#having to wait two weeks for her to come back

[sierrale8ne]

celibacy / paige bueckers x fem!reader PART OF THE $$$4U COLLECTION ‘ it’s been four months and two weeks and 36 hours and eight minutes since you been pleased ’

summary after finding out you ended your sexual arrangement with paige for work purposes, she takes it upon herself to show you how much she’s been missing you and how badly she’s been needing you. warnings paige is a hornball that can’t comprehend why you’d want to obtain from having sex, sexual content, packing, strap-on sex, strap-sucking, spitting, literal cum eating like… p is a freak. from lena i felt like bringing back some old pairings so this is p x that reporter i wrote about a minute ago ( in my main masterlist titled easy access ) this is nasty, i’m ovulating so there’s that.

Paige had been accustomed to the life that came with being a star athlete: wake up, practice, treatment, class, nap, lift, and if all of that was completed, the occasional media interview.

Today was one of those days.

Her practice jersey is damp against her body, the navy blue compression shirt underneath clinging to her arms as she answers question after question. Tournament seeding, last year, the draft next month. All of it is the same, just enough for her to know exactly what to say and when to say it.

She stands patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for the next question. And then it comes.

“Paige, is there any advice you’ve given your teammates— specifically Sarah and Jana— about how to handle the tournament now that they’re in it?”

Paige freezes.

It’s your voice, she’s known it well enough to be able to point it out in a crowd full of all other reporters. A voice she’s heard so many times that it became burnt into her brain— every tone, every shift.

You dig your way through to the front, and when Paige sees you— like really sees you for the first time in months— it’s the first time all day that her demeanor shifted. She’s always loved your work attire and how you prided yourself in looking your best. But today you’ve dressed down and she still thinks you look perfect. Low rise washed denim, New Balance sneakers on your feet, and a white shirt with some writing on the left shoulder that she can’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, can you ask that again? I zoned out for a minute.” Paige clears her throat. The other reporters laugh but you stay focused, it your first media availability with Paige. You knew better than to crack, especially now. So you repeat the question, poised as ever and honestly Paige is a little shocked. She thought if anything you’d be just as off your game as she was. But you weren’t.

She stutters, and it’s so small that you almost miss it, but she answers anyways. “Just to embrace the moment. Pressure is a privilege, and they came here to preform on the biggest stage—” Her eyes bore into your own, blue like large pools of cerulean. The same eyes that once made you give up everything, toss away your morals, and submit to her. “— and we all got total confidence in them. Hopefully that translates to them having total confidence in themselves.”

You nod, thinking about how generic her answer was and how your boss would probably have something to say back at the office. It seemed like she always did, but that’s what came with being an intern, you’ve learned.

Media availability ends, and you are very glad that Paige was the last to be interviewed because you can’t wait to get away from her fucking gaze. You cut the recording on your phone, shoving it in the back pocket of your jeans, followed by sticking your notepad and pen in your purse.

You follow suit with everyone else, turning towards the practice facility’s exit doors to head back to the office. Until your stopped, a hand to your lower back that send a rush to your core.

You’re reminded of the first time. The way you danced against her at Ted’s her hand on your back, bending you over as you twerked her jeans, the feeling of the zipper against your ass. How she took you home, made your legs shake and your toes curl, just to become even more vulnerable with you in bed hours later. You learned a lot about Paige that night.

You learned even more about yourself.

That no matter what, as long as she was around you’d never be able to resist her.

It’s exactly why you turn towards face her right now, you hands cautiously gripping your purse and the other raking through your hair.

“Look who finally came to see me.” Paige’s nails rake along your skin, dangerously drawing you closer and closer to her.

You feel your knees getting weak already. She smells surprisingly good considering she just got out of practice, she looks even better. But you can’t. “Stop.” You groan, reaching back to brush her hand off.

“I’m just checkin’ on you, you good? It’s been a while.” Paige says, her voice sultry and a bit cheeky. She’s priding herself on the fact that she still has you like this.

“Paige, we’re not doing this here. I’m at work.” It reminds you of what you said the last time you had her. MSG in New York, another day you were supposed to be focused on work that ended up with Paige’s hand in your pants.

She nods, pretending to understand but the look on her face lets you know she’s thinking about anything but. “Okay, then come over later.”

The blonde had a way of making you go speechless every time you saw her, but right now you were literally at a loss for words. You made it clear when you cut her off— Paige was a distraction— so for her to stand here, so hellbent on getting you alone, in a way she once had you, was ridiculous.

You scoff, looking around at the now filing out hallway. You drag her off, fingers digging into the bicep that’s so fucking big you nearly are taken aback by it. “I’m not having sex with you, P. It’s done, you know that.”

“You’re tellin’ me whoever else you’re sleeping with makes it feel as good as me? Y’know that’s bullshit, ma.” She goes on, and you take a step back for your own sanity. A response bats around in your brain, you shouldn’t tell her the truth, she would get too confident. Too cocky. You didn’t need that.

It came out anyway, like word vomit. “I’m fucking celibate, Paige, there isn’t anyone else.” You grit through your teeth.

Paige’s eyes nearly glow and her mouth curls up into his God awful smirk that you’d want to slap off if she wasn’t so damn sexy. “You? You’re playin’.”

“I’m not. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” You mutter, walking across the hallway to the elevators plans sweating as you do what you know best. Work.

Your night ends with a much needed bath, soaking in the hot tub to soothe yourself of all the stress piled up throughout the day.

And the tension that only Paige Bueckers could give you.

She was good, you had to give her that. And what made it worse was that it was effortless. Paige didn’t have to say too much, or even touch you. All she needed was one moment, one instance where your demeanor shifts and your strength cracks and all of a sudden you’re her’s again.

You couldn’t shake your mind of her even if you tried.

And it made your core fucking throb.

When you finally do exit the bath— legs a bit sore from the attention you had given yourself between your legs— you cater to yourself. Legs smooth, and body smelling of sweet vanilla cashmere. You throw on some cute pajamas, matching silk with a top that fits you loosely. The plan is to get in bed, until you hear a knock at the door.

You trail to the door, manicured feet padding against the hardwood.

And then you open it.

And there she is.

At first, it’s like your mind is playing tricks on you. Because it’s been forever, and no one in their right mind would show up to their old fuck buddy’s apartment at this hour. Paige seems to be the exception.

She wears these dark grey Essentials sweatpants, slightly dirty and scuffed on the hems. They sag just enough for you to see a small edge of her Nike Pro’s when she lifts her arm over her head and her fingers run through her hair. Her hoodie matches, and that makes your knees buckle. The dark fabric makes her skin and hair look even brighter.

“Why are you here?” You sigh before she even gets a chance to speak. Being mean about it seems to be the only way you can think of to get her out. It’s for your own sanity anyway. You’ve never been able to rid her off for as long as you and Paige have known each other.

Obviously, you don’t know Paige.

Because she finds that so fucking attractive.

Paige bites her lip, trailing her eyes to your shoulder where the strap of your shirt has fallen. “I’m still on this celibacy thing. Like, are you sure? And why the hell would you want to do that?”

You have to laugh, because it’s hysterical that your vow to stay away from sex had UConn’s star player unable to think straight.

“Paige, I—”

“Seriously, we’re not having sex anymore because of what? Did I do something wrong? Am not doin’ it right, you gotta tell me.” Paige is babbling, and it makes you so embarrassed that you tug her inside the apartment before your neighbors can hear about it.

It’s unfathomable to you. “I didn’t think it was that hard for you to find someone else to sleep with, Paige.”

“It’s not! But you cut me off, and the first time I see you again you’re talkin’ bout some celibate. So, naturally I’m curious.” Paige attempts to explain, hands moving freely in the air as she talks and you stare at them the entire time. Her knuckles slightly red from the cold, veins adorning the back of her hand, and her long ass fingers. It was a taunt. As soon as you made it clear that you weren’t going, here she was. Testing you.

You take a step back, as if the distance would give you a clear head. “You’re a distraction.”

“What?”

“A distraction.” You speak up. “I can’t do my job with you texting me and telling me all the ways you want me in bed. I literally couldn’t focus.” You explain, and now that it’s said out loud you feel ridiculous.

Paige Bueckers was so good at fucking you, that it made it hard for you to do your job.

The blonde lets out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms down on your counter and leaning against it.

“You happy now?” You respond, sighing loudly.

“Ma—”

“No.” You cut her off quick. This is exactly how it went last time. And this time you had half a mind to know better.

“Let me get you there, baby. No distractions this time, I swear.” She murmurs, voice low and almost strained— hours of practice for the tournament to blame. “No way you don’t want it, ma, just please.”

Paige is walking towards you now, hands reaching for your hips and you let her. You actually don’t even think about moving. You can smell her cologne, warm and woodsy, sticking to the fabric of her clothes. Her hands trail off you to the hem of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head.

Your eyes trail to the ground it falls on almost immediately, because Paige’s choice of a thin tank top and no bra leaves very little to your imagination.

“What do you want, ma?”

A whimper flies from your lips as her hand grips your chin, fixing you to look at her. Your hand grips her shirt for leverage, clinging to what’s left of your morals.

That’s when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you.

“Hmm? What do you want?” Paige repeats, dragging your hand down her abdomen until it rests at her sweatpants. And you feel it. Her sweats were baggy enough to conceal it, but as soon as you feel the length in your palm it’s clear that Paige was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about her in the bath. “You want it? ‘Cause y’know I’m always ready to give it to you.”

“I want it.” You whine, snaking a hand up to her neck, tugging her close to you.

Her breath fans your lips, a smile gracing her face that doesn’t even try to hide. “Yeah? Break this li’l streak you got goin on?” Her hand tugs your shirt strap lower down your arm, and the second it’s reached the furthest it could go you’re slotting your lips with hers.

She tastes like everything you’ve remembered her to be, minty but still sweet. Her lips are soft, vaseline smeared on them and transferring to your chin. You continue palming the strap through her sweats, and Paige groans like it’s an extension of herself.

“Want you.” You moan.

“I know. I got it, baby. I gotchu.”

Paige’s strap sits on your tongue as you greet it with tiny kitten licks. You should’ve known that Paige would’ve made your work for it after leaving her to dry for months. Which truly wasn’t your intention. Paige was attractive, women wanted her, and you expected her to get it elsewhere.

Obviously not.

Her back is flush to your couch, shirt hiked up to give you a view of her hardened nipples and perfect fucking abs. You grip the base, spit trailing down the length that you take into your mouth.

“Mhmm, put that fuckin’ mouth to work, baby. Lookin’ so sexy f’me.” She hums, pushing your still slightly damp hair out of your face.

You plant your hands to her thighs, taking the strap deeper just to prove that you can. A part of you thinks you enjoy showing out for Paige like this again, doing what she wanted when she wanted.

Her eyes flutter shut like she can feel your mouth, the warmth of your tongue running on the underside of her cock— and if she closes her eyes hard enough, she probably could. But the vibration is good enough.

“Four months. Four and a half fuckin’ months.” Paige says to herself between breaths.

You pull back to breathe, saliva connecting your lip to the tip. You’re completely mesmerized by her, you vulnerable she looks even when you’re the one on your knees with her cock in your mouth. You spit on it again, sucking it back into your mouth before taking the strap in again. You’re sure that Paige’s eyes roll into her head.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” She grunts, hips moving forward further towards you. “Gonna paint your face, I swear.”

Paige’s words send a throb to your cunt. You can almost picture it— her groans and slack jaw as she comes. You draw your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit that’s still covered by your pj’s. The stimulation makes you whine.

“That shit turns you on, ma? Just know you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Paige hums to herself. She decides to reach for your hair, tugging you up and off of her strap until you’re hovering over her.

Saliva dangles from your lip, and in her obvious lust, Paige sticks her tongue out. You’re left speechless. Paige was a freak, you knew that much, but she’s chasing after your fucking spit like she’s thirsty for it. Like she was dying in the desert and you were the only one to solve her thirst.

She almost slurps it up, the noise so vulgar that you moan in her face. Paige chases after your mouth, locking lips with you in a deep kiss. Your hips grind against the strap, paying no mind to the mess it’s going to create on your shorts.

“Need it inside me, P.” You plead.

“Celibate my fucking ass.” She groans against you, using her strength to push you to the other end of the couch. Her hands dig into your hips, clawing at your shorts so hard that you’re sure she’s going to rip them off of you.

You’ve never seen Paige like this, this needy, this horny. She dragged your mouth onto her cock with a fervor that was animalistic. Then now, her teeth nipping at your own lips so hard she might draw blood.

It’s hot.

It makes you upset that you held out on her for this long.

Paige’s hands slip to your shoulders, pushing the other strap down your arm and putting your tits on display for her. She breaks the kiss, lips trailing down your jaw, neck, and chest before finally reaching your nipple.

“Paige!” You moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as she pulls your shorts off next.

“No crotchless this time?” She jokes, making you think back to the last time she fucked you stupid. It gets her off, watching how desperate you are for her to make you come.

“I need you to fuck me,” You whine desperately, hand fisting a handful of Paige’s perfect blonde hair. “Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against the unbelievably long strap, almost as if they had a mind of their own.

“I like it when you beg.”

“I know.” You tug your black panties to the side. Paige smirks at how soaked you are, the way your slick drips through your folds. “Want your cock, P. Please.”

With your help in spreading your legs Paige is tapping the tip against you. The wetness of your pussy filling her ears like the sound of music. Your mouth falls agape at the sudden pressure. and she takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with her own spit. A fat glob falling on your tongue and you swallow it almost immediately.

“Tell me you want it again.”

You sob, body aching in need. “I want it, I want it, Paige.”

Without hesitation, the athlete thrusts forward, burying all eight inches balls deep inside you. It’s so foreign, months of being away from her to blame. A collective gasp escapes both of your mouths. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while her mouth formed the perfect ‘O’. Paige eyes you like a piece of meat before connecting your lips again in a heated frenzy. Your back arched into Paige’s as she gripped your hips and began roughly pounding into your cunt.

“You hear her? Just screamin’ for this dick, baby.” Paige hums, her words sending a rush of more arousal out of you. A mixture of pleasure and ecstasy spread across your features as Paige established a fast and relentless pace. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.”

“Baby—”

She breaks the kiss. “Imma distraction, but you can’t get off without me. Can’t make this pussy cum the way I do.” The couch practically groans in protest, its durability tested as Paige’s grunts reverberated against your lips. The room filled with the intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a sensual symphony that echoed off the walls.

You watch Paige tuck her shirt in her mouth, giving her a perfect view of not only where she digs you out, but your tits that bounce in her face.

She’s fucking the shit out of you. And that alone is enough to draw her close to that climax.

“Y-you— Paige, baby. You’re fuckin’ deep, fuckkkk!” Your eyes were tightly shut, face contorted in pure bliss as you cling to the blonde with every fiber of your being. Your legs wrapped around Paige’s thighs, ensuring that she couldn’t escape your embrace. “F-fuck! P!” You cry out.

“Fuck you stupid, yeah? Put yo’ ass to sleep. Make it feel so fucking good, huh?” She roughly pushed the fabric of your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped away, leaving you fully exposed. “Cover me in it, cum on me, ma.”

You want her closer, deeper, anything. So you wrap your arms around her neck, tugging the blonde so close that your forehead touches hers. She keeps thrusting, seemingly noticing that you needed more.

“I know you’re close.” You murmur, trying your hardest to keep your eyes focused on her. “Paige, oh my Goddddd—”

“Y—shit.” Paige’s legs tremble, and you notice the slight falter in her rhythm. “Fuck, you first.” She lets out a groan, followed by a chase of your lips. It’s soft, way softer than how she fucks you.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming— I’m gonna cum, baby.” You babble over and over, your resolve fleeting your body as your orgasm creeps up on you. Paige lets out a high pitched gasp, her face flushed with overwhelming pleasure.

She tried to hold back, to maintain her composure, but failed miserably. A moan of pure bliss escaped her lips as she thrusts once more, practically balls deep into you as she comes. You let out a moan yourself as you feel the warmth taking over your body.

Paige doesn’t pull out, only pulling back enough to swipe her fingers over the ring of come that you’ve left behind. She brings her fingertips to her mouth, riding them out your taste.

“You left me out to fucking dry for four damn months?” Paige asks, her breathing labored from the exertion. She brings her hand down to your cunt, clit completely swollen. Almost desperate. “Left me without this shit for too long, ma.” She mumbles around her hand yet again.

She’s cleaning you up with her fingers, every bit of your release finding her tongue in almost desperate sweeps. You whine at the sensitivity, but let her.

Because it’s Paige, and you can’t fucking resist.

🔖 @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @d3arapril @wbbgetsmewetter @tndaqlwifwy @ykylalex @ohmybueckers @flipthepaige @janaelalfysblunt @cherryswisherz @courtsidewithlani @vamptizm @bdbueckers @makethemhoesmad @unadulteratedcyclepaper @omg-imtumbling @avvwritesstufff @luvnoirs

[powderpinkprincess]

Irresponsible [Lando Norris x reader]

description: Lando has an irrational fear of a cab driver kidnapping you once- Or something like that.

Lando usually didn’t mind when you went out without him. You had your own group of friends in Monaco, and as long as your best friend, Sasha was there, Lando didn’t worry much. He really liked her because she was nice and responsible even when she drank, keeping you away from trouble.

What he did mind, however, was you taking a cab home alone. It didn’t matter how safe Monaco was or how many times you had done it before - just the thought of you, possibly even drunk, sitting in the back of a stranger’s car made his stomach twist. What if the driver wasn’t who they seemed? What if something happened, and he wasn’t there? Lando knew it was probably just in his head, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was the one thing he hated about your nights out - waiting for that text saying you were home safe, hoping that nothing had gone wrong.

At least now that Lando finally had a whole week at home, he didn’t have to worry about that, and he could just pick you up himself. Besides training, he still had tons of work to do on his laptop, so he was busy, but he was available.

He didn’t mute his phone when he went to sleep as he usually did, so you could reach him whenever you wanted. However, when you left you noticed how exhausted he looked, so you didn’t want to bother him. At 2 a.m. you were more than ready to leave, and that was when you noticed your credit card was almost empty. You had two credit cards, one to use in your day-to-day life and another one for clubbing.

You didn’t want to wake Lando, but eventually you had to. He was fast asleep when his phone rang. He picked it up half asleep when he saw your number come up. Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and yawned. “Hey babe, is everything okay?”

 “Uhm, hi, sorry to wake you up,” you started.

 “No, no,” he said, slowly coming to his senses. “It's okay,” he added with a yawn. “What is it, love?”

 “Could you maybe send some money to my blue card?” you sighed. Lando knew exactly what you meant as he used the same method when going out. If the card got lost or stolen, it was a much better situation when it was not the majority of your money disappearing.

Lando stifled a sigh as he turned the light on. “Why, did you forget to transfer money again?” he asked while he opened the bank app on his phone. Lando was a bit annoyed at you for being careless with your stuff again, but he sent some money to you anyway.

 “I’m sorry,” you replied, noticing the tone of his voice immediately.

 “Don’t apologize, just try to pay attention the next time.” He suppressed another yawn. “Are you guys going to stay out?”

 “No, I was just about to call a cab,” you explained.

He was silent for a minute, then you could hear the soft ruffling of the sheets as he moved. “Why didn’t you call me before? I would have come to pick you up.”

 “Cause you needed rest,” you mumbled. You knew he didn’t like it when you took a cab, so you expected the question.

 “Well, I'm up now, so I don't think it matters anyway,” Lando said with a hint of sarcasm. “I would have come to pick you up at any time for you, love, you know that,” he added, trying to sound sincere. He didn't want to pick a fight now that he was awake, but it was a bit of a sensitive spot for him. Lando didn't like that you would just jump into a car with a stranger. He worried about your safety more than you realised.

 “I know,” you sighed.

There was a brief silence on the line. Lando knew you were being considerate by not calling him earlier, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. He wanted to voice that but held back, knowing it would lead to a pointless argument. “Where are you, anyway?” he asked instead.

  “At Aurora. We're still inside at the smoking area cause it's quiet and warm here,” you added. “Why?”

 “Just wondering. Aurora is on the other side of the city, and at this time of night I'd rather not send you in a random cab,” Lando replied, his concern growing. “Are the girls with you?”

 “Yes, they are. But you really don't need to come,” you pushed.

Lando knew you were trying to not bother him, but he also knew that this was pointless to argue about. Besides, he would be restless if he just stayed home now that he was up. “I'm coming,” he said with a finality in his voice.

 “Baby…” you sighed.

Lando was already getting up and putting on some clothes. “Stop protesting, Y/N. Half of the cab drivers barely even speak English here,” he retorted. “You’ve been drinking, you’re wearing that small dress, and you’re- You’re not going to call a cab. Just stay inside. I’ll be there soon.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to reply. You could hear the frustration in his voice, but it somehow warmed your heart. “I love you,” you spoke eventually.

 “Love you, too. See you at the club,” he added before he ended the call.

He didn’t know how to explain what he felt. It was just that- So many things in his life could be taken away within a second. And he barely had anything stable to hold onto, considering how much he had to travel. He knew what people and social media were capable of, and he was just so afraid of you getting hurt. You’ve been dating over three years now, so his followers knew who you were, and he was also aware that people didn’t always have good intentions.

Twenty minutes later he was parked outside the club. He called you, so you quickly grabbed your belongings, hugged the girls goodbye, and then hurried to his car. You sat in and closed the door behind yourself.

Lando winced at the sound. “Hey, careful.”

He had taught you not to smack the door of his car, but apparently you were too drunk to notice or remember.

 “Oh, sorry,” you bit on your lip when you realized what you had done.

You checked your phone to see the time, and that was when you saw the notification of your bank application. You frowned and checked your account. Lando sent you money despite that he decided to pick you up, but you only expected an amount that would cover a cab ride. You huffed when you saw the numbers.

 “Baby, I wanted to call a cab for a ride home, not to buy the driver with the car,” you glanced at your boyfriend, who had just started the engine.

 “Consider it as a precaution,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the road as he started driving. He was still a little frustrated. “Better safe than sorry. And you know I don’t like you being in cabs with strangers at night.”

 “I know, but this is extensive. Did you think I’d have to pay a ransom for myself or what?” you sighed. “You know I have my own money, right? Just not on this card.”

 “I know,” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “But sometimes you can be irresponsible when it comes to money, like leaving your card behind or not checking your balance,” he said, recalling past incidents.

You just hummed. That was right.

 “Besides, this most likely wouldn’t be enough for a ransom,” he added.

 “I was just joking,” you mumbled. He wasn’t in a funny mood tonight.

 “I know,” Lando sighed. He stepped on the break at a red light and looked at you. “Y/N, I don’t even know how to approach this anymore. I’m not saying that I would pick you up because I’m trying to be nice. I’m saying it because I’d much rather pick you up by myself than wait until some creep kidnaps you. I know, you’re a strong, independent woman, but can’t you just let me have it my way for once?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “No one is going to kidnap me.”

 “Y/N,” he pressed. “Please. Seriously.”

You couldn’t force back a small smile. Even though he could annoy you to death by being overprotective sometimes, he was still very cute.

 “Okay,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Meanwhile, the light has turned green again.

 “Okay?” he glanced at you again quickly before looking back at the road.

 “Yeah. Okay.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he sent you a small smile back. Oh, how you loved him.

[lilghostiequinni]

Just Another

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: Another trip after another win. Every time Lando won a race, you couldn't be happier each time, especially after the Netherlands when you found out that Miami led to the start of your family, but the trips over the winter break would be hard, especially being just under 8 months pregnant.

Requested: NO / yes

You loved the little trips that Lando planned whenever it was possible to sneak away, even just for a couple days or a weekend.

It was his way of showing how much he loved you.

You would do similar things; well, the surprise part was the only thing that was similar.

You would randomly buy him something that you thought he would like or make his favorite dish, especially after a tough race.

At Maimi, when Lando won, it was a night of drinks and intimate touches.

It may have appeared that the both of you were drunk, beyond drunk, when really you were both barely tipsy, just high off the adrenaline of the win.

Especially Lando; there was nothing like his first win, his maiden win, in Formula 1.

The two of couldn't keep your hands off each other that night.

When you went back to the hotel, it resulted in a night to start the rest of your lives together.

At the Netherlands, Lando had left earlier than you on race day, wanting to get a bit of a head start to the day.

You stayed in the hotel room for about an hour before you left for the track; you were making sure that what you felt was happening with your body was happening.

The last few weeks, you felt a little under the weather, and your best friend joked about it being a side-effect from Maimi.

Normally, you wouldn't take her jokes seriously, especially the ones about you being pregnant, but this one felt different.

So you took a couple tests in the hour before you left after Lando had left.

You didn't tell him anything about you possibly being pregnant because you didn't want to worry him at the current moment with him being so close to another win.

You planned to tell him after the race.

When he would finally have more than a week or two for a break, and would have time to process what you were going to tell him.

A time when it would be your little secret from the world, then maybe after Singapore was done, you would tell your families, then after that, just wait for the world to pick up on the not-so-subtle clues you would leave.

You sat anxiously watching the race.

You watched as Lando climbed away from Max, making a 30-second gap at one point, ending the race 22 seconds ahead of the current world champion.

After the race, but before he went up to the podium, he hugged you tightly.

"Come find me after media." You whispered in his ear before you pulled away.

Lando nodded, kissed your cheek, and went and did his rather less favorite part of the job.

When the podium, celebrations, and media were over, but before the team photo, Lando found you on his side of the garage, talking with Jon about something; he didn't know what because when you saw him, you smiled brightest and stopped your conversation.

You ran to him and though your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist, not caring about the champagne on your clothes.

"I need to tell you something." You told him after hugging him a bit, while he was still holding you.

You got down, and walked back over to where you were and grabbed a box and brought it to him for him to open.

When Lando opened it, his jaw dropped.

He had looked at the box you had given him, then looked up at you and put the box on the nose of the car next to you before going over to you and grabbing your face, bringing you in for a kiss.

When he pulled away, he asked with his eyes if it was true.

You nodded and bit your lip just before Lando pulled you close again and kissed you impossibly harder.

That was almost three months ago, and you were now closing in on your due date and barely wanted to travel; it was hard to travel far because of how big your stomach was.

You had really popped in the last two-ish weeks, you had basically woken up and said goodbye to seeing your feet.

Trips were getting harder, but Lando always found a way to make getting there a trip in itself while also not putting your health in any danger.

You mean the world to him, and you were literally growing an addition to his world, and he couldn't love you more.

A/N: First in the 400 Follower Cele Driver poll

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @charli123456789 @smashcrabsblog @hadids-world @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @diaryofarandomkid @watermelonslut @gigicisneros @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[jaehyvno]

˗ˏˋ what they love most about you. ´ˎ˗ stray kids

pt. 1 | pt. 2

pairing: bf!skz x fem!reader content includes: general swearing, reader is taller than minho genre: fluff! word count: 1k >

𝜗𝜚 chan .

the two of you had just exited the restaurant after a cute date night, an apology from you for not being around the past few weeks. your work had been increasing, new projects and deadlines you had to prioritize over your boyfriend.

chan, as always, was completely understanding, waving away your apology quicker than you could let it out. "nah, nah. you don't have to apologize."

you persist. the two of you hadn't seen each other in a while.

"if anything, i've ghosted you for work at worse times. it's totally okay!" he says still, but then, he's not going to say no to a chance at time alone with you. plus you'd booked in advance.

the date in itself was went well. you took a candid picture of him while he was pondering over the menu selections, murmuring to himself. he'd noticed and startled so hard that he made himself, and you giggle. ensue him trying to take pictures of you in return.

there was idle conversation over food, hand holding while waiting for dessert and arguing over who'll pay (even though you'd made it very clear that this was your treat).

the two of you walk out hand in hand, both an equal shade of red after an elderly lady commented on how she could see herself and her husband in the two of you. flattering. but then she'd asked something about a ring on the finger, and well the two of you had never rambled nervously so fast.

as you and chan walk, you snicker to yourself making him look over. "something funny?" he says with the mock sass and attitude that you found so attractive. you shake your head, a palm over your mouth to muffle your laughter. it wasn't even that funny. you were just high on the feeling of chan's hand holding yours and everything being perfect.

he scoffs, but you see the hint of an amused smile on his lips, so you squeeze his hand. he squeezes back.

the two of you walk in silence after that, when you notice two men approaching you. chan steps forward, covering you just enough and his grip on your hand tight.

"hi! are you guys a couple?" one of them asks, cheery and smiling too wide. you cringe internally, having seen a lot of these street interviewers online. chan nods, and then confirms it in a deeper than normal voice. "great!" the guy says. "would you mind answering a few questions for us?"

you tilt our head, trying to assess the interviewers. they hadn't come up you and your boyfriend with money and asking for you to pretend to be cheating on chan—as they probably did for most of those videos online—so they were probably okay people.

chan looks back at you, as if asking for permission. you shrug, and then nod. what the heck, sure.

"great, okay so. how long have the two of you been dating?"

chan looks back at you again, letting you have the space to answer first if you wanted to. you fumble, "oh uh, two—no, wait three years."

"best three years of my life." chan comments from the side, a genuine dopey smile taking his features. a surprised laugh leaves you at how in love he looks. was that how you looked at him too?

"aw guys, wait that's so cute. what plans do we have for the future with each other?"

the interviewer guy holds out his phone (acting as a mic) towards you again but chan leans towards it, "mind if i take this one? honestly, second time this night someone's brought this up," a subtle reference to the old lady at the restaurant and your cheeks fire up again.

chan continues, "marriage, obviously, if she'll have me. and kids. but that's all in the distant future, right now i think we're very happy with just us."

you blink and a flash of that future appears behind your eyes. kids. with chan.

"as you should be, as you should be." the interviewer scrolls through his questions for a second and then, "okay final one. what do you love most about your partner?"

you answer first, an obvious and slightly practiced one, "everything." it's not a lie, but a cliche answer nonetheless. "he's just perfect in every way. checks every box, you know?"

the phone slash mic goes in front of chan.

he doesn't answer for a moment, eyes on you, tongue wetting his lips. "her laugh."

"living proof that she's happy. and i love her happy." he continues, "i mean—" you chuckle, half nervously half startled. "see!? isn't that the most beautiful sound you've heard in your life?"

you squeeze his hand, tighter, nails digging into his knuckles. "stop, i love you." you frown.

he smiles bright, that dopey grin that you need to kiss off his face. "love you most."

𝜗𝜚 minho .

"are you seriously wearing that?" disgust seeps into minho's words and you barely hold back and eye roll. ignoring him, you continue trying to put in your earring.

you hear his footsteps, and then his face behind you in the mirror. his brows are drawn and he has his scrunched up weirdly. your lips quirk up. his smile copies yours.

"still talking to you, by the way." his hands grasp the earrings from you and he turns you around. he's gentle with how he puts the earring in, but you still hiss in pain. a low sorry travels in the air. "i'm no fashion expert and i mean, your clothes your choice. but, baby..."

not wanting to have the conversation, you try to grab the other piece of jewelry from him, but his hand goes up. you make a 'really?' face and grab his wrist. the height difference between you and him was in negatives, with you gaining a single centimeter over minho. he wrenches his wrist and keeps his hand behind his back.

"give it back!" you whine, but he steps back, flicking your forehead as he does. "dude, what the fuck, OW!"

he smirks. "answer me first."

you pout, moving away from him and going back to stand in front of the mirror. your code for 'no'.

"what's the point of me buying you shoes and stuff if you're not going to use them, hm?" he places the earring on the vanity, his voice considerably softer.

minho puts his hands in his pocket, weight leaning on one foot, dressed in jorts paired with a white tank and green cardigan. the outfit was a choice, certainly but he managed to pull it off cleanly. he looked delicious already, but the look he was giving you was turning you into a gooey puddle.

"i bought them with my own money," you say feebly. bad argument, another attempt at diverting the topic. he catches it.

he claps enthusiastically, "great! i love independent women. my baby destroyed the patriarchy with that!" you scoff at his sarcasm and he scoffs at you in return. "we're not going if you don't tell me what's going on. i'll tell jisung we can't make it."

"i can wear whatever i want to, oh my god, what's your problem!?"

a brow raises on his forehead, a hand gesturing at you. "this. you've been so pissy. trust me, i love attitude from you but something's wrong."

you sit down on the vanity chair, slumping. there's no hiding anything from him. "i just... i feel guilty."

minho looks confused as he kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his. his thumb brushes your knuckles softly. "guilty? about wearing atrocious sandals with the prettiest dress?"

you punch his shoulder.

"no, i—anything else i wear makes me taller than you. and..." his thumbs still, and his brows pinch together. you almost coo at how cute he looks like that.

minho presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "yn, and?"

"i heard changbin talking to you. something about how you should have been insecure since you're shorter than your—"

"and you think i listen to anything changbin talks to me about?" he interrupts. you stay silent, staring at his hands with yours.

"honey, i don't care about that. if anything, i kinda—" his ears tinge red. "i like when you wear heels. when you're tower over me. no, you know what, i love it. the height difference is hot. there i said it."

you frown, unsure. you had expected him to say that, but you'd been worrying about this for a while now. what if he's been fostering jealousy or anger about this secretly?

"yn, baby..." minho pleads. "look at me." you look up to see him pouting. your heart jumps. "i love you. you know that."

you nod.

"i fucking love your height. they should make a tall girl about us, i don't care. you're my giraffe. my godzilla. king kong. i don't know other tall animals. my little pony? no, my tall pony."

you snicker, using his hand to hit him.

"plus, changbin is literally half a second tall. all his exes have been taller than him, he's not eligible to speak." minho leaves your hand and reaches out to cup your cheek and pinches it. "my baby," he coos.

"i know you're not insecure about your height, and you don't need to worry about me being insecure about mine, okay? it's superficial. at the end of the day we're human shaped cats and i'm the ann darrow to your king kong—"

"oh my god, you're so fucking weird," a watery laugh leaves you. "can't believe i was worrying myself over you. shut up."

he laughs, standing up finally. he grabs your abandoned earring from the table and leans over you, brushing away your hair. he helps you put it on and then pecks your cheek.

"we're good?"

"better than good."

"great," he smiles sweetly. and then, "hurry your cute ass up, we're late now."

an: 😈 changbin shade for what. i was giggling writing this lamo 😭 i had something super cute planned for jisung's, hyunjin's and changbin's. i'll write them afterwards tho. hope this was fun to read :D requesrs are open and so are taglists :)! permanent taglist: @the-firstfruit

[willowsnook]

Stay with me please (Jack Hughes)

Jack Hughes and athletic trainer where they kind of beef at the beginning of his shoulder problems bc he wouldn’t go see her. Eventually they develop a friendship and when he gets his really bad shoulder injury she clears the room to tell him that he would be out the rest of the season. @jaematthews15

Jack hughes x atheltictrainer!reader

—-------------------------------------------------

“Where is he?” You asked an assistant exasperated. It was ten minutes past the time that Jack Hughes was supposed to be sitting right in front of you, and he still wasn’t there. This wasn’t the first time this had happened this month and you knew he was avoiding you. 

As frustrating as it was, you understood it. No player wanted to be spending any time with you, no matter how much they liked you. It was your third season as an athletic trainer for the Devils and you loved your job. You had always wanted to be in the sports medicine world so ending up at a professional team was a dream come true. It was preferable though when players actually showed up to their appointments. 

Sighing, you headed towards the practice ice to catch the end and wait out Jack. You had noticed a couple of games ago that his shoulder was acting up again but every chance you had tried to talk to him he had either run away or brushed you off completely. Mentioning it to Coach, you were happy to see his name on your calendar but then he rescheduled..and rescheduled again…and didn’t show up. So here you were. 

Nico noticed you lingering by the ice and skated over to you, flashing a sweet smile. 

“Hey pretty girl, what are you up to?” He asked and you smiled. Nico was your favorite Devils’ player by far. He was a major sweetheart and always went out of his way to be nice to you. 

“Looking for a missing Hughes brother,” you said, crossing your arms. 

Nico frowned, “Jack?” You nodded.

“Missed his appointment today, the one he has rescheduled three times.”

“Hughes!” Nico barked out on the ice and two players froze. When Luke made eye contact with you he relaxed, throwing a smirk at his brother. Jack skated over slowly, wanting to avoid the confrontation as much as possible. 

“What’s up?” He said weakly, flinching at the glare Nico had thrown his way. 

“Supposed to be somewhere right now?” His captain asked. 

“I forgot,” Jack said back halfheartedly and you rolled your eyes. 

“Why don’t you look y/n in the face right now and tell her how much you don’t respect her and what she does for this team,” Nico seethed and Jack turned scarlet while you shifted uncomfortably. “Rescheudled three times? Get your shit together.” 

Nico dragged Jack off the ice next to you before he turned to skate off. Neither of you said anything for a minute and you finally motioned for him to follow you. No words were exchanged as you walked to the training rooms and you led Jack to a table which he hopped up on. 

"Take off your jersey," you instructed, keeping your voice professional despite your irritation.

Jack hesitated, then complied with a sigh. As he struggled with the motion, you noticed him wince—exactly what you'd been worried about.

"How long has it been hurting like this?" you asked, gently probing his shoulder with your fingers.

"It's fine," he muttered, avoiding your eyes.

"That's not what I asked, Hughes." Your tone was firm but not unkind. "I can't help you if you won't be honest with me."

Jack stared at the wall. "Couple weeks. Maybe longer."

You bit back a frustrated comment. This was exactly why you'd wanted to see him earlier. Players like Jack—young, talented, with everything to prove—were often the worst patients. They pushed through pain until something broke.

"Look," you said, “I know that you think being here means I’m going to tell you that you have to sit out. I don’t want to do that. But I am going to have to do that if you choose to wait too long to tell me that something is wrong.” 

Jack sighed before nodding. “I know.” 

You tried to maintain clinical detachment as you gently placed your hands on his shoulder, feeling for inflammation.

"Tell me when it hurts," you instructed, slowly rotating his arm. Once you got past a particular point he winced and you honed in on that area. “Okay, I want you to ice it after every practice and then come see me at least once a week.” 

“That’s it?” Jack asked surprised. You let a small smile break through.

“That’s it.”

—------------------------

You and Jack saw each other quite often following that initial meeting and you had grown to really take a liking to him. He had brought you coffee each week when he came in, claiming he had to makeup for being a dick in the begninning and you weren’t going to say no. 

He told you a lot about growing up with his brothers and summers on the lake and you told him about growing up in the midwest and being sports crazed ever since birth. 

“I just feel like maybe he’s not a franchise quarterback ya know?” You yapped to Jack as you were tapping his shoulder. He was watching you amused, knowing better than to interrupt your rant. “Like sometimes he has these elite moments when I feel good but then he does something so fucking stupid on the next drive it’s like what are we doing here?’

Satisfied with the tape job, you met Jack’s eyes that were staring intensely into your own. 

“What?” You asked. 

“I like when you ramble about football, it’s cute,” he said and you blushed. 

“Stop flirting with me,” you mumbled and his grin widened. 

"Who says I'm flirting?" Jack replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I just appreciate your football analysis."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. "Yeah, sure. All the guys find my quarterback critiques irresistible."

His laugh was warm and genuine, making it impossible not to smile back. These sessions had become something you looked forward to, even if you wouldn't admit it.

"How's it feeling today?" you asked, returning to professional mode, gently testing his range of motion.

"Better," Jack said, but you caught the slight hesitation in his voice.

"Hughes..." you warned.

"Seriously, it's better than last week," he insisted. "Just still a little stiff after yesterday's game."

The Devils had played a physical match against Boston, and you'd winced watching Jack take a hard hit along the wall. 

“Mmmk,” you said. “I better be the first to know if that changes.”

He flashed you his signature smile as he got off the table and you knew he wouldn’t. 

—---------------------------------

It was a Friday night and you were out to dinner with your friends for your monthly supper club. Your friend Anna had picked a trendy new restaurant in the city and the five of you were tucked away in a corner booth. Two martinis deep you were feeling it and when you watched Jack walk in your section of the restaurant with a couple of other players, including Nico, your eyes lit up. 

“Hey pretty girl,” Nico called out, walking towards your table. Jack shot you a smirk and you felt your face flush, much to your friends’ amusement. “Can we join you guys?” 

With that, you all ended up moving to a bigger table in the back and you introduced your friends to Nico, Jack, Luke and Dawson. 

Jack slid into the seat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours as he settled in. The casual contact sent a small thrill through you that you tried desperately to ignore.

"So these are the famous friends I've heard so much about," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"All good things, I hope," Anna chimed in, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye that made you want to disappear into your martini.

"The best," Jack assured her with a charming smile. "Y/N never shuts up about you guys during our sessions."

The evening flowed easily, your friends meshing with the players better than you could have hoped. You couldn't help but notice how Jack kept finding reasons to touch you—a hand on your arm when he laughed, his knee pressed against yours under the table. Each touch felt electric, dangerous. Your friends weren't subtle with their knowing looks, Anna even going as far as bringing up your ex to see what Jack would say. 

“He was an athlete too,” Anna said and Jack looked at you while you groaned. 

“Really, anyone I know?” He asked. 

“Joe Burrow.” 

Jack choked on his drink while you gave her a look. 

“You dated Joe Burrow?” He asked incredulously.

“It was brief,” you mumbled. 

“And she broke up with him, can you believe that?” Anna exclaimed. Jack kept his eyes on you though, his jaw clenching slightly. Joe Burrow? How could he compete with that? 

"Anna, I met him once at a party in college. We had two dates. It wasn't dating," you clarified, feeling your face heat up.

"Well, he still texts her sometimes," Anna added with a sly grin.

Jack's expression shifted, something flickering in his eyes that you couldn't quite read. You kicked Anna under the table.

"Anyway," you said pointedly, "how about we change the subject?"

The conversation moved on, but you noticed Jack was quieter for the next few minutes, his usual easy smile a bit forced. When you excused yourself to the restroom, Anna followed.

"What are you doing?" you hissed once you were alone.

"Just giving your hockey boy a little push," she said, reapplying her lipstick. "He's obviously into you."

"He's my patient!"

"He's a professional athlete who you get to be around all the time, you’ll thank me later.” 

Later, as the night was winding down and everyone was saying their goodbyes outside the restaurant, Jack hung back.

"Need a ride home?" he asked, his breath visible in the cold night air.

"I was going to grab an Uber," you said, hugging your coat tighter.

"Let me drive you," he insisted. "It's late."

The car ride was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between you. When he pulled up to your apartment building, he turned to you.

“Do you really still talk to him?” He asked and you scrunched your face in confusion. 

“To who?” 

“Joe Burrow,” he mumbled and you laughed before you could stop yourself. “Goodnight y/n.” 

“Goodnight jealous boy, I’ll see you Monday,” you said, blowing him a kiss. He grumbled something at you but you caught a hint of a smile coming through. 

—---------------------------------------

Everything fell apart in Vegas. You watched in horror as Jack flew headfirst into the wall, your hang going up to your mouth as you gasped. He stumbled off the ice and straight into the locker room, your boss following right behind him. For gamedays, you were always stationed on the bench, helping with minor issues while your boss, the Head Athletic Trainer, would deal with anyone bad enough to go to the training room. 

You tried to lock back into the game but your mind constantly wavered, thinking about Jack. Turns out that experience wasn’t one sided - ten minutes after the collision, your boss came back to the bench. 

“I need you to come back with me,” your boss said and you gave him a confused look. “He’s asking for you.” 

You followed him through the locker room and back into the training area where you could hear yelling. 

“Don’t touch me!” Jack yelled as you rounded the corner. He looked crazy, adrenaline pumping and you felt bad for the assistant trying to help. 

“Can you give us the room please?” You asked and your boss nodded before motioning for the other staff members to follow him out. 

As the door closed behind them, the room fell silent except for Jack's labored breathing. He sat on the exam table, his face contorted in pain, his eyes finding yours with a mixture of relief and desperation.

"Hey," you said softly, approaching him with practiced calm despite the worry churning in your stomach. "Let me take a look."

"It's bad," he whispered, and the defeat in his voice made your heart clench. "I felt something... tear."

You gently helped him remove his jersey and padding, your professional demeanor almost cracking at his sharp intake of breath. The shoulder was already swelling, an angry red spreading across his pale skin.

"I'm going to touch it now, okay?" you warned, waiting for his nod before your fingers carefully examined the area.

Jack's jaw was clenched tight, eyes fixed on your face as if searching for clues. You didn’t have to look long, you knew this was bad and that he was going to need a scan and then most likely surgery. 

“No no no,” Jack chanted as he saw your face change, his eyes filling with tears. “Don’t say it.” 

“I’m sorry Jack,” you said, feeling your own heart break. “Let’s just get you changed and we can head to the hospital.” 

“Just give me a second,” he said, his voice cracking You started to move back to give him space but his uninjured arm shot out, fisting your shirt to keep you in place. He rested his head against your chest and you moved your hand to rub his back, laying your chin on the top of his head. “I need you by my side for all of this.”

“I will be Jack, I promise.” 

[dilf-docs]

Saturday But in Your Sunday Best

bfd!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel has a co-worker's wedding in las vegas. everything that can go wrong, does.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., creampie, oral (f. and m. receiving), breast play, fingering, dacryphilia, degradation kink, ANGST (as in i've suffered so will my characters. this wasn't at all what i had envisioned at first for this part), hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff (that's new), pls be nice this writer's block shot me in the foot

word count: 11,121 words

side note: sorry this took so long. between movie watching for the oscars, my other works, midterms, pedro pascal horny hours, my wattpad fic, the max fic you citizens let flop (ĉüřşę ÿoụ āĺļ), the brat taming fic that made numbers among my oomfs on twitter, a very shitty date (the situational irony of letting a man ruin my women's day) a ptwt fic gc in twitter (love u frens), and uni again, i let the ttdik series collect dust, my bad. as compensation, take this girthy chapter altho it makes me kinda insecure IDK. this is why i don't do series okay!! i'm my worst enemy and i fear procrastination is a chronical disease of mine atp

part: prev | masterlist | next

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas

His foot taps anxiously against the marble floor, sound drowned by the bustling crowd.

People come and go. Some hug, others cry. And Joel? Well, he's just waiting for you to come.

He checks his watch, the one Sarah gifted him, and sighs. Should've known better.

It's been two months since the pregnancy scare, and ever since then, you have put a bit of a distance between yourselves.

It was slow, gradual: first the excuses then nights were you wouldn't stay or ask him to. And, even if your affair was that, just an affair, he missed sleeping in the warmth of your embrace. He also missed the way your nose would crinkle when you laughed. You didn't laugh that often anymore, and if you did, it sounded like you were holding in: as if you were afraid to let loose and let him see through you. And to be honest, it was killing him.

So when he reached out to you for this, he should've expected for you to say no. That you wouldn't show up after that I'll see if I'm free text: no, Joel Miller simply shouldn't have harbored that much hope for his daughter's bestfriend he happened to be banging.

If he hadn't confirmed his invitation, he'd probably gone home and layed down. Watch some garbage TV with Sarah and some beer in hand, but here he was, like a lonely loser, luggage in hand.

(Sarah helped him pack. He didn't even know what to wear to a wedding, and then she showed up with his old suit-- that still fit, somehow, albeit a bit more tight, from the dry cleaning. Joel would be lost without her)

The speaker announces his flight is about to leave. Joel gets up, trying not to be dissappointed about the whole thing. He's got no right to, after all.

"Joel?"

He'd end up breaking his neck by how fast he turned.

There you are, and it's like the weight he wasn't aware of, settling on his chest, had been removed.

"You made it" is the first thing that makes it out of his lips.

You softly laugh, "Hello, Joel"

He gets closer to you, slowly, like if he where to do it faster, he'd scare you off. Or you'd be gone, as if a dream.

(It'd be a nightmare, though, because you wouldn't be here)

"Sorry. I-" he cuts off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There's some tension lingering in the air, the same when you left his house a week ago. Joel had been too much of a coward to invite you then, rather hiding behind a screen.

But now you were here.

"I didn't think you'd come" he says after a beat of silence.

You tilt your head to the side, eyebrow up as if you hadn't been acting weird at all.

"Why wouldn't I?"

(Because it seems like being in the same room as me tires you. That your eyes don't shine anymore, and the starry sky looks like a storm when you dare search my gaze as we fuck. Every time you breath, its like breathing the same air as me burns)

He rather not press, so instead, he says:

"I'm jus' glad ya' came. 'S all"

You nod, not adding anything at all. Then, both you walk to your gate, side by side in silence, the same that had seemed to seep inside your romance for the past weeks.

Well, romance was definitely a stretch. An affair seemed more like it.

Of course, you're aware the change it's on you. It would've been dumb of you to think Joel wouldn't notice your withdrawal, or how more often than not you'd be stuck in your head. But still, he didn't comment on it, and like you, danced around the subject, afraid for different reasons as yours. Or the same. Yet, you'll never know. No, you're aware you both are too stubborn, and that whatever it started on that day, had settled in between like a burning flame.

(Had you been engulfed by the fire yet?)

You try not to think about it. After all, you had the option not to come. But a weekend away in Las Vegas after midterms? Too tempting to let go.

(And it's not like images of a stood up Joel in the airport, looking miserable, had made you restless the last couple of days after his text)

"Ya' can take the window" he says, even if it's his seat.

He knows you're nervous about flying, a little detail that came up during a post-sex small talk.

(What're you're dreams? Joel asked. You had answered that you'd love to travel the world after graduating, but that you had a fear for flying, despite having only done it once. It may have been because the first time you did, it was to fly for your grandma's funeral. Perhaps it was by association then, that the bad feelings about boarding a plane could be related to that)

"Thanks" you mumble, sitting down. You're avoiding his gaze, but know he's looking at you.

"What?" a little harsher than intended.

He looks taken back, looking at his lap as he let's out a soft whisper, sheepishly:

"Nothin'. Jus' thinkin' you look pretty today"

A light blush creeps up your cheeks as you huff out a Whatever.

Joel let's a breath of relief out his tight chest and allows himself to smile.

(At least, he's still got an effect on you)

The wedding Joel was supposed to attend is in the Ángel De La Guarda cathedral. You'd be staying nearby, at a hotel room Joel's coworker had paid for, the same where the reception would take place.

Being in the same room as Joel one night should be the least of your worries, but then the space is even smaller than it was supposed to (given by Joel's cursing as he paced around, anxiously), and the strain of your relationship settles in the air, physically so, tight around your throat.

Then, it's the bed issue: there's only one. It's not like you haven't slept in the same bed before, obviously, but there's a certain dread deep in your stomach about sharing the enclosed space when you're at your most vulnerable. He moves around a lot during night, and something tells you you'd wake up to his strong arms and hot breath fanning over your neck, hairs rising at the proximity, making it harded to calm your heart.

"You okay?" he's asking, dropping the bags in a corner.

"At what time is the wedding?" you ask.

He checks his watch. "In about seven hours"

The glass bounces a ray right into your face, and you have to close your eyes at yet nother reminder of why this is all so wrong.

Sarah.

"We should rest..." he says, plopping on the bed. His plaid t-shirt rises up at the same time the color of your cheeks does, when the glimpse of soft tanned skin reveals itself. He looks up to your stiff standing figure, bulk arms behind his neck as he rests his head on his biceps. "Don't 'cha think?"

Lay with me. Not outloud.

"No" you say, hastily so, not missing the way a flicker of dull akin to the pain of rejection finds its way to his brown eyes. "I..." your voice softens. "I'd rather take a tour of the place, you know? It's not like I'll come every weekend here"

He's about to raise up. I'm coming with you, again not out loud, in case you'd reject his offering again.

Which you do.

"I'm fine" you say, grabbing your purse. "Just... I need a moment"

Away from you.

"Suit yourself" but there's a sharp edge on his apparent kindness.

Closing the door behind you, it takes all of you to not turn around and see his face one last time.

You wander off through the bright lights and noisy hallways, walking until the sun of the outdoors filters a ray over the carpet through the glass doors. Strides take you to the pool area, kids giggling, parents sunbathing and youngsters chilling.

You sigh, dipping your feet in the pool, chlorine up your nose and water baterly grazing your sundress.

But you're drowning.

Drowning on his presence, every room he's in now smaller. Walls of the room collapsing, as the ones of your lungs, every breath tight if your nose catches a whiff of his scent lingering in the air. You'd wash the sheets almost immediately, crying when your head hit the pillow and it smelled like lavender and not Joel.

It was the only right choice: to erase him out of your life, because with every new kiss and thrust, he'd take another part of you with him, and you don't know how much more you can give of yourself without dying. A part of you dies every time he walks out the door, anxious heart pondering when will he walk out for good. When he'll realize the thrill is gone, that your escapades were all but a product of his crisis, and what started as a mutual use of bodies, ends in the waste of your heart.

Joel has become a drug for you: knowing it's destructive, but the high so addictive, you don't mind the crash. It's unevitable, and a small treacherous voice in the back of your head says you're just postponing a foretold death.

Yet Joel Miller makes you feel alive. Alive as a spring, grassbed full of blooming flowers. As sun carressing your skin: if you stay too long, the warm becoming burning.

A kid walks up to your sad lonely pensive corner, splashing water onto you.

"Hey!" but he's gone, and it's Vegas, so his parents are three mojitos down from the open bar, asleep under the sun. You curse, getting up and back to your room to change.

When you get to your room, is eerily quiet. And dark, the curtains closed.

You rumage through your suitcase, pulling out a change. The dress slips off, falling to the carpet with a pathetic drowned sound. You're about to change into the t-shirt when the lights flicker.

"You back?"

You scream, trying to cover yourself.

"Woah!" Joel covers his eyes, both your reactions ironically funny. Your cheeks burn as you finish dressing yourself up, and if he takes a small peak between his fingers, well, you'll never know. "Jesus, doll. If ya' wanted it so bad, could've asked"

Something akin to anger and deception morph into a burning flame in the pit of your stomach. Even after all this months, after this imminent fight, Joel can't bring himself to ask, dancing around the fragile line that barely holds on with the clap of skin against skin and sweat, as to replace the tears that will never see the light of the day.

"Right, because that's all I want"

He raises an eyebrow at your tone. "S' a joke"

"Jokes are supposed to make people laugh"

He shoots you a look, before standing from the bed.

"What's gotten into ya'?"

He walks closer, yet you give him your back, tossing the sundress with too much force in your bag.

"Don't know what you're talking about" as nonchalant as you can muster.

"Look at me" you keep the harsh packing going on. Joel grows impatient at your confusing demeanor, not just from today, but days ago. He's had enough. He spins you around, losing his cool as he shouts. "Damn it, y/n, stop actin' like a brat!"

"Don't touch me!" you yell back, pulling away.

"So that's how's it now?" Joel lets out a scoff. "Y' get on ma' bed but the moment I put a finger in ya', y'act all coy and angry?"

"Right, 'cause I'm a slut. That's what sluts do: we get on lonely men's bed and fuck them"

He grabs the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily. His voice is laced with frustration, and you know it's your fault.

"Never said that"

Why not talk it like adults? No. Too much of a coward to do that.

"Jus' tell me, doll. What the fuck is goin' on?"

I think I love you, and I'm so fucking scared.

His voice is soft, pleading. In your lifetime, you never thought you'd see Joel Miller beg. But here he is, standing before you like the smallest man who ever lived and not the unstoppable force you made him out to be.

It should be easy. But words never come easy. Not to you. Neither love, so foreign it makes you shiver with fear. So natural, one day you opened your eyes to him laying next to you, Sarah staying in another city for a soccer tournament, and decided that was what you wanted. All his mornings. His bed voice, thick from sleep. His droopy eyes and tired smile, facil hair tickling your face as he says Good mornin', Southern drawl never more prominent, kisses in between. Let's get sum coffee after, because he always had to drink the bitter liquid out of his owl mug or wouldn't be able to make it through the day.

You want him to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

You want Joel Miller. Want. Want. Want.

"I hate you"

You have ruined me.

He probably expected anything but that, given his crestfallen face. Joel wishes for time to go back, at the beach. He'd say no, push you away. Fought a little harder. Never gotten into your bed.

The worst part is, he's a fucking liar: he'd probably still choose the same, even if the end is near.

"You ain't mean that" not knowing if he's trying to convince you or himself. "Jus' wanna hurt me"

You don't humor him with an answer.

"I shouldn't have come" is what you say instead, the bitter taste of defeat and hurt etched in your voice.

Would've been easier to stop when we should've.

His words run through the tense air like a bullet.

"I agree"

Weddings had always made you cry.

You weren't even a romantic, but the whole thing-- the promise of forever, it seemed to move your heart a bit.

So, if your eyes shimmer when the bride makes her entrance and the groom, Joel's co-worker, tears up, you feel your chest tight and stomach drop. It clenches with something akin to dread and want, as if suddenly, all that mattered to you was love. A year ago, if you told yourself-- the one who got on her knees to suck Joel's dick at the beach that night, that you'd be here?

You would've laughed.

Falling for the grumpy old man who also happens to be your bestfriend's dad?

Right. Imagine that.

Except there is nothing to imagine. All of it is real.

From his quiet laughter, the sound foreign and not frequent by the way it rasps against his throat. But now the wrinkles around his eyes are more prominent, forbidden laughs marking his blushing face. as he looks away, embarrassed. You can laugh, you had said, I won't tell anyone, yet he made you swore like the sight of Joel Miller laughing was the worst thing in the world. So had become the grey strands on his hair, more sprouting each time, as his damp curls twisted in your fingers.

It is also in the way his sweat that drops over your body as he tries hard to last longer, to his grunts that fill the room as he fills you to the brim with his warm cum. How his rough seems to meet every inch of your soft skin, like pieces of a puzzle.

Something clicks when you're with Joel, and you can't help but feel it's your fault this rift has been created, aggressively peeling the white off your nails as some form of anxious torture. But, he too, aside from his initial Just glad you came, hadn't said a word about it again. Even if he had noticed it all, before Vegas too. Nothing. And then Joel told you it was best if you didn't come. Fucking great.

You feel him tense next to you, body stiff when your arm accidentally brushes his when you stand up from the bench, making you roll your eyes.

The fallout had been awkward. The elevator ride took forever, and then the space on the cab felt too small. He took you to the back, on the benches near the exit, like he didn't want to be seen with you. It got you fuming: why bother to invite you at all?

In all truth, you could've picked up your bags and left after the fight, yet you stayed. You wonder who's more of a coward. In this weird dancing around you've got going on, walking in circles over the words Stay and Leave, like both are too delicate to say out loud. Even as the couple speak their vows, amid the claps and tears, your mind keeps drifting back to one question: Which would hurt less?

It's not until it ricochets on your arm that you realize the tears are also your own. You brush it fast, but by the corner of your eye, you know Joel notices. Still, he doesn't say anything, which contributes to your spite.

The ceremony is over, and just as you can feel the anticipation of the reception's drinks to buzz your nerves down, someone blocks you the exit. A couple, more like it.

Before fully registering their faces, Joel's hand flies to your back, pressed in a firm manner that oozes protectiveness. It makes your heart flutter, no matter how much you try to suffocate the treacherous butterflies in your stomach. You try not to think too much about it as you take them in: a man, looking in his middle 40s, probably around the same age as Joel, as the woman next to him, who smiles warmly. Not like the man, who seems unwelcoming.

"Joel" he pronounces his name, manners coming out cold. "It's nice to see you made it"

His grip on your back becomes more firm.

"Mark" he uses the same tone. "Well, when ya' confirm, y'gotta come"

"And who may this be?" Mark's wife asks, not thinking there's harm in her words. You swear you can hear him snicker next to her.

"She's-"

Joel stops midtrack. How is he supposed to even call you?

"I'm his girlfriend"

You don't know why you did that but you did. You also don't know why it causes you such satisfaction to see their wide eyes and Mark's disdain.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend. How lovely!"

His cheeks go pink. "Thanks, Laura"

"Yes, Joel. Didn't think you'd move on" but his tone isn't like his wife's. "I just assumed that being with someone wasn't on your list anymore, you know, at your age. Especially one so... young"

Laura shots him a look.

Maybe it wasn't your place to get angry, not after how you've subjected Joel to your silent treatment this past months. Not after the fight you've just had hours ago. But he is also the same man who held your hand after you thought you were pregnant. He was the one who stayed. It is too how his shoulders slump, like he believes it to be true. You can't bear to see him sad, as contradictory as that may sound.

"Mark, right?"

The man nods, still sickly smiling.

"To me it sounds like you're jealous. Which is awful, because you've got a lovely wife" she looks away embarrassed while Mark fumes. "Also, when I turn around, try not to stare at my ass. I saw you when we arrived"

There's nothing left to say, so you walk past them.

"I think that was funny. Don't you?"

He avoids looking at you.

"I called a cab. Should take us back to the hotel"

No thanks. Nothing.

"Alright" your tone is dry. "Do as you please"

He opens the door for you, but his movements seem stiff and unnatural. Like he's second guessing every breath and step.

The car begins to move when you speak. You lean against the window, seeing the hues of neon through the glass. Joel's eyes burn holes on your head, a glimpse of brown in the reflection.

"I liked the wedding"

Joel looks at you properly for the first time since the fight. Your hair falls gracefully in cascades, hinting at an effort that tries to pass as a nonexistent one. Your makeup is soft, but your lips are in a shade he can't quite name, yet manage to make them even more fuller than usual. God, he thinks of it smeared on his clothes and mouth, feeling dumb all of the sudden. Then there's the dress. He doesn't have a favorite color, but as of now, it may be red: specially if its the red that hugs your curves, pushes your tits up and gives a little peak of your leg with its open cut, dangerously close to the start of your inner thigh. Not appropriate to wear at a church, maybe not a wedding either, but fuck didn't he care. He'd even rip it off, if it was such a problem.

"It was beautiful" he agrees, softly. "Never been to one. Maybe's why I think so"

You remove yourself from the window, now holding his gaze.

"What?" your mouth drops in surprise. "What about yours? Weren't you married?"

He smiles, but it appears to be sad. "Never was"

Joel has told you things. Things he'd never say outloud to anyone else. So whenever he opens up, letting you in, you let him, feeling that familiar pleasing ache in your chest at the thought of being enough: enough to be trusted with a piece of him. Of Joel Miller's heart.

The rest of the ride is silent, your mind still on Joel's hand on your back, on his words, and how the sting never goes.

In every thought of yours, he is.

"What'appened to your nails?"

The question catches you off guard. You're surprised he even noticed at all. But your hand lays in the space between his and your dish, stiff, as if waiting for him to hold it.

"Oh" you remove it from the table, placing it in your lap. "I chipped the polish off"

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, brown eyes examining you curiously, as if he didn't know you. Like he hadn't almost whisper those three words you had been tettering around as well.

"Why what Joel?" tone brash.

He scoffs at the change again, shoulders slumping a bit. Probably in annoyance, perhaps in defeat.

"Dunno" he goes back to his dish, cutting the steak with a bit too much force. I thought we were okay again. "S'rry I asked"

Your chest tightens, as it had been doing lately.

Was this the only thing you knew how to do now? Hurting Joel?

"No, I'm sorry"

It's his turn to get back at you. "Sorry for what?"

You swallow the lump that's formed in your throat, avoiding his gaze.

"I-"

Your eyes nervously dart across the room, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach and knot on your throat. You then catch the perfect distraction.

"I think Mark is staring at us again"

"What?" Joel asks in disbelief at your change of topic.

"Mark is staring" you sigh, getting up and dusting your dress off. "Wanna put on a show?"

"I didn't come to a wedding and wore this dress to be seated all night" you extend your hand. A quiet truce settles in between. "Let's dance"

At some point he gets up and takes your hand. It feels good. For a moment, be it childish or foolish, your mind thinks this is how it is: with no one around to know you, you're his and he's yours. It's just the two of you, dancing and laughing under the lights. He'd know the song that's playing, and when you'd ask, unfamiliar, Joel would joke: how could ya' know it, if you ain't even born yet?

For just a moment, it feels like it could be.

The music is soft. It's some sort of rendition of Lady, Lady, Lady by the band Jim hired to play at his wedding.

Joel's clammy hands slip against your cold palms as you walk to the dance floor.

"Nervous?" you ask, biting back a smile.

He squints his eyes at you. "I'm just outta practice, 's all"

You laugh. "I would've never guessed"

He shakes his head, but the ghost of a smirk hides in his lips.

"Cheeky baby. Now you actin' funny?"

Joel's hand finds its place in your waist, holding firmly as the first verses go by.

Dancing behind masks, just sort of pantomime.

But images reveal whatever lonely hearts can hide.

"Maybe I'm just tired" you reply, placing your head against his chest. His heart starts drumming faster, and you hear him gulp.

"It ain't even midnight yet"

You close your eyes, feeling every breath of his chest against your cheek.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

I know it's in your heart to stay

"Y/n-"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

"I'm sorry" this time clearer.

His body rocks yours slowly to the tempo of the music, and for a brief moment, amongst the sea of guests and the voice of the singer, time stops, and it's just him and you.

"Don't"

He can't bear it. Not tonight.

When will I ever hear you say

I love you

Not when your body feels so well against his, your head resting on his chest like all those nights ago, where Joel held you close, the silent promise of never letting you go on his warm strong embrace. Not when just the thought of losing you is too unbearable to even think of. Not when today, he can let his mind drift away and heart beat, dreaming of things that'll make him the butt of the joke. For a moment, you're not wearing this red dress that's making him insane. You're all in white and there's a ring in your hand, just as there's one in his. You'd dance and say I'm yours, forever. A giggle. You can't get rid of me. And he'd smile and reply a Good, wasn't plannin' to.

But now he feels like he's going to lose you forever.

"I missed you" it's your way of trying, again.

His head is a whirlwind of emotions.

"Yeah?"

You lean closer, until his cologne burns in your nostrils.

"Yeah"

Time like silent stares, with no apology

"Joel"

Move towards the stars, and be my only one

This time, he finds it impossible to shut you up. Not when you've raised your head until your eyes meet his, and the constellations he very much loves are ever present in your stare.

Reach into the light, and feel love's gravity

"Yeah?"

You pull in closer, and he can feel the whiff of champagne coming out of your mouth. Your lips are parted, and a shaky whisper is all it takes for his head to spin, drunk in love.

"Please"

That pulls you to my side, where you should always be

Your lips are so inviting. All he has to do is cut the centimeters separating your mouths.

But it's a wall. One filled with doubts, fear and the quiet rage of rejection.

His voice wavers when he starts speaking.

"I think-"

He hasn't even finished his sentence, but your heart is already broken.

No wonder why you've always treated it like a burden: nothing is worst than a heavy heart.

Maybe he'd come to realize just how absurd this all was. Him, much older than you and Sarah's dad. How could he let his daughter's bestfriend go this far. That he was a forty something guy, dancing with a twenty two year old girl. That love comes in all shapes and sizes, but there's no name for this you have going on since last summer. Perhaps, there'll never be.

"Please" you hear yourself repeat.

It started as a plea for a kiss. You don't know what you're begging for anymore.

"No, baby-"

And Joel is the first to step back.

Lady, lady, lady, lady, I know it's in your heart to stay

The cold water of rejection hits you in the face, far from his warm embrace, the contour of his face, centimeters away, now meters.

"We can't"

An ocean away.

"Joel-" your throat tightens, panic bubbling in your chest.

"I think we should stop"

The whole world around you does as soon as those words leave his mouth.

Sorrow is quick to turn into anger, and all those months of guilt, rush, thrill, labored breaths, broken rules and promises you held to your heart as an oath, sweet whispered cons in your pillow that smelled like him. It all comes crashing down with force.

A dry laugh escapes past your lips. Joel winces at the sound.

"A bit too late for that, isn't it?"

"Baby-"

"Don't call me baby" you hiss, feeling your vision blurry. "Don't call me like you meant it"

"I do" the music has reduced to a buzz in the back of your head. His firm voice borders between desperate and pathetic. "Which is why am making 'tis"

"Fucking coward" you spit, feeling your skin on fire.

Don't give up. Please.

Fight for me. Fight for this.

For us.

"Coward?" it's Joel's turn to laugh. His dark chuckle sends shivers through your skin. "Y' shouldn't be talkin' 'bout that"

"Don't put all of this on me" you raise your shaky finger, accusing. "Don't you fucking dare"

"Thought Mark was watchin'. Or 's that 'nother one of y'r lies?" Joel seethes. "Or maybe ya' don't give a shit 'bout it. Jus' like you ain't give a shit 'bout us!"

"You think this is easy?" your voice raises. "You think I wanted this?"

You think I don't care? That I'm doing well? That wanted to pull away from you? That things got as bad as they are?

To fall for you?

His eyes darken. "You started 'tis"

Your heart stops beating. People laugh, the band is still playing and chatter bubbles like the champagne flutes waiters carry by.

But all you can hear is the moment your palm meets his face.

"I wish I never met you, Joel Miller"

And then you rush out the door, your heels burning as much as your eyes and chest. Far from the party, far from the world.

Far from him.

"We ain't done yet!"

You hear him bark behind you, yet your legs don't stop, despite the buzz in your ears and the slight stumble in your walk.

Your voice sounds like it doesn't belong to you when you hear yourself speak, without turning around.

"I think we are"

But Joel doesn't give up, making you feel trapped between wanting to hit him again and let yourself be held.

"Y/n!" he calls out just like he used to when you were a kid. Like you knew no better. Reckless. Berating. But now the taste of bitter mingles with his punishing demeanor.

You spin your heel, walking menacingly towards him.

"Don't call me that" you seethe, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"That's your fucken name!" he shouts.

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes. "You know what I mean"

"Enlighten me, doll" the nickname feels like a slap to your face, and for a moment, you wish he called you by your name again, instead of tainting the always sweet calling with his vitriol, as if the four letters meant something sacred he had profaned. "S'a matter of fact, why don't y'enlight me 'bout everythin' that's goin' on. 'Cause guess what? I'ont know what the fuck is happenin'!"

And it terrifies me.

His shout probably ran across the empty hallway. The music coming from inside sounds like a muffled heartbeat, mirroring your own.

To lose you. I might as well have.

"I don't know why you seem'a hate me now" quiet this time, like every word coming from his mouth take his voice little by little. "Why ya' get all sweet on me after weeks of leavin' me, pushin' me to the side... I'm old, doll. I ain't capable of takin' this anymore"

I'm not capable of surviving a broken heart.

The possibility of losing Joel, foever, had never crossed your mind, not even as you closed off, ignoring the way his brown sad eyes would search yours to try and find answers, maybe scraps of the... whatever it was you shared.

Now, it was real, and it shook you to the bone.

"Was fun while it lasted" closing off, trying to shut the doors he let you in, clawing back to that Joel Miller who couldn't be bent. The one Sarah deemed unbreakable. But it's the same that didn't know when to back down, now praying the price of his foolishness.

I don't regret it, but Joel doesn't have it in him to give you more of his heart for you to take. If he cuts it now, from the root, he'll spare his brain from saving more seconds of the image of you he'd have to get rid off: you, taking your coffee with two bags of sugar because you hated uneven numbers, and three seemed too much for your latte. You, standing on his room like you belonged there. You, on his car, the leather having absorbed some of the floral scent you seemed to carry with you. In your clothes, your skin, your hair. He'd have to go to bed knowing he'd never get to feel your strands in his fingers, tickling the remmanents of desolation he'd been carrying like a second skin ever since Sarah's mother walked away.

Your blood runs cold.

"Fun?" the words spill in a bitter incredulous tone, all the while you're trying to hold to him without raising your hand for him to take it, like just the thought of it would be enough to choose you. Words seem to fail you, and grasping at him feels like holding sand: it keeps falling from your fingers, a cruel reminder of your borrowed time. "Joel"

"Fun" he repeats the word, feeling sick. "As in, you'd marry someone who's worth for ya'. Probably choose Texas, maybe you'll stay away. 'Cause you're smart, and know what's good. But if ya' came back, livin' at the same neighbour, in the house across mine, you'd glance up and see my porch, thinkin' 'bout us, and this will become a joke with y'r husband, 'bout your rebel days. To your kids, summ cautionary tale. To you? An'scape of summ sorts of y'r other wise boring life"

Your shaking at this point, not knowing if it's anger, humilliation or sorrow.

I'm sorry. Please, don't give up on me. Stay.

"I'd be an experience. But to me? Doll" Joel chuckles, humorlessly. "You were everythin'"

A choked up sob bubbles from your chest.

"So that's what you think of me?" you laugh, a sound so hollow it makes his skin shiver. "That this is for the thrill? For the fucking anecdote?!"

"Trust me. I've lived long 'nough, kid. You'll understand later"

It's like all those months next to him meant nothing. Like pulling away from your lips was the easiest thing to do.

"Don't you fucking dare call me a kid!" you push him. "I'm not a kid"

"I know you ain't!" he roars back. "But you don't know shit!"

"Neither do you!" your quick to counter. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh? Bet you think that I'm some helpless naive idiot who doesn't know what I want. I don't know what I'm doing, that you're right. But I do know what I signed up for, the price I would pay" losing you or Sarah. Both. "I wanted it, and newsflash: so did you" you breath, running your hands through your hair, trying to comb some sense of normalcy to ground yourself while you try to recover your composture. His arms lay weakly by his sides, restraining himself from running to you and craddle you on his arms. "You chose this. You chose me, Joel Miller" each word pronounced with contempt. "I'm not a victim. Neither are you"

A dry chuckle escapes past his chapped lips. "What are we, then?"

(Two lonely people who seeked warmth. People who fell into the same bed. Shared time they shouldn't have. Selfish. Living on borrowed time. Always tettering around the edge, so easy to fall. History repeating itself. The dancing around. Dirty, like the Texan roads: and they all lead back to Joel Miller)

"So do it" you shove him again, as if by doing so, you could push him away forever. From your mind, from your heart. From your life. "Say it"

He shakes his head, as if you'd insulted him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Say. It" you bark, tasting the venom on your tongue. "Say it!"

"I can't" looking so small, your resolve almost crumbles. Almost.

"Coward" you spit, repeatedly punching him feebly on the chest as tears stream down your cheeks. He tries to grab your hands, to stop you. "Don't touch me! Let me go"

"I can't" this time louder.

Tears sprout with more intensity at the desperate weight on his tone.

A single drop runs down when you say, defeated: "Quit me"

"I can't!" he shouts in your face, voice breaking slightly.

"Why?!"

"'Cause I fucking can't!" Joel breaks. He crumbles in your arms, body shaking as he buries himself in your reluctant embrace. He speaks again, this time softer, "I can't lose 'cha, baby. If that makes me sum goddamn coward, then so be it"

Something in you stirs. Like a lost boat, finding a lighthouse during a storm. Arriving to shore with gentle waves. Home, where it belongs.

"Joel-"

"I'm sorry for bein' selfish" between agitated and terrified, afraid of the silence and what you may say. "For noticin' your quiet and still carryin' on"

"Joel"

"Believe me, doll. I tried to stop. To leave ya'" he swallows, "but then I got invited and my mind went to ya'. Fast. You were the first person in my mind. Always are. I think that's when I knew. S'okay if you don't-"

"Joel!" you shout this time.

He raises his view from his little spot on your chest.

"It isn't just you" in a whisper that could easily pass as the wind that sweeps inside from the main door. Voice so fragile it hurts like glass. "I feel this too"

Just like that, he's both gone and back. His heart beats on his throat, voice raw when he searches for your eyes and asks:

"You do?"

The big unbreakable Joel Miller, looking at you not like a force to be reckoned with, but as a man, worn down by years of solitude and the weight of a secret.

You smile through the tears. "I've been many things, but a liar never"

He chuckles, softly. "Always was a bad one"

"See?" softly teasing, "you can attest to that"

"Twenty one years seem 'nough"

"Soon to be twenty two" pause. "And I would love it if you were there to see it"

A breath hitches somewhere in the middle of the new aphonia that's settled.

"You don't mean all'at. Think 'bout it-"

"I do" you interrupt him, firmly. You hold his gaze while cupping his face, the fright on his face mirroring your own. "You asked before, remember? There's your answer"

Joel is at loss for words. Was never good with them, less when it came to you: like your presence unsettled him in the same way tornadoes made him quiver when he was a child, rattling him to the bone. But there was a morbid fascination to them, in their destructive nature. Like beauty could be horror too, and he had learnt it thanks to your unforgiving winds that had swept him away from his feet.

He was flying. Fucking flying. Never quite landing. Afraid of the fall.

"I'm scared"

Joel leans in, forehead touching yours. His skin is warm, something about it soothing your nerves down.

"Me too"

You bite back a smile. "Big broody Miller, scared?"

"Y' know how'da disarm a man. I'll give ya' that"

You laugh, eyes crinkling while you swat his chest playfully. It's the same sound he missed so dearly. Joel can feel himself breath with relief.

"Now that's the story I'll tell my kids" could be our own. "The one where I won over Joel Miller"

A deep, rich rumble erupts from his chest as he pulls you even closer, this time, your head the one on his chest.

"I'll do you one better" he slowly moves his leg closer to the inner part of your thighs. "Wanna hear how it ends?"

"Jesus, Joel" laugh tense. Your heart pulses like his cock. Hard. "You sure are a mood killer"

He presses further. "But ya' want it, don't 'cha?"

You whimper, weakly. Truth is, you've been wet since you saw him dress on his rather tight suit. Now, after what you just confessed, you're not sure you can hold back any longer.

"Use y'r words, baby"

"Our room" the possesive adjective making his stomach rumble with need. "Now"

Stumbling feet. Whispered breaths oozing with drunk desire. Giggles. Buttons of an elevator pressed forcefully. A crammed space that felt even smaller. More giggles in a hallway full of doors that looked the same. Some mumbling, trying to remember the room. Grabbing the card from his pocket. You somehow make it to your room. Fumbling fingers. One swipe. Two. Try slower, but his voice is as urgent as strained. The door gives in. Finally, couldn't wait any longer. And he's chastising you, for being so impatient. Yet his eyes are all dark and sweet when looking it at you.

"We're here" and then the door closes with a loud thud. And Joel is yours again, just like he was that night, and forever was since.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. You open your mouth and let his tongue get inside as you moan his name.

"Please" you whine.

"Please what?" Joel chuckles, enamoured at your hanging mouth and heaving chest. Fucking tease. "Use y'r words, doll"

"Please, Joel" and hearing your name fall out of your lips like it's the most sacred prayer brings him weak to his knees. "I need you"

(I need you, as in I need you here. With me. Now. To never let go and hold my hand, not only when we fuck, but also when we walk, side by side, hands brushing like a touch it's too much to bear. Because if we held hands, I'd never be able to pull back. I need you to look at me as you undress me, because I'm bearing all of me for you, scars, body and secrets, trembling like a scared child, because no one's ever had me. Not like you. Not like you)

"'S right, sweet thing" he drawls out in a husky whisper, like his slick tongue was coated in honey. He pulls your head back, nipping and sucking on your skin. "Say ma' name like 's the only thing you know"

And in a way, it is. Because you'd always call Joel, fingers itching at a number you've memorized until it's burned in your eyelids, like when you close your eyes, you can see him standing in front of you, Texan accent and heavy boots in your doorstep, later to be discarded and hidden beneath your bed.

He pulls back, making you involuntary whine at the loss of his lips and tongue on you.

"Tell me you want this" he's saying, and for a moment, past the fire and the need, you see Joel as not the man who can bring you to come two times in a row, but your bestfriend's dad, who's slept in a bed alone for the past two decades, who can't meet you in the eyes when he undresses himself, looking like the one who's got the more to lose when his lips press aginst yours in a soft manner, not out of tenderness but out of fear.

"I do" without hesitation, as if you would tattoo your promise and wear it like your heart on your sleeve. "I want you, Joel"

You want all of him: from his boring Sundays sprawled on the couch watching a rerun of some old sitcom to his greying hair, aching joints and creaking bones, that despite so, would still kneel and eat your pussy like a man starved, tongue sliding through your folds with a learned ache, pouring the same yearn, longing and hunger that he wears on his eyes when they land on you, no matter if his brown are miles away, because they'd always find your own, like a boat lost in translation and a sea of sorrow coming back home, as if you're the only important thing in the world. His anchor. The lighthouse of his vast ocean of forlorness.

"That's my girl" but no smirk adorns his face, rather a small smile that warms your chest, right as he pulls you back in. There's a shift in the aire as he kisses you know, as if not only his tongue is in your insides but his soul, without holding back this time, like all limits have blurred and melted into a pool of desire and affection.

Joel pushes you down onto the wide bed, climbing on top of you as he kisses your jawline, leaving wet kisses along your warm skin. You moan as every contact of his mouth sends shudders to your body, him taking his time as he works over your jaw, down to your chest.

"Such'a pretty doll. And's mine" his calloused fingers fiddle with your bra, unclasping the lingerie until it falls messily discarded next to the bed. "Got summ nice tits on you, baby" and Joel's eyes sparkle with excitement, lighting up like the neon lights of the Vegas sign, "don't 'cha think?"

Your back arches with his touches, mouth ghosting over your nipple, already pebbled at just Joel's breath.

"Fuck, Joel" you mewl his name, dragged with difficulty as he laps his tongue over your breasts greedily. You can feel Joel's cock pulse and throbb in your thigh as his body hovers over yours, lips still wrapped around your nipple as he suckles and nibbles at the tender flesh.

"'S sorry, doll" he's apologizing in a mocking manner as you whimper at the contact of him against you, suckling hard, tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud as he drew it deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. "Ain't know you'd be so fucken responsive with just a lil' lick at y'r pretty tits"

As your body trembles and quakes, he speaks again.

"Open y'r mouth" you do so, because honestly, you'd never deny him a thing. "Want 'cha to suck on 'tis fingers, like the slut ya're. Get them wet so they feel good against 'tis greedy pussy"

You take the fingers as you'd take his cock, sucking on the skin that tastes like salt and gasoline, a slight bitter taste but you take them as deep as you can, until your lips brush his rough knuckles.

"Good greedy whore" he praises. "Now let me help ya' with that"

Joel gestures your damp panties, taking them off and putting them up his nose, inhaling like he did the first time you ever fucked, back at the beach house that summer that feels a life ago, seawaves crashing onto the shore as they drowned out your moans.

"Sweet" as if your arousal was his favorite dessert, gripping the sticky lingerine until his knuckles turn white. "Fucken wet and drippin', and s'all for me"

He feels your greedy hands fumble with his pants and belt, pulling him closer as the feeling of unfairness at his clothed figure dawns upon you.

"I like how you look in a suit, but right now-"

He laughs, a deep rich sound bubbling up from his chest.

"Ma' baby wants it that bad, huh?" you nod your head feverishly, a beg threatening past your lips.

"Please, Joel. I want to suck your cock" the dirty words come out as quick as a breath. "I missed it so so bad" not caring at all about how desperate you come across or the pitiful begging that's a plea away from drooling out of your mouth with an aching hunger.

"'S that what you want? Draggin' me out'a reception 'cause y'r greedy dirty mouth couldn't keep still? Bet you'd crawl on da' floor just to get a taste of this dick" every word makes you mewl. "Might have to see ya' beggin' for it"

"I'll do it" you beg, voice a wanton plea. "I'll do whatever, I just need to-"

"I see ya' really do"

He removes your hands from his body, chuckling as you pout and whine like a baby.

"Love hearin' ya' so eager fo'me" Joel says, tugging the pants finally down. Through the cloth of his underwear, it's impossible not to see the silhoutte of his hard throbbing dick.

The sight of him, hair disheveled, pupils blown wide, white button shirt now wrinkled and sticky with sweat, tie loose and that faint smell of champagne that clung to his mouth and scent like a second layer of his skin.

"Get on the floor. Now" he commands, and you're quick to obey. "Gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours until my cum dribbles outta your cheek. S' now? Be obedient if ya' want a taste, slut"

You let out a small whimper as Joel frees his cock from his underwear.

"That's right, baby. Like what ya' see?" his cock is straddling your face in your current kneeling form. "Need that mouth to open wider"

You obey in an instant.

"Good girl"

Joel shoves his cock inside your mouth, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pushing a little further. You bob your head forward but the task proved to be hard when he was thrusting at the same time. His big hard dick hits the back of your throat, a gag dying past your busy lips. 

"'S it bad if I tell ya' I like watchin' you squirm and struggle with my cock? 'S fuckin' hot"

You narrow your eyes, struggling to keep your throat relaxed as he thrusts forward, fucking your mouth and throat. Your thighs clasp together, the slick pooling down your legs in the absence of underwear.

Joel's groans become raspier as his body begins to tense.

"'M gonna fuck y'r throat raw, doll. And then, I'm gonna cum. Down y'r greedy throat. 'S my girl okay with that" he can see the plea in your eyes as you choke on his cock once more. "S'alright then. Ya' know I love to spoil ma' girl"

As his body starts to edge closer, his tongue runs loose.

"Love watching you suck ma' dick" he looks down on you, eyes glossy, probably because he was drunk in alcohol and you. "Love how it feels. Love how you feel. Love- I love you"

(There's an involuntary gag somewhere)

Joel's body tenses and it doesn't take that much for you to feel the warmth of his cum go down your throat.

You choke again and he brings his dick out of your throat and let you swallow the rest. 

There's a beat of silence, as dense as his fluids down your throat. You avoid his gaze, heart drumming on your chest.

"Doll..." he whispers, the last bits of climax sweating off his skin; all that's left is shame. "C'mere"

(Say it back, he should plead. I know your eyes don't lie, but if I heard those three silly words out of your mouth, I could die happy tonight. A bigger man would beg, but he's never been good, even if he tried)

He helps you get up, wobbly legs not being of help when it comes to the shock of his confession.

I love you.

As much as a tender touch as a knife slitting your chest open in a clean cut.

(You're bleeding love)

Love.

Such a foreign word, one you've never felt before. Yet, what's scary is recognizing that latent warmth on every stolen glance; brush of a hand. The tingles provoked by getting the largest serving, even if his daughter sat at the same table. The flutter of your chest when he tried to be there for you when you thought you were pregnant, even if he was as scared as you. In every little thing he had done since you first started playing with fire, how you wore his heartbeat as an echo and his skin like a second layer to your own.

His lips are swollen when they take yours.

"'S fine" some kind of tiredness seeping through the cracks of his gruff exterior and composed rejected posture. "Ya' don't have to-"

"I love you" you croack out.

His voice comes out impossibly small as he whispers. "What...?"

A fireworks show explodes out somewhere in the background.

"I love you" you repeat, words dripping with an adoration only known to captain's going down with their sinking ships.

You're drowning, but the water doesn't burn your lungs anymore.

"Lemme help with that" he's tugging down your bottom lip, fingers playing with your mouth to open it. He gazes at you with a look that tugs at your heartstrings. "Open, baby"

Your sore throat and warm mouth welcomes the spit he lands inside your mouth.

"There ya' go" and you swallow it, making him curse. "Fuck. 'S so hot seein' you do that, my lil' sweet slut"

"Joel" you whine, hands curled up in white fists as you grab him by the collar of his button shirt.

"Whoa, baby. What's goin' on?" he chuckles softly. "Use y'r words"

"Y-You made a mess-" you blabber, the wet slick between your thigh sticky. "I-It hurts, Joel"

"Hurt?" he cocks an eyebrow. "Care to show me where?"

You sit in the bed, parting your legs, finger pointing out the moist zone.

"Here"

His adam's apple bobs, and the gulp reverberates against the walls of the room.

"Fuck... I see" each word strained. "Don't worry, doll. I can help ya' with'at"

It's his turn to kneel, knees burying on the carpet.

He places one of his big hands on your knee, his calloused fingers tracing absent patterns over the skin. His other hand drums slighty against your trembling leg, so close yet so far. You're so impossibly eager, and a part of him, that fragile ego, is boosted to the roof at your (actual and very real) want for him.

All that glistening pussy was his work. Joel really disarmed you like that.

"If I do this, maybe it won't hurt anymore" his mustache and recently trimmed beard tickle against your sensitive folds as he presses a kiss to your core. You writhe, throwing your head back as your hands fly to his hair, gripping the greying loose curls tightly at the contact. "Will ya' let me eat out this pretty pussy, doll?"

"Please" you let out, breathlessly.

"Love hearin' ya' beg" and he dives in, strong hands holding your thighs on place as he sucks your clit lightly. Your hips buck, his face burying into your cunt to the point his nose touches the warm folds. You moan at the feeling, his tongue now circling against your center.

"J-Joel"

"Feels s'good, right? As good as I feel feastin' on this tight little cunt" and his deep voice sends jolts when it echoes against your walls. You squirm at the sensation, stomach tight with his sucking and licking, misntrations sending you to the edge.

"Joel?"

Barely above a whisper, voice tight.

He looks up to you, pupils blown wide. "Yes?"

"C-Can you finger me, please?"

"Fuck, baby" he whistles. "You really know how'da bring a man to his knees"

And you chuckle at his lame attempt of a joke, not laughing at him but with him.

Joel slides one of his thick, calloused fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the velvet softness of your inner walls clench down on the invading digit, a demonstration of how impatient they were to take his cock. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, slow circles.

"Wanna hear you, y/n" just your name alone on his mouth makes you writhe, and Joel's encouragement as his finger dips lower to tease at your entrance. He slides a second finger into your cunt, pumping in and out of your tight walls in a steady, driving rhythm. You roll against his hand as he curls his fingers. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Wanna see you ride 'em 'til you come undone. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue as you scream ma' name"

He can feel your body start to tremble, pussy clenching down on his fingers as he fucks you with a relentless pace.

"Shit" he groans, tongue lapping firmly at your clit, "s' fucking tight"

"I-I can't help it" you feel the burning sensation in the corner of your eyes, "I-I feel every inch of you in me"

(Up to your body, head and heart)

"And you ain't even had my cock yet" he's quick to tease. "But I know you'll feel s'good, baby. Takin' my cock like da' good girl y'are"

Tears begin to stream down your face freely, the salty drops hot against your warm skin.

You sniffle, and Joel's movements stop for a bit.

"You cryin'?" but you know damn well he's aroused, by the way he licks his lips absentmindedly as his brown orbs stare back at you, dilatated. You still remember the last time you cried during sex, and how his reaction was practically the same, except this time, it's received with a grateful welcome home. "Fuck, baby- I love when you cry like a lil' cocksleeve over ma' dick"

Despite the lewd words, he's wiping your tears away with his thumb in a soft gentle touch.

"S'okay, baby" he coos, kissing up your throat and onto your chin. Then, you feel a wet sensation on your cheek: but it isn't the tears, yet his tongue, licking the hot stream. "I'll give ya' ma' cock if you want it so much. Now quit your cryin', yeah?"

But you keep sniffling, impossible to close the dam once it's broken.

"My sweet crybaby" Joel mumbles, "I love ya', doll"

"I love you too" each time you said it, a new flower blooming in your heart. It could be. "I do, Joel"

He smiles, the kind of smile that is painful to watch. The kind that says: Is this real? Do I deserve this?

"Y'know I'm bad with words, so lemme show you instead"

He's climbing on top of you as you push yourself into the middle of the bed, lips tangled into a demanding kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth like he wants to tame it. He drops his underwear again, but he's still wearing the goddamn shirt. You whine, and for a second, while over you, he stops.

"What is it, baby?" Joel pants.

"T-take it off" you huff, worked up. You let the tie loose first, starting to unbutton his shirt after. "I want to see you, Joel"

His hand is quick to fly and stop you from taking it off. Even in the dim lit room, you can see the faintest of a blush covering his cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he mumbles, "I dunno-"

"Please" trying to remove his hand.

"You really wanna?" but behind his teasing smile there's both a hopeful and vulnerable glint to his voice.

You extend your hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it's just you, your ragged breaths and the light tickle of his growing beard on your palm.

It could be.

"Because I love you" holding his gaze firmly. "All of you"

"Fuck, baby" Joel starts to get off the shirt, "ya' really made those fuckers downstairs drop their damn mouths when ya' walked in with me. Couldn't believe it, such'a pretty girl could be mine" he snarls, grabbing your face by the chin. "Hell, I'ont believe it either. That you could wanna be with me"

But then you're touching his now naked form before you, fingers slowly tracing through his face to his tense jawline. Then across his broad shoulders to his tummy, feeling the soft swell against your stomach as he leans over your eager form. It's the way you look at him, as if he's the most beautiful man in the world, that makes his breath catch on his throat, staggering.

Your sweet broken voice rings in his head.

It isn't just you. I feel this too.

(Scared. Confused. Happy. Grieving. Loving)

It should be his ego boosted and cock stroked, but when his eyes find yours, it's his heart that feels the fullest.

Fuck, he was too old for this shit.

"Look at 'cha, making lame ol' me a sappy motherfucker" he laughs, the same blush from earlier now more prominent. He leans down to kiss you, his moustache brushing your lips. "If ya' don't stop, I'll take ya' right now we're gettin' married tonight by summ random Elvis guy"

"What If I wanted that?" you challenge as your mouth presses fluttering kisses to his caging arm, lips stopping on each spot and mole peppered through his thick bicep.

"Then get dressed" you feel him squirm under your insistent lips, "'cause I ain't gettin' married again while naked"

"Where you married, Joel?" you can feel the salt air up your nose of the first night again, asking the same questions. The fact that he's opening to you warms your chest in a pleasant way.

He looks at you absentmindedly, humming as to confirm.

"We were too damn young. Had to, for the baby on the way" he tells. You remember Sarah's aversion to the topic, and given his next words, it makes sense. "Then she left"

I would never leave.

"I'm sorry" you offer instead.

"Don't" the atmosphere is quick to change again as thise words leave his mouth. "Now, where were we?"

You're quick to spread your legs to him, gilstening cunt on full view.

"Good girl" he smirks, lining himself with your warm entrance. "If ya' keep behavin', I might give ya' my cum"

His tip against your clit for a few seconds before pushing down against your hole. Joel groans as his length sinks in your gummy walls, feeling the tightness from before.

"You feel s'good" grunting as he slowly pushes in, letting you adjust to his girth. "Always do" 

He presses a gentle kiss to your sweaty hairline. 

"Tell me how it feels"

"Good" you mewl. "Big"

"Ain't that right" he chuckles.

"Need it all. Please" and you grip his neck tightly, arms around it. His nose brushes against yours as he grunts out a You little minx. "Want it, Joel. I can take it"

He bottoms out. "Then do"

"Fuck" you curse, cunt stretched to adapt to his girth. You breath in painfully, and Joel's eyes lace with concern. "I-It's fine"

"Sure? I can wait"

"I’m okay" you assure him, moved by his care for you. You buck your hips. "You can move"

He starts by setting a slow pace, taking all the space insade your clutching heat. Joel groans at the sensation, your walls gripping him like a vice as he continues to move in a slow motion, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. Yet, as his arms cage you by your sides and you look at him with certainty, he picks up a brutal pace, just as you like it, slamming into you over and over again, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small bathroom.

"K-keep going" you grip his left arm. Joel lets out a hiss as your nails dig on his skin. "Feels so good"

"Good'nough for you to cum on m'dick?" he groans huskily in your ear, breath ghosting on your skin like a hot kiss. "Gonna fill you up, doll. I'll mark you as mine, now and for da' rest of y'r life"

The way his voice drips with dominance as he commands you, filled with a rough rich baritone tinted with a possesive hunger, his hips moving faster as he drives into you with force, pistoning harder is enough to set you on edge.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

"Cum f'me, baby. Let me hear ya' cryin' over my cock"

Tears. Stars. Grunts. Moans. Cum.

Your cry for his name against his lips is how you announce your orgasm, washing over you. Your walls flutter as Joel lets you ride slowly through your climax.

"There ya' go, baby. Go on, ride it" then, he pauses. His face strains. "Hold on tight. I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum. Right there, baby. Stay"

Somewhere along the moans and the writhes of your soft skin against his hard planes and soft belly, Joel asks where you want it. Inside, you hear yourself say, eager to feel all of him again, filling your insides, invading every inch of your body until a part of himself leaks into your heart. He's then blabbering as your walls and heart flutter, about kids and other things you both want but can't have. Tonight, though, as he Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come, grinding against you, making sure you feel every last spurt, every last bit of his release, you allow yourself to believe.

He pumps some shallows thrusts inside of your slick dripping cunt, emptying himself, before pulling out and looking down at you with a tired smile.

"I love you" he says again in fervent whisper, as if by repeating it, he could materialize it. "I love you so fucking much, y/n. And if ya' can't accept that, can't believe in that, then... then I'ont know what the fuck I'm gonna do. 'Cause I can't lose ya', baby. I can't"

"You won't" you don't know why it comes so easy, or why the promise slips as natural as a breath. "I'm here, Joel Miller. You won't lose me"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

[xoxoaugust]

holidays

pro footballer!rin itoshi x childhoodbsf!reader

now playing : holidays by Conan Gray

-▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

years have passed since the two of you have seen each other

December 23rd, 2023

You have just landed at the airport, frankly exhausted and drained. Visiting home for the holidays after maybe five years of being away for school, now work. You called your mom, telling her that you’ll be home in a bit since you had just landed.

Tightening your coat around you, you walked out of the airport to find your uber to finally take you home. Sniffling a bit from the cold and taking in the scenery, your mind drifts off to old memories. Snowball fights and putting up wreaths, you really missed it, you missed being a naive little kid.

Your nostalgic break was interrupted by your uber, which finally pulled up to take you home. Staring out the window, you would mentally point out buildings that you remembered from five years ago. Your school, your favorite store, favorite restaurants. You snapped out of the daze you were in and checked your phone for any texts. It was around midnight so you assumed there wouldn’t be any, but unbeknownst to you, a text from an unexpected send would be waiting for you.

12:47 AM

no caller ID

Hey, is this y/n?

You

Who is this??

no caller ID

I don’t think I need to say, I just need to know if this is y/n

You

Then you don’t get to know if this y/n

no caller ID

This is Rin Itoshi.

You

Rin???

Rin Itoshi

Yes?? Can I know if this is y/n now?

You

Yes it’s me, it’s been a while! I haven’t seen you in ages

Rin Itoshi

Yeah I know, I wanted to ask if you’re back in town for holiday season

You

Yeah I am, im gonna be here for around two weeks!

Rin Itoshi

I’m here for two weeks too, we should catch up soon

You

Of course! Let me know if you have a place to go!

Rin Itoshi

👍

You caught yourself smiling at your phone, same old Rin.

You still remember how your childhood best friend was then, and he hasn’t changed. The same considerate nature, the cold demeanor hasn’t changed but his heart was always in the right place. He was always thinking of others, he was the first to remember what people liked and disliked.

In elementary school, people thought he was weird. Falling over on purpose, for fun? Or maybe attention? It was weird, but you didn’t care. You would fall over with him, you would give him bandaids, making sure you always had matching bandaids. You watched him play soccer with his brother, in awe of his talent. You were his number one supporter through and through. The two of you always got popsicles together, that was your favorite thing to do after every hangout. Rin treasures those memories, getting popsicles with you and his older brother.

In middle school/junior high, the two of you got even closer, inseparable even. Everyday after school, the two of you would go off and do whatever. Get food, play soccer, stop by that one cafe that served the coffee that was too bitter for the two of you, so you’d end up getting hot chocolate and writing latte on the cup. Those were the days you’d never forget. You remember going to the airport with Rin to say goodbye to Sae. You also remember how Rin’s face was dull afterwards, so you took him to get popsicles. That’s when you vowed to yourself that you would never let him feel sad like that again.

Come high school, things hadn’t changed between you two, until Sae’s return. Prior to Sae’s return, you would hangout after school at the fields to help him get better at soccer, then go to his house so he could get changed, then go to the cafe so you could “study”. You always had to order for him because he was always too tired to say anything to anyone other than you. Then he would complain about the coffee being too bitter and tasting weird. You would roll your eyes and tell him to order something else, but he never did. That was your little routine everyday for about a year, until Sae. One day he had told you that we would be practicing a little extra that day so you should just wait at the cafe. You waited maybe two hours before deciding to go to the field to make sure he’s okay. News flash, he was far from okay. As you approached the field, you saw two figures conversing. It didn’t take you a while to realize it was Sae, you had grown up with him so you knew it was him. You looked at Rin directly, an unusual distressed look on his face. Before you could move any further, Sae started dribbling the ball to the goal. You watched the situation unfold before your eyes in horror. The defeated look on Rin’s face made it a thousand times worse. You watched Sae walk away, leaving Rin on the ground in shambles. Within seconds, you were on the field in front of Rin, trying to comfort him, trying to make him laugh or smile in any way. He didn’t smile, or laugh at all, he didn’t smile or laugh as much onwards. Your daily hangouts went from fun and laughter and conversation, to just soccer. You missed your Rin a lot, but you knew that he needed someone to rely on. You were always there to listen to what he had to say or complain about. It wasn’t long before he was offered a spot at Blue Lock, and you were off to college. You hadn’t kept in touch, mostly because he wasn’t allowed a phone and you had changed your number since then, plus you went to college in London m. It had been five whole years since you two had spoken, at all.

Your daydreaming was cut short when the Uber had finally pulled up to your driveway. You thanked the driver and grabbed your luggage. Taking in the reality that you’re actually back home, you smiled seeing how everything is just as you left it. You sighed contently, your breath visible due to the crisp cold weather outside. Walking up to the steps of your front patio, you felt warm inside. Everything was blissful as it was, just like when you were younger. Ringing the doorbell, your mother opened the door excitedly, ushering you inside. Though it was your first time back home in a while, your family had come to visit you a few times since you were too busy to go visit them, but it had still been a while since you had seen them. You sat down on the couch in the living room, a cup of hot cocoa in your hands (courtesy of your mother) catching up with your siblings. It was maybe 2:15 AM when you had said goodnight and went to your room. Your room was the same, nothing was moved, definitely cleaned but not moved. You placed your bags in the corner of your room, deciding to take a quick shower after smelling yourself. The ‘quick shower’ was 45 minutes. You got dressed and flopped onto your bed, slightly sore from the uncomfortable plane seats. You picked up your phone to place it on the charger.

3:04 AM

Rin

Hey, does Cherrywood work for tomorrow?

You

Yes! What time do you prefer?

Rin

Does 3:30 work for you? I know you’ll be tired from jet lag.

You

Yes that works! I will see you then, bye!!

Rin

Bye :)

You smiled at your phone before setting it down on the bedside table and falling fast asleep.

That same morning, you woke up around 11:30 AM. The exhaustion in your body had left, but you were physically sore. You mustered the energy to get up and make a coffee and a light breakfast, knowing that you would meet with Rin soon for a late lunch anyway.

You noticed the extra energy you were spending on getting ready. The strong perfume you had applied, remembering that Rin liked strong and bold perfumes. The extra jewelry and effort into your look was evident. You weren’t doing it for him, not for attention or anything, it was for you. You and Rin were eerily similar but just as different. You liked soccer, so did he, but he was obsessed with it. He liked strong perfumes very much, and so did you. It wasn’t liking something because someone likes it, but finding common ground and interest with a close friend.

The clock struck three o’clock and you got into your car, driving towards the place you knew oh so well. Having thirty minutes of leeway, you knew you only really had fifteen, because Rin was never late, on the contrary he was always too early for his own good. You finally reached the little cafe and parked in the spot right next to your favorite cherry blossom tree, it wasn’t in bloom but it still looked beautiful. Staring at the big sign at the front labeled Cherrywood, you smiled to yourself, memories flushing back to you.

Cherrywood Cafe was yours, and Rin’s. It was the cafe you had always gone to, everyday. You had made so many memories there, the owners knew you by name and order, they always thought you were a couple. You still remember the times Rin would surprised you on your birthday with a little set up at the cafe. Good times.

You walked inside, the owner recognized you instantly.

“Oh my goodness! You have grown so much my dear!”

You loved that sweet old lady, she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

“Come come, your boy is waiting for you.”

You instantly felt the warmth creep up to your cheeks, because you knew exactly who she was talking about. She dragged you over to the table in the corner with the large window, which had little succulents on the sill. There he was, Rin Itoshi in all his glory. He stared at you with so much intensity you thought you would puke. He stood up to greet you, well he got tall.

“Oh! Hello, it’s nice to see you.”

Well he is awkward as always.

“It’s nice to see you too Rin.” You gleamed.

The two of you sat down in awkward silence for a bit, and the food had arrived before you started the conversation.

“So how have you been, I know you’re a big shot soccer player now, how’s that going for you?” You smiled.

“It’s great honestly, not too bad, minus the paparazzi.” He said with a blank stare.

You nodded in acknowledgment, the silence was slowly creeping back in.

“How about you? What do you do now?” He asked.

“I am a physical therapist, I just completed my clinical studies. I had my white coat ceremony a while back, now im in the field. I actually get a lot of athletes, I think I met a friend of yours.” You rambled.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you meet?” He asked, it felt more like an interview.

“He was eccentric for sure, I think his name was…Shidou im not sure it was a while back.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. You stared back with a puzzled look on your face.

“Did I say something wrong?” You questioned

He sighed before starting.

“It pains me that you think that he is my friend, I would never, and I mean never, consider him my friend.”

That statement elicited a chuckle from you.

“And why is that?”

He frowned.

“You met him, he’s such an odd person.”

You laughed even harder.

“Yeah I noticed he has an obsession with Sae.”

You didn’t know what you were starting. It was like Rin was waiting for this moment his entire life.

“Right? It’s so…odd. If you like a person and you think they are talented, don’t start jumping on them and saying odd shit, on live television too. He is a PR nightmare.” He rambled on about how weird Shidou was.

You don’t think you had laughed at someone complaining this hard. Somewhere in the ramble, Rin laughed a bit too. When he finally stopped, you were still laughing, he was then just staring at you. He was too busy listening to your laugh.

“Wow you have the same laugh from when we little.”

Well that caught your attention.

“Really?” You replied

He nodded with a small smile on his face.

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed much.” He continued.

You smiled, not knowing how to respond. He was never one to be super nice, just respectful enough to get by. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like him, and his compliments.

“You changed for the better, you’re smiling more.” You complimented back.

His smile slightly fell, your smile also fell when you noticed.

“Keep smiling, it suits you.” You quickly added before finishing the last bite on your plate.

Rin had always been ghastly pale. Even being an athlete, he was very fair and it was probably one of his biggest social weaknesses. This is because, his face would turn bright red at any given moment, he could be embarrassed, shy, angry, surprised and everyone could tell, because his face had changed colors. He tried to cover it up, but as you said that, his face instantly turned pink. You pretended to not notice so he could save face but it was no use. You giggled a bit, slightly poking fun at him.

You two finally finished your lunch, getting up to pay for the meal, you insisted on paying. As you went to give your card, Rin snatched it from you and gave his instead. He handed the card to you, not uttering a single word. Walking out of the cafe side by side, he broke the silence.

“I had fun, we should stay in touch.”

“I did too, and we should, let me know if you’re ever in London.” You nudged his shoulder.

“I will I promise.” He held out his pinky, securing it with yours. He hesitated before continuing.

“You should come to one of my games, I’ll seat you in VIP.”

You looked at him, surprised and giddy.

“Oh my gosh Rin id love to see one of your games!”

He smiled, blushing furiously, he was so glad it was cold outside.

You guys parted ways again, but not for long. You texted everyday, called frequently even on busy days. You stayed in touch, a little too much maybe. When he played a game in London, you attended, sitting in the nice VIP front seat. He kept glancing your way, trying not to make it obvious so the media wouldn’t get any ideas, he already had plans to ask you out, he didn’t want rumors to ruin that.

When he won the game (obviously) he met with his team and then quickly ran over to you, telling you to meet him outside the stadium in the staff parking lot.

You stood there for maybe 15 minutes, waiting for Rin in front of his car. Then, a pair of hands came up and covered your eyes. A smile adorned your face, knowing exactly who it was. It was a bit out of character for him, but you weren’t complaining. When he lifted his hands off your eyes, you finally turned around, looking straight at Rin, who had a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a small box. He looked handsome as ever. You gasped, mouth agape, you didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t say anything, instead you instantly leapt forward and kissed him. You have been waiting for this moment for god knows how long. You felt Rin’s arms pulling you into a hug, you could tell he’s been waiting for this too. When you pulled away, he gestured you to open the small velvet box in his hand. You smiled at him before taking the box and opening it. Inside was a beautiful charm bracelet, and a ring with white and teal crystals on it. You were speechless, you didn’t think this day could get any better, until he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing a matching bracelet and ring on his hand. You hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe properly for a bit, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was living his dream now, dream job and dream soulmate.

And it wasn’t long before you and Rin had to switch those matching rings for another set, this one had diamonds though.

xoxo, august

[harrywavycurly]

I still think about how soft Harry turned for his sunshine girl and I imagine all the random voice notes he’d send her during the day when he can’t call her or maybe the voicemails he’d leave and how sweet his little rants would be😩🥹

Hiii babes!! I miss my little lovey dovey HWC Harry so I’m gonna give you some examples of his rant-ish voicemails and voice notes to his sunshine girl! I hope you enjoy!!💖

Find all things Handle With Care here✨

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Summary: These are some voice notes and voicemails your lovely ex frat daddy boyfriend Harry sends you during the week✨

Monday’s Voice Note: “Good morning sunshine it’s…uhh shit…oh sorry don’t be mad…ah okay it’s seven fifteen in the morning and I’m about to go for a run and then come see you before you go to work. I hope you slept good? How did that weird sleepy tea taste? Did it work?…m’not totally sure all those things are actually good for you but if they help then I’m all for it because my sunshine girl needs her full eight hours or she’s a bit prickly…but I don’t mind when you’re a little grumpy..makes you more cuddly and we both know how I feel about cuddling so-oh bloody hell why is all my coffee gone? m’gonna kill that Irish fuck-I mean I love you baby I’ll see you in a bit…I wonder if you’re dreaming about me right now? Hmmm…you’ll have to tell me what you dreamt about when I see you. Love you!”

Tuesday’s voicemail: “Hey baby I’m just seeing if you’re free for dinner tonight? I forgot you had a meeting during lunch today so just call me back whenever you can…I miss you…oh and I love you…yeah okay that’s it. Love you…I already said that didn’t I? Oh well you can hear it again…I love you…bye sunshine.”

Wednesday’s voicemail: “I am so sorry I couldn’t walk you to work this morning I forgot to set an alarm and when I woke up I saw all your missed calls and…god I’m-shit I’m so late…I’m sorry sweetheart but I hope you have a good day and I’m going to come see you for lunch! I’ll bring your favorite…I love you! I’ll see you soon! Make sure to save a few smiles for me okay? Don’t give them all away…love you.”

Thursday’s Voice Note: “Goodnight my sunshine girl…thank you for letting me pick the movie tonight even though it’s technically your night…I love you and I can’t wait until you finally stop telling me no when I ask you to move in because we both know you want to live with me…or maybe it’s that we both know I really really hate not being able to wake up next to you everyday..two floors of separation is killing me baby and I know one day soon…you’ll just stop fighting it and just accept the fact we are going to be together forever so might as well start forever as soon as we can…and before you say anything yes I stole parts of that from when Harry met Sally but it’s the truth…remember when you said you’d be okay with the wife thing after our first kiss? Well that was almost a year ago…but anyway…I love you…a lot…actually it’s more than just a lot but there’s not a word to describe the amount so…a lot will just have to do for now…I know you’re just now getting out of your bath and putting on all your lotions and potions that make you all soft and uhg…I miss you…fuck this…ohh sorry baby…let me just grab my sweatshirt and—where are my socks? Oh okay here they are…I’ll be there in three minutes and forty five seconds…prepare for a sleepover because I miss you too much. I love you! Don’t fall asleep before I get there!”

Friday’s Voice Note: “Hey sweetheart did you know Niall has a key to your apartment? I didn’t until he walked in while I was in the living room and he scared the shi-crap out of me…when did he get a key? Did he steal it from you?…oh and I’m making pizza for dinner does that sound good? I hope you’re having a good day at work…Miss you and love you like crazy.”

Saturday’s Voicemail: “Hey baby…m’a little drunk but s’all Niall’s fault and god I love you. I’m gonna marry you when you finally let me. But you know that yeah? Yeah…yeah you know that…god hallways are so long and…and ugly? Why are the hallways so hideous? M’gonna come cuddle you is that okay? If it’s not just…kick me off the bed okay? Yeah..yeah I’ll see you soon sunshine…my sunshine..you smell like flowers and sunshine because you’re my sunshine girl…that I love so…so much a lot…m’gonna go now okay? M’at the door! Love you!”

Sunday’s Voice Note: “Baby where are you? You just left me in bed with a bottle of water and some aspirin with a note on my forehead saying…br…feast? That’s…that’s not a real word?…wait oh it says…breakfast…did you go get breakfast? God I’m so lucky that you’re my…my everything…you’re too good to me. I’m gonna go shower because I smell like the floor of a shitty bar…but I love you and miss your cute face so hurry back? Please?”

[knowbites]

　✶　SPRINGTIME LONGING　｡｡　feat.ㅤhan jisung

　────　as soon as he meets you, he's head over heels . . .

⠀ pairing.⠀⠀han jisung x f!reader⠀wc.⠀⠀3 k words ⠀ genre.⠀⠀fluff⠀cw.⠀⠀not really, it's a cute love at first sight fic, bridgerton inspired. mention of little wounds tho ( scratches, really ) & minho 's soonie is a paid actor here!

an.⠀⠀happy saturday .. and happy bday to @cinhomi ! hi my sweet rora, this is for youu! i know it's short, and just an edited version of an old fic of mine, but this is one of my fav works out of all i've written so far, and i wanted to gift it to you. i hope you like it 🤍

The carriage stopped, and Jisung didn't wait for the coachman to open the door before jumping out. He was late, and although it wasn't unusual, his old friend Minho would kill him if he didn't show up on time.

He didn't bother to look at his pocket watch as he walked the cobblestone path of the Lee manor's entrance, hands clenched into fists, and flashed a quick, apologetic smile at the housekeeper who opened the door for him before his fingers caressed the metal knocker. Her eyes, wrinkled with years, narrowed into two crescent moons at the sight of him, a smile curved with amusement: she had watched him grow up, had memorised his habits. The Lord Han she knew would never have arrived on time, even if he had wanted to.

Jisung hurried inside, giving her a brief grin as he felt the housekeeper taking the hat from his head to put it away, and paused for a moment to take a deep breath of air. The hall was empty, the only source of noise being the bustle coming from the kitchen, and Jisung knew that the guests had already been moved to the garden. According to the thorough planning that characterised his friend's mother, the gathering on the beautiful outdoors patio would lead to a long-awaited ‘welcome home’ meal, and Minho would surely notice his absence.

Shit.

He hurried through the hallways, the rustle of the fabric of his pants like a steady tune that followed the firm thuds of his footsteps on the marble floor, the soundtrack of a march that haunted him until he reached the big blue room. He had spent many afternoons playing with Minho in that place, scampering around the sofas and the servants, sneaking in and out to wallow in the grass, and he could almost feel the tightness in his throat closing up, as if he had just run with his friend to the oak tree by the lake and back.

He stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath to calm the erratic beating of his heart, flattening the lapels of his suit jacket against his chest. He wanted to think that the shaking in his hands was the effect of a day too cold and a coat not thick enough, but the weather had changed in the last few weeks and there was no snow left that hadn't melted. Jisung closed his eyes. He knew it was a side effect of his lack of social skills. He just didn't know why he kept arriving late to places when it made him so uncomfortable to have to enter a room full of people totally alone.

Then he realised that on that occasion it was the garden that was full of people, and he was the one who remained in a room, and he chuckled, shaking his head. What an idiot. He would be fine. Plus, he knew the Lee family—it wasn't going to be that bad.

Jisung opened the glass door carefully, almost afraid of shutting himself in, though he was not sure whether he was terrified of not being capable of getting out or of being unable to get in, and measured his steps as he made his way out into the courtyard. The first to notice his presence was Lady Lee, Countess of Gimpo, and on her face was drawn a beautiful toothy smile that Jisung could not help but mirror on his own lips, walking towards her when she quickly gestured for him to approach her.

The Countess ignored the panicked face of the butler, who should have announced Jisung as soon as he had arrived, and instead greeted him effusively and affectionately, pleased with his answers, his easy laughter and the myriad of promises about organising a gathering with his own mother as soon as possible.

Minho and his family had been travelling during the coldest months of the year, and now that the first rays of sun heralded warmer days in its most comforting form, they had finally returned, to enjoy the few months of heat before the new courting season began. And Jisung couldn't wait to hug his best friend again, even if it meant putting up with all the jokes about the experience he had gained in Europe and how little he had been missed. It was part of who Minho was, all the teasing, the sharp smirks, and the least he could do was get to his welcome back event on time, which… Well, he hadn't been able to do.

Lady Lee's attention gradually slid from her son's friend to the man she had been chatting with before, and Jisung took it as the signal to withdraw, offering a respectful bow towards them and walking away. He tried to —finally— find Minho in the crowd, but there was so much hustle and bustle and so many people that he felt overwhelmed, nervousness creeping back into his system, so he decided to wander to the margins of the patio, where waiters were standing by with trays, ready to serve the dishes as soon as the lunch was announced.

From the outside it was much easier to find Minho, distinguishing his broad shoulders among the people, moving in laughter at his companion's words. He smiled, recognising every curve of his best friend's back, the confidence in his posture, the heat rising to his cheeks as Jisung realised how big Minho had become, and saw the soft waves of his dark hair move in rhythm with his laughter. And he saw you, the companion, giggling too, covering your mouth with an expert twist of your fan, your cheeks flushed, in front of Minho. And when you looked at him, for a minute he forgot how to breathe.

Because looking into your eyes was like listening to a melody. He could hear the quartet that Minho's mother had chosen for the event playing from the little wooden platform by the lake, but it was a completely different tune than that. Your gaze, cheerful and serene, sang of mischievous breezes swaying the treetops at will, of dances without music barefoot on the grass and of the warm rays of the sun kissing your skin. You brought the spring with you, that spring that filled him with life and hope after a harsh winter, and as he lost himself in your shinny pupils, standing among the multitude, he wondered how his heart had been able to beat until that moment when it hadn’t had you to beat for.

“Hey, Ji!” Minho called his name, following your gaze, and approaching him in a couple of steps, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

Minho was dry in words, but his actions showed clearly enough how he truly felt.

Jisung's body reacted with the force of habit, relaxing into his hold with a quiet sigh, letting himself be embraced by the soothing warmth of Minho’s arms, but immediately tightening his grip on him, as if he was afraid that he would get back on that ship with the sudden desire to travel again. He couldn't allow it, he wouldn’t, at least for a long time. Unless they went together, that is. And after one last squeeze he let him step away, Jisung's hand firm on Minho's back, as Lee's only son turned to you.

“This is Lord Han, as I told you,” he explained, and you bowed before him, lowering your head with a lingering smile curving your lips. Jisung wanted to kiss that smile into his mouth, but he cleared his throat instead, trying to fill his mind with other —more appropriate— thoughts.

“Milady here wanted to visit our city,” he continued, offering his hand to you, waiting for you to rest it over his, and squeeze it with a familiarity that made Jisung’s heart sting, “so I proposed to her to travel back with us and stay for a while. She was the girl I told you about in my last letter.”

The last letter that had arrived that morning, and that he hadn't read because he was arriving late.

“Then you were absolutely right, my brother,” Jisung uttered, his words withering in his tongue as he linked the word ‘propose’ between you and Minho, “you were going on a trip to try and find beautiful views out there in the world. You truly discovered the most breathtaking one.”

Minho gave Jisung a playful punch on the shoulder, his chest filling with pride, ready to affirm any compliment his friend could mutter about you, but he stopped when he saw you addressing Jisung, your voice delicate and honeyed, still hidden behind your fan. 

“My lord really praised your composer skills during our trip here,” you whispered, averting your magnetic gaze from his as if you were having trouble bearing the knowledge that Jisung was observing you, completely stunned, but also desperate to continue any kind of conversation with you. “He forgot to add how much of a gentleman you were.”

But just before either of you could utter a single word, you heard Lady Lee drowning out a terrified shout, standing by the terrace, completely overpowered, and a spark of furious orange fur running across the grass like a shooting star in the darkest night. Minho gasped, and Jisung knew. His cat.

You were the one who took the initiative, unaware of the startled glares, smashing your fan into Minho's chest and grabbing the hem of your dress in one swift move. Before Jisung could realise he was chasing after you, both of you followed the mischievous creature at a fast pace, ignoring the calls of the rest of the men at the event. Jisung stared at your back, starstruck, breathing caught in his throat as he realised you were faster than him, heart rate increasing every second that passed in his hasty run. The only thing he could comprehend was that it wasn't the first time he had dealt with Minho's cats, that they knew him, and that for them you were a stranger. It would be his fault if the animal got stressed in your presence and ended up hurting you.

The hurried race took you both to the forest adjacent to the Lee property, and by the time Jisung spotted your figure among the foliage, he froze. Your elaborate bun had come loose, your flowing hair falling over your shoulders, and you had your dress pulled too far up your thighs, fully prepared to climb the tree where Soonie was waiting, curious about what you were doing.

Jisung couldn't think. He didn't know if you had heard him arrive, if you had even been aware that he had chased after you, but he didn't care. He could only focus on the smooth skin he was witnessing —more than he had ever seen in his life— contrasting with the darker colour of your dress. You didn’t seem uncomfortable being barefoot, your low heels abandoned among the thick roots of the weeping willow, one foot resting on a gap between the folds of the robust trunk and your hands holding tightly to the lowest branches.

It would be difficult to reach Soonie, he thought, because its branch, although low, was too thin for a human, even dangerous with the way it was located above the lake. Jisung could understand why the cat had chosen that tree. He also liked the way its leaves swayed in the wind, and it really did look like a giant feline toy, but Soonie and his two brothers already had scratching toys and little houses in the manor, all handmade by Minho. The adventure had to end before something went wrong.

He had wanted to warn you of his presence, but a leaf creaked under his boots, alerting you, scaring you, and making you lose focus on your tightrope walk along the branch below Soonie's. You lost your balance completely, and Jisung saw your hands trying to grab onto something, anything, before falling into a loud splash on the edge of the lake. Jisung would have laughed if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

Jisung stated in his place, paralysed for a second. He would have laughed, if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

He rushed over to where you were, mumbling a string of “I'm sorry’s” as you quickly emerged from the water, taking a breath of oxygen, desperately holding onto the hand Jisung was offering you. Your hair formed spirals in the water, floating around you, just like your dress. The water was up to Jisung's waist, but he felt so overstimulated that he wasn't able to process how he had just gotten his pants wet. All he could think about was that your gloves had torn, and that he was touching your skin, the soft but bloody skin of your outstretched hands, and that you were so close he could feel your rapid breathing against his body.

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were popping into his head, and pulled you lightly so you could stand up. Only instead of getting angry with him, blaming him for spying on you, your lips curved into a smile, and you let out a crystalline laugh, closing your eyes and relaxing your shoulders in front of him. You were the picture of happiness, cheeks still rosy and your chest rising and falling against the corset at full speed. Even he felt on edge, with adrenaline bubbling against his ribcage.

“There’s no need to be sorry, lord Han” you whispered under your breath, your eyes falling over him, Soonie purring above your heads. “It was a funny accident. I shouldn't have tried to climb so high.”

You weren't apologizing for running away, Jisung noticed, and he couldn't help but widen his smile at it. He was getting lost in your gaze again, too captured by you, and everything was going too fast. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he didn't want to stop. At least until he realised that you were getting goosebumps, and the first shiver ran through you. He cursed himself for not having acted sooner, and helped you out of the lake with difficulty, the ground on the shore completely muddy under your bare feet and his heavy boots.

Jisung avoided looking at you as he turned slightly to take off his expensive suit jacket, ready to give it to you, but when he turned to offer it to you, he saw that you were removing your dress. He rushed to put his jacket over your shoulders before you could continue, shame creeping up his neck and leaving a trail of blush in its wake, and you flashed a mischievous smile, fully aware of it.

“I’m not going to end up naked in front of you, lord Han” you assured him, grabbing the thick fabric of your dress and leaving it on the grass, the figure of your body crafted by the thin white nightgown you wore underneath, before snuggling into Jisung's warm black blazer, “you should court me before we get there.”

Your words snapped Jisung out of the haze he was in, suppressing the urge he had to run his hands along your arms to help you warm up, and he picked up your dress and shoes from the floor, keeping his hands well occupied. He was a gentleman, he shouldn't… He had to involve you both in situations appropriate for a young lady like you. Not in an improvised swim, where you were going to end up so... God, so delicate and delicious, looking at him that way.

But he couldn’t. He couldn't continue with that train of thought. Not when everyone knew where you were, when Soonie was judging you two among the roots of the tree, approaching Jisung with the confidence of having found a familiar human. Before he could get any closer, you crouched down, holding out your fingers so he could smell them. It took a suspicious look and realising that Minho's cologne was still soaked in your skin to accept being held in your arms, sticking to your body to provide you with more warmth.

Jisung had to remember to buy Soonie more treats the next time he visited Minho.

“Are you coming?” you asked, oblivious to the way the vision you were was killing Jisung inside, you in his jacket, with that cheeky smile, your hair a wet mess, but still looking so beautiful.

Still, he nodded, treasuring every second in his memory. One look, and you had cast a spell on him. He would follow you wherever you asked as long as you were the one to guide him. He felt like he was in the verge of a cliff, knowing you now held his heart in your hand as easily as you had taken Minho's cat, knowing that if you broke it it would hurt more than a bad cut with a rusty knife. He had fallen catastrophically, but he was sure it would be a pleasure to be irrevocably yours if you'd let him.

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© mars.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🔭 ˚. ⋆͏

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-seven

1731 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four twenty-five twenty-six

“Steve!” Tommy all but screams into his ear and he tries his best not to flinch. “What’s the rush, man?” he asks, using his grip to spin Steve to face him. 

Steve rolls his eyes and shrugs the teen’s arm off from where he slings it over his shoulders. He crosses his arms. “There’s no rush, Tommy - just not really anything to stick around for, you know?” 

Tommy stares at him blankly for a fraction of a moment before taking a step back and chuckling. It’s kind of forced, if Steve’s being honest. 

Tommy throws his arms out and gestures around them. “Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it?” His arms drop back to his sides and any hopes Steve had of this being a short interaction are thwarted when Tommy leans against the bimmer with a sigh.

“Anyway, what’re you doing right now? ‘Cause I was thinking about that movie that just came out; y’know, the one with the dancing? They’re playing it at the Hawk tonight.”

“Footloose?” Steve questions, curiosity piqued. He's been wanting to go see it since it began screening - which Tommy definitely knows. “Oh man, I totally would. It’s just my… my mom. Yeah. She, uh, has me doing a bunch of shit around town today. Won’t be home ‘till way later.” 

It’s not his best work, but it’ll have to do. 

Tommy nods along, no stranger to seeing Steve act as his parents’ errand boy. “No worries, man. Maybe next time,” he suggests. 

For the first time in this interaction, Steve relaxes. His shoulders slump and he slaps Tommy’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Next time,” he agrees with a grin. 

Once Tommy has bound off to God knows where, Steve finally sinks into his seat and lets out a sigh as he starts the car. 

Here goes nothing.

When he gets home he almost expects his house to have changed since he’d left this morning - he prepares for the worst but the house is as spotless as it always is. His parents make sure of it. 

Well. His parents make sure he and Megan take care of it. On top of Steve’s chores, his parents hired Megan to stop by every weekend to deep clean the house. 

Steve also suspects his parents ask her if he’s doing his part; there have been multiple occasions where he decides to slack off a little and he sure gets an earful whenever it is his parents next grace their son and Hawkins with their presence. 

Hilariously, Steve recalls the joke Eddie had made on Monday about the maid taking the week off. 

Maybe he won’t mention Megan to Eddie. 

Speaking of Eddie - he should be here any minute now if he didn’t make any stops along the way.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, he hears the rumble of an engine making its way up his driveway. Steve freezes in panic even though he knew this was happening. He jumps at the loud - albeit muffled - sound of a car door slamming. He still hasn’t managed to get his shit together by the time a knock sounds from the front door. 

He doesn’t want to keep him waiting on the front steps, though, so he makes his way over and swings the door open with a smile that drops when he’s only met with the back of Eddie’s head. 

“Eddie,” he beckons - it comes out more like a question. 

The boy in question turns from where he’d been looking, raising his brows and throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “‘Your neighbors always this vigilant, or is it just for little ‘ol me?”

Peering over his shoulder, Steve winces and waves at the house across the street where Mrs. Robinson is standing on her porch with her arms crossed. 

She had taken it way too seriously when his mother had said You’ll keep an eye out for my Steve, won’t you? the first time the woman had called her with ‘concerns.’ 

Not wanting to give her the chance to march over and demand answers, Steve grabs Eddie by the arm and hastily pulls him past the threshold. Steve shuts the door and locks it for good measure. He peers out of the peep hole and once he’s sure they’ve mostly dodged her ire, he exhales and turns to Eddie at his right. 

“... So,” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair, “are you hungry?”

Eddie shakes his head with his lips parted slightly.

Steve forces himself not to let his eyes linger there. 

“Thirsty?”

Steve’s enraptured as Eddie’s face slowly creases up with a grin. He shakes his head again. His hair sweeps across his shoulders with the movement. 

Eddie’s head tilts down and Steve follows his gaze to where his own hand is still latched around Eddie’s forearm. The grip is light, and Steve realizes in horror that he's begun to - fucking - caress him there with his thumb.

Steve rips his hand away and holds it to his chest like it’s wounded. “I- Uh-” he stutters. “... Coke? Water? Juice?” he echoes Eddie’s question from when they’d been at his house. 

Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head again, this time in amusement. “If you insist, I’ll do a Coke. Where are we working, Steve?”

Steve releases his hold on his breath and tries to relax. It mostly works. 

Steve’s thought this through. If they worked in the dining room, it would feel too formal and if they worked in his bedroom, it would feel too informal. The sweet spot has to be the living room. 

He leads Eddie there and gestures to all of the seating options. It’s sort of a test he’s found himself giving to his guest over the last couple years. Steve does this to everyone he has over. Where somebody sits can tell you a lot about how they’re feeling. 

Out of all of the options - the couch, the loveseat, the accent chairs, the recliners - Eddie drops his bag to the floor in front of the coffee table and then flops down right beside it. Steve has to say… he hadn’t even considered that an option. 

He tilts his head and peers down at the other teen in consideration. What the hell does the floor mean he’s feeling? This is unprecedented. 

Steve stands there dumbly until Eddie is settled and finally looks back up at him. 

“The service here is really slow, man,” he says with a grim look. Steve blinks in confusion, and Eddie must read it on his face because he laughs lightly. 

“The Coke, Harrington,” Eddie reminds him. 

Steve’s face heats up in embarrassment. “Oh.” He turns without another word and makes his way to the kitchen. He grabs a Coke for Eddie and a bottled water for himself. Before he returns to the livingroom, though, he opens the freezer and sticks his face in there to cool it down. 

On his way back, he grabs his backpack from where he’d dropped it in the foyer. Eddie has already gotten started on his work. Steve moves one of his mom’s ceramic coasters closer to where Eddie’s sitting and drops his drink there before doing the same for himself. 

Eddie thanks him, but his attention is already focused on his paper. 

Steve decides to follow Eddie’s lead and lowers himself to the plush carpet. he sits with his back against the recliner, about five feet away from the other boy. 

Steve takes his time gathering his supplies from his bag. 

He’s been anticipating Eddie bringing up his crush and the notes since he figured it out in the first place. He kind of wants to just get it over with so he can stop bracing himself for a conversation that never takes place.

He’d understood the silence at first - when they were at school and then the diner. This week has thrown him off, though. They’ve been completely alone and Eddie’s had plenty opportunity to talk if that’s what he wants. 

So, Steve has come to the conclusion that Eddie doesn’t wanna talk about it - doesn’t wanna acknowledge it out loud. 

He knows he should be grateful. Really. He should count himself lucky that he hasn’t became the town pariah yet. It’s just. 

Why doesn’t Eddie wanna talk about it? Why did he put the ring back on? What does it mean?

Just like most of the other times they’ve met up like this, they don’t talk much as they work. After about ten minutes of painstakingly refining his drawing, listening to nothing other than the sound of pencils scratching on paper and both of their soft breathing, Steve sets his drawing face-down on the carpet and rises to his feet. 

He can feel the weight of Eddie’s gaze on his back as he makes his way over to the record player. The undivided attention is hard sometimes - it feels different than when Eddie’s looking at him periodically as a reference for his drawing (don’t even get Steve started on the effect those looks have on him). 

He takes a deep breath to steady himself as he flips through the music options. Steve doesn’t put much thought into his choice - he’s kind of expecting Eddie to be a music snob no matter what he plays. When he replaces the old record with the new one, though, he can’t help but bite his lip in amusement as he imagines the boy’s reaction. 

Steve places the needle in the correct spot and hums along to the opening notes of Time After Time. His head bops to the beat as he makes his way back to his spot. He doesn’t look to see what Eddie thinks of the song, but he can feel his gaze. Only when Steve hears the sound of pencil on paper under the music does he chance a look up. He can’t be sure, but he thinks Eddie’s lips are quirked up at the sides. Is he laughing at him? ‘Cause, worth it, honestly.

With the music playing and the boys so focused on their work, neither of them hear the sound of an engine growing closer as it makes it’s way up the drive. Nor do they notice the slam of a car door. Only when the front door to the house opens and closes do they tune in to the intrusion.

Then, “Harrington, you here!?”

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

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@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[incrtz]

How many times will it take..?

Part Two

Pairing ⋆ sick! gojo x past lover! reader

Summary ⋆ After last time, you both wanted more… So, Satoru decided to give you the best birthday sex, but it feels way different this time.. more gentle.. more purposeful.

Warnings ⋆ Smut, 18+ topics, NSFW, MDNI, flirty! gojo, rough but gentle, alcohol, condescending! gojo

Word Count ⋆ 2,256

It’s been a few weeks since I had to look after Satoru. After we fucked I left since he decided to tell me he wasn't actually sick I didn't have to look after him anymore.

I'm now laying in my bed with a pack of beers, my favorite thing to do. I flick on my favorite movie, and pull my covers over me, I was about to put my head on the pillow when I was rudely interrupted by my phone buzzing. I brace myself and slide the ‘Answer Call’ button across my screen, lifting my phone to my ear before it gets blasted off.

“Ah. Hi Utahime.” I let out a deep sigh as she rambles down the phone. To be honest, I was completely zoned out until I heard her say, ‘We’re on our way. ‘My eyes widen. What? On your way, where?” I begin praying consciously, hoping she doesn't say… “To your apartment! Pay attention!” She shouts from the other end of the line.

My head falls back against my headboard as I put my fingers to the bridge of my nose, “Who is we? Who are you with?” I ask her, but I have a pretty good guess. “Satoru & Suguru for Christ's sake woman.” She scoffs, “Satoru’s… Done something. I don't know, that's why we’re coming to you.”

“I’m not a doctor. Go see Shoko.” I tell her, my patience wearing thin. “Get off your bed and get dressed, (Y/N). He's seriously hurt.” Before I knew it I was crawling out of my nice comfy bed to my closet, pulling on some loose pants and a tank top before slipping my blindfold on, I put my feet into my slippers as my door buzzes, followed by Suguru & Utahime entering with Satoru.

To my surprise, Satoru isn't injured and they're all carrying something, Suguru has a bottle of what seems to be Champagne, Utahime carrying a few gift bags and Satoru has hold of a white box. My eardrums nearly burst when they all screamed ‘Happy Birthday’ in unison. Oh yeah, I forgot.

I snicker a little before scolding them, “You made me rush thinking he got his ass kicked or something?!” I fold my arms over my chest before we all walk into my living room, Satoru places himself next to me and swings his arm over my shoulders, “Happy Birthday, gorgeous.” He hums as he kisses my forehead.

I roll my eyes and look to the side, “Yeah, thanks.” I mumble back to hum. “You’re gonna love my gift, I don't recommend opening it whilst every ones here.” He whispers into my ear. My body shudders at his tone, so sultry. “Yeah shut up,” I grumble before pushing him off me to stand up.

So somehow we've ended up all black-out drunk, dancing with the lights off in my kitchen whilst we wait for their taxis to pull up. Thankfully, Satoru actually left. To be honest I was fully expecting him to insist on staying the night since that’s what he’d usually do. I’m thankful though. I get to avoid talking to him about feelings.

I tidy up a little before pulling my eyemask off and crawling back into my bed, grabbing the box Satoru gave me. I place it gently on my lap and untie the blue ribbon, softly lifting the lid and then the tissue paper which matched the ribbon color. “Satoru.” I mumbled as I lifted the lace outfit he bought me, its light blue with basically no coverage. I think he bought me lingerie. For my birthday.

I sigh and climb back out of bed, taking the outfit with me before stripping off, gently pulling it over my legs and arms. I stand in front of my mirror, how the fuck does he know my clothing size? My mind starts wandering until my phone buzzes again, this time it's a text. A text from Satoru.

I clicked on his message, “You opened my present yet?;)” it read. I snicker a little. My mind is blurred from the alcohol because I'm pulling out the camera app, taking a photo of myself in the lingerie he got me. I cover my face with the phone and cross my legs, sending it to Satoru. I immediately close my phone and leave it on the bedside table whilst I undress and get ready for bed.

Once I’m tucked under my comforter I peel my phone off my bedside table, lifting the screen closer to my face when I realize Satoru sent me a pic back… he's stood in his mirror, his white Calvin Kleins hung low on his waist whilst he flexes his abs and the arm not holding the camera. If I had a drink, it would be spat out by now because Jesus Christ. I bite the inside of my lip and fold my legs, texting him back.

Satoru���s Iphone

Me: {my photo} I quite like it.

Satoru: {his photo} You like this?;)

Me: Teasing a girl isn't very gentleman-like is it, Toru?

Satoru: That right baby? D’ya want me to come back over?

I hum to myself, smirking whilst biting my finger as I message him back. I think for a minute, looking down at myself before replying.

Me: Maybe I do. How long will you be?

Satoru: I’ll be right there. Give me ten.

My smirk grows wider as I pull the lingerie back on, take my blindfold off and apply a small amount of makeup so I don't look totally ready for bed and I quickly make my bed, flattening it out before layng on it. Satoru knocks at the door and I text him, telling him to just come in, which he does almost immediately.

I hear his movements get closer to my bedroom door, my eyes burning homes through the wall as if to see him quicker. Shortly, his tall figure filled the doorway, I turned my lights off and there’s just a few lit candles dotted around my room. The flames reflect off his face as he crawls onto the bed, “Holy fuck. You look even better than the pic you sent me.” He mumbles before crawling over me, slipping himself in between my legs, and placing his hands on either side of my head. “You smell amazing.” I hum, smirking up at him before his hands begin exploring my body.

My fingers trail up his torso, unbuttoning his white shirt that he has rolled up to his elbows. His face lowers to mine, connecting our lips as he shakes his arms out of his shirt, pushing his hips into mine gently, creating some friction in-between us.

As his mouth envelopes mine, it feels as though his entire body is taking over mine, touching me where I wanna be touched, breathing onto my lips just the way I like it. My back arches as he reaches underneath me, unclipping the lace attached to my body. My palms glide down his toned torso until I hit his waistband, hooking my fingers under it as he peels the lace from me, I reach my free hand up to his face, yanking his blindfold off to join his shirt on my floor. I look him in the eyes, tugging gently at his waistband, “God. What’s gotten into you?” He smirks down at me, gently guiding the lace down my legs. “You have.” I hum back as he drops the lingerie on the floor.

“That right?” He grins as he pushes my legs apart, his palms on the back of each one of my thighs as he leans his neck down, pressing his lips to my pussy. My eyelids flutter shut as he slides his fingers in between my wet folds, his free hand sliding up to firmly press on my lower stomach. His gorgeous blue eyes connect with mine as he flicks his tongue against me.

He lifts his free hand, tracing his fingertips up my leg down to my inner thigh, gently massaging as he devours my core, “Fuck ‘Toru~” I breathe out, my voice laced with desire as his groans send vibrations through my body, my hips bucking at the sensation. I push my hand down my body, running my fingers through his luscious, shaggy, white hair and gripping, pulling his head further into me.

He lifts his head up, his lips & chin covered in my arousal as he sits up, my lips forming into a pout as he crawls over me, smirking as he sees my lip pop out of my mouth. His grin widens as he leans down, catching my lower lip in between his pearly whites. His left hand fumbles with his joggers, untying the string before tugging them down to his lower thigh, just where his boxers end. He hoists my legs onto his shoulders, his mouth covering mine once again as he tugs his boxers down, his veiny cock springing free as he lets out a sigh of relief. His palm grips his cock, slowly pumping it whilst his tip glistens with precum.

His tongue explores my mouth, reaching every untouched corner all whilst trying to cover his stifled moans. He pushes his hips forward, his tip pressing against my cunt. His mouth peels off mine as he presses his sweat-lined forehead onto mine, heavily breathing onto my lips as his dick-head finds my hole. His eyelids peel open as he gently pushes into me, my lips parting slightly as I look up at him, his eyes aren’t covered with the usual hunger, and desire that happens when we fuck, they look different, he feels different and I feel it too.

It’s as if we are trespassing, entering enemy territory.

My stomach flutters along with my eyelids as his tip hits my spot, my back arching in unison with his thrusts. The headboard of my bed begins colliding with the wall, with each push inside of me, settling me right on the edge. My head sinks into my pillows as I lift my eyelids open, his orbs refuse to look away from me as I almost hit my climax. My teeth abruptly clamp down on my bottom lip as he lifts my hips, getting a better angle to fuck my G-spot perfectly.

My teeth quickly release my lower lip and my mouth begins sputtering out all kinds of words, Satoru’s hands slide up my hips, like he’s touching the most expensive thing he's laid eyes on. My head pushes further into the pillows as I hit my climax, my legs tightening around his shoulders, “F-fuck ‘Toru..~” I practically scream out. That seems to push him over the edge too as I can now feel a sticky, hot substance coating the insides of my thighs.

Satoru leans back down, caging me in with his arms as he places a gentle, purposeful kiss on my parted lips before climbing off me, and disappearing into the bathroom. He tends to do that, I think he likes giving me aftercare because every time we’ve fucked, without fail hes always cleaned me up and made sure I was dressed and comfortable before leaving.

But this time, I decided to ask him something I've never asked him before, “Satoru. Stay the night?” I shout to my bathroom. I hear the water abruptly stop running from the tap as he re-enters, “(Y/N)(L/N). Have you just asked ME to stay the night?” He repeats, his muscular arms folded over his chest, holding a damp cloth in one of his hands. I scoff and roll my eyes, “Forget it then. Dick.”

I hear an amused chuckle escape from his lips as he gets closer to me, pressing the cloth on my cum-covered thighs, “Of course I’ll stay the night, gorgeous.” He hums, nodding along with his words as he steps back, just looking down at me.

I can’t believe I’m now curled up in my bed with Satoru Gojo, his huge arms wrapped around me whilst I use his chest as a pillow, my palm sits gently on his bare chest as the TV plays in the background. His eyes are glued to me whilst I watch, entertained at the screen.

It must've been pretty late by the time we actually slept because it’s now 2 pm and I can just about open my eyes until my brain starts attacking the rest of my body, begging me to go back to sleep. I pull myself together and sit up, looking at the empty bed next to me. I sigh, frankly, I’m quite disappointed that I’m not being woken up by breakfast in be…

“Finally.” I hear a voice tease from my doorway, my eyes glance up as a wave of relief washes over me. “You slept for hours. I was just about to wake you.” He tells me whilst approaching my bed with a plate of food, placing it gently on my lap before handing me the bottle of water he had shoved in his pocket. “Figured you’d have a hangover.” He hums as the bed sinks beneath him, he leans his back against my headboard as I thank him, letting him know he didn’t need to do this before divulging in the food, taking full advantage whilst i can.

“You know…” He trails off, his eyes watching me in amusement at my reaction to his cooking, “I got you two birthday presents.”

I raise an eyebrow, squinting my eyes a little as he answers my unspoken question, “I gave you the lingerie, and the most amazing birthday sex.”

© 2025 INCRTZ | pls don’t copy or repost w out creds on any of my works. all rights reserved.

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy

☆14: The first confession.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, smut, slow burn, angst, drama, dark romance, love triangle.

wc: 8,7k

Summary: While some battles are fought with fists, others are waged behind closed doors, where power, reputation, and control mean everything.

And when innocence is placed at the center of the storm, the lines between family and enemy blur.

Warnings: Cursing, physical violence, power dynamics, fluff.

an: We are almost at the end of the series!! I hope you enjoy the last chapters coming soon♡

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆13 ☆15: The first checkmate. Coming soon.

The waiting room smells like antiseptic and paperwork, a sterile combination that makes your stomach churn.

You tap your nails against your thigh, gaze locked on the reception desk as if willing the nurse to call your name faster.

Hongjoong sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee, a silent anchor. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell you to calm down, but his presence alone is enough to keep you grounded.

It’s been a week. A long, exhausting week of waiting. And now, it’s finally time. A nurse steps out from behind the desk, a folder in her hands.

“Miss Clarke?”

You stand immediately, legs tense, heart hammering. He follows suit, his hand finding yours, lacing his fingers through yours without hesitation.

The nurse hands you the folder with a professional smile, oblivious to the weight of what she’s just given you.

“Here are the results. Let us know if you need anything else.”

You nod stiffly, clutching the envelope as if it might slip through your fingers and disappear. Neither of you says a word as you leave the hospital.

Not even when you slide into Hongjoong’s car.

Not even when you place the envelope on your lap, staring at your name printed neatly on the front.

The tension is suffocating.

He glances at you before reaching over, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

“Pretty,” He murmurs, soft but firm. “Do you want me to open it?”

You inhale sharply, then shake your head “No.”

With careful movements, you break the seal and pull out the papers. Your eyes skim the words—test subject, percentage, confirmation—until you find it.

99.9% probability of paternity.

Your fingers tighten around the edges of the document, your breath catching.

There it is.

Proof.

The proof you needed to finally rip Mike’s perfect image to shreds.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his free hand still resting over yours “It’s real,” He says, like he already knows. Like he never had a doubt.

You nod, throat tight “It’s real.”

For a few moments, you let yourself sit in the weight of it.

Then, you exhale and fold the papers neatly, sliding them back into the envelope “Let’s go.”

✮ ⋆

Your room is dimly lit. You and Hongjoong sit on your bed, the envelope between you, a silent promise of what’s coming.

You tap the envelope once before speaking “Mike has a business trip in two days.”

Hongjoong leans back against the headboard, arms crossed “That’s when you’re telling them?”

“That’s when I’ll have the best chance,” You confirm. “If he’s here, he’ll find a way to twist everything. He’ll manipulate them, make himself the victim. I need them to see the truth without his interference.”

He nods, understanding “And you need me there.”

You look at him then, taking in the steady certainty in his eyes “I want you there,” You admit. “As a witness. As… as support.”

His gaze softens, and he reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently “I’ll be there, pretty.”

The words settle something deep inside you, a quiet reassurance that you won’t have to face this alone.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the storm outside mirror the one building inside your home.

In two days, everything would change.

And for the first time, you were ready for it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann hesitates outside Mike’s study, her hands clammy as she wrings them together. She shouldn’t be here.

She doesn’t want to be here.

But she doesn’t have a choice. With a deep breath, she knocks. A sharp ‘Come in’ Follows almost immediately.

Dann swallows and steps inside. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and his signature cologne. He sits at his desk, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp as it lands on her.

She feels like prey.

“Well?” His voice is clipped, impatient. “What is it?”

Dann shifts uncomfortably, her nails digging into the skin of her palm “I… I overheard something.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“It’s about YN.”

That gets his attention. Mike’s entire body stiffens, his sharp gaze snapping toward Dann.

“What about her?” His voice is low, laced with something dangerous.

Dann forces herself to keep her composure, though the weight of his stare makes her stomach churn.

“She… she was on the phone with Hongjoong a couple of days ago,” She begins hesitantly. “I didn’t hear much, but I caught a name.”

He doesn’t react right away. He just watches. Waiting.

Dann swallows hard “Hannah.”

The sound of glass shattering against the wall makes her flinch violently.

Her breath catches as she watches whiskey drip down the bookshelf, the remnants of the crystal glass scattered across the polished wood floor.

Mike rises abruptly, his chair scraping against the ground, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hands curl into fists. His entire body trembles with barely contained rage.

“What did you just say?” His voice is dangerously low.

Dann forces the words out, her pulse hammering “I–I heard her say they should go with Hannah. And then she left with Hongjoong. I don’t know where they went, but—”

His palm slams down onto the desk with a force that rattles the papers on top of it. Dann jumps, her entire body locking up.

“You’re sure?” His voice is tight, seething.

She nods frantically “Yes. She said it clearly.”

Mike’s breathing turns ragged, his chest rising and falling too fast. The room is heavy with his fury, suffocating.

That bitch.

He told Hannah to disappear. He made sure of it. There was no way you could have been in contact with her.

Unless…

His stomach twists with something unfamiliar—something dangerously close to dread.

What if Hannah never left?

What if—

His fingers dig into the desk as he exhales sharply, forcing himself to think. His thoughts are spiraling, unraveling, but one thing is certain.

He needs answers. Now.

Slowly, he turns to Dann, his expression unreadable, voice cold and deliberate.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.”

Dann nods quickly, stepping back toward the door. She doesn’t need to be told twice. But before she can escape, his voice slices through the air again.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” His tone is eerily calm, but the way his chest rises and falls betrays his barely leashed fury.

Dann hesitates, a chill running down her spine. She already knows where this is going. And once again… it’s her fault.

“I… I don’t know,” She whispers.

But he’s already moving.

Without another word, Mike practically bolts from the room, his footsteps heavy with purpose.

Dann stands frozen for a second, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Then, without thinking, she rushes after him.

If she can stop him from hurting you again… maybe, just maybe, she can lessen the guilt threatening to drown her.

✮ ⋆

The moment the bedroom door slams open, you barely have time to react before Mike storms inside.

Hongjoong stiffens beside you, his entire body going rigid as he instinctively moves closer. Dann lingers by the doorway, frozen in place.

But the older one doesn't look at them. He doesn’t even acknowledge their presence. His furious gaze is locked solely on you.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” His voice is low, dangerously quiet—but you know better than to mistake it for restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, keeping your expression indifferent even as your heart pounds.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mike. I play a lot of things.”

His jaw ticks. His hands curl into fists at his sides.

“I’m not in the mood for your stupid games,” He spits. “You were with her.”

You blink, feigning confusion “With who?”

His hand moves so fast you barely see it.

The force of the slap sends your head snapping to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. The taste of blood blooms on your tongue.

Hongjoong moves before you can even react. He shoves Mike back, hard enough that he stumbles a step.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His voice is sharp, furious, his breathing ragged with anger.

But Mike barely even looks at him. Instead, he straightens, smoothing out the front of his shirt like he isn’t the least bit fazed.

Then, he steps forward again, crowding you, towering over you like a storm ready to break. You lift your chin defiantly, refusing to cower.

“Where is she?” His voice is a low growl. “Where the fuck is Hannah?”

You tilt your head, licking the cut on your lip before giving him the most infuriatingly nonchalant smile you can muster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes darken “Don’t fucking lie to me, YN.”

“Lie to you?” You scoff. “Please. If there’s anyone who’s an expert in lying, it’s you.”

Another step forward. Another inch of space stolen.

Hongjoong moves again, stepping between you and Mike this time, his stance firm, protective.

“Back. The fuck. Off.” His voice is steady, but his hands are clenched into fists, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap.

Mike glares at him, as if just now registering his existence.

“And what the hell are you going to do about it, nerd?”

Hongjoong doesn’t flinch “Try me and find out.”

There’s a heavy pause. The air crackles with tension.

And then… Mike smirks.

It’s slow, cold, calculated.

“Cute,” He mutters, voice dripping with condescension. “She’s really got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond, doesn’t rise to the bait. But you see it—the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his jaw tightens.

And then, there’s Dann.

Standing by the doorway, silent, watching.

She does nothing, says nothing.

Just like before.

And something inside you snaps. You inhale sharply, the pain in your cheek already numbing beneath the flood of anger boiling in your veins.

“I don’t have time for your theatrics, Michael,” You say, your voice eerily calm. “So unless you have anything useful to say, get the fuck out of my room.”

Mike tilts his head, his smirk widening “You’re awfully confident for someone who still flinches when I raise my hand.”

You don’t flinch this time. Instead, you step around Hongjoong, closing the distance between you and him in a deliberate, defiant move.

“You should be careful,” You whisper, eyes locking onto his. “Because one day, you’re going to raise your hand at the wrong person.”

Mike doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. And in that moment, something shifts.

A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even a sliver of doubt, crosses his expression—so brief you might have imagined it.

Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

He scoffs, rolling his shoulders before stepping back “This isn’t over,” He mutters.

You smile, sickly sweet “Oh, I know.”

With that, he turns sharply on his heel and strides out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

Silence.

Hongjoong exhales, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

Dann?

Still standing there.

Still watching.

She looks like she’s just seen a ghost—pale, eyes wide, shoulders drawn tight. Guilt hangs off her like a second skin, but you don’t give a fuck.

You exhale sharply, turning toward her with slow, deliberate movements.

“Why are you still here?” Your voice is flat, emotionless.

Dann swallows hard, her hands trembling as she grips the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

“YN, I—”

Your patience snaps “Get the fuck out.” Dann flinches, shame flashing across her face. “Did I fucking stutter?” You step forward, eyes burning into hers. “Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stands there, frozen in place, like she wants to say something—needs to—but she can’t.

Your fingers curl into fists “You stood there and did nothing. Again.” You shake your head, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a fucking coward.”

Dann’s eyes glisten for a fraction of a second, but you don’t care.

You don’t fucking care.

She chose this.

She chose to side with Mike.

And now, she’s realizing it—realizing that no matter how much guilt is eating her alive, it doesn’t change the fact that she let him hurt you.

Again.

Hongjoong, still fuming, finally speaks “You heard her,” He says, voice low and cold. “Get out.”

Dann’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. Then, after a painfully long moment she nods. Her gaze drops to the floor as she turns on shaky legs and stumbles toward the door.

She hesitates when she reaches the threshold, gripping the handle so tight her knuckles turn white.

“I never meant for it to be like this,” She whispers, voice barely above a breath.

You don’t respond. She lingers for just another second—just long enough for you to see the full weight of her regret in her expression.

Then, she steps out, and the door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

Finally, you exhale, your body collapsing on the bed.

Hongjoong’s already by your side, his hand gently cupping your face. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watching you with concern in his eyes.

You can feel the heat of his gaze, but it doesn’t comfort you—it only makes you more aware of the hurt still burning inside.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs softly, gently lifting your chin to inspect the cut on your lip.

His fingers are warm, his touch careful, and you bite down a wince when he brushes his thumb over your skin.

“I’m fine,” You mutter, your voice still hoarse from the shouting and the silence that follows.

He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he exhales sharply, shaking his head before standing up.

“Stay here,” He says firmly.

You watch as he disappears into your private bathroom, the sound of cabinets opening and closing filling the quiet room. Moments later, he returns with a small first-aid kit in his hands.

He kneels in front of you, placing the kit on the bed as he pulls out antiseptic and some cotton.

“This is going to sting,” He warns, soaking the cotton pad with the antiseptic before pressing it gently against your split lip.

You flinch, a sharp hiss escaping your lips “No shit, Sherlock.”

He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head but continuing his task with steady hands.

“You and your damn mouth,” He mutters, his tone affectionate despite his frustration.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice soothes something inside you. He finishes dabbing at the wound, then carefully applies a bit of ointment with his fingertip, his touch unbearably soft.

When he’s done, he pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if making sure there aren’t any more hidden injuries. His fingers brush your jaw, lingering for a moment.

“YN…” His voice is quiet, serious.

You exhale, knowing what he’s going to say, knowing he wants you to be honest about what’s going on.

“I’m not going to let him get away with this, Hongjoong,” You say before he can speak, your voice firm despite the dull ache in your lip.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and if my parents try to cover for him, if they try to ignore the truth and protect him, I’ll sue him.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look shocked. Just… resolute. Like he’s been waiting for you to say this.

“I’ll sue him for physical violence,” You continue, your voice steady now. “For everything he’s done to me. And for abandoning his child. If my parents refuse to see the truth, then I’ll expose it all.” Your gaze hardens. “I won’t let him pretend like this never happened. I’ll go after him for everything.”

Hongjoong lets out a slow breath, then places his hand on yours, squeezing it gently.

“I’m with you, pretty. Whatever you need.” His words are quiet, but they hit you harder than you expected.

You smile, a little softer now, though the fire in your chest doesn’t fade.

“Thanks. I can’t do this alone. I need you, Joong. I need someone who actually cares.”

He leans in closer, brushing his lips against your forehead “I’m not going anywhere, pretty. You don’t have to worry about that.”

His words are like a balm to the raw, exposed parts of you that still burn from the events of the past week.

You lean into him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you, but the battle is far from over.

And you’ll fight it until the very end.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The sound of luggage wheels rolling across the marble floor echoes faintly from the main hall. The staff murmurs in hushed voices as they move about, ensuring everything is ready for Mike’s departure.

You remain in your room, not bothering to come downstairs to see him off. You have no reason to.

But of course, that doesn’t mean he’ll leave without seeing you first.

A sharp knock rattles your bedroom door. You don’t move, keeping your gaze fixed on your vanity mirror as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss across your lips.

The door swings open anyway.

“Still sleeping in?” His voice drips with condescension as he steps inside, hands tucked into his suit pockets. “What a waste of a morning.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror, your expression blank “Did I invite you in?”

Mike chuckles, slow and deliberate as he leans against your doorframe “Oh, don’t be like that, dear sister.” His tone is almost mocking. “I’m leaving for a few days. Thought I’d be nice and say goodbye.”

You finally turn in your chair, crossing your legs as you tilt your head.

“You? Nice?” A smirk plays on your lips. “That’s new.”

His expression darkens, but he keeps his composure “Just making sure you don’t get any… stupid ideas while I’m gone.”

Your smirk doesn’t fade “Stupid ideas?” You rest your chin on your palm. “Like what? Going out with Hongjoong? Or maybe—oh, I don’t know—breathing without your permission?”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer.

“You think you’re untouchable just because Mom and Dad tolerate your little tantrums. But don’t forget, YN,” He leans down slightly, lowering his voice, “I always know what you’re up to.”

You hold his gaze, unfazed. If he’s trying to intimidate you, he’s wasting his time.

“Oh, please.” You scoff, standing up to face him properly. “If you really knew everything, you’d be a lot more pissed off right now.”

For a fraction of a second, something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty.

You smile sweetly, brushing past him toward your closet as if he’s nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing around your space.

“Have fun on your little trip, big brother.” You throw the words over your shoulder, voice dripping with fake politeness. “Try not to ruin anyone’s life while you’re gone.���

Mike’s silence lingers a second too long before he finally exhales sharply.

“We’ll see, little sister.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

The moment the door clicks shut, you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

He knows nothing.

But soon? He will.

And you can’t wait to watch his world burn.

✮ ⋆

“He’ll be gone for four days, so the dinner has to be tomorrow night,” You tell Hannah over the phone, pacing your room.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Doubt laces her voice. “Your parents always side with him… I don’t think this time will be any different.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I’m not gonna lie… I don’t expect some big revelation, but maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to make them see him for who he really is.” Your eyes drift to the stack of photos on your desk. “I already printed some pictures of Lily and me together. She looks adorable.”

Hannah chuckles “Of course she does, she’s my daughter.”

You scoff “Thank God she got your genes and not Mike’s.”

She laughs “Alright, little lady. Good luck tomorrow night. Don’t forget to update me after.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Bye, Hannah.”

Ending the call, you immediately dial Hongjoong. He picks up after a few rings.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

“What’s up?”

“Tomorrow night, I’m telling my parents about Lily.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Okay. What time should I be there?”

“Seven.”

“Got it. I’ll be there.”

With that settled, you head downstairs, finding your parents in the lounge. Your mother is sipping wine, your father reading something on his tablet.

“I was thinking,” You begin smoothly, “We should have a formal family dinner tomorrow. Something nice… and Hongjoong should join us.”

Your mother lights up instantly “Oh, I love that idea! I’ll have the chefs prepare something special.”

Your father hums in agreement, setting his tablet down “Actually, that works well. We have something important to discuss with you tomorrow night.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral.

“Oh? That’s funny. I have something important to tell you too.”

Your mother claps her hands together, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath your words.

“Perfect! Tomorrow will be a lovely evening.”

If only she knew.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next evening, the mansion is buzzing with activity. The dining room is set to perfection—polished silverware, crystal glasses, and candles flickering over the lavish spread of food.

The scent of gourmet dishes drifts through the air as house staff move efficiently, making sure everything is flawless for the ‘perfect’ family dinner.

Your mother walks past, admiring the setup with a pleased hum “This is wonderful,” She says, her red lips curving into a satisfied smile. “I want everything to be just right.”

You take a slow sip of wine, standing near the grand windows as you watch the evening sky darken. They have no idea what’s coming.

“Excited for dinner, sweetheart?” Your mother asks, adjusting one of the centerpiece arrangements.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Oh, very.”

As if on cue, the main doors creak open. You glance over your shoulder just as Hongjoong steps inside, guided by a staff member.

He looks effortlessly good—black slacks, a fitted button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms. His eyes find yours instantly, and a subtle smirk tugs at his lips.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

Your mother claps her hands together, beaming “Hongjoong! I’m so happy you could join us.”

He nods politely “Thank you for having me, Catherine.”

She waves off the formality “Oh, come now, you’re practically family.”

If only she knew how ironic that statement really was.

Before anyone can say more, the deep voice of your father cuts in “Shall we sit?”

You share a quick glance with Hongjoong before following them to the table. The air feels thick with anticipation, a silent countdown ticking in your head.

Soon, your parents will know the truth about their golden son.

Soon, their perfect image of Mike will shatter.

And soon… everything will change.

—

The atmosphere at the table is warm—too warm. Beneath the golden glow of the chandelier, tension lingers like a quiet storm waiting to break.

The clinking of silverware and the occasional murmur of conversation fill the space, but the food on your plate might as well be dust.

Your mother is in an unusually cheerful mood, delighted by Hongjoong’s presence, while your father sips his wine, listening to the flow of conversation with a composed expression. It almost feels… normal.

But you know better.

And then, your father clears his throat, setting his glass down with deliberate care.

“So, darling,” He begins, his sharp gaze settling on you. “Your mother and I have something to discuss with you.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong, who subtly reaches under the table, his hand resting on your thigh—a quiet reassurance.

“Is that so?” You say smoothly, lifting your own glass to your lips. “What is it?”

Your mother beams, leaning in slightly “It’s about Mike.”

Of course it is.

Your father nods, his voice steady, authoritative “We’ve made a decision regarding his future. He’s being named the next CEO of Clarke Enterprises.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass, but you keep your expression impassive.

“He’s been preparing for this role his entire life,” Your mother continues with pride. “This will secure not just his success, but the future of our entire family.”

You place your glass down carefully, tilting your head “You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

Your father nods with satisfaction “It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Legacy. Always the fucking legacy.

Hongjoong’s grip on your thigh tightens, sensing the storm brewing inside you. But he doesn’t stop you.

You inhale slowly, your lips curling into something that almost resembles a smile.

“Well,” You say, voice deceptively light, “Since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Your mother raises an intrigued eyebrow “Oh?”

Your father watches you carefully, his patience thin but present. You sit up straighter, meeting their gazes dead-on.

“It’s about Mike,” You begin, pausing just long enough for anticipation to settle. “And his actual legacy.”

Your mother frowns slightly “What do you mean?”

Your smile sharpens “He already has a daughter.”

Silence.

Your mother blinks. Your father’s wine glass stills mid-air.

“What… did you just say?” Your father asks, his voice eerily calm.

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you deliver the next blow.

“Four years ago, Mike had an affair with one of our housemaids. Her name was Hannah—I’m sure you remember her.”

Your mother’s expression freezes, her posture stiffening. Your father’s jaw tightens, but you don’t stop.

“When she got pregnant, your perfect son threatened her,” You continue, voice unwavering. “He told her to get rid of the baby. He forced me to lie and frame her for stealing so she would be fired. He abandoned her. Abandoned his own child.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out the neatly stacked documents and slide them across the table. Your nails tap against the top page.

“Here.” Your voice is sweet, almost mocking. “A DNA test. Pictures. Bank transactions of the money I have been sending her every month since he left her to fend for herself.”

Your mother’s face drains of color. Your father’s grip on his fork tightens so hard you hear the faint creak of metal.

You tilt your head slightly, watching their reactions with quiet satisfaction “And this is the man you want to give the entire empire to?”

Your mother’s lips part slightly, her manicured fingers reaching hesitantly for the photos. The first image is of Lily alone—her bright, round eyes, her tiny, perfect features. Then another, with you beside her, smiling softly as she clings to your arm.

Your father slowly sets his utensils down, his gaze dark “You’re lying.”

You lean back, crossing your arms “The proof is right in front of you.”

Your mother shakes her head, almost desperate now “No… no, this is—this is a mistake.”

Your father exhales sharply, rubbing his temple “Mike would never—”

“Oh, but he did,” You cut him off smoothly. “And you can either accept that, or continue pretending he’s some flawless heir.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. And then—

“This… cannot get out.”

Your blood runs cold.

You stare at your father, waiting for him to correct himself. To say something that doesn’t make you want to burn this entire house down.

Your mother finally meets your gaze, her expression unreadable “Do you have any idea what this could do to our family? To his future?”

A hollow laugh escapes you “Oh, so that’s what you care about?”

Your father sighs, as if this is just some inconvenience “Mike is going to take over the company. If this scandal comes out, it will ruin everything.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. Hongjoong tenses beside you, his jaw locked, his hand gripping your thigh in restraint.

Your mother softens her voice, like she’s trying to reason with you “YN, sweetie… we cannot let this get out. It’s not just about Mike—it’s about all of us.”

You inhale sharply, schooling your expression. You knew this would happen. You knew. And yet, their blatant dismissal still stings more than it should.

You exhale slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, collecting the documents back into your bag. “I understand.”

Your mother lets out a breath of relief “Good—”

“But let me make one thing very clear,” You cut her off, standing up. “If you try to cover this up—if you refuse to acknowledge that little girl as his daughter—I will make sure everyone finds out.”

Your father’s eyes darken “You wouldn’t dare.”

You meet his stare, unflinching “Try me.”

And they know you mean it. They know.

The air is suffocating. Your mother swallows, glancing between you and your father, tension crackling in the room.

And then, your father speaks, his voice cold.

“Go to your room, YN.” You raise an eyebrow in defiance. “Now.” His voice is sharp, commanding.

Hongjoong rises to his feet immediately, his stance protective, standing just a few steps behind you. But you don’t move at first, locking eyes with your father, refusing to back down.

The silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment, before, without another word, you grab Hongjoong’s hand. Together, you leave the dining room, the weight of the situation settling around you.

Once you step into the hallway, Hongjoong gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice quiet.

“YN…”

You shake your head, cutting him off “Not now.”

You make your way to your bedroom, and once inside, you immediately release his hand.

You walk straight to your vanity, placing the folder with the DNA test results and photos down onto the surface with precise movements, the sound of the paper rustling loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Your fingers grip the edges of the folder, your nails digging into the expensive paper as your mind races. The frustration is building up inside you, but you force yourself to breathe through it.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, the door clicking shut behind him. He stays silent for a moment, giving you space to process. He knows you need it.

Finally, he speaks softly, his voice filled with concern “Are you okay?”

You exhale sharply, turning to face him “I told you they’d cover it up,” You murmur, your voice quiet and bitter.

He steps closer, his eyes searching your face for any hint of vulnerability “Yeah... but you were still hoping, weren’t you?”

Your lips press into a thin line. Damn him for knowing you so well. You look away, arms crossed, leaning against the vanity as frustration bubbles up in you.

“I just wanted them to see him for what he really is,” You admit quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “To finally see that he’s not perfect.”

Hongjoong moves between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs.

“They’re too deep in their delusions, pretty. You can’t change them overnight.”

You exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

“Then I’ll make them see it,” You say, a fierce determination in your voice.

His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze narrowing as he looks at you.

“How?”

“I’ll bring Lily tomorrow.” You shrug, as if the plan is simple, innocent.

He frowns, his brow furrowing “Wait—what? I don't think Hannah will agree to that.”

You look at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe not, but this might pressure them into acknowledging her. They know she exists now, and there’s no reason to hide her anymore. I’ll tell them I want to spend time with her, show her the house. It's innocent.”

Hongjoong scoffs, a teasing glint in his eyes “Pretty, you and ‘innocent’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”

You grin, giving him a wink “Okay, maybe not. But still, it’s a good plan. They’ll have to deal with it when she’s right there in front of them.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, the lines of concern still etched on his face.

“And what if they freak out?”

“They won’t. They might struggle with it, but they won’t just throw her out. She’s their granddaughter, whether they like it or not.”

He studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. He shakes his head with a soft laugh.

“You’re scary when you plot, you know that?”

You smile slyly, cupping his cheek “I know. So... are you in?”

He sighs dramatically, though there’s no hiding the affection in his eyes.

“Like I have a choice.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him lightly “Nope. You don’t.”

With that, Hongjoong presses his lips to yours in a deep kiss, sealing the deal for the next move.

And just like that, the plan is set.

✮ ⋆

The hallway outside the dining room is dimly lit, the hushed murmur of voices bleeding through the heavy oak doors.

Dann stands just beyond the threshold, fingers curling around the strap of her bag. She hadn’t meant to stop. Hadn’t meant to listen.

But your voice—sharp, angry—had frozen her in place.

“You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

“It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Dann’s breath catches. Her fingers twitch.

“Well, since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Dann’s throat tightens. She’s heard this kind of bitterness from you before, but never like this.

Never so raw.

“It’s about Mike, and his actual legacy.”

His actual legacy? What are you talking about?

She knows you have every reason to be upset. But Mike had warned her—had threatened her. And yet, something in her gut twists. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be listening to this.

She turns to leave, forcing herself to step away, but then—

“Dann!”

She flinches at the sound of her mother’s voice echoing from down the hall.

Shit.

Scrambling, she ducks into a side corridor before hurrying toward the kitchen. Her pulse pounds in her ears, your words still looping in her mind.

You were furious about Mike becoming CEO.

Dann hesitates, fingers hovering over her phone. For a brief moment, she considers doing nothing. She considers keeping this to herself.

But then she remembers Mike’s cold voice in her ear. Her stomach clenches as she finally types out the message.

Dann: YN’s pissed about you becoming CEO. She’s planning something.

She stares at the text, her finger hovering over the send button. A part of her screams Don’t do this. But another part knows…

If she doesn’t, she’ll be the next one to suffer.

Her thumb presses down.

Sent.

Her heart pounds as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket.

And as she heads toward the kitchen, trying to steady her breath, one thought keeps echoing in her mind.

How much longer can I keep doing this?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The gentle hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong parks in front of the grand estate. You glance over your shoulder at Lily, who’s kicking her legs excitedly in her car seat, her wide eyes shining with curiosity.

“Alright, princess. Ready to see where I live?”

It took some convincing to get Hannah on board with bringing Lily along today, but after much persuasion, she finally agreed—though not without a threat.

If anything were to happen to her daughter, she told you, she’d make you wish you never stepped foot near her.

Lily gasps dramatically, clapping her hands “Like a castle?”

Hongjoong snorts “Close enough.”

You smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt before lifting her into your arms “Exactly like a castle. With grumpy old kings and queens inside.”

Hongjoong chuckles but gives you a look “Pretty.”

You just wink at him before turning toward the front doors. As you step inside, the staff immediately notices your little guest.

A few maids exchange surprised glances, but none dare to say anything. Then, your mother’s voice floats from the dining hall.

“YN? Darling, is that you?”

Showtime.

You adjust Lily on your hip and strut into the hall, Hongjoong right beside you. Your mother and father are already seated at the table, sipping tea like they own the world.

But the second they see her, your mother’s teacup stops midair. Your father straightens.

“Mother, Father,” You say with a polite smile, shifting Lily in your arms, “I wanted to introduce you to someone properly.”

Lily, bless her little heart, waves excitedly “Hi, I’m Lily!”

Your mother blinks “Oh… oh my.”

Your father’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets, watching carefully.

“Since you know about her now, I figured there’s no need to keep her hidden,” You continue smoothly, placing Lily down so she can run toward the grand windows. “She’s family, after all.”

The air in the room is suffocating.

Your mother glances at your father “Well, I—” She stops when Lily gasps.

“This place is so big!” The little girl spins in excitement, her curls bouncing. “I wanna see all of it!”

Your mother’s lips part, struggling, fighting every instinct she has. She glances at your father again, who is rubbing his temple.

Hongjoong nudges you slightly, whispering, “Your dad looks like he’s about to explode.”

You grin “I know.”

Your mother clears her throat, standing up “Lily, dear, would you like something to drink?”

Lily beams “Do you have chocolate milk?”

Your mother hesitates, then nods slowly “Yes… of course.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong.

Oh, this is too good.

Meanwhile, your father finally speaks, his voice even “And how long do you plan to keep her here, YN?”

You feign innocence “Just for a few hours. She should get to know where her family comes from.”

Your father sighs, rubbing his temple again. He looks like he wants to object—but what can he say? Get that child out of my house? Even he knows that would make him look bad.

And that’s when you realize—your parents are nervous. They don’t want to acknowledge her. They don’t want to accept her.

But ignoring her is impossible.

And the best part?

Mike still has no idea.

Your father exhales sharply, sitting up straighter. His voice drops into something colder, firmer.

“Darling, listen carefully.” His gaze is heavy, commanding. “Your brother will be back tomorrow.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He can not see this girl here.”

You let out a dry laugh “Why not? it's his daughter.”

Your mother nods, forcing a smile “Yes, sweetheart. But it's illegitimate.”

Your father’s expression hardens “That means you will not, under any circumstances, mention the girl’s existence.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

Lily, still holding her glass of chocolate milk, glances up at her grandmother with wide, innocent eyes. Then, in the softest voice, she speaks.

“Daddy don’t want to meet me?” Her small voice cracks slightly as she pouts, her lip trembling.

She sets the glass down and looks at them, her eyes filling with tears as she struggles to understand why the adults are acting this way. The sadness in her expression is enough to make your heart ache.

The room grows painfully quiet. You see the subtle shift in your parents’ expressions as they look at the little girl, her innocence making it harder for them to keep up their cold act.

Lily sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and then in the sweetest, most trusting voice, she adds,

“Mommy told me that daddy loves me and when he is done with work, he will meet me.”

She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world—her childlike belief in her father’s love and promise, pure and untainted by the complicated mess of adult affairs.

You feel your throat tighten as you watch Lily, and even your parents are visibly affected.

Your mother’s hand shakes slightly as she reaches for Lily, pulling her onto her lap. Her expression softens, the guilt creeping in despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.

Your father glances at your mother, his face softening just a fraction. He lets out a small sigh, clearly conflicted, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he picks up his glass, taking a long sip, as if the weight of the situation is too much to bear.

Lily’s innocent words seem to hit them harder than any argument could. And you realize—this is the beginning of something.

They can’t ignore her forever.

You lean forward, your voice still calm but filled with a subtle bite “You see, she’s not going anywhere. She’s part of the family now, whether you like it or not.”

Lily, oblivious to the tension, smiles softly and rests her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. Your mother brushes a strand of hair out of her face, and for a moment, you almost see the warmth return to her eyes.

“Let’s not pretend that we can’t move forward from this,” You add, watching them both. “She’s a part of me, and if you can’t see that, then you’re not seeing the full picture.”

Your father finally speaks, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant “We’ll see how things go.” His words are far from a promise, but it’s a crack in the facade.

A small step toward accepting the truth.

Hongjoong gently nudges your arm, his quiet support standing strong behind you.

And then, for a brief, fleeting moment, you think they might actually listen.

✮ ⋆

The afternoon stretches lazily as you, Hongjoong, and Lily spend time in the vast garden outside. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the manicured lawns.

Birds chirp in the distance, and the sound of laughter and lighthearted chatter fills the air as you chase after Lily, who runs ahead, giggling uncontrollably.

Hongjoong stays close, holding Lily’s hand as she spins in circles, occasionally darting away to pick flowers or make up little games.

The innocence of the moment is enough to make your heart swell, and Hongjoong’s quiet smiles as he watches you with Lily are more than enough to reassure you that, despite the turmoil, this is where she belongs.

From the large windows of the dining room, your parents observe the scene in silence.

The head of the family's stern gaze never falters, his arms crossed over his chest, watching as you play with the child he doesn't want to acknowledge.

His mouth is set in a firm line, and it’s clear he hasn’t warmed to the idea of Mike’s hidden life.

“I still don’t like this,” He mutters under his breath. “It’s not just about her being his daughter. It’s about the family’s reputation. Michael has always been the heir. This… this doesn’t fit the image.”

His wife, standing beside him, watches you through the glass. Her eyes soften as she takes in the sight of her daughter and granddaughter together.

For a moment, she allows herself to feel something, something unspoken. Joy, maybe, or hope—an inkling that, perhaps, this child could be a part of their family, even if it’s only in the most private corners.

“I know you’re worried, but… she’s so sweet.” Her voice trembles slightly, her tone tender as she continues to watch. “I can’t deny it. She’s so innocent, and she deserves a chance. She’s part of Mike’s blood, after all.”

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. He cannot bring himself to fully accept what is happening, nor can he allow his daughter to be wrapped up in the emotional complexity of it all.

He’s a man of principle, of tradition, and this is not how things should be. His position, his legacy—everything he’s worked for—depends on his son, upholding the family name.

“Mike can’t just do what he wants,” He grumbles, still staring out at the garden. “He’s the heir. We’ve worked our entire lives to protect this family’s name, and this—this child complicates things. She could ruin everything.”

The woman hesitates “But… she’s still part of our family, Richard. You can see it in her face. She’s… she’s so much like Mike. She deserves a place in this family.”

“But she can’t just be ‘part of the family’ because we feel sorry for her.” His voice grows firm again. “Family’s future depends on him. He is our heir. If this news gets out… it could destroy everything. We need to be careful.”

Catherine sighs softly, the weight of the decision pressing on her. She knows what he says is true. Mike’s position in the family, the business—everything depends on how they handle this situation.

She can’t just throw it all away for a child born from a mistake. But deep down, she feels a pang of sympathy for the little girl, and a part of her can’t help but want to open her heart.

“I just wish Mike would have been honest with us from the beginning,” She says softly, looking back out at the garden where you, Hongjoong, and Lily continue to play. “This could have been different… maybe we could have made it work.”

Her husband grunts, not bothering to respond. The thoughts swirling in his head are far more complex than he lets on. He’s still angry, still resolute in his belief that the family must maintain its perfect image.

But as he watches you laugh with the child, something shifts.

Just a little.

Catherine places a gentle hand on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t forget… we have to think about what’s best for the family. For all of us.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but his gaze softens for a moment as he watches his daughter interact with Lily.

The love, the connection—it’s undeniable.

It’s not just about legacy anymore; it’s about family. And maybe, just maybe, he can find it in himself to accept this little girl.

✮ ⋆

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden as the evening winds start to cool.

Lily’s little hands are clinging to your leg as you stand in the doorway, ready to leave.

She’s grown comfortable in the short time she’s spent here, her big eyes filled with innocence and wonder as she looks up at your parents.

“Lily, we’re going to head out now,” You say softly, crouching down to her level as you adjust her little jacket.

The weight of the evening’s tension still hangs in the air, but moments like this make it all seem worth it. Her eyes flicker to her grandparents, and then she looks back at you with that wide-eyed curiosity.

Your mother stands nearby, a little hesitant, but a soft smile curves on her lips as she watches the little girl.

“Goodbye, Lily” She says, her voice surprisingly gentle as she kneels in front of her. “Come here and give Grandma a hug.”

Lily blinks up at her and hesitates for just a second before her tiny arms stretch out.

“Bye, Grandma,” She says sweetly, throwing her arms around your mother’s neck in a warm embrace.

Your mother’s eyes soften even more, her heart swelling with tenderness “Goodbye, my dear. Come see us again soon, okay?” She says softly, her voice catching slightly.

“Okay!” Lily chirps, pulling back and giving her a big smile, her tiny hands clutching the edges of her jacket.

You feel your heart tug as you watch the two of them, the love in your mother’s eyes undeniable. You can’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you see how easy it is for Lily to wrap your mother around her finger.

Turning to your father, Lily trots over to him, her little legs moving quickly as she approaches him hesitantly.

“Goodbye, Grandpa,” She says shyly, her voice almost a whisper.

Your father’s stern expression softens for just a moment as he bends down to her level, offering a hand to her.

“Goodbye, little one,” He replies, his voice rough but kind as he gently pats her head. “Take care of yourself.”

Lily gives him a sweet smile, her innocence shining through. She gives him a quick hug, standing on tiptoe to wrap her tiny arms around his neck.

“I’ll miss you!” She says brightly before letting go.

Your heart aches slightly watching the interaction, a little flutter in your chest, as a sense of something new begins to blossom within you.

It’s strange, yet beautiful to see how Lily’s innocence is slowly making its way into their hearts, no matter how reluctant they may have been before.

Hongjoong stands off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a quiet smile. His presence is a steady comfort, and his eyes meet yours as he watches you.

You glance back at him, giving him a soft smile of appreciation for being there, supporting you in all of this.

Lily looks up at you and stretches her arms out wide, grinning “Come on, Auntie YN, let’s go home!”

You laugh softly, picking her up and resting her against your hip “Alright, sweetie, let’s go,” you say with a final wave to your parents. “Bye.”

With one last look to your parents, you turn to Hongjoong and nod for him to follow, holding Lily close.

Your mother and father wave back, their faces filled with that strange, bittersweet mixture of emotions as they watch you leave.

The door closes gently behind you, and as you step outside, the cool evening air wraps around you, the weight of the moment still lingering in your heart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Four years ago.

The hallway outside Mike’s room is dimly lit, the distant hum of the household settling for the night.

You were on your way to your own room when you heard it—the sharp edge of his voice, low but venomous.

“I don’t give a damn what you think, Hannah.”

You pause. Hannah, the maid?

You inch closer, pressing yourself against the cold wall near the doorframe. You can’t see them, but you can hear everything.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” He continues, his tone eerily calm “You’re going to take care of this. Get rid of it.”

A sharp inhale. Then Hannah’s voice, trembling but still defiant.

“Mike, this is your child. You can’t just—”

A loud thud cuts her off, like a hand slamming against the desk. You flinch.

“No, Hannah,” Mike hisses, his voice now sharp as a knife. “I told you to handle it. I don’t care how. But you will not ruin my future over this. Do you understand me?”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Then, softer, but no less cruel, “If you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell. And I’ll make sure that bastard never sees the light of day.”

Your stomach twists. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what’s happening, but your instincts tell you it’s something terrible.

Hannah sniffles “Mike, please…”

He sighs, exasperated, like he’s dealing with an inconvenience rather than a human being.

“You have until tomorrow to figure it out.”

A second later, footsteps approach. You panic, stepping away from the door just as it swings open.

Mike stops short when he sees you standing there. His eyes narrow, calculating.

“What are you doing here?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You glance past him, catching a glimpse of Hannah inside the room—eyes red, shoulders shaking, her hand protectively placed over her stomach.

He steps forward, blocking your view, his voice lowering dangerously “Forget whatever you think you heard.”

You shake your head slightly, confusion and unease knotting inside you.

“What—”

He doesn’t let you finish “Actually,” He murmurs, a slow smirk curling on his lips, “You’re going to help me.”

Your brows furrow “Uh?”

Mike tilts his head “You’re going to tell Mother and Father that Hannah stole from you.”

Your breath catches “She what?”

“You’ll say you saw her sneaking out of your room with your jewelry,” He continues smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world “They’ll believe you.”

“Mike, no…” You whisper, horrified.

He leans in slightly, his presence suffocating “You will.”

You shake your head, stepping back “I won’t do that to her.”

His smirk vanishes in an instant. His hand shoots out, gripping your arm so tightly you wince.

“Yes, you will,” He says darkly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Hannah is dragged out of the estate in tears.

And you watch, sick to your stomach, as your parents believe every word you say.

—

The school gates are buzzing with students leaving for the day, laughter and chatter filling the air. You step outside, slipping your phone into your bag when a soft voice stops you.

"Miss YN."

You blink, turning toward the sound.

And freeze, it's been months since the last time you saw her.

Hannah stands a few feet away, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. But that’s not what sends your heart plummeting to your stomach.

It’s the undeniable swell of her belly beneath her coat.

Your mind goes blank.

She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, glancing around as if making sure no one is watching.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t respond immediately, still trying to process what you’re seeing. Then, your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag, and you nod stiffly.

You lead her toward a quieter area near the entrance, away from the curious eyes of your classmates. The moment you stop walking, you cut straight to the point.

“You’re pregnant.” Your voice is eerily calm.

Hannah exhales, her shoulders sagging slightly “Yes.”

Your stomach churns “Is it—”

“I know Mike is in Germany now,” She interrupts before you can finish the question. “That’s why I came to see you.” She looks up, her expression conflicted. “I’m pregnant, Miss YN. Mike is the father.”

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.

Hannah swallows hard, her voice quieter now, almost fragile “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or the baby.”

It feels like the ground beneath you is cracking, splitting open, revealing something dark and ugly you were never meant to see.

“That’s why he forced me to lie?”

The words slip past your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Hannah hears it.

Her brows furrow “What?”

Your chest tightens painfully “That’s why he made me say you stole from me?” You repeat, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Because he didn’t want to handle his mistake?”

Hannah’s lips part slightly. She looks shaken, her hands trembling.

“Miss YN… you did—”

“I didn’t want to,” You cut in, your throat tightening. “But he gave me no choice.”

A heavy silence stretches between you. Then Hannah speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I never got rid of her.”

Your breath catches.

“What?”

Hannah exhales shakily, one hand instinctively pressing against her belly, as if shielding the life growing inside her.

“I couldn’t do it,” she whispers. Her eyes meet yours—raw, pleading, desperate. “I’m keeping her.”

The world tilts beneath your feet.

Oh, god.

Your throat tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Don’t worry,” You manage, though your voice barely holds steady. “I’ll help you.”

But the second the words leave your lips, reality crashes down like a tidal wave.

You’re only seventeen.

How the hell are you supposed to ask your parents for extra money without raising suspicion? How are you going to keep this a secret from them?

And most importantly…

What will Mike do if he finds out?

A shiver runs down your spine.

He will kill you.

If he ever finds out, he will fucking kill you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @mrskill2 @stayatinykatsy @badbitch69420sworld @lunaryoongie @lover-ofallthingspretty @certifiedmoa @jilxxasu @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @Lemonkait00 @yulsr @justconniez @luvvvash @zaynsfl4m3s @nkryuki @boomzen @hurryupmars @silenttrxxs @blue5ummer @khaskl08 @unbroken-shadows @vnxlla @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @milliesupremexx @xh01bri @a-atiny_niawoo @winterstuf @domfikeluva @lezleeferguson-120 @beabatiny @yothangie @lover-of-fics @mingipessego @posseup @0407files @cheolright @nyx-y @arilevenatz @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @yunhogrippers @itzyejiluv @sannieworshipper @m0onchild-98 @l0vjoongie

☆○☆○☆○

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame side story 2 - Iris

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Chapter Summary: A single accident shatters all the secrecy, and the years of a hidden relationship are revealed, though some might say it was the worst kept secret you or Jenna ever had.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I don't want the world to see me 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am-

-March 2025-

Jenna was going to kill her.

She was one hundred percent dead. Four years of secrecy ruined by a slip of a tongue followed by her horrified face.

“Well, the thing is. Mya has known Y/N her whole life, so, you know, Y/N is like another aunt to her,” Aliyah tried to cover it up, to explain, but her chat wasn’t even on fire, it was a blazing inferno threatening to burn her phone to ashes. She couldn’t even catch everything being said, but she caught several comments.

‘Her whole life? The same Y/N Jenna only occasionally gets to see?’

It was over. “She does leave quite an impression,” she hoped she could distract the people somehow, and while some did type in lyrics of ‘Taste’ while correcting the height to match your own, most people were still fixated on you being Mya’s aunt.

‘I’ve never been called aunt by my best friend’s nephew’

That… was unfortunately a fair point. Her niece didn’t rush into her room shouting giddily that Aliyah’s friends came over, and she didn’t refer to them as aunts and uncles. Aliyah was going to wake up in cold sweat tonight, only hearing the gleeful voice accompanied by toothy excited grin yelling ‘Auntie Y/N is here! She’s here! She’s here!’ which, while adorable, because the girl adored you, definitely made Aliyah wish she wasn’t livestreaming at the moment.

A single question kept being spammed in her comments. ‘Since when’ and Aliyah could only drop her head on the table. The internet was convinced, now more than ever before, that you and Jenna were together. She couldn’t do anything to change that.

~X~

There were times when Jenna wished she could change, let things be, lower her guard and let the world in. She definitely didn’t seek that kind of attention, even if it was part of the job, but she certainly wished she didn’t have to hide what the two of you had. It was primarily her decision to keep your relationship a secret, as you were fine either way, but as she watched you step into her parents’ house in a hurry and dressed to avoid any attention she wondered if keeping this relationship a secret was the right choice.

You did it with ease, proving yet again just how often the two of you snuck these moments in, and more often than not there was actual sneaking involved. On sets, between doing interviews, or simply while you were on a break.

“Hey,” one simple word, spoken with so much warmth it could melt any worry she had, and then next thing she knew she was once again in your arms, hugging you and kissing you. “I missed you, Jen,” you whispered, stealing away a few moments just for the two of you before her family saw you. She could hear the relief in your voice that you were finally with her again, that this long month was coming to an end.

“I missed you too,” Jenna pulled back slightly, taking your appearance in. You looked exhausted, and sleep-deprived, like you couldn’t wait to just go to bed, hug her and sleep. You were filming for the past two months, and once again you chose to keep quiet about what you were filming but it wasn’t in the States, that much she knew. And you still managed to go to Oscars with her, only to leave the next day, then came back home for your four-year anniversary, and again left the next morning, and now you were finally back home a week and a half later. She reached up, brushing a few strands of your hair back and you sighed softly, leaning into her touch as she caressed your cheek. Come hell or high water you showed up for her, even when it wasn’t always easy for you.

The little bubble the two of you created burst as the doors swung open and her niece rushed into the hall and laser-focused solely on you. “Auntie Y/N!” Jenna pulled away, letting her niece jump into your arms.

Thinking back, Jenna nearly tripped when Mya first called you ‘aunt’ especially since she made it clear she meant ‘aunt’ as in ‘Jenna’s wife’ and not ‘aunt like Jenna’. Now she was used to it, and she adored every second you spent with her niece and nephews. Hell, as far as Jenna was concerned, this just proved you were stuck with her.

“Come on, go get your other aunt,” Jenna whispered to Mya and you lowered the girl back down before she rushed up the stairs to where Aliyah was. “There goes our privacy,” Jenna joked, stealing one last kiss before you would have to join her family in the living room.

She had no idea how right those words were.

~X~

About ten minutes after you settled down and greeted everyone currently present the disaster struck. You planned on spending some time with Jenna and her family before leaving to catch up on some sleep, preferably with Jenna right next to you. But then it happened. Aliyah came down the stairs looking pale and horrified.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Natalie immediately jumped to her feet, but Aliyah was only looking at Jenna and you.

“You two might want to check your social media,” she sounded like you’d open the social media and find out your careers were over, and your heart sank. Did someone find out about your fights? Did someone make up a story about Jenna or you that could ruin your reputations? Surely it wasn’t as simple as some of the usual ‘Are they together?’ rumors, because those were easy to handle. “I was livestreaming and it just, it’s better if you see it for yourself,” she said and Jenna was the first to pull out her phone, her hands were shaking and you took her hands, steading her.

All thoughts of going to sleep were gone by this point and you were running purely on adrenaline.

Jenna unlocked her phone and sure enough, there was a constant stream of notifications coming in. “What happened?” she asked, bewildered, as she opened her Instagram. And there it was.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you and Jenna watched in horror as Mya showed up on Aliyah’s stream. Her happy, energetic cheers that you ‘Auntie Y/N’ were here, spoken so clearly there was no way anyone would believe if you tried to say she meant ‘Auntie and Y/N are here’ made Jenna lower her phone as she leaned back against you.

You wrapped your arms around her purely on instinct, because it usually helped her calm down, but this time it was pretty much useless. A tiny comfort amidst your secret being revealed.

~X~

The rest of the day felt like a fever dream as you and Jenna drove back to your home, wishing to deal with your relationship being revealed on your own, in the comfort of your home. You, being at least a bit calmer than she was, took it upon yourself to drive from Jenna’s parents’ house to your home and then you just went to the bedroom and got ready to figure out a way to deal with this.

By the time you were back home both you and Jenna got countless messages and calls, it felt like the whole world now knew for sure the two of you were a couple.

She opened her Instagram again and saw a post from one of the fan accounts she was following. “It’s over,” she resigned to her fate. It wasn’t just a clip from Aliyah’s livestream where the words ‘Auntie Y/N’ could clearly be heard. Oh, no, it was much more than that. It was a series of photos and videos ever since Wednesday came out. All showing just how close you were, during the interviews and behind the scenes. And then there were the paparazzi photos where you and Jenna would be caught together. Never doing anything to definitively prove you were together, but most certainly raising suspicions.

“The worst kept secret, Jenna Ortega and Y/N L/N secret romance?” you read the post description in utter disbelief. And it wasn’t even the worst one.

“Look at this one. Wednesday season 2 PR stunt – lead actresses come out,” she was afraid to even read others, and she was not looking forward to everyone feeling the need to express their opinions on your relationship.

Some people definitely wouldn’t be happy.

“What do we do?” she asked, unsure if there was anything left to do. From the corner of her eyes she saw how tense you were. You were fighting your exhaustion, staying strong for Jenna’s sake.

“Get some control over it, I suppose. Just say the truth,” that was probably the only thing you could do at this point. There was no taking this back, nothing would ever convince the loudest of your fans that ‘Auntie Y/N’ meant you were just Jenna’s good friend.

“Right,” Jenna nodded and picked a photo of the two of you from your anniversary and wrote a simple description. She just wrote ‘4 ❤️’ and tagged you. That was it, nothing else. Not that there was anything she needed to add, the two of you kissing on the photo was more than enough on its own. “Is this okay?” she asked, showing you her phone.

“Yeah,” you nodded and held her hand as she pressed the button to post her photo.

She wished she could just let you rest, but just for a bit longer she needed you to help her calm down.

~X~

The moment the photo was posted Jenna turned her phone off and snuggled into your right side. You smiled softly at her and wrapped your arm around her as she played with the string of your hoodie. "This is it," she muttered against your chest. "No more secrets, no more hiding," even if her voice didn't give her anxiety away you felt it in the way she was pushing into you, as if she was trying to burrow into you, to hide from the rest of the world, if only for a little bit longer.

You raised your left hand and smoothed a few strands of her hair. Jenna let out a small, content sigh, and closed her eyes, further relaxing against you. Deep down you both knew this moment would come, either by accident, by someone catching you, and more or less you figured you should feel lucky you got to have some control over the reveal.

Well, as much control as you could have, given the way this all started.

"What's your least loud thought?" about halfway through filming Wednesday season 1 you began asking that question. It made Jenna stop overthinking for a moment, it let her focus on telling you her thoughts, and she always began from what worried her the least, and then go from there until you got to what worried her the most.

"Our relationship. It'll change," she whispered, shifting a bit so she could hug you.

"Not enough to worry you," if there was one thing you both had absolute faith in, it was your relationship.

"Never. This," she looked you in the eyes and leaned up to kiss you. Her lower lip was a bit swollen from her chewing on it, and you did your best to soothe it. Jenna moaned into the kiss and the soft, slow kiss made both of you worry a bit less. "Is the only part of my life I don't ever have to worry about," you've been through enough to know what the two of you had could not be shaken.

"We'll just need a bit of an adjustment period," you half-joked and Jenna snickered as she nuzzled back into your chest. "So, what's louder?"

Jenna thought it over, sorting through her worries. "Backlash," yeah, this wasn't a perfect world. "Won't be our first time," she huffed.

"Won't be the last time either," not the most comforting thought, but it was part of the job, an ugly, stupid part of the job, but it was a part of it.

"Can't please everyone," Jenna repeated a long-time mantra.

"Don't care as long as I can please you," and you repeated yet another often-spoken response to that mantra. Jenna jokingly smacked your shoulder. "What?" you laughed.

"Dork," it wasn't your fault that she immediately thought of certain pleasures.

"Your dork," you grinned. "What's louder?"

Jenna looked you in the eyes. "I don't want to lose the peace we have," and you could tell that was what worried her the most.

And you? There was only one thing you could say to that. "We won't," the only thing that could soothe Jenna's worries was you being as certain as you possibly could be. “Our privacy, our peace and quiet, we’ll keep that, no matter how difficult it gets,” you kissed the top of her head and gently rubbed her back as Jenna’s breathing evened out. That was all the answer you needed, Jenna managed to fall asleep, silently proving to you that she felt better.

And with that you could finally fall asleep as well.

~X~

Meanwhile, while you and Jenna were talking about your worries and feelings, Jenna’s Instagram profile was burning with flames hotter than the Sun.

Jennafanpage: 4?! 4 what?! Jenna, what does it mean?!

Randomuser11856: Probably months

JennaY/N4ever: …dude… it’s four years. Have you been living under a rock?

RaijuonaWednesday: I said it first! Those looks were too real!

Wastingtime: You mean Scream, Wednesday, Miller’s girl, Oath by the Flames or all the interviews they had together?

RaijuonaWednesday: Yes!

JasminSavoyBrown: Super happy for you two, but I need to get my eyes checked.

            MasonGooding: Me too!

            DevynNekoda: Me three!

            MelissaBarrera: You really do.

            MasonGooding: You knew?!

            MelissaBarrera: For almost three years.

            JasminSavoyBrown: 😮😮The betrayal!

MarvelgiveussoloLauramovie: A minute of silence for all the broken hearts!

WednesdayNetflix: Thing knew

EmmaMyers: Love you both! ❤️❤️

JoySunday: Are we ignoring that we spent almost a year and a half working with them and somehow they kept it a secret?

            HunterDoohan: We got so caught up anticipating when, we didn’t see it already happened ���

Barbarian: Can I finally tease them in public?

            Hugh: Barbara, no.

            Barbarian: Barbara YES!

            Hugh: Let them enjoy this.

            RyanReynolds: Papa Logan. The legends are true.

Enrique: Guess who’s wearing matching outfits?

            Barbarian: We can finally make Y/N wear a shirt that says ‘If lost return to Jenna’

            Aliyah: With smaller font saying: ‘Prolonged separation from Jenna might cause negative effects.’

            Hugh: Barbara, no.

            Barbarian: Barbara YES!

OrteGay: WHAT?!

            Jennafan36: Spoke it into existence.

            Barbarian: Ha! Using that one! 😆

            Hugh: Barbara, no!

            Barbarian: Barbara YES!

            OrteGay: Holy shit, Hugh Jackman replied to my comment *faints*

By the time you and Jenna woke up and finally checked Instagram there were already thousands upon thousands of comments under Jenna’s post. Well, at least now you no longer had to hide your relationship.

A/N: Well, not exactly what I thought this would look like, but here it is.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

Masterlist / First Part

[myth1cs]

Kiss My Troubles Away (Hirai Momo, Minatozaki Sana x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1,107

Finals week was stressing you out and you just wanted something to take your mind off your stress. The bar probably wasn't the best option but this wouldn't be your first time going to the bar before exams.

You ordered your favorite drink and waited patiently. While you were waiting you looked around the bar and noticed two girls were staring at you. The one with darker hair waved at you.

Before you could wave back the bartender got back with your drink. "Thank you, Mina." you mumbled out just loud enough for her to hear. She simply nodded at you before she left you alone.

You were a little over halfway finished with your glass when you felt someones hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw the two women from earlier.

They looked more intoxicated than you. The shorter woman slurred her words as she spoke to you "Hey toots wanna come over to mine and peach lady's apartment? I promise you you'll have the night of your life!" You weren't stupid, you knew that they were likely pulling you into a one night stand.

Maybe it was the fact that you found the two women attractive or maybe it was your drunkenness (Probably both) but you accepted the offer and followed the two women to their apartment.

They led you into their apartment and sat you down at the edge of the bed. "What's your name princess?" the brunet woman asked you. "Y/N L/N."

"Y/N that's a pretty name, but while you're with us you'll be 'ours' got it?". You nodded your head, maybe a little faster than you'd like to admit. "Eager, I like that." the other woman said.

"I'm Sana and my friends here is Momo."

Sana latched her lips onto your neck and started to give you hickeys. Momo pulled down your pants and saw that your panties were already starting to get wet. "Wet already? But we just started."

Your face flushed when Momo brought it up. Sana's hands tugged on your shirt "Do you mind princess?". You shook your head. With your permission Sana took off your shirt. It was a bit cold and you got goosebumps on your skin.

Momo attached her teeth to your panties and slid them off of you. She brushed her nose on your pussy making you shiver. Satisfied with your reaction she started to kiss your thighs. Her kisses were soft and warm. She started to gently rub your clit. All this stimulation was making your head spin. "Momo please~"

Momo lightly smacked your pussy. "No!"

Sana took off her clothes as she watched Momo drive you crazy. She grabbed your chin and made you face her. Your eyes widened when you saw the naked girl in front of you. "Like what you see?"

You were about to go over to her but Momo gripped onto you tightly. "You're not going anywhere toots."

"Momo at least let me cum I'm begging!"

"I don't care. You'll cum when you're told to got it?"

Sana spoke up. "Honey aren't you being a bit harsh on our princess?"

"No!"

If you couldn't go over to Sana then she'd go over to you. Sana wrapped you around your arms and kissed your lips. Her touch was something that you felt was touching your soul. You kissed her soft lips back and pulled her closer to you.

Sana's hands wandered onto your breasts. She gently rubbed your nipples making you moan out. "Agh~". She gently licked your ear before she whispered "You sound pretty princess." Your face turned red at her compliment.

She slowly pushed you onto the bed and, as if this moment was choreographed, the same moment she put her pussy up to your mouth Momo inserted one of her fingers into your pussy.

"Damn your so tight toots!"

"What are you doing princess? Make me cum!" Sana ordered.

You didn't have to be told twice. You shoved your tongue deep inside Sana feeling her walls clench around your tongue. "You taste really good!" you muffled out. Sana didn't quite hear you but she could guess what you were saying.

Momo added a few more fingers and started to curl them inside you. "Come on toots make those pretty noises for me." Your moans filled the room as Momo hit your sensitive spots. She licked your clit making you roll your eyes back a little.

"Don't forget about me princess." Sana said as she lightly smacked your face. Truth be told you almost forgot she was on top of you but now that she reminded you that she was there you resumed your licking. As you resumed eating out Sana your hands traced the curves of her body. Getting a little more daring you moved your hands further up her body until you reached her breasts.

"You want to touch these princess?" You nodded your head sheepishly. Sana giggled at you "You're already eating me out, you don't need to be shy." She grabbed your hands and placed them on her breasts.

Giving them a soft squish elicited a moan from Sana. You continued to play with her soft breasts.

"I- I'm going to cum princess!" Not much longer after her warning Sana squirted her cum all over your mouth. You didn't have time to enjoy the taste of Sana's cum as you started to feel your own orgasm build up. "Momo I'm-"

"Shh I know toots, just relax and let it happen."

You followed Momo's orders and cum came out of your pussy. Momo swallowed the sweet fluids that came out of you. Every last drop. Sana got off you and pushed you up. She pushed herself to your back while Momo sat on your lap. "See Y/N I ate everything you gave me!" She said as she stuck her tongue out to show you. She then proceeded to kiss your lips while Sana kissed your neck. You still felt weak but the kissing from the two made you relax.

"Don't get too comfortable toots, I still haven't cum yet."

"Want me to eat you out Momo?" You asked.

"Actually I've been meaning to test out a new toy."

Momo got off of you and reached under the bed. She pulled out a strap on and ordered you to put it on. "Come on princess put this on for me." Once you had it on she looked at your body and licked her lips. "Beautiful."

You looked at Momo's body again and admired her curves.

"What are you waiting for? Come and fuck me!"

This night was far from over.

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Special gift to my 2 female followers. I'm so lesbian for these 2 but unfortunately only my Male reader smuts do good.

[melondecarabia]

˙⟡ 24h sugar pill (1/3)

leo kurosagi x fem reader 

fluff, crack, mildly angsty scene 

mdni! 

authors note: leo my princess with a disorder.

tw: leo, suggestive scenes, leo's one sided beef with jiro, hater behavior 

summary: leo gets smacked in the face with some love potion in powdered form, and it's your job to take care of him. unfortunately? you can decide that. 

"Ugh. Can't believe I have to deal with you… They know damn well I can do this myself…" He keeps complaining and complaining, and you are just about to smoke this bitch like a barbeque. Leo is well aware that this mission is safer to accomplish with two people, despite the low danger level. Why? 

Well, the currently empty (despite it being midday) mall Darkwick has sent you two to investigate, is supposed to house an anomaly. What does it do, exactly? Well, four people have changed behavior in the blink of an eye while in the building. A salary man clinging to a coworker, an old lady flirting with a sales clerk, a young woman smothering her boyfriend with a hug, and a man in his 30s begging a woman for a peg- (redacted). These individuals acted in a manner described as 'puppy love' to 'unhinged simping' for the timespan of 15 minutes to 24 hours. All four have no recollection of this happening, and acted embarrassed when told of it. So, if one of you were to be inflicted with these symptoms, the other could escort them back to Darkwick after marking the location of the anomaly. 

˙⟡

"Man," That smug grin keeps coming back, "Can't wait for you to get got and cling to me for a whole day. Wouldn't be that different from usual though!" "You're the one who keeps breaking into my dorm." He has the audacity to scoff, "Got proof, honor roll?" Leo keeps looking at you like old gum. Bitch. "Set up a test the other day. I bought those extra mega spicy chips, and put them in my snack drawer. I certainly don't eat them because I value my life, and everyone who visits with my knowledge and permission don't want to breathe fire for a week. Also, only one person I know is insane enough to even get near them. Does that ring a bell?" You raise an eyebrow and side eye him back. He doesn't even bother to answer, and steps further to the side. Is that Pinterest on his phone? It's a pretty recognizable logo. 

He notices you looking, and quickly shuts the screen with a sharp glare. "Invasion of privacy. Never heard of it being illegal?" "That's rich-" He raises a single, soft finger to your lips. "Do you hear that?" Only the buzzing of electricity- oh? A soft, harp-like melody? Your eyes meet bright yellow. Despite being insufferable, at least he knows when to take things seriously. Even if it's not very often… 

˙⟡

Sneaking through the short hallway between shops, the sound is louder near the entrance to the bathrooms. It stopped, right as he stepped to the area where men's and women's sections are in the opposite directions. He turns to look at you still in the hallway. Leo looks up at the ceiling- POOF! A powder, the color of cherry blossoms, covers his head for a moment before dissipating into nothingness, sending him into a coughing fit. "Leo!" You grab his collar and yank him back to the hallway like a ragdoll. 

"Leo! You good?!" You put your hand up. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He coughs a bit more, before staring at you through (unfairly) long lashes. "Teehee…" Why the fuck is he giggling? "All five!" Oh good, he's not that out of it- that thought is cut off as he laces his fingers with yours. "Huh?" Ohhhhh no no no. His fair face is flushed pink, and the yellow of his eyes is barely visible with the blown out pupils. "Ho-nor roooolll… so pretty ♡…" How did he say that outloud- whatever. The time is 12:24 PM as you send the location to Jiro, and a warning about surprise attacks, with some difficulty as Leo has grabbed your dominant hand and is currently rubbing his face on it like a cat. "Come ooonnnnnn…" You look at his glossy pout. "Pay attention to meeeeee…..!" Oh. You're not sure if this is preferable to the usual sassiness. The phone in your hand is quickly snatched away, and thankfully, you managed to turn it off just before. Giving Leo unlimited access to it would mean spiritual death. "Hmph. Who were you talking to?" Leo really is like a cat, with narrowed eyes and a look of deep offense. "Jiro. I told him about the anomaly." Telling that piece of information seemed to be the wrong move, as now he's even more offended. "Why are you talking to hiiimmm???? Am I not enough?" Oh god. Is he about to cry? 

Okay. He's definitely very much out of it, and not faking it. "It's not like that. I needed to-" Skull, meet floor! You're tackled in a hug as his arms snake around your neck. "You don't need him! Just me!" Now throwing a tantrum, complete with whining, Leo cries. You awkwardly pat his back, but need to get him off before choking to death. "Yes, yes. I know. You know you're my boyfriend, right? Let's go back to Darkwick now." After a staredown, he deems your answer to be satisfying enough. "Okay…" He finally gets off your chest, but when you finally manage to stand up, he clings to your arm with the same strength as before. "I wanna cuddle tonight, okay? You better make this up to me." Hopefully, this'll end soon. It's freaky, and not in a good way. 

˙⟡

How are you going to manage this? Leo is currently hanging off your arm as practically dead weight, and the elevators are not operating. Shit… the only option left is the stairs currently in front of you, as the door to the Galaxy Express is located on the first floor. Sigh. "Leo?" He lifts his head up ever so slightly from where he was burying his nose in your neck, and makes a sound of acknowledgement. "Can you… stop clinging to me for a while so we can go downstairs without risking death?" The sugary sweet voice you're currently sporting brings a flavor of bitter acid in your throat. Ugh. He seems to contemplate for a bit, before his eyes glaze over and seem to glitter. "So pretty…" And now he's right in your face. Less than ideal! With every breath of his, you can smell an artificial fruit flavor. "Okay. Thanks. Uhhhh- fuck it." So, you direct his arm to rest on your shoulder, and bring your own to his (very small? why and how?) waist, and the other to support the underside of his knees. "Oh honor roll∼ You need to do this everyday!" He certainly doesn't seem to mind the position, which is great, as you don't want him to wriggle like a fish on land while trying to descend the stairs. What's not great, is that now he's sniffing your hair like it's cocaine and giggling like a drunk girl. Be strong, (y/n), you've dealt with worse. Probably. Maybe. 

˙⟡

By some miracle, the Herculean feat is over. Thankfully, the man is quite light in weight, and his only movement was snuggling closer to your neck. You try to lower him back to the ground. "No!" "Ow! Leo- please, let me breathe-" As soon as you stand back up, he lets you do just that. You can practically see the airplane ears he would have as a cat. " (Y/n). Youare going to carry your adorable boyfriend back to Darkwick, right?" It's not a question. Another sigh. "Yes, honey." And he immediately cheers up! "Yay!" That giggle is as unsettling as it is cute. 

˙⟡

Ugh- You finally get to sit down on the Galaxy Express, with, of course, some added weight. No one else is in here, you notice. Count your blessings! No witnesses present for this situation. He's still clinging to you though… the stars outside, along with the lamplight in the car, bring an ethereal sort of glow to his smooth face. Leo's really great-looking, even if you're usually distracted by his thorny words and catty attitude. Hehe, catty… huh. You settle a hand on his silky hair, and he's not biting it off. In fact, he melts even further into your lap, and slightly wiggles for a more comfortable position. "(Y/n)?" He's looking at you with uncharacteristically soft eyes. "Hm?" He nervously swallows. "I really, really like you." The sentence could barely be heard over the rattling of the train moving along. It's a welcome change for him to be friendly, but it's honestly preferable that he be mean like usual. Even if Leo doesn't particularly like you, at least you know he means it, and this… artificial softness, just feels worse than a real insult. To keep him satisfied, you hug him back, and offer a noncommittal sound of agreement. 

˙⟡

After three minutes, he whips out his phone, and opens up Pinterest. "It's us." A photo of two cats, cuddling each other while sleeping, is on the screen he shows to you. "Yep." The clock on his screen says it's 12:51 PM now. Should be about 7 minutes left to reach Darkwick. "Us." Another cat photo, this time with their tails making a heart. His feed is is filled with street fashion and… wedding inspo? If he's planning a fake wedding for his content with you, it'll be his last day on earth. Another cat photo. "Us!" A very deep sigh. 

˙⟡

Finally! You breathe in the fresh air of the campus, with Leo holding on to your hand. His shampoo, though a pleasant scent, is still quite intense when his head is practically covering your nose. While breathing in to gather your thoughts, he leans against your shoulder. Ding! It's your phone, and the message from Jiro reads: "The effects of the anomaly aren't lethal, or dangerous. Kurosagi can go to his dorm to sleep it off. We'll analyze the anomaly to see how long he'll be under influence. I'll get back to you with the results." Ah, your appreciation grows for him. A person who takes his job seriously? In Darkwick? Without complaining? "(Yyyyyyy/nnnnnnnn)!" A whine of your name grabs your attention. "Yeah?" Oh, he doesn't seem very happy. "Are you talking to other men? Are you talking to that guy from Mortkranken?" 

˙⟡

Leo grits his teeth. He's your boyfriend! That emo scarecrow smells like hand sanitizer anyway and speaks like a robot, so what's pleasant about speaking to the guy? The taste of jealousy burns in the back of his throat, but softens with another hug given to you. Not completely gone, though. "Are you cheating?" It's a heavy question, even heavier on his heart. "No, Leo. I'm not. He just told me you'll be fine after, you know," A wave of your hand towards his face, "Getting hit in the face by some suspicious powder." Hmph. That better be it. He sighs with a pout. Only one thing could cheer him up now… "Kiss me." So shocked… It's cute. He's already brightening up at the sight. "Well- no, I can't." A smoldering feeling, now raging from the pit of his stomach all the way up to his molars. "Why?" He's searching for a reason in your… sad face? Why are you sad around Leo? Would you be happy with that Mortkranken dude? It stings his eyes. It should, needs to, has to be the other way! "Why can't you? Do you not like me anymore? Is that it? Who? Is it that guy? Is it-" The wave of questions is stopped by two hands cupping his cheeks. You might not have a stigma, but you have a power to calm him down. "Leo." Have your lips always been that eyecatching? He thinks so. "You're not thinking straight, and it's because of that anomaly. Go back to Vagastrom, and sleep it off. You'll feel better right after." So soft-looking… Wait, back to where? 

˙⟡

"No." His brows are furrowed, and the pout is back. "What do you mean no?" Oh. There's tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "(Yyyyyy/nnnnnnn)! What if I slip and die on the way? You want your boyfriend to die? So meeeeaaaannnnnn!" Dammit! He's whining so loud, Lyca can hear it from Obscuary! Your shoulders are held in a deathgrip, as his face nears yours. "Pleaaaasseeeeeee? You said we would cuddle tonight! You can't break your promise!" He's pressing against your body, trying to get even closer. You have to avert your face to avoid meeting his lips. "I didn't say- whatever! Just back up!" He does back up, with a satisfied grin. "Great! Let's go!" And you're given another demonstration of ghoul strength, as he drags you to the cathedral. 

˙⟡

The section of the building made into an apartment is run down, but clearly in better condition than even a month earlier. It's not very aesthetically pleasing, but then again, you're barely given time to work on that. "Babe?" You seem to think for a while before realizing he's referring to you. "What?" Again, those stupid reports… Hmph. There's something much more interesting right next to you! "What kind of color scheme should we go for?" The sound of pen scratching on paper stops. "Huh?" That adorable confused look again. "For our home. I'm thinking this one," A light neutral, with a tint of warmth is on his screen, "and then we could have a couch with changeable covers. It's a neutral, so we don't need to paint the walls to change the look of the living room." He saves the color to a board named 'living room ideas'. Your eyes are so pretty. Even prettier when you smile, and the taste of acid is back. You laugh a lot more when around that himbo, or carrot-top, or tweedlebitch and tweedledumbass, or- before that thought rolls any further, the sound of a grumbling stomach is heard. "Ah." You avert your face away. Leo doesn't like that. It's 2:03 PM now. Right, you're probably hungry! Time to show you he's better than those losers. "Don't worry! I'll cook!" It's easy right? He can manage to not set things on fire when he wants to! 

˙⟡

Leo? Kitchen? Food? Panic! Every dish he's made (for himself, obviously) so far has been a shade of red that looks like hellfire. Fuck. No. "Don't worry, I-" He stops you with a hand a bit too close to your chest. "No no, sit back down. You last ate breakfast, right?" There's nothing in your kitchen that could help him achieve that level of spice, but you can't risk it! "Leo? We could cook together, right?" The puppy eyes are a success! He beams, and claps his hands in excitement. "Okay! What do you have in here?" He's bending over to look into the fridge. "Aha! Curry sounds good, right?" He looks back to you over his shoulder, with a packet of protein in his hand. 

˙⟡

"Yeah, sure. I'll help!" Hmph. No reaction? None whatsoever? You're just gonna wash your hands and take a chopping board? Fine. He knows he has a great ass, and you will too. Sigh. He'll get started on the rice, since- oh that's cute. A pink rice cooker? He'll have to find another for your future apartment though, since it's a bit small and cheap-looking. How big would it need to be? Wait, do you want kids? Leo's not that enthused to share your attention, but he's willing to negotiate. Especially for mini-versions of you two? You couldn't leave then either… Yeah. A bigger rice cooker. Maybe even a matching toaster? 

˙⟡

Chop, chop, chop. The carrot is cut into near even pieces under the slightly dull knife. "Leo? Could you hand me the potatoes?" You've been conditioned to get nervous when he's quiet for too long by now. The last time he was left unattended, well, you got banned from 7 WackDonald's locations in one evening. 

The sack of potatoes gets set next to the chopping board. "Tha-" Two arms snake around your ribcage, and a warm body leans all it's weight on your back. "(Y/n)." You set down the knife, just in case he asks some out of pocket question and you give yourself a suprise amputation. "Yeah? What is it?" A shiver runs down your spine, as his hands start to caress circles right under your bra. "I wanna be your househusband." That question would've cost you a finger! Damn, you're smart. "Uh-huh. Sure about that? You'd have all sorts of errands, and a lot of housework." Right under your breasts now. A contemplative sound leaves him. "Yeah. I'm sure. I'll cook, and clean, and do the laundry, and… take care of your," He presses even closer to whisper in your ear, "needs." Something is poking your ass right now, and it's not a phone in his pocket. "Right! Nice, nice. Can you chop the potatoes? I gotta," Work right the fuck now brain, "Get the laundry! I'll go do that!" You're gonna eat kale or something tomorrow, just to reward your brain. Good job! 

˙⟡

…ugh. Fine. He takes the knife, and gets to aggressively chopping the innocent spuds. You're a bit shy. He can work with that. Chop. Maybe some lingerie will do the trick. 

˙⟡

Okay. There's not enough laundry to start the machine yet… You should've procastrinated for once. It's for the better though, as you come back to the kitchen just in time to witness Leo holding up an unfamiliar spice bottle. "Wait!" Just in time! You stop his hand from opening the omen of pain. "What's this?" He raises an eyebrow to that, "Oh, just something for a bit more kick." "I can't handle that, I think." It's still unopened, but there's already a slight burning in your eyes. "Could you, maybe, add it afterwards to your own bowl?" He looks a bit disappointed, but stashes it back into his coat pocket. You'll have to remember that. "Fiiiine. Only because you asked." He settles for a hug, and his cheek is smushed against your boob. You remember the events from 7 minutes ago, and take an awkward stance to keep your hips separated from his own. 

˙⟡

The curry looks pretty good, in your humble and correct opinion. "Here. Oooopen up!" He holds a spoon to your lips, with a loving smile. There's a generous blush present on his face as you take it into your mouth. Tastes good, too, and even better with no worry of it being poisoned with whatever that bottle held inside. You nod in appreciation. "Yep. It's delicious. Thanks, Leo." Not a very common sentence in your life so far, but today's been weird anyway. "Hehe. Of course it is. I made it with love!" He's a bit more like himself, with a smug smile and tone, even if softened by the anomaly's effects. It's a better look than earlier. 

˙⟡

By the time you two finish eating, it's 3:48 PM. An idea pops up in his head. "(Y/n)? You have a bathtub, right?" You already squint in suspicion. "Uh, yeah. You can go take a bath, if you want. The towels are-" Take a hint! " Yeah, but… I feel a bit loopy…" He conjures the best kicked, wet orphan puppy in the rain look he's got, "Can you pleeease join me? I'm cold, but I don't wanna slip and hit my head…" It's not working. Fuck! 

˙⟡

Okay, so, you may not have joined him, but it's not a fruitless endeavor! Leo rubs his hands together like a mischievous housefly, and sets his sights on your soaps. He'll get to smell like you at least one way! And you gave him your clothes! He'll have to get his hands on your hoodie, that one you wear often? With the pattern? Wearing that outside will send a message to those loser cucks that you're taken. 

Leo really wishes that you would've joined… he sighs in relief when the tight briefs come off. Before he drops them along with the other used clothes into the open washing machine, he spots something. And oh, it's something alright. 'Black lace? Oh, you shouldn't have… naughty (y/n)!' A drunk grin splits his face. 

˙⟡

You turn the TV volume up even louder. Don't think about it. Just don't. He's just doing yoga and stretching really well. In the bath. That's why he's making that noise. 

˙⟡

By the time he's done, you're wearing headphones with the TV on full volume. You jump when he suddenly appears next to you, and starts clinging onto your arm again. He seems a bit tired, for some reason, which you absolutely don't know. "(Y/n)." It's 5:02 PM, your phone indicates, before it's set down along with the headphones. "What?" You're currently half covered by him, as his leg swings over to settle on your lap. The remote gets snatched, and the volume is turned down to near silent. 

"I love you." Your heartbeats get stuck in your throat, before a third knocks the two away and saves you from choking. Siiigh. There's still a distant, affectionate look, complete with blown out pupils. Not as intense as before, but still too sweet in contrast to usual bitterness. You give him a placating nod and hum, but it's not enough anymore. You're pushed to lay down, and get straddled by him. "What will it take for you to say it back?" A sigh, all the way from your soul. "Leo. The anomaly made you confused, and you're not being yourself. When you snap out of this, you'll spit in my face again. So, please, get off." He doesn't. He just stares back with that warning tape look, like he's trying to catch you lying. The hands that cage you down grip the cushions below with force. "What if I apologize?" The murmur barely makes it off his pierced tongue. "That would be a start. But, I want you to apologize because you mean it. Not because you want to be with me, or want something in return." He shuts his eyes, and the deadeyed look is gone when they're opened again. "Okay," He settles down, between your arm and torso. "I'll apologize when you know I'm not drugged, then." Your shirt is clutched by a soft hand. The two of you lay there, with the quiet sound of some nature documentary playing. 

˙⟡

It's 8:57 PM, and you're beat. Leo is back to his temporarily sweet and happy behavior already, and has started to hang off of you again. It was quite taxing to get him to back off just long enough to shower by yourself. "You already took a bath!" "But I'm cold agaaaain!" "Just wear this hoodie, or something!" That bought you enough time to get ready for sleep. The final task on the list? Survive sleeping next to Leo. He's already snug as a bug in a rug, right in your bed, holding your black cat plushie that you won yourself. Sacriledge! "(Y/n)! Come here!" He lifts the sheets next to him, patting the mattress below. The sweatpants you gave him are hanging dangerously low on his hips, and the oversized tee has been tied to reveal his stomach. Siiiiiiiiiighhhhhhhh. As much as you don't want to sleep next to him with the fresh memories of very questionable behavior in mind, your plushie offspring has been taken hostage, and you can't leave her behind. 

So, you settle down on the mattress, and are immediately covered by not only the duvet, but by the man himself. "Ugh… heavy." Not even that heavy, but it's a bit uncomfortable. Opening your eyes reveals a petty pout. "Hmph. You can't call your husband heavy, (y/n). You signed up for this." He adjusts position, so that his head is resting on your right boob, and his leg is laying over your hip. "Husband? Since when?" Leo shoots an offended look back. "Soon. But might as well start already, so we'll get used to it. You will be my wife." And the familiar smug look is back, slightly softened in affection to accompany the confident statement. You could picture him using the expression regularly, but… It'll probably be used for someone else. It feels uncomfortable, hollow, so you turn your attention down to his phone. "Say cheese!" And you smile anyway, so that even if you see these photos again, you won't remember this feeling as strongly. He takes a lot of them, in different positions, like with both your faces smushed cheek to cheek, or looking into each others eyes. 

˙⟡

A photo of two cats dressed as bride and groom. "It's us." You're already falling asleep? It's only 9:57 PM… Why aren't there more hours in a day? "Mhm." You've already closed your eyes, and are breathing steadily. The day should be as long as Leo wants it to be. He needs more time to speak, cuddle, cook, and just exist alongside you. At least there's tomorrow, and this can repeat again. He'll definitely bathe with you tomorrow. "(Y/n)? Can I get a goodnight's kiss?" You barely stir. "Mhh. 'Kay." His breath hitches at the hand on his cheek. A minty kiss lands on the other, even if only briefly. It's not what he was thinking of, but maybe it's better like this. He gives you one in return, eyes fluttering shut before contact. The first kiss needs to be special. As much as he dislikes Hotarubi's residents, the dorm's atmosphere would be perfect. 

˙⟡

"Nooooooo…… not yeeeeeeeeettttt…….." "Leo, I need to get ready. So do you!" You're currently being bound by the mentioned person's arms and legs, while trying to get up from bed. "It's 8:30 AM already. Let go!" Damn ghoul strength! You're pretty strong, but even a mischievous goblin like Leo has some considerable strength hidden by an unassuming appearance. "Just a few more minutes! You fell asleep so fast last night, I didn't get enough cuddles!" Sigh! "Fine. 10 minutes, no more. Understand?" A satisfied giggle is the answer, as he snuggles back to your side. Not that long until the effects should disappear… Jiro didn't send back a message yet. Leo's tracing your jawline with a soft touch for now. 

˙⟡

"Huh. These are really good." A clatter of silverware, as the pancake gets cut by a knife. "Of course. Anything for my (y/n). " You trusted Leo to make breakfast while doing your morning routine, as it shouldn't involve any spices. And now you're thankful that you did, as they're extremely delicious! Soft inside, with a rich, buttery flavor, and a perfect dollop of whipped cream on top. "I'll make these everyday when we're married, so you better hurry up if you want more." As he stuffs a piece into his mouth. Still wearing your clothes, too, with the hoodie you gave him last night. Knock knock. "I'll get it." Who would be here right now? Kaito and Luca should be training (much to the blond's deep dismay), and everyone else usually has errands to complete in the morning before asking you to hang out. "Oh, Jiro! Good morning." He has that usual neutral face on, as always. You move aside to let him enter. 

˙⟡

Oh hell the fuck no. This oversized homewrecker… showing up at breakfast? Bitch. If looks could kill, Jiro would be, well, probably not actually dead due to Yuri's hard work. But Leo hopes he would be! Hmph. He hasn't even doxxed anyone in three days! He deserves a reward! 

˙⟡

"I'm here for the results about yesterday's anomaly and it's effects on Kurosagi." He's looking you dead in the eye. "The seedpod that was missing from it's body was of small to medium size. Kurosagi was hit in the forehead, correct?" Remembering yesterday's events, you nod. Leo is glaring at Jiro, who either doesn't notice, or probably just doesn't care. "Accounting the seedpod's size, and the potency of the pollen, and the location that it hit… the effects should've worn off after 23 minutes." A deafening silence. Some clothes shuffling around breaks it. "If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving. They managed to capture the anomaly alive, too. Thank you for finding it. Goodbye." Even though Jiro was very close to the door, Leo was the first to exit. The tall man stops to look at you. "Are you aware if Kurosagi has recently used narcotic substances?" 

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH10

Daddy waits for you to come back from your adventures with Mommy, and he's not happy... but neither is Mommy. Can you help reconcile the two?

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit language. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Aftercare talk with Daddy. Hurt/Comfort. Jealousy? Fluff. Is kissing considered smut? (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 4.6k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5 6–7–8–9–10

A/N: RECAP: Reader (we call her Pumpkin) is in her 20s, has hair and female genitalia, suffers from depression and anxiety, and has agreed to become the little girl/submissive to a couple she's supposed to call Mommy and Daddy, who are in their early/late thirties. (I now have Pinterest boards - if you'd like some visuals/moodboards to your reading! This one made by a lovely reader, and this one that I made. Enjoy!) Daddy POV incoming, by the way!

Chapter 9 🔷️ Chapter 10 🔷️ Chapter 11

Noah paced the living room, stealing glances at his watch more often than he cared to admit. He felt antsy. Isabella wasn't back yet, but his biggest concern centered around you. He'd known she would take you on another Girls' Day Out, but if he'd known she would take you to that little cafe of hers, he would have whisked you away again. (Maybe calling her driver hadn't been the best idea, sometimes ignorance is bliss, but he was too worried to not ask around where you were.)

Isabella's collection of pets had always irked him, how she kept pulling in more and more girls for her nasty little schemes, even convincing some of his former subs to join the ranks, it felt a little bit like betrayal. But maybe he just didn't like it because he was never allowed inside. Female-only. What a waste. He understood the wish for safety and to be amongst themselves, but it all felt a little excessive. His worst fear now was that she had lured you in as well.

You were supposed to be their little girl, not another pawn to entertain the bored housewife from next door. He hoped she didn't make you do anything you didn't want. You'd only been with them for what, three days now? It must already be so overwhelming for you, partly because of him as well, but to see behind Isabella's friendly facade so quickly might be too much for you.

He'd been surprised how quickly she had adjusted to being nice and caring, a side of her he hadn't seen often, but she'd grown into her role of Mommy so fast, it had been quite impressive. Now she only had to stick to it, a trait she wasn't particularly known for. The woman could switch faces faster than he could blink sometimes. A strange talent, one you hopefully would never get to experience, at least not anytime soon.

If it were up to him, then he'd keep you in your room, hold you in his arms, spend hours, days, weeks in bed with you, and pamper the hell out of you. You wouldn't have to leave the house, unless you wanted to, and he wouldn't subject you to tiring shopping trips or beautification marathons or anything else unsettling to you. He just wanted to cuddle. And fuck. And cuddle some more. To make you feel better, to ease your worries. And because he couldn't get enough of you.

He was just rounding the kitchen island for the umpteenth time when he heard the click of the lock. You're back! Quickly crossing the kitchen, he entered the foyer the moment Isabella pulled you into the house after her, behind her the driver laden with large bags. She met Noah's gaze, fighting an eye-roll he was sure, while he forced himself to wait by the stairs, giving you space, waiting for you to come to him.

But you didn't come. You stood a little awkwardly next to Isabella, chewing on your lip, your cheeks flushed, your eyes flickering over to him, but then focusing on the floor beneath your feet. He frowned and waited, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched your Mommy instruct the driver to bring the bags upstairs, before she looked at you, caressed your blooming cheek and nodded. And only then would you walk towards him, your head bowed, looking at him from under your lashes.

He relaxed, smiling softly as you approached. “Hello, Daddy,” you whispered, timidly looking up at him.

His arms were around you in no time. “Hey pumpkin, I've missed you,” he cooed into your ear as he lifted you up, hugging you tightly. You squirmed in his hold, before he shifted you, one arm under your rear, your pelvis pressing into his hip, legs falling open, your arms slowly finding the courage to snake around his shoulders. “Did you have a nice day?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, finally warming up to him again. Whatever Isabella had put you through, it clearly influenced how easy it had been for you to be around him. He sighed, kissing the top of your head.

He held you close, feeling your soft breaths against his skin, when your Mommy chimed in once more. “Three days, Noah,” she told him, staring at him as she started ascending the stairs.

A noise of confirmation left his throat. His eyes searched your bare arms until he saw the band-aid on the right one. Too bad. But he'd already waited three days, he could wait three more until he could finally sink his cock into your tight little cunt, filling you up like he promised you he would, without having to worry about getting you pregnant.

“Did it hurt, pumpkin?” he asked quietly as he carried you into the kitchen, gently setting you down on the counter before he looked down at you with a smile.

You gave him a shrug, but couldn't meet his eyes. “It was okay,” you mumbled.

He carefully rubbed his palm over your arm, feeling the slight bump of the implant under your skin. “My brave girl,” he whispered, leaning down a little. “It'll be all worth it, trust me.” Your lips twitched, even more so when he wrapped his hands around your waist and teased his thumbs against your ribs, coaxing a little giggle out of you as he tickled you.

“Daddy!” you shriek-laughed, squirming against him.

He let go of you and grabbed your face, bending down to capture your parted lips for a quick but intense kiss, the short taste of you not enough to sate his own urges, but a nice preview of what was to come.

“So, what did you and Mommy do today, hm?” he asked nonchalantly, leaning back up, his hands caressing your warm face.

“After the doctor, we had lunch,” you started, pursing your lips as you tried to remember, your cheeks flooding with warmth as you did. “And then we... uh... we went to... Lady Noir.” He raised his eyebrows at that. “And Mommy bought some... things... and then we... we went to... a cafe...”

Keeping it vague, hm? Did she tell you to do so or was it your choice to stay away from the details? Were you too embarrassed to admit you went to a sex shop and a kinky pet cafe? Probably. He wanted to learn more, but he didn't want to push you either. In the end, it didn't matter, you were back now, back in his arms, and tomorrow was his turn again.

“Sounds fun,” he said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Was it fun?”

You looked up at him, face heating up even more under the gentle rubbing of his thumbs. A slow nod into his hands told him you at least enjoyed yourself a bit, but you did seem a little hesitant about it. Understandable. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for an innocent girl to be dragged into a sex shop and meeting the intimidating owner, and getting to see a bunch of masked and collared girls afterwards.

“Remember, pumpkin, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you have to tell us, okay? You're allowed to say no.” You're not a pet, he wanted to add, but kept it to himself.

You nodded, holding his gaze. “I know, Daddy,” you whispered, giving him a shy smile. He bent down again and pressed his forehead to yours, watching you. Then he felt your fingers brushing against his belt.

“Are you hungry, little one?” he whispered, smirking at you. When you averted your eyes, your cheeks scorching under his hands, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours, gently, soft, slow, until it was you who mirrored his motions and took the initiative.

Your hands moved around his waist, holding on, pulling him slightly closer. He felt how you spread your legs and nudged him between them, your feet hooking around the backs of his legs, while your tongue teased at the seam of his lips. He granted you access, one of his hands sliding around your head to hold you in place as the other moved down your side and rubbed along your thigh.

Noah was tongue-deep in your mouth when he paused, the hand on your leg pushed under the hem of your dress, noticing something that made him lean back and look down. You squirmed a little, your hands finding his wrist, but he still managed to pull your dress up to expose your bare cunt.

“Where are your panties, pumpkin?” he breathed against your trembling lips.

You swallowed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He watched you and waited for a reply. “I... I... uh, must have forgotten them...” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little more, straightening up to tower over you. “I lost them?” you tried again, but he only narrowed his eyes. “I... uh... A girl took them!” you finally blurted out in a strained breath, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“A girl took them?” he repeated quietly.

“In the cafe,” you croaked, still not meeting his gaze, highly embarrassed.

“Hmm,” he made, leaning his arms on either side of your hips, bending over you. “What did Mommy do? What did she tell the girls there to do to you?” he then whispered, brushing his nose against yours so you'd look at him. When you did, you blinked quickly, your eyes glistening.

You parted your lips, a little gasp escaping you, before you pressed your mouth shut again, looking away.

“Look at me, baby,” he said quietly. You did, instantly, sending a shiver down his spine. “You can tell me what she did. Or did she tell you to lie? I really don't like liars, pumpkin. I think we should be honest with each other...”

He saw and heard how you swallowed thickly, your lashes fluttering. “Please don't be mad at Mommy,” you then said barely audible. “I don't want you to fight.”

“Oh baby girl,” he sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from you, his other hand resting next to your thigh. “I won't be mad, but I need to know if she did something that you didn't like, that made you uncomfortable. She can't do that. That's not how this works!” Slowly he looked back at you. “We're supposed to make you feel better...”

Your hands found his side, small fingers digging into his hip, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “You do, you do make me feel better, you and Mommy. In your own ways...”

“What did she do, pumpkin?” he asked again, taking a step back, settling between your legs, one hand raised to rub the back of his finger along your cheek.

“She... she asked a girl to... to...” you started, but then shook your head, letting out a frustrated grunt as you looked away. “I can't say it... but... it was okay, Daddy, I didn't not like it, you know? It was different, but it was... good...”

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. “What else?” he asked curtly, his voice a little too sharp. He noticed the flinch but couldn't help his cold demeanor.

“She... she made me... uh... carry a... a... you know...”

“A what?”

“V-vib-vibra...”

“A vibrator?” he helped you out. You nodded, staring at your hands on his waist. “She made you wear a vibrator in public?”

You swallowed, biting your lip. He sighed, fighting the storm raging inside him. Isabella had always been impatient, but this was going too far. She had the right ideas, introducing you to these things, but it was all too fast. You went from being miserable and alone and sexually inexperienced to having a random girl eat your cunt in a public place, wearing a vibe, and whatever else she subjected you to.

He could tell you were loyal to her, and that was a good thing, but she couldn't manipulate you like that. You were taken advantage of, and it wasn't right. He paused, thinking back to how he'd taken advantage of your vulnerable state as well. He hadn't been very patient either, now that he thought about it. Whatever happened in the shower hadn't been planned like that, but it happened, just like the handjob after, the cuddles/dry humping at night. Had he manipulated you too?

But it had been him, your Daddy, who was allowed to do these things to you. While Mommy used foul tricks, letting others work for her, using toys, dragging you to sex shops and kink cafes, subjecting your innocent mind to all those kinds of depravities. What came next? Trying to spank your worries out of you, showing you the full delights of BDSM? He wouldn't let that happen, not anytime soon anyway. Some day, sure, but you had just started your journey into their world, leaving your old one behind. You needed more time.

He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, before he stepped in and threw his arms around you, hugging you close to his chest. You let out a surprised little squeak, but quickly mirrored the embrace.

“Daddy?” you whispered softly.

“Hm?” he hummed, not wanting to let go.

“It's okay, Daddy,” you said, your hands rubbing over his broad back. “I'm okay.”

He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with your sweet scent, calming down slowly. “Of course you are, pumpkin,” he rasped back. “My brave little girl.”

He held you for another moment, before he slowly leaned back, his hands on your arms, a gentle pressure as he looked down at you. You blinked up at him, cheeks flushed, but eyes attentive and warm.

“Listen, baby, there's nothing wrong with vibrators or having your pussy eaten – yeah, I figured that's what happened,” he added when you flinched and looked away. “I know Mommy's favorite places, I know how her beautifully dirty mind works. I was just worried she'd overwhelmed you with all that. It's going way too fast, don't you think?”

“Maybe a little,” you whispered, biting your lip. He moved a hand to your chin, making you look up at him.

“We'll take it slower from here on out, okay?” he said softly. “Cuddles on the couch, cuddles in bed, whatever happens happens, but no more visits to sex shops or letting random people pleasure you! That's mine and Mommy's job, and nobody else's.”

You watched him closely, a shy smile grazing your lips. His fingers curled around your head as he leaned closer, pulling you against him to claim your mouth. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed into him before he slipped his tongue between your lips, meeting yours, your hands grabbing at his waist as you kissed him back.

He quickly lost track of time as he sank into your sweet taste and scent and feel, his head spinning when he eventually leaned back, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Your arms snaked around his neck, holding him there, your fingers gingerly slipping into his hair. If he looked past the ups and downs, this was exactly what he had wanted. To find comfort in your embrace, to find peace in your innocence.

His arms were tight around your body as he lifted you up, settling you back on his hip. Like a child, his baby, his beautiful baby girl. He moved his hands to hold onto your rear, looking down at you as you met his gaze with big eyes, a shy little smile grazing your swollen lips, your cheeks flushed. He could get lost in you, just looking at you, feeling you, hearing your soft breaths. You were intoxicating.

“Daddy?” you broke the spell, one of your hands rubbing over his cheek, the scratch of his beard loud in his ears.

He blinked his eyes into focus. “Yes, pumpkin?”

“Can we... visit Mommy?” you then asked, biting your lip. “She's all alone upstairs...”

Tilting his head, he shifted you on his hip. “She's probably fine, changing into something more comfortable or taking a shower. Do you want to join her?”

“I...” You looked away, blushing a little more. “That's not...” You exhaled loudly through your nose before you looked back at him. “It's just... I feel a little bad... when I'm... with you, you know? I don't want her to feel left out...”

He frowned. “You think she feels left out? What makes you say that?”

“I mean... like... when I went shopping with her, and to have my... uh... well, when she made me... hm... presentable again? I mean, when I came home after that I went straight to you, completely ignoring her. That's... that's not fair, isn't it?”

Watching you as you stumbled over your words, he felt his jaw clenching. “That's why you hesitated today? To come to me?” he said quietly.

You nodded, averting your gaze. “Sorry, Daddy... I... I don't know how to... well... I want to please both of you... because you're both so good to me... but I don't know how...”

“Shh, it's alright,” he whispered, pulling you closer against him, one arm under your rear, the other holding the back of your head. “Do not stress about that, baby girl. We are all still trying to get the hang of this. We'll find our rhythm, we'll do things together, you and me, you and Mommy, and Mommy, you and me. It's new to us too, you know, to share a pretty girl like you?”

You snuggled into him, your arms tight around his neck, your soft breaths ghosting his skin. “She's not jealous?” you muttered barely audible.

He couldn't help the laugh ripping from his throat. “Oh pumpkin, your Mommy is a very passionate person, she is full of emotions, she may be a little jealous, but she will have to learn to deal with it. It was her idea after all, you know, to get a little girl, to share you with me. We're all in this together. You too have to learn to share us, it may not always be in equal parts, but we'll deal with it, it'll be okay. You will be okay when I spend special time with Mommy, right, baby?”

You leaned your head back, looking at him with a frown. “Special time?”

He smirked. “When I fuck her, pumpkin,” he said, savoring the flinch crashing through your small body. “You are the center of our attention, but before you came to us, we were people with needs too. If that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell us. We can keep to ourselves, but you can also always join us if you like. Actually, I insist on including you one day, when you're ready.”

Watching the heat wandering into your face was a tad bit too amusing to him. You squirmed a little, licking your lips, unable to meet his eyes.

“Let's ask Mommy what she thinks about that, hm?” he mused quietly, brushing his lips against your temple as he shifted you in his arm, holding you tighter.

“Okay, Daddy,” you whispered, leaning against him as he carried you back into the foyer and up the stairs.

Before they became business partners, Noah and Isabella had been lovers, or rather special friends with benefits, using each other to get off and find peace in the other's body, a foolproof way to ease any kind of tension. Though they soon noticed that they weren't made for a conventional relationship, they still decided to move in together, find a nice house at the edge of town, make it their own.

They both owned it equally, both had their own rooms in opposite wings of the house. They shared the kitchen, living room and one bedroom, previously used for when they needed more than a quick fuck in either of their beds. Somehow that bedroom had turned into their own private 'red room' (despite being decorated in neutral grays and blues), with closets filled with various toys and other accessories he couldn't wait to introduce you to as well. But all in good time.

Your room sat on the other side of the hallway, opposite their shared bedroom, and they had agreed to sleep in your bed as often as you wanted them to. As he carried you along the hallway, he realized they hadn't even given you the grand tour yet, there were more rooms you hadn't seen before, a library, a play room with pool table and dart board, an indoor pool and a gym, the garden with another pool and a hot tub, some other rooms they could turn into anything you liked. So much to discover.

For now he brought you all the way to the left where Isabella's suite was: a bedroom, large ensuite bathroom, even larger walk-in closet, an office, a hobby room, even a little kitchenette. His part of the house looked similar, only he had an additional treadmill facing the garden instead of the lavish creative outlets she had. While his side had muted colors, masculine and minimalist, hers was bright with golden accents and marble, lots of whites and soft yellows and bright oranges, the occasional beige, terracotta floors instead of dark woods. Full of flowers and big plants. It looked airy and inviting, a hint of Latin flair, warm and welcoming.

He rapped his free hand against her door and listened, while you stiffened in his hold. Looking at you, he met your gaze and understood, slowly letting you down. You gave him a soft smile and grabbed his other hand, waiting patiently beside him, so small and cute in your pink sundress. He knocked again, no response.

“Isabella?” he called, waited. There was a shuffle behind the door, and when it opened, Isabella's gaze was dark and tight when she met his.

“What do you –” she started, anger in her voice, but then her eyes flicked to your form beside him, and her features softened instantly. “Cariño?”

“We wanted to visit you, Mommy,” you whispered a little timidly, squeezing Noah's hand.

He squeezed back, then released it, moving his to rest on your back as he gave you a little nudge.

“I was about to take a shower,” Isabella said softly, focusing on you. “Do you want to join me?”

He watched the heat rise in your face again, smiling softly. “I think our little girl wants to do something with the both of us, babe,” he mused carefully.

She looked at him, the tension growing around her eyes. He knew she was about to find excuses, shut him out again, probably still mad at him for not telling her about the unplanned hiking adventure/overnight stay in the woods. He didn't wait for her to find her words, instead he took a step past you and grabbed her waist, pulling her against him. Isabella squirmed, but Noah was stronger, and before she could do anything else, he leaned down to smack his lips to hers, silencing her with a hungry kiss.

He was rougher with her than he was with you, but that was what Isabella needed, someone to ground her, hold her tightly, squeeze the frustrations out of her. Usually he'd tie her up and spank her until she cried, then fucked the rest of her pent-up emotions right out of her, finally releasing all the stress accumulated behind her pretty eyes, but for now he opted for a simple kiss, and it seemed to be enough. Her arms snaked around his waist, a firm embrace, bone crushing if she'd be any stronger, but he could handle it.

“I'm sorry about this morning,” he breathed against her lips as they parted to draw breaths.

She stared at him, her eyelashes fluttering. “Time management and communication, Noah, so important,” she sighed, smirking at him.

“I know. Let's work on that, okay? Together?”

“Okay,” she replied, leaning up to press her full lips to his once more.

They both loosened their arms around each other at the same time, then slowly leaned away and looked towards you, and he felt a little sting to his heart when he saw your expression. A mixture of confusion, happiness and maybe also that jealousy he warned you about earlier.

He extended his arm to you and you quickly grabbed his hand, letting your mixed emotions behind as you were pulled between Noah and Isabella, who both hugged you tightly, their lips finding your warm cheeks. It was a strange embrace, a tangle of limbs, awkward angles, but filled with little laughs and squeaks and chuckles. It felt good.

“Come on then,” Isabella whispered, snuggling against you while Noah kissed the top of your head, “I think we all really need that shower now. Good thing I have such a large one...”

“And an even bigger heart,” he cooed, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled back all the same.

Together, the three of you walked (stumbled) through her door into the suite, heading straight to the large bathroom. Noah held your right hand, Isabella your left, and you walked between them without fussing, following along, submitting so beautifully. Inside the vast tiled room, he stopped for a moment and looked down at you.

“And you're okay with sharing a shower with Mommy and Daddy, pumpkin?” he asked quietly. You tilted your head up and nodded, smiling at him. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” you murmured, your entire face flushed. “I... I wanna do more with... both of you...” you added even quieter, earning you a tight hug from Isabella and a warm smile from him.

“We too, mi amor, we'll start with kisses,” she said softly, pressing her lips to your cheek before grabbing Noah's neck to pull him down and kiss his jaw as well. “And hugs and cuddles and warm showers...” She inhaled deeply, her arms around your body and half of Noah's. “And eventually, hmm, maybe even tonight? We'll share a bed... and all the fun things you do in one, hm?”

She nuzzled your neck, tickling a giggle out of you, while he stood and watched his girls, his hands on both your and Isabella's back, a fuzzy warmth settling low in his stomach.

It had been a while since he'd felt this content. Never in his busy life would he have thought he'd be the domestic type, never thought about having his own kids, or building a family. It hadn't been on the agenda, didn't fit him. But now, with you, he was able to pick the best aspects of a traditional family life and make it his own, your own, their own.

You were old enough to be your own person, but in this unconventional relationship, he could still treat you like the kid he might have never wanted but now knew he needed. He needed you, his little girl, to ground him, to ease the tension, to settle down. Feel your small hands on him, your soft lips against his (around his cock), your little body under his, on top of his, beside his. You close to him, whenever he could.

That was your role, and he knew you felt the same, needed the contact as well, the reassurance, the warmth, the special attention, and he'd do anything to give it to you, however you needed it. All the time. Alone or with Isabella, who probably thought the exact same, his horny little mistress. What a lucky man he was, a little girl in one arm, a gorgeous woman in the other.

Oh he couldn't fucking wait to take this whole thing further.

Chapter 9 🔷️ Chapter 10 🔷️ Chapter 11

End notes: Daddy had his solo chapters (and took you hiking), Mommy had her solo chapters (and deeply disturbed you with her kinky side), and now all of them are in the same room, finally!!! Cue bi-panic! Or something like that... in the next chapter! :3

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: Showertime with Mommy and Daddy and you!

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