, you saw a trace of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward you, his voice soft. âY/NâŠâ
You met his gaze, pain simmering just beneath the surface. âWhat are you doing here?â
He took a deep breath, guilt etched into the lines of his face. âIâm sorry,â he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. âI should have listened to you. I didnât⊠I couldnât see it. I was so focused on Duri that I didnât see what was right in front of me. She wasnât loyal. I caught her cheating, and I realized just how wrong I was and how right you and Jisung were.â
His words landed between you, each one a mix of relief and ache that clawed at your heart. But you couldnât ignore the questions tumbling through your mindâthe doubts that held you back from even entertaining the hope youâd once felt. You folded your arms, steadying yourself as you looked away.
âChan, I donât even know what to say to you. Itâs not just about her or your breakup,â you said, voice low.
The older boy flinched at your words.Â
âChanâŠâ He mumbled. You had rarely ever spoken his name aloud like that before. So rarely he couldnât even remember the last time you did, and he didnât even recognize your voice when you said it. âI messed up horriblyâŠdidnât I?â
 âYou didnât just choose her.â You started. âYou looked me in the eyes and didnât believe me. You accused me of saying things because of personal feelings. Then went on to accuse me of lying to you because I never confessed my feelings- even though apparently I did and you just omitted the truth of what I said when I blacked out as if that's not also a form of dishonesty. You thought I was trying to ruin your happiness, like Iâd sabotage your relationship out of jealousy. Are you serious, Chan?â
He winced again, his hand reaching toward you as if he wanted to touch you but was too afraid. âI know, Y/N, and I hate that I did that to you. I was wrong. I know I donât deserve your forgiveness, but I just⊠I needed you to know that I truly am am sorry. I didnât think I had hurt you that badly and it was foolish.â
The hurt that had sat quietly in your heart surged to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you murmured, âSo what? Youâre here now because you need a rebound? You want someone to feel close to because sheâs gone?â
Chanâs face fell, confusion and hurt flickering across his features. âWhat? No, Y/N, itâs not like that at all. Youâre not some replacement or⊠or backup. Youâve never been that to me, ever.â
âThen what am I, Chan?â You shook your head, frustration and sorrow mingling together. âBecause if I was the first one you come to- not even your best friend-â You said referring to your brother. âThan there has to be reason behind that. Let me guess, you feel something for me?âÂ
Chan swallowed and you knew his answer when you saw the look in his brown eyes. You let out and exasperated sigh and tried to hold back your tears, but couldnât so you looked at the ground instead.
âIf you really felt this wayâif you really cared about me or dare I even say loved meâŠthen why did you pick her? Why now, after youâve been with her all this time? Am I supposed to believe that just because sheâs out of the picture, youâve suddenly realized what you want?â Your voice was sad and defeated and you let your tears fall. âIf so that's really really mean.â You whined sadly.
His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. âNo, itâs not because of that. Y/N, I was so stupid. Iâve spent these past few weeks⊠I didnât even realize how much I missed you until I lost you. I canât just go back to how things were, but I know I want you in my life. I donât want to lose you.â
He paused until you looked up at him, his heart shattering even more at the glossiness behind your sad eyes. âItâs not that Y/N-ie not at all. Sometimes you really just donât know what youâve had until you lost it.
But something about his gaze shifted as he glanced back toward the door where Jisung and Sunghoon had left. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his brows drawn together in a dark, unreadable expression. âGuess Iâve already been replaced though, huh?â He said quietly.
You felt your stomach twist at his words, your tears drying almost immediately with the thought of where this was heading. âReplaced? What are you even talking about?â
âYour neighbor,â he said bitterly, albeit soft; the label sharp on his tongue. âYou and him. I came here to tell you how much Iâve messed things up, only to see you with him. I guess it didnât take long for you to move on.â
The accusation in his voice stung, leaving you feeling exposed. You bit back the urge to yell, to let out the anger that had simmered for so long. You knew it brought some validity to his earlier statement, him being jealous of Sunghoon, but God did you sometimes want to smack sense into him.
 âYou donât get to come in here and make assumptions about me, Chan. Sunghoon is my friend. Heâs been here because you werenât. Because you pushed me away. I didnât have a choice.â
âBut you looked happy cuddled with him,â he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. âIt didnât seem like you missed me at all.â
You swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in your chest intensify. âOf course, I missed you. But you donât get to accuse me of moving on. I waited. I wanted⊠I thought maybe one day youâd see me. But you chose her. You chose someone who didnât even care about you, and I was the one left behind. So of course I needed comfort.â
He took a shaky breath, eyes softening as he stepped closer. âI chose wrong. I see that now, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I donât expect you to just forget that. But I canât pretend now that I donât feel something for you.â
You stared at him, searching his face for any hint of sincerity, but doubt gnawed at you. âWe just went over this. How am I supposed to know itâs real? How am I supposed to believe that you actually want me, and not just because itâs convenient? If you loved me before than why not say something.â
âWhy didnât you say something!â
âBecause unlike you I donât go around dating people while I have a crush on someone Chan! If it was âoh so obviousâ than you should have said something. Or I donât know, maybe when I blacked out and confessed you could have done something then-â
âI was petrified!â Chan shouted, causing you to take a step back. âHowâŠhow am I supposed to respond when my best friendâs little sister tells me sheâs been in love with me since we were kids. And thatâs its only growing?â He swallowed. âAm I supposed to take that risk and tell her its mutual, but that I donât want to do anything in case things get messy? Because I donât want to ruin things? Relationships are complicated Y/N! People fight and argue but romantic ones are so much heartier. Those arguments and fights hold more weight than friendships. I wasnâtâŠhappyâŠonly being your friend but I was content. Even if it meant I wouldnât get to hold you or kiss you, or see your face in my childrenâs faces I was okay with that as long as it meant there was no risk in ruining things between us. And that saved me from the risk of getting on uneasy territory with Jisung. So I left it alone. I didnât tell you. I asked Jisung to forget about it even if that meant he was upset at me for quote ârejecting my wonderful and perfect little sisterâ unquote.â
You stood there, lips trembling, not knowing what to say as he lay his heart in front of you.
He reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek in a tender, hesitant motion. âBut now that I know what itâs like to live without you, Y/N, I canât go back to that. I canât. I donât want anyone else. I just want a chance to make this right.â
The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much, the raw honesty in his touch searing against your skin. But your heart still trembled with uncertainty, with a fear that ran deep.
âIâm petrified now.â
A tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen from your own eyes. âIâll spend every day proving to you how much I love you, Y/N, so you wonât have a reason to be scared. I donât want to lose you, not again. I was blind, but I see it now. And if youâll let me, Iâll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To get you to a point where you wonât be able to deny the fact I only want you.â
You held his gaze, your heart wavering between the hope youâd never fully let go of and the fear that heâd break it all over again. And in that quiet moment, with the ache of the past between you, a fragile, cautious feeling began to bloom once more.
You took a steadying breath, bracing yourself as you met Chanâs eyes. âChan, I donât know what assumptions youâve made about Sunghoon, but heâs just my friend. Heâs been there becauseâŠâ You hesitated, the words delicate on your tongue. âBecause I needed someone. Not someone to date, or to replace you, but justâŠsomeone who understands. Heâs helped me pick up the pieces after everything fell apart. And heâs not even interested in relationships like that. Weâre just close in a different way.â
Chan blinked, his gaze softening as he listened, brows knitting in a mixture of relief and confusion. âSo⊠you and Sunghoon⊠youâre really just friends?â
âYes,â you replied, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. âAnd heâs not going to change his mind about that. He doesnât want anything more with anyone. Itâs not in him. But heâs been a good friendâmy best friendâŠmy soulmate really.â Your voice trailed off quietly. âHeâs someone I could talk to when I felt like Iâd lost you.â
Chan let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked away, processing. âIâŠI feel so stupid. I was so ready to believe youâd moved on, that youâd replaced me. It was like this nightmare Iâd imagined every night, that youâd found someone else who actually deserved you. And when I walked in and saw you bothâŠâ
His words faltered, and he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and regret etched deep. âBut I know I canât blame you for being close to him. You had every right to find support after what I put you through. I justâŠâ
âYou just didnât believe me,â you finished for him, the words raw but necessary. âAnd then you left, and I didnât know how to fill that space youâd left behind but Sunghoon found a way. But that doesnât mean he warrants any jealousy from you, Chris. Iâm hoping you can learn to love him like you love Jisung. For me?â
He nodded, his eyes filled with regret.A part of you softened at the earnestness in his expression, the vulnerability that showed he understood, at least on some level, of what all of this meant. You sighed, feeling the weight of everything settling over you, but also immensely light.
But Chan seemed like he was struggling for a moment.
âWhats wrong?â
He bit his lip, his gaze darting away for a second before he finally asked, âWas there ever a point whenâŠwhen you thought you could move on? That maybe youâd fall for someone else?â
The question struck deeper than youâd expected, and for a moment, you just looked at him, letting yourself process the vulnerability etched into his features. Did he truly think he could simply be replaced? That youâd spent years loving him, only to let him go?
âI thought about it,â you admitted, your voice soft but steady. âI thought maybe it would be easier if I could just let go. Even before all of this I thought about it. But no matter how much I tried, it was always you. Itâs always been you.â
You felt the familiar sting of tears, and you blinked them away, not wanting him to see just how deeply his words affected you. âFor the record, I donât want to lose you either. But if weâre going to do this, we have to be honest. No more letting other peopleâs opinions get in the way. No more letting doubts fester between us.â
He nodded, a fierce determination filling his gaze. âNo more doubts. I want us to be real, Y/N. Nothing standing in the way, just you and me.â
The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You felt the warmth of his hand as he reached for yours, his fingers tentative, as if he wasnât sure youâd accept him.
You took his hand, squeezing it gently, grounding yourself in the quiet assurance of his touch. It wasnât the grand gesture youâd once dreamed of, but it was real. And somehow, that made it mean even more.
He looked down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. âThank you for giving me this chance, Y/N. Iâll spend every day showing you that I mean it.â
You offered him a small, tentative smile, one that held a flicker of hope. âAnd Iâll do my best to believe it. But you have to understandâthis is going to take time.â
He nodded, his own smile softening his face. âIâll wait as long as it takes.â
For a moment, you both stood there, hands entwined, caught in the delicate balance between past hurt and the fragile possibility of something new. The wounds might still be raw, but you could feel them beginning to heal, slowly, with each beat of your hearts in sync.
As you looked into his eyes, you felt something you hadnât felt in a long timeâa cautious, budding belief that maybe, just maybe, this time, things would be different.
A few weeks later, things had settled into a comfortable, tentative new rhythm. The past wasnât forgotten, but it had softened around the edges, allowing something new to bloom between you and Chanâno, Chris. Youâd started calling him that again recently, just between the two of you, and every time he heard it, his eyes lit up, as though it was his own quiet assurance that he had your forgiveness, that he wasnât just âChan,â your brotherâs best friend, but Chris, the man you were falling for all over again.
You werenât rushing anything, taking each moment as it came. There were stolen glances, shared laughter, and late-night conversations that stretched until dawn, weaving a new kind of trust between you. He was patient and gentle, letting you set the pace, and every step you took forward felt right. It was healing, a slow rekindling that felt like rediscovering a part of yourself that had been missing.
One Saturday afternoon, you and Chris were sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background as he leaned closer, his arm resting around your shoulders. Sunghoon and Jisung had left to get snacks- Chris listening to your request and giving Sunghoon a chance, finding out that he genuinely enjoyed the company of your best friend.Â
âIts like eternal best friend double dates.â Jisung had joked.
But since your brother and best friend had left, Chan had been looking at you with that soft, adoring expression youâd only dreamed of before, and it made you feel like you were the only person in his world.
âYouâre staring,â you whispered, smiling as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks.
âCan you blame me?â he murmured back, his voice warm and low. âIâve missed so much time, I donât want to miss a single moment now.â
You felt your heart stutter, a nervous excitement bubbling up as you glanced down at his hand, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of it. The space between you felt electric, and when he gently cupped your face, tilting it towards him, your breath caught. Slowly, as if asking permission, he leaned in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate kiss that felt like everything youâd waited for. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing gently as if he were afraid you might disappear. You kissed him back, your hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, strong and steady.
âChris,â you whispered softly as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his name slipping out naturally, comfortably. The warmth in his eyes told you heâd heard everything you couldnât put into wordsâhow he was forgiven, how he was here, truly here, and that was all youâd ever wanted.
The tender moment, though, was cut short by a loud gasp and a stumbling sound near the doorway. You whipped around to see Jisung and Sunghoon standing there, both looking wide-eyed and more than a little surprised.
âOh⊠I did not mean to see that,â Jisung said, covering his eyes dramatically, though you could see the smirk threatening to break through. âMy best friend and my little sister? Wow, I was not prepared!â
Sunghoon, by contrast, grinned openly, the kind of grin that said heâd known this would happen all along. âTook you both long enough,â he teased, making his way over towards you to whack your head affectionately. âI was starting to think Iâd have to do something drastic to get you two together.â
You laughed, face warm with embarrassment, but Chris only chuckled, unfazed even by Sunghoonâs physical touch with you, as he slid his arm around your shoulders again. âYou two need to learn how to knock,â he said lightly, squeezing you a little closer.
Sunghoon just shrugged, shooting you a mischievous look. âIâm sure Jisung didnât feel a need to consider having to knock on the door of his own home.â
Jisung laughed, giving Sunghoon a playful nudge. But then turning to Chan with a serious look. âI might still need to have âthe talkâ with you, Hyung. I know weâve known each other forever, but this is new territory.â
You rolled your eyes, pretending to scowl at your brother. âOh, please, Ji. You never said anything before.â
âItâs because you werenât actually together at the time! But now you are.â
Chris leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, a look of peace and contentment in his eyes. âYeah, and Iâm not going anywhere this time,â he said, looking up at Jisung and Sunghoon, his tone serious yet gentle. âNot ever.â
Jisung nodded, his expression softening as he took in the scene. âGood. Just make sure youâre good to her, alright? Or else Iâll have to do the brotherly duty of fighting you or whatever older brothers are supposed to doâŠâ He mumbled, turning towards Sunghoon for backup.
âYeahâŠand Iâll do whatever a best friend doesâŠâ He said confused, shrugging as you laughed.
Chrisâs grip tightened just slightly around your shoulders. âYou donât have to worry about that,â he said, his voice low and steady. âSheâs the most important person in my life.â
Jisung scrunched up his nose, pretending to gag. âUgh, okay, I was prepared for the brother talk, but I did not sign up for the mushy romance stuff. Can you two not be gross for five seconds?â
Chris laughed, glancing down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. âFine, Iâll spare you⊠for now,â he said, giving you a playful nudge and a kiss to your nose
Sunghoon, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin. âHey, give them a break, Jisung. Theyâve got years of this to catch up on. And honestly, Iâm enjoying the show.â
Jisung threw a pillow in Sunghoonâs direction. âWell then maybe you should go find yourself someone if you think itâs cute seeing how my best friend and sister act.â He teased, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. âMaybe theyâll have a sister and then you can join our family.â
Sunghoon shuddered and shook his head. âNo thank you. But Y/Nâs kids will have an Uncle who spoils them.â He said, grabbing the bottle of Soju from the coffee table.
âHey! I get the title of favorite Uncle automatically.â Jisung whined. âNo fair.â
Sunghoon shrugged. âThe favorite Uncle has to be from the maternal side.â
âThe hypothetical-â He shot a look at you. âMom in question is my sister!â
âLogic, doesnât always logic my dear friend.â
As Sunghoon and Jisung went back and forth you laughed, settling into Chrisâs embrace, feeling the warmth of home around you. You felt his smile without even looking and it made your heart leap. This, right here, was everything youâd hoped for and more. And as the teasing and laughter filled the room, you knew that no matter what, you were exactly where you were meant to be. With who you were meant to be with.
<<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>>
@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha
@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun
@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael
@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld
@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9
@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg
@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon
@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz
#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz stay#stray kids#stray kids reactions#skz reactions#skz angst#christopher bang#skz#skz fluff#skz bangchan angst#skz bang chan#skz bangchan#skz bangchan fluff#chan skz angst#stray kids x reader#stary kids angst
175 notes
·
View notes