#he spent so long trying to not think of their memories together because he thought itd just bring back that heartache

[time-woods]

maybe reflecting on the past doesn't hurt as bad as you thought

closeup + version without blur

[sanemistar]

STILL LOVE YOU

contents ★ satoru x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes to lovers, 1k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event. synopsis ★ what will you do if your ex shows up unprompted in the middle of the night asking your for a second chance?

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

it was quite late at night, probably a little past midnight when you heard a knock on the door of your apartment. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you weren’t expecting any visits especially when it was this late at night. hesitant, you carefully walked up and slowly opened the door.

the moment the door was opened, you were instantly greeted with the sight of satoru, your ex boyfriend of all people, whom showed up at your door unprompted in the middle of the night. you hadn’t seen him since the breakup, so seeing him again after all that time had shaken you quite hard. past memories of when you and him were so happy and madly in love with one another floated in your mind as you reminisced about all the happy times you had spent together with him for some time.

it was at that moment when you couldn’t believe how fragile you were. like just when you thought you had already moved on and completely forgotten about him as if he had never existed, you’d been reminded of satoru yet again and the fact that you had only been pretending to be indifferent about him when in reality you still had feelings for him.

you took a look at his face, it was still the same as ever. yet, something felt off. he wasn’t smirking or grinning, he wasn’t making any playful faces. his face was blank, pale and dull. heavy dark circles were seen underneath his blue eyes and his white hair was quite disheveled. frankly, his appearance concerned you. it was your first time seeing satoru in this state, you had no idea he could look that miserable.

“what brings you here, gojo?” you sternly asked, trying your best to control your emotions and not let yourself slip up. addressing him as if he were a complete stranger to you.

satoru, who still had lingering feelings for you, who still couldn’t accept the fact that you were no longer his. had no idea as to why he showed up at your door, especially that late in the night. his body acted on its own and his feet just naturally led him to your apartment, a place where was once so familiar to him that it felt like his own home.

but deep down, he knew that he only came here because he missed you, and he wanted to see your beautiful face once again in person.

“cuz baby i…. i miss you.” he stammered as he spoke, his voice cracked as if he was trying to hold himself from crying. you felt a knot in your stomach the moment you heard him call you baby.

“i don’t think we’re in a relationship that allows you to call me that, gojo.” you emphasized on his last name, reminding him of the fact that you were no longer in a relationship.

“look, if you have nothing important to say i’m done with this conversation.” if you were to tell your past self that there’d be a day when you would talk to your beloved toru like that, she would never believe you. honestly, even you were surprised by how cruelly you sounded at that moment, but a part of you thought he deserved it for causing you pain and heartbreak the day he called it quits with you.

you were right about to slam the door shut when he put his hand on it, stopping you from doing so.

“i know i haven’t treated you right the first time and i absolutely regret it.. i’m so sorry it took me so long to realize that, but if you give me a second chance, i promise i’ll treat you right this time around.” you’d never heard satoru say he regretted something he did before, so you were quite taken aback by his statement.

he was fully aware that you were too good for him and he didn’t deserve you. after all, he had once failed to give you the love that you truly deserved.

“please baby… please come back to me..” you couldn’t believe that the satoru gojo, the most arrogant and cocky man who flaunted his powers and strength at any given chance, was right here at your door, looking at you with such a sorrowful expression on his face while desperately begging you to forgive him and allow him to be with you once more.

the part of you that still loved him, the one part of you that you’d been desperately trying to suppress, had begun to overtake you as thoughts of giving satoru a second chance began circulating in your head.

“you know what i really hate right now?” satoru fell silent as you questioned.

“i hate how i still love you.” you paused momentarily before uttering. “i still love you, toru.” you decided to put your faith in satoru once more. it was hard to admit, but it was a given fact that you still loved him despite everything that happened.

he blinked profusely, still trying to process the words he had just heard, not only did you call him by the nickname you’d given him, but also you told him you still loved him. his feelings were mutual. after all, he had never stopped loving you to begin with.

not being able to resist and hold himself back any longer, his body moved on its own yet again and he instantly ran to you as he tightly held you in his arms. he held you so tight for dear life yet at the same time his touch was so soft and gentle, full of warmth and genuine love.

“i love you too, my baby. thank you for giving me another chance to be with you. this time, i promise i’ll never make you sad.” he cried against your ears as you buried your face in his chest and began crying as well. you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, the same unforgettable, sweet smell that you had terribly missed.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @luv-lies @suguru-getos @kasukuna

[mclqren]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ★ FC43

PAIRING ✦ franco colapinto x fem!sargeant!reader

SUMMARY ✦ with your brother's seat being taken by your admirer of the past year, you try your best to stay clear, but it's hard when franco is trying so goddamn hard to get your attention [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing, very minor hate comments

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ i am NOT fluent in italian or spanish so please correct me if i've messed up on either of them! i count this as the best of both worlds because i love having franco on the grid but i'm missing my goat logan. the faceclaim i've used is marissa long but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 110,331 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername logie, my bestest friend and the best older brother i could ever ask for. i am so so SO proud of you and the journey you have had during your formula one seasons. so many memories have been made, and i know that i will never ever forget the times we spent in the williams paddock, just having fun together (& bullying alex, obviously). the williams social media page won't be the same without me posting slips of you. trust me when i say this isn't the end, but simply the beginning. lots of love always and forever, y/n 💗

comments have been restricted

logansargeant ❤️

liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 94,522 others

yourusername someone hit me up with an italian man please, i love this country

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user4 oh she's taking it

user5 mother as perrrr

user6 the sargeant genetics are LETHALLL

user7 please someone tell me why is she in italy if her brother doesn't drive for williams anymore?

user8 she's the williams social media manager!! she started in the same year as logan x

logansargeant baby sis ❤️

yourusername love you sm 💗

francolapinto did you know i'm actually half italian?

francolapinto sei molto bella🙏🙏 (you are very pretty)

user9 second year running and he's after y/n AGAIN IM CRYING

user10 after taking her brother's seat too PLEASEEE he has guts i have to give it to him

user11 FRANCO'S COMMENT I'M DYINGGGG

user12 and the way she's ignoring it too oh my days 😭 it's been a year and he's still on this

imessages ( y/n )

liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 92,801 others

yourusername week off 🍏

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user16 farm girl???

user17 where is she 😭😭

yourusername my best friend's farm 💗

user18 multi-talented girl fr

user19 she looks like she BELONGS fr

user20 she def doesn't want to go back to the old 9-5

yourusername oh def not

yourbsf my angel 🪽🤍

yourusername best time w you alwaysss 💗

francolapinto never wanted to be a goat so badly

user21 I AM PISSING MYSELF

user22 HE IS SO BLATANT AT THIS POINTTTT

user23 @/yourusername PLEASE WE NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FRANCO'S COMMENTS

user24 she def won't answer but it's still so fucking funny i can't

liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 97,210 others

yourusername most beautiful place 💗

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user28 beautyyyy

user29 please y/n we need to see your pinterest RIGHT NOW the vibes are everything

user30 okay but...you & franco??

user31 what about letting people have some privacy, hm?

user32 oh wowwww

francolapinto not as beautiful as you 😉❤️

yourusername 🤣🤣

user33 FRANCO YOU DID IT!!!

user34 watch as franco puts y/n noticed x1 in his bio now

user35 THE WAY HE ACTUALLY DID IT. GIRL...

user34 I AM CREASING I CANNOT

lilymhe baby girl 😍

yourusername my lilypad i love you to bits!!

logansargeant are you sure you and that lion aren't twins

yourusername i'm thinking we were separated at birth??

liked by francolapinto, alex_albon, and 699,303 others

tagged francolapinto

williamsracing and just like that, mr colapinto is a point scorer in formula one, in his second ever race!! congratulations franco, take a bow 👏💗

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user38 CONGRATULATIONS FRANCOOO!!

user39 big question is...which admin posted this?

user40 one MILLION percent y/n. no doubt about it.

user41 you can tell y/n posted this bc of her signature pink heart HAHA

user42 i just know somewhere franco is kicking his feet and giggling over y/n telling him to take a bow for his performance

user43 oh franco colapinto you have won me over

user44 seeing this and lowkey feeling so sad for logan

user45 no but imagine how y/n must feel?? her brother just leaving and having to post this, she must hate franco right about now

user46 honestly, judging by the post race interview, i think y/n is fine with franco scoring points, tbh!

yourusername 👏👏💗

francolapinto hearts ❤️

user47 I AM SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE??

imessages ( franco )

imessages ( y/n )

liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 101,989others

yourusername 🦢🦢

view all comments

user48 IS MISS Y/N OUT ON A DATE???

user49 facecard could kill.

user50 Y/N ON A DATE WHO CHEERED

user51 someone check up on franco like right now.

user52 either franco is the guy in the pictures and that's why he's not commenting, or he's entered a depressive state

user53 knowing his dramatic ass it could be either

alex_albon mystery man 👀🤑

yourusername shhhh albon

logansargeant i'll fight him if he hurts you 😁

yourusername love you too logie 🧸

imessages ( y/n )

liked by francolapinto, logansargeant, and 106,312 others

tagged francolapinto

yourusername city break 🇦🇷

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user54 FRANCO CAMEO FRANCO CAMEO THIS IS NOTTTT A DRILL

user55 I AM SCREAMING

user56 alexa play how you get the girl by taylor swift

user57 she's in his hometown...so this serious stuff now

user58 Y/N I LOVE YOU FOR THIS

francolapinto 😁❤️❤️

yourusername 💗💗

logansargeant willing to fly out to collect you if i have to 🫡

yourusername i promise you i'm fine 💗

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, and 1,112,091 others

tagged yourusername

francolapinto 1 AÑO DESPUÉS… ¡¡TENGO A LA CHICA!! ¡¡VAMOS!! la persona más hermosa por dentro y por fuera, con el corazón más grande que jamás haya existido. estoy tan feliz en este momento que las palabras no pueden explicarlo. te amo te amo te amo ❤️ (1 YEAR LATER… I GOT THE GIRL!! COME ON!! the most beautiful person inside and out, with the biggest heart that ever lived. i am so happy right now that words cannot explain it. i love you i love you i love you ❤️)

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user59 original y/n franco fans RISE

user60 WE ARE THE REAL WINNERS!!

user61 oh he is in love for real

user62 need someone to love me how he loves y/n

user63 their love is so so special

user64 okay but how's logan feeling about all this...? must be so awkward...

user65 judging by his comment...i think he's doing absolutely fine 🤣

logansargeant hurt her and i'm at your doorstep. 😊

francolapinto will never be a problem 🫡

yourusername you're the cutest ever

yourusername FRANCO 🤣🤣

francolapinto let me share my love for you, no?

yourusername i wanna kiss you so bad rn

logansargeant keep it pg-13 please.

yourusername logan.

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TAGS ✦ @shepgurl ; @blushmimi ; @nyxx-knight ; @fall-bambi ; @suns3treading ; @wowzees ; @d3kstar ; @poppysrin ; @ailooosworld ; @joalslibrary ; @dejavuontrack ; @dripostsstuff ; @kaylassturniolo

[rmview]

they want you back, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the enhypen boys realize they still have feelings for you after they broke up with you! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — mentions of past relationships, hurt and comfort.

hee ⊹ seung

heeseung never took relationships lightly. when he ended things with you, it wasn’t because he didn’t care. it was because he thought he owed it to himself — and to you — to confront lingering feelings for his ex. he hated hurting you, but he convinced himself it was the right decision.

months passed, and the closure he sought didn’t come. instead, it became painfully clear that his feelings for his ex had long since faded. what lingered was his guilt for breaking your heart and the empty ache of missing you.

one evening, heeseung found himself scrolling through old photos on his phone. there you were, smiling at him in that way that made everything feel lighter. his heart clenched as he realized he hadn’t smiled like that in months. without thinking, he typed a message hoping you hadn’t blocked him: “can we talk? i know i don’t deserve it, but i need to apologize.”

surprisingly, your text came a day later in agreement and heeseung spent the entire week rehearsing what he’d say when he’d see you. sitting across from you at a quiet café, he felt uncharacteristically nervous. “i’ve been a coward,” he admitted, his voice low. “i thought ending things was the right choice, but all i’ve done is regret it.”

he paused, his hands clasped tightly. “i know i hurt you, and i can’t undo that. but i need you to know… it wasn’t because i didn’t care. it’s because i was scared. scared of how much i feel for you. i’m not sure if it’s love yet, but i realize you’re someone i can be happy with. and i want that with you.”

he didn’t ask you to forgive him right away. instead, he let his actions speak. over the weeks that followed, heeseung found small ways to show you his sincerity: sending you messages that reminded him of you, leaving handwritten notes on your doorstep, and being there when you needed support.

“i’ll do whatever it takes,” he told you one evening, his gaze steady. “even if it takes years, i’ll prove to you that you’re the only one i want.”

jay ⊹

jay was confident in many things, but when it came to his feelings, he was often harder on himself than necessary. breaking up with you had been his attempt at doing the “right thing.” he thought unresolved feelings for his ex were unfair to you, and he didn’t want to risk holding you back. but what he hadn’t anticipated was how much your absence would affect him.

the realization came slowly at first — a quiet longing when he saw something that reminded him of you. then, one night, it hit him like a wave. he was sitting alone, scrolling through a playlist you’d made together. as the songs played, memories of your time together flooded back, each one sharper than the last. he felt so stupid realizing he wasted moments with someone like you over brooding feelings.

“i was an idiot,” jay muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. picking up his phone, he typed out a message: “i know i don’t deserve your time, but please, can we talk?”

your reply back was late, but a godsend, and meeting you again felt like a second chance he didn’t deserve. “i’ve spent months trying to figure out what went wrong,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “and the answer was staring me in the face the whole time. it wasn’t my ex. it wasn’t anyone else. it was me… being too blind to see what i had right in front of me.”

jay wasn’t one for empty promises. over the following weeks, he showed you his sincerity through thoughtful gestures — sending flowers with notes that said, “thinking of you today,” or surprising you with small things he remembered you loved. “i don’t want to rush you,” he told you one day. “but i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again.”

jake ⊹

jake believed in following his heart, but breaking up with you had been the hardest decision he’d ever made. he thought he needed to confront lingering feelings for his ex before moving forward, but as time passed, it became glaringly obvious: it wasn’t his ex he missed. it was you.

one evening, jake found himself at a bookstore you’d both loved. his fingers brushed over the spine of a book you’d recommended, and the memory of your excited voice came rushing back. his chest tightened as he realized how much he’d taken you for granted. he found himself staring at the book for a few moments in silent contemplation. what was wrong with him?

without overthinking, jake dialed your number, his gaze never leaving the book. “hey,” he said, when you answered after a few rings, his voice shaky. “can we meet? there’s something i need to tell you.”

when you agreed, jake felt equal parts relief and anxiety. seeing you again, his usual bright demeanor dimmed. “i was wrong,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “i thought i needed closure, but the truth is… i really needed you.”

jake poured his heart out, apologizing for the hurt he’d caused and promising to make things right. over the weeks that followed, he was relentless in his efforts to show you he’d changed. he left little notes on your doorstep, sent you your favorite snacks, and even wrote you a heartfelt letter.

“i know i don’t deserve another chance,” he told you one day. “but i’m asking for one anyway. because i truly can’t imagine my life without you. i know i hurt you once, but i promise to never make you feel that way again.”

sung ⊹ hoon

sunghoon always carried himself with an air of calm and composure, but breaking up with you had shattered that facade. he’d convinced himself that lingering feelings for his ex meant he wasn’t being fair to you. however, as days turned into weeks, he realized he had made a terrible mistake.

the memory of your shared moments haunted him — your laughter, your quirks, the way you made him feel understood in ways no one else could. he found himself going through old photos and videos that you’d take on dates and send him, his heart aching with each one he swiped through.

one day, as he passed the skating rink where you’d gone on one of your first dates, and the sight of all the sweet couples skating around only deepened the void in his chest. he couldn’t hold back anymore. sunghoon sent you a message, simple but heartfelt: “can we meet? there’s something i need to say.”

meeting you at a quiet café the next day, sunghoon struggled to find the words. he sat across from you, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. “i thought i was doing the right thing,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i needed to sort out my feelings… but all i’ve done is realize how much i missed you.”

he looked into your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze striking. “i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you. but losing you made me see that you’re the one i can’t live without.”

over the next few weeks, sunghoon showed his sincerity in quiet but meaningful ways. he’d leave handwritten letters in your mailbox, recounting the things he loved about you. he even invited you to one of his skating practices, a place he rarely shared with anyone, just to let you see a deeper part of him.

“i know i messed up,” he said one evening, his voice steady but emotional. “but if there’s even a small part of you that can forgive me, i’ll spend every day proving myself to you.”

su ⊹ noo

sunoo had always been emotionally intelligent, but even he wasn’t immune to making mistakes. breaking up with you had been an impulsive decision, driven by his insecurities. he thought he needed closure with his ex, but the moment he walked away from you, regret began to creep in.

the realization hit him fully one day as he scrolled through his phone, stumbling across a picture of the two of you. in it, you were laughing at one of his jokes, your face lit up with pure joy. his heart sank. it wasn’t just the memories he missed — it was the warmth you brought into his life.

unable to hold back after days of contemplation, sunoo sent you a text: “i know i hurt you, but can we talk? i need to explain.”

when you agreed, sunoo met you at a park you both used to visit. his usual bright energy was subdued, replaced by a nervous vulnerability. “i don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, his voice soft. “i thought i was doing the right thing by letting you go, but all i did was hurt the person i care about most.”

he paused, his eyes welling with tears. “i thought i needed to figure out my past, but i realized my future… it’s you.”

sunoo made it his mission to win back your trust. he’d send you thoughtful messages, reminding you of the little things you loved. he’d surprise you with your favorite snacks or leave flowers at your door with notes that read, “you deserve the world, and i want to be the one to give it to you.”

“i know it’ll take time,” he told you one evening, his voice earnest. “but i’m not going anywhere. i’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

jung ⊹ won

jungwon had always been the steady, thoughtful type. but even the most composed individuals could falter under pressure. breaking up with you was a decision he thought through meticulously, convinced it was the right thing to do. he believed he needed clarity about his lingering feelings for his ex before moving forward with you.

at first, he tried to rationalize his decision, telling himself it was for the best. but the emptiness that settled in his heart told a different story. every day without you felt heavier, and the clarity he sought didn’t come. instead, it was replaced by the aching realization that you were the one he truly loved.

one quiet evening, jungwon sat in his room, staring at a picture of you both on his desk. the memory of your laughter, the way your presence brought him comfort, and the love he’d seen in your eyes haunted him. he couldn’t keep pretending.

gathering his courage, jungwon called you. his voice was steady but tinged with vulnerability. “hey… i know i’m the last person you want to hear from, but could we meet? i need to talk to you.”

when you agreed, jungwon met you at a park you used to frequent. he was quiet at first, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you, guilt and longing etched into his expression. “i don’t know how to start,” he admitted softly. “i thought i was doing the right thing by letting you go. i thought i needed to figure things out… but i was wrong.”

his gaze met yours, steady despite the turmoil in his heart. “i hurt you, and i’ll regret that for the rest of my life. but i need you to know… my heart was never confused. it’s always been you.”

jungwon didn’t rush you for forgiveness. instead, he let his actions show how much he cared. over the weeks, he’d leave thoughtful messages, remembering little details about your day or sending you your favorite snacks.

he’d show up when you least expected it — not to push but simply to remind you he was there. “you deserve someone who shows you how much they care. and i want to be that person again… if you’ll let me.”

ni ⊹ ki

ni-ki had always been the youngest, but he prided himself on being mature for his age. however, when it came to relationships, he still had room to grow. breaking up with you had been his attempt at handling his feelings responsibly, but instead, it left him feeling empty and directionless.

at first, ni-ki tried to convince himself that he’d made the right choice. but the more time passed, the more he realized how much he missed you. little things — your laughter, the way you supported his dreams, the comfort of your presence — kept replaying in his mind.

one evening, ni-ki sat in his practice room, staring at his phone. his fingers hovered over the screen before he finally typed out a message: “can we meet? i need to tell you something important.”

when you agreed, ni-ki met you at a quiet spot near the dance studio. he looked nervous but determined. “i messed up,” he began, his voice low. “i thought breaking up was the right thing to do… but it wasn’t. it was the worst mistake i’ve ever made.”

he looked at you, his eyes earnest. “i thought i needed to figure out my feelings, but the truth is, i was scared. scared of how much i care about you. but now i know… you’re the one i want.”

ni-ki’s efforts to win you back were both heartfelt and creative. he’d dedicate his dance routines to you, recording them and sending you clips with messages like, “this is for you. always for you.” he’d leave small gifts with notes that said, “i’m sorry. let me make it right.”

“i’m young, and i’ve made mistakes,” he admitted one evening, his voice steady. “but i’m learning, and one thing i know for sure is that i don’t want to lose you again.”

notes: thank you for requesting! i guess i’ve been traumatizing yall with too much angst xp fluff coming soon!

[erajunex]

The House of Sin. (part 1)

Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.

Pairing: Father Charlie Mayhew x housekeeper!fem!reader

Summary: Your very religious family decides to preserve you from the evil of the world by entrusting you to Father Charlie as his housekeeper. You’re welcome in the House of Sin.

TW (for this part): NSFW. SMUT. blasphemy; mentions and references to catholic themes (some of them are prob inaccurate sorry); reader is very religious (but not innocent); mentions of blood; graphic description of self-inflicted flagellation; masturbation; voyeurism; swearing.

a/n: English is not my first language, so please be kind bc this took me so long to translate (lol), if you wanna be added to the tag-list for the next part lemme know with a comment pls

Enjoy xx

Father Charlie Mayhew had always been faithful and devoted to the promises he made before God when he decided to please Him for the rest of his earthly life, and with the same devotion he always made an effort to spread love for God within his parish.

In his whole life, he never felt the slightest desire to act in opposition to the Lord's word, he never succumbed to temptation, and his spirit never entertained the idea of sinning.

He was the perfect servant, the best guide for his parish, and for the faithful whom the Lord entrusted to him.

Or at least that was what everyone believed about him, including your parents, who thought that offering you the position of Father Charlie’s housekeeper would be the best way to protect you from the vices and dangers of the outside world.

Your father was a strict and religious man who raised you with rules and discipline, so you accepted his decisions without question.

Father Charlie knew your family well and recognized your parents' honesty and devotion, so he had high expectations for you, and you would’ve met all of them.

The initial period of living together at his house was quite peaceful, and being with him felt comfortable from the very first day. You spent your days peacefully working for him, cleaning his house and the church, doing laundry, and preparing lunch and dinner. Nevertheless, you always found a moment for prayer. You shared everything with him and you were grateful and respectful at the point you considered him a master despite his young age.

You recognized your parents' admiration for him, and you shared it too because he was a decent man who cared for all his faithful and his mission as God's servant. He was charismatic, persuasive, and seemingly flawless. To be honest, his personality intrigued you. You had to admit that sometimes you found him charming, but those were just fleeting thoughts that you quickly pushed aside— till tonight.

It’s late at night; all the lights are off, and Father Charlie has retired to his room about an hour ago.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes and are getting ready for the night. As you prepare to head to the room he had assigned to you when you first arrived, a flicker of light and subtle noise from his door catch your attention as you walk through the hallway.

At first, you think it’s just a perception, but as your feet slow down until they stop in the hallway, you realize your ears are not wrong.

Driven by curiosity you approach the door slowly, trying not to make a sound as you peek through the half-closed door to see out what is happening inside his room. But, you know, sometimes curiosity can kill.

You freeze. Your jaw drops, and your eyes widen as they look straight at the scene being etched in your memory.

Father Charlie sits at the edge of the bed, fully exposed to your gaze, the soft light casting shadows on his bare skin. His back is turned to the painting of Jesus Christ hanging on the wall, a watchful presence above him from which he is trying to hide himself.

He’s panting. He’s completely naked. With one hand around his cock.

His eyes are closed and his slightly parted lips release soft moans of pleasure, the rhythm of his breath filling the quiet room. A sheen of sweat glistens on his naked body as he keeps moving his left hand at a rapid pace, trying to set himself free from the lustful thoughts that had taken over his body as soon as possible.

Your breath breaks.

You can’t believe it. Father Charlie has succumbed to the desire of the flesh, his soul becoming stained by a sin he should never have committed. Not him. Not a priest like him.

And without knowing, he‘s pulling you into the Devil’s claws with him.

Because no matter how shocked you are, and no matter how hard you’re mentally cursing yourself for being overcome by curiosity, your eyes are glued to his magnificent body and cannot tear themselves away from it.

You are expected to go, but you can't. You don't want to.

For the first time in your whole yet short life, you hear it. That voice. The voice of temptation.

You continue to stare at him with bated breath, wishing that show will never end.

"Ah, fuck..." he groans and you shudder.

A shiver goes straight to your core, and you immediately feel an urge to clench your thighs together to hold back an unusual tickle that you had never experienced so strongly before.

However, it is not sufficient.

Forgive me, Father… you think. Your cheeks redden with shame as the last bit of reason fades away from you at that precise moment your right hand goes straight under the cloth of your sundress, and just as if it has been guided by a dark and sinister force it sneaks between your legs, right in your cotton panties.

For I have sinned.

You aren’t used to touching yourself, and even if you had done it on rare occasions you'd never imagined doing it like this— secretly watching your priest as he does the same thing.

Soon you realize that something inside you is changing rapidly. It‘s just a tiny spark, but it can set your whole body on fire in no time.

And it’s all his fault.

Your fingertips slide between your already-soaked folds, coating in juices that flow out of you like a river, and then you start teasing yourself shamefully, trying to focus on the scene in front of you to avoid those pitiful and lonely voices that keep whispering to you to stop.

“Yes…” he licks his lower lip and for a brief moment you imagine how good, how pleasant it could be the feeling of his wet tongue on your skin, exactly where your hand is. It’s so, so wrong and you know it, but you can’t control yourself. It’s overwhelming.

His nudity contrasts sharply with the solemnity of the image behind him. He looks so vulnerable, so…

“So good…” he says between moans. You want to know what he’s thinking, what kind of images are guiding his imagination— if you’re part of them too.

His forearm anchors on the mattress to balance himself, and his hips buck against his hand to gain more friction.

“Oh, God…” his broad chest is heaving with every breath that escapes his lungs as you try your best to swallow every squeak, careful not to get caught right there.

Sweat covers his forehead, small drops sliding down his ecstatic face and neck, igniting your deepest fantasies while your fingertips rub at your clit in circular motions, mimicking the pace at which he’s stroking his length.

You can’t help but look at it. Thick and veiny, the tip red and leaking with precum, your pussy throbs around nothing at the mere idea of putting his whole girth in your virgin mouth and knowing how good it could taste.

The man bites his lips and you do it too in reflection.

You are a mess. Your trembling thighs are soaked by the juices dripping from your aching pussy as you frantically touch yourself. Your entire being lies completely under the tight grip of the Devil, ensnared in a web of darkness that seeks to control every thought, feeling, and action.

His strokes become erratic, and his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of pain and bliss. He is close… and in such a short time you are too. Your teeth bite your lower lip until it bleeds, in a desperate attempt to hold back a whine. But you don't stop. You will not do it until he will too.

All of a sudden, his hand stops. A guttural sound of satisfaction slips past his throat reaching your ears as he throws his head back and the orgasm washes over him.

The tight knot in your belly snaps and thousands of shocks invade your body from head to toe. Your vision goes blurry, your mind goes fuzzy and your knees get weak like jelly.

You’ve just reached the peak without even knowing it.

Thick ropes of his white seed spill from his throbbing cock, falling right on his palm and stomach.

Your mouth waters at the sight, you can swear that if only it had been possible you’d walk into that damn room and kneel in between his huge thighs just to lick him clean and suck the soul out of him, making him cum again and again and again.

For God’s sake, those thoughts will send you straight to hell!

Silence takes his moans’ place, and his eyes open slightly as his breathing searches for a more regular pace, just like yours.

You pull out your hand from your soaked panties. A wave of post-orgasmic sense of guilt crashes over you. You have just sinned. Right now is time to go to your room and get some rest, forgetting what have just happened and never thinking again about it, and yet your eyes and your feet are stuck right here, quivering for his next moves.

Everything has been so tempting and your body wants more.

He suddenly gets up from the mattress and makes his way towards the antique dresser next to the bed. A bowl full of water is on top of it, and he quickly dips both his hands inside of it to his wrists, washing away every sign of the sinful act he had just committed—unaware it’s happened in front of you.

From that spot, his body is perfectly exposed to your gaze, and your mind takes advantage of this to explore new, undiscovered places.

He‘s tall, radiant, and huge. He looks like a classical statue. His broad chest and chiseled abs seem to be sculpted in marble, just like his thick thighs and the strong and muscular arms he usually hides under the vestments.

He’s handsome.

Only the Lord knows what those arms are capable of, how those big and veiny hands would be able to touch and grab a woman’s body- your body. How good his mouth would be able to kiss you, bite you, lick you, satisfying the most private parts of you like no one ever did. If only he didn’t have to respect the vows of celibacy and obedience... if only he didn't choose to refuse lust and resist temptation for the rest of his life…

He wipes his hands with a clean towel near the basin, heavy breathing releasing from his lungs as if he wants to get rid of that slamming weight on his shoulders. The weight of the mortal sin he has just given into, the reason why he deserves to be punished— and maybe you deserve it too.

You see him going through the drawer and picking something before he lifts the wooden kneeler to the side. And when he approaches the bed again, you recognize the scourge in his hand.

Your heartbeat down faster as soon as you realize what’s going to happen. Father Charlie places the kneeler in front of the bed, exactly where he was before, and turnes his back to you, revealing his broad shoulders and his back previously tortured by the hits he self-inflicted with the tool he’s now placing on the sheets.

A bunch of shivers flood your body from head to toe, trepassing your spine. You see the still-opened wounds and cuts on his pale skin, the clear signs of every time he sinned and begged for forgiveness.

He kneels and firmly takes the scourge in his right hand. Seven cords, seven barbs for the seven deadly sins, and seven virtues.

The mortification of the flesh.

It‘s the only way to deaden his sinful nature and bring back his focus to the only thing he pledged to honour even after his bodily death.

He rests his elbows on the board, with his back straight as he looks at the white wall in front of him, his eyes filled with certainty and confidence.

He stands right there unshaken, keeping you on edge for his next move before his lips parts and he speaks.

"Merciful Lord, I come before You seeking forgiveness and healing" with a rapid flick of his hand he whips himself violently, making you gasp in shock. You hear him holding his breath, trying his best not to cry and scream from pain, and then he spakes again.

"f-for the sin of lust that… dwells within me." another lash, another flinch from you. Cords are already leaving marks and bruises, you can feel how much they sting on his skin and on his previous wounds as the sharp edges sink on his back mercilessly.

"I confess m-my weakness in giving in to… impure desires" his stomach jolts in pain, and his dilated pupils stare blankly at the painting on the wall as his lips tremble with each syllable "and… indulging in lustful t-thoughts and actions t-that offend… You."

A lot of blood starts gushing out from his wounds, staining the cords with a bright red color.

You cover your mouth in shock. You can see the pained look on his face, pleasure has completely abandoned his now-suffering body that‘s writhing at the feeling of those rusty barbs tearing his flesh apart at every whipping, painting the cold floor with the spatters of his own blood.

Father Charlie is asking for forgiveness, pleading the Lord to save him and have mercy on his damned soul, because he is aware of the burden on his shoulders and he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

And the only way to regain his purity is through suffering, through that physical pain that can purify both his body and soul, leaving him weak and miserable like a dazed sailor who lost his compass and cannot find the horizon.

"Purify my heart" he barely mutters, too exhausted "renew my mind" his forearms lost their grip on the rubbed wood of the kneeler forcing him to cling to it as strength slowly leaves his body. You watch him with an alarmed look on your face, worried about his state "and sanctify my body as Your temple."

A final statement spoken with a broken voice before Father Charlie immediately collapses on the wooden structure, visibly in a worn out state. Spurting blood stains his bare back, his eyelids squeeze trying to kill the pain of that one last whip that completely slashed his flesh.

You accidentally step back with your left foot, producing a nearly undetectable noise that forces you to lean your hand against the wall to keep balance in an attempt not to get caught. Too late.

Father Charlie turns around quickly, towards the door he previously left slightly ajar. His gloomy eyes meet yours even if shrouded in darkness. Your heart stops in your chest, becoming like a stone falling into a bottomless pit.

Shit.

a/n: part 2?

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 3 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, explicit language, video call sex.

wc. 5k

a/n i’m already halfway done with pt 4…i have a lot of free time…

2, 3, 4,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

It had been a week, and Price couldn’t shake the knot of paranoia in his chest. Every time he saw your brother, he expected the conversation to turn, expected him to throw a punch or call him out for his disgusting actions. Price had barely slept, imagining the fallout: the disgust in your brother’s eyes, Ghost’s sharp judgment if he found out his captain was sneaking onto your streams.

But nothing had happened. Ghost remained oblivious and hadn’t acted any differently toward him. That only made it worse—because Price was certain you hadn’t forgotten. No, you had recognized him. You’d seen him.

And yet, you hadn’t said a word. The silence was eating him alive. Were you disgusted? Angry? Planning to expose him? The uncertainty was unbearable. He tried to keep his mind busy by burying himself in his work. But he was constantly plagued by the fear that he’d get a knock on his door, and it would be Ghost, ready to beat him within an inch of his life.

Price couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was maddening. Every quiet moment, every pause in the day, his thoughts drifted back to you—back to that call. The way you moved, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him, and that soft gasp when you realized who he was.

He’d spent the entire week replaying it in his mind. How you’d looked, how you’d blushed when he praised you, and the way you scrambled to end the call when recognition dawned on your face. The memory made his chest tighten and his blood heat. He knew it was wrong—knew the lines he’d crossed—but that didn’t stop him. It only made the desire worse.

Nights were the hardest. Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he could almost hear your voice again, soft and sweet, calling him “Daddy” in that timid little tone. He’d clench his fists, trying to shake the thought, but it never worked. He hated himself for it—wanted to convince himself that it was just the heat of the moment—but he knew better. You were under his skin now, and he couldn’t shake you loose.

He tried distracting himself with work. Paperwork, training schedules, anything to keep his hands busy. But every time he’d pass Ghost, that familiar pang of paranoia would hit him. What if he knows? What if you told him? It was a vicious cycle—work, worry, and want, all twisting together until he was a mess of frustration.

And then there were the quiet moments when his mind wandered without permission. He found himself wondering what you were doing now. Were you thinking about him too? Were you avoiding your streams, afraid he might appear again? Or worse—were you streaming, letting someone else watch you, hear you, make you blush like that? The thought made his jaw clench.

One night, he sat alone in his office, a glass of whiskey in hand, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. He pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over the app he’d used to find you. It would be so easy to look you up again, to click and see if you were live. But he stopped himself, setting the phone down with a growl. He couldn’t. Not again. But God, he wanted to.

For days, you stayed curled up in your pink, soft blankets, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. You should've been disgusted, horrified even, that your brother's captain—his boss-had been watching you like that. And yet, every time you thought about it, your cheeks burned for an entirely different reason.

You couldn't shake the way his deep, commanding voice had sent shivers down your spine. The way he praised you, so filthy and raw, had you plunging your fingers into your wet cunt again and again.

And the way he bossed you around, his tone laced with authority, had made your body ache in ways you didn't want to admit. You knew it was wrong-so, so wrong-but the thought of him, of how he wanted you, refused to leave your mind. It was dangerous, forbidden, and yet you couldn't stop yourself from wondering... what if it happened again?

You clutched the edge of your blanket, staring at the blank screen in front of you, your thoughts spiraling. He didn't know it was you-how could he? You'd always worn your mask, kept your identity hidden. To him, you were just another faceless streamer. Just someone he stumbled upon, nothing more. That thought gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

He couldn't possibly connect the dots. He didn't know you were his lieutenant's little sister. That made it... safe, didn't it? At least, that's what you kept telling yourself. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as your mind whispered dangerous thoughts.

Would it really be so wrong if it happened again? If you let him watch, let him command you? You reasoned it wasn't personal for him —it was just the thrill of the moment. But for you... the memory of his voice alone made your stomach twist in ways you couldn't ignore.

You bit your lip, a mixture of guilt and anticipation flooding your senses. One more time wouldn't hurt. He didn't know. He couldn't know. You conjured up an email, hoping he'd respond.

Hi! Price,

I just wanted to say how sorry I am for how our last call ended. Something personal came up, and I had to leave so suddenly... I really hope I didn't upset you.

As a way to make it up to you, l'd love to offer another video call, completely free, if you'd like. Just let me know what works best for you, and I'll make sure I'm all yours this time.

Thank you for being so understanding. I hope to hear from you soon!

Yours,

Angel

You stared at the screen, your finger hovering over the send button. The thought of him finding out it was you-your brother's captain, of all people-made your stomach flip with anxiety. What if he did recognize you? What if he went straight to your brother and told him what his little sister was doing?

The mere thought sent a chill down your spine. But... then again, what if he didn't find out? What it you were careful, kept everything just right, and he never connected the dots? Your heart raced with the risk, the thrill of the secrecy. If you could just keep your identity hidden a little longer, maybe you could let this dangerous game play out. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves. The desire to continue, to feel that rush again, gnawed at you. Your hands trembled as you clicked the send button.

John sat back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. The past week had been a blur of tension, his thoughts plagued by that night. He couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when the webcam shifted, the shock in your eyes as you recognized him.

He had barely slept since, half-expecting you to show up at his door or, worse, tell your brother what you'd seen. He opened his inbox absentmindedly, eyes scanning the subject line of a new email. It caught his attention-your name glowing back at him-and a pang of curiosity tugged at his chest. He clicked open the message and started reading, his brow furrowing as he processed your words.

"I'm so sorry how our last call ended..."

A wave of relief washed over him as he read further. You were apologizing for the way things had ended, offering to make it up to him. His fingers lingered over the screen as he reread the part about a free rescheduled call, and his heart raced. Were you serious? Or was this some sort of trap? Would your brother be on the other end of that call?

John leaned back, tension settling back into his shoulders. He could feel the heat of the situation creeping up on him again. The desire to see you, to hear you, to feel that connection again was almost too strong to resist.

John leaned back in his chair, trying to suppress the rush of emotions that flooded his chest as he remembered the way you had responded to him. The soft, breathy gasps, the way your body had moved in perfect sync with his words—it was like you had become his in that moment. He could still feel the tension in the air, how you had melted at his voice, obediently following his instructions without hesitation.

Your responses had been soft, shy, and yet there was something powerful in the way you surrendered to him, something that had stirred something deep inside him.

He hadn't expected you to listen so easily, to let go of your inhibitions like that. And the way your body had moved-slow, deliberate, responding to him like he was the only thing that mattered.

He bit his lip, remembering how he had commanded, how you had obeyed. His heart thumped in his chest as he realized just how much control he had over you, how much you had let him in. It made him want to take it further, push the limits, see just how far you'd go.

His thoughts drifted to the email now sitting in his inbox, a silent invitation from you. He couldn't stop the grin from tugging at his lips. He knew it was risky, but the temptation was too strong. He had to see you again, hear you again, and feel that same power dynamic build between you.

Dear Angel,

First off, no need to apologize-I completely understand that things can come up. That being said, Ive been thinking about our last call... and I have to admit, I haven't been able to shake the memory of it.

I'd definitely be interested in rescheduling, and I'll make sure we have a bit more time to really enjoy our time. How does tomorrow evening sound to you? I'm flexible, so just let me know what works for you.

Looking forward to it.

Best,

Price

You giggle softly, your cheeks flushing as you read his reply. The thought that he's been thinking about you too sends a thrill through you. You glance at his words about his flexibility and the teasing thought crosses your mind. You want to reply something cheeky, something bold like how you're flexible too, and how he can bend you however he wants. You could say it... something bold, something that would make him want you more.

But you bite your lip, hesitant. Instead, you type a more subtle response, keeping your playful nature intact, but holding back the risqué thoughts.

Price,

That sounds perfect. I'll make myself available, just let me know what time specifically works for you. Can't wait to talk again soon.

Yours,

Angel

You lie in bed, the soft sheets wrapped around you as your mind drifts, you can't help but imagine how you'll look on the next call-how you'll make sure every inch of you is perfect for him. You run your fingers through your hair, mentally picturing yourself in the right lighting, the right angle.

You want to be flawless, to catch his attention in a way that makes him crave you more. The thought of impressing him, of hearing his approval, fills you with anticipation.

You slip out of bed, the warmth of the blankets leaving you with a soft shiver. You know exactly what you need, and the idea of finding the perfect lingerie set for him sends a thrill through your body. You quickly get dressed, pulling on something comfortable, and head out to the nearest Victoria's Secret, your mind racing with anticipation.

As you walk through the store, your fingers graze the delicate fabrics, envisioning how it will look on you. You want it to be just right, so perfect for him.

A stunning pink lace lingerie set catches your eye. The corset is beautiful, hugging the waist in all the right places, cinching you in perfectly, making your curves pop. The lace details are delicate, almost fragile, and the tiny bows scattered along it only add to the allure.

Attached to the corset is a skirt made of the same soft pink lace, flowing gently around your hips, teasing just enough.

But it's the garters and thigh-high stockings that really seal the deal. The set is perfect-sexy, feminine, and exactly what you need to make an unforgettable impression. You bite your lip, already imagining how it'll look when you wear it, and you can't help but feel a little thrill run through you at the thought of what's to come.

The next day, you wake up with a flutter of nerves in your stomach, the excitement building as the time for your call draws near. You spend the entire morning getting ready, carefully setting the mood for what's about to unfold.

You start with a long, hot shower, letting the water relax your muscles as you shave every inch of your skin. The scent of your favorite body wash fills the air, and once you're done, you lotion every part of your body, making your skin soft and silky to the touch. You follow with a layer of oil, making sure you glow. You even powder lightly, giving yourself a flawless finish, as if you're preparing for a show, not just a call.

Even though he can't smell you through the screen, you spritz your best perfume- something light, fresh, and sweet-just for the touch of confidence it gives you. It's your little secret, and it makes you feel ready.

You curl your hair perfectly, each wave soft and bouncy, framing your face just the way you like it. When you step back and look at yourself in the mirror, you feel... different. You feel empowered, beautiful, ready. The lingerie set you picked out is waiting for you, laid neatly on your bed.

As the time ticks closer, you take one last glance around your room, making sure everything is just as you want it. Even your bed is perfectly made, the soft sheets and pillows arranged just so, setting the stage for the night ahead. Your heart races with anticipation, knowing every detail is about to fall into place.

You move toward your setup, carefully adjusting your webcam, making sure the angle captures just the right view. Then, you flick on your setup lights, but only direct them toward the bed. The soft glow they cast highlights the space perfectly, making the room feel inviting and intimate. With a deep breath, you switch off your bedroom lights, letting the cool darkness surround you. The only illumination now comes from the candles you've scattered around the room. Their dancing flames flicker softly, casting shadows that add an alluring, romantic vibe to the room. The air feels charged, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.

Everything is set. All that's left is the call. Your nerves mingle with excitement, knowing this is the moment you've been waiting for.

With a deep breath, you step into the lingerie, feeling the soft lace hug your body in all the right ways. The corset cinches your waist, accentuating your curves, while the delicate lace feels like a second skin. You pull on the matching panties, the fabric smooth and soft against your skin.

Carefully, you adjust the tiny skirt, letting it fall perfectly over your hips. It's light, teasing, and just enough to make the outfit feel complete. You attach the stockings to the garters, feeling the smooth fabric stretch over your legs, the garters snug against your thighs, holding them in place.

The set fits you perfectly, every detail just as it should be. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and a little nervousness, knowing that everything is ready now. The candles flicker in the dim room, casting soft light over the delicate lace. You take a final breath, steeling yourself for the call that's about to begin.

You reach for your little white lace mask, your fingers brushing over the delicate fabric. It's the finishing touch. You tie it carefully behind your head, adjusting it so it sits perfectly, framing your eyes and cheeks.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your legs crossed delicately, hands resting in your lap as you try to calm your racing heart. The soft glow from the setup lights bathes you in a flattering hue, while the flickering candlelight creates an intimate ambiance around the room.

You glance at the screen, the little "connecting" symbol spinning as you wait for him to join. Every second feels like an eternity, your nerves buzzing with anticipation.

You adjust the tiny skirt once more, smoothing it down over your thighs, and take a slow, steadying breath. The moment the screen flickers to life, your heart skips a beat. His face appears, and you're immediately struck by the way his sharp features soften slightly as he takes you in. You can see his jaw tighten, his eyes scanning the screen, taking in every detail of you.

You bite your lip, your voice soft as you finally speak.

"Hi..."

The moment his face appears on the screen, he's completely silent. His dark eyes roam over you slowly, taking in every painstaking detail-the delicate pink lingerie hugging your body, the way your perfectly curled hair frames your face, the soft glow of your skin in the candlelight.

His gaze lingers, almost reverent, as though he's trying to memorize every inch of you. The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a faint smirk, but his silence speaks louder than any words could. It's in the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, the way his eyes darken with something raw and unrestrained.

For a moment, the tension hangs thick between you, his voice caught somewhere in his throat. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough, and thick with desire. "Christ... you're perfect."

You smile softly, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let your eyes flicker down shyly for a moment before meeting his again. "Sorry about how I ended our last call...something came up" you say softly, forcing a polite smile. Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is racing. You can still remember the moment you realized who he was, the rush of shock that made you end the call so abruptly. But you've convinced yourself that he doesn't know, that he couldn't possibly have pieced it together.

On the other side of the screen, his smirk twitches, subtle but unmistakable. His sharp eyes linger on you a little too long, and there's something in his expression —a flicker of amusement, maybe even satisfaction-that makes your stomach twist. He leans back slightly, his tone casual but laced with a knowing edge.

"Something came up, huh?" he repeats, almost like he's testing you. But he doesn't push, letting the moment hang between you.

You nod quickly, desperate to keep the air light, unaware that he already knows exactly why you ended the call-and that he's watching you closely, waiting for you to slip. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he says, leaning in just a little closer, his voice smooth, almost reassuring, "I understand. Things come up. We're good, yeah?"

You clear your throat, trying to shake off the awkwardness that lingers in the air. "So, how've you been?" you ask, your voice a little softer than usual, almost uncertain. You can't help the way your nerves spike, knowing exactly who he is-your brother's boss, a military captain in his 40s. And yet, here he is, sitting across from you on a video call, just another man on the other side of the screen. But it's not just any call-it's this call. This man, so authoritative in his world, is sitting here, watching you.

Price can't help but smile as you talk to him, he knows you're lying. He doesn't call you out on it, but he's enjoying the fact that you don't know that he knows. He can tell just by the sound of your voice alone that you're nervous, but you're trying to act polite.

"I've been good, darlin". Been missing you though", he responds with a soft chuckle. He tries not to sound too desperate or obvious, he wants to play along and see how long it'll take you to crack. You can't help but smile, the warmth spreading across your face as the sound of his voice lingers in your mind. You let out a little giggle, almost shy, but it escapes before you can stop it. "Really?" you ask.

Price can't help but smirk at your school girl giggle, the sound of which seems to go straight to his core. "Yes, really" he responds playfully. "I've been thinking about you a lot, doll" he adds, his voice low. You shift on your bed, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks. The way he's looking at you, the way his words hang in the air, makes your heart race and your stomach flutter. You can't help but feel giddy, your body betraying your attempt to stay composed.

“...Thinking about me how?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, and you can't quite bring yourself to meet his gaze. There's a pause on Price's end, a moment that seems to stretch on into eternity as he stares at you through the screen. "Oh, you want specific details, huh darling?" he asks lowly, his eyes roaming over you. He can barely keep his voice steady, his body is heating up just looking at you.

You nod softly, your fingers nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt, twisting and turning as you try to steady your breath. The quiet tension between you both feels like it's building with every second. You can't help but feel a little shy under his gaze, yet at the same time, the thrill of it all keeps you grounded, your curiosity pushing you to want to know more.

You glance up briefly, meeting his eyes for just a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. “..l want to know" you murmur, your voice soft but eager. Price's gaze is intense as he stares deeply into your eyes through the screen, taking in your every move.

Your shyness is only making Price want you even more, and the tension between you is growing. When you tell him you want to know his lips curve into a smirk, his eyes flickering over your body. He leans forward, the whiskey glass dangling loosely from his fingers, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Been thinking about that tight little cunt of yours, mostly. Fantasizing about bending you over every fucking surface I see"

Price's blunt words have a powerful effect on you, they make your mind go blank for an instance before a wave of heat washes over you, his voice alone is enough to drive you insane. He's watching you intensely through the screen, taking in your reaction to his filthily words.

"You like the sound of that, baby?" he asks with a smirk, his eyes roaming over you. Price's own words make his own mind start to wander, images of you writhing under him, bent over his desk flooding his mind. "I've been thinking about your soft little moans" he says in a low voice, his eyes roaming over you on the screen. "I've been thinking about how badly I want my hands on you"

Price notices the way your thighs clench in response to his words, and it ignites something in him. "Oh, darlin...are you getting excited?" he asks with a grin, his tone a little teasing. He sets the whiskey glass down, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches down to adjust his pants, making sure his growing erection is comfortable. "I can tell by the way you're squeezing those thighs together. You're fucking dripping for me, aren't vou. andel?"

Price can't help but admire you through the screen, his eyes darkened with intensity and desire. His hand reaches down to subtly adjust the growing bulge in his pants, trying to ignore the ache in his groin. Your legs are squeezing together, as if trying to find some sort of relief for the ache that's building between your legs.

Your face is flushed, your breathing is becoming more erratic, and you're struggling to keep your eyes on him without looking away out of shyness. Price's voice drops even lower, smooth and commanding, as his gaze locks onto yours.

"Call me daddy," he says, each word deliberate, like a challenge and a request all at once. He leans forward slightly, his tone thick with desire, as he adds, "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You blush, the warmth creeping up your neck as you nod, your voice barely a whisper.

'Yes" you reply softly, the word slipping out almost shyly. Price's gaze sharpens, his lips curling into a small smirk. "I want to hear you say it," he commands gently, his tone firm but not unkind. "Say it for me, sweetheart." The room feels heavier with his words, the air thick with tension as he waits, his eyes never leaving you, eager for your response.

You whisper it, barely above a breath, the words almost lost in the quiet room “....Yes, daddy.." you murmur, your face flushed with warmth as you feel his gaze linger on you, intense and expectant. The way the words feel leaving your lips sends a wave of nervous excitement through you, making your heart race all over again.

Price's whole body almost shudders as he hears you call him that, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. It's almost too much, hearing you refer to him like that.It's a power dynamic that he never knew he craved, until he met you. He takes a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his own desire under control. "Good girl" he praises, watching you closely to see how you react to his words.

The soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, a sound so quiet, yet it doesn't go unnoticed.

Price's smirk deepens as he watches you, the shift in your demeanor not lost on him. He can see how his words are affecting you, how they make you tremble, and it only fuels the desire that's already burning inside him.

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a lower, more possessive tone. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, the words like a caress. "Let me hear more of that." His eyes remain locked on yours, searching for every reaction, every tiny movement you make.

He smirks as he sees your reaction, clearly savoring the effect his words have on you. "Such a good girl, making those sweet little noises for Daddy." He leans back, purposely giving you a glimpse of his muscular frame through his partially unbuttoned shirt.

His voice drops to a commanding growl as his eyes rake hungrily over your image on the screen. "Strip for me, angel. Nice and slow. Let Daddy see that gorgeous body he's been jerking off to every fucking night."

“Yes, daddy" you slip off your panties, tossing them to the end of bed. "Leave the stockings on," he orders, his tone smooth and firm. You slide your fingers over the delicate lace of your lingerie, the fabric clinging to your body just enough to tease, before you begin to pull it away slowly, deliberately. The tension in the air grows thick as you reveal more of you skin, each inch of you body exposed with a careful, almost tantalizing slowness.

Your hands trail down your sides, feeling the smoothness of your skin as you slides the fabric down, the lace brushing against you hips before it slips completely off. You don't rush, letting each moment stretch out, letting the anticipation build. You let the lingerie drop to the floor with a soft flutter, you body now fully exposed, save for the stockings you've kept on, the lace clinging to your legs, a final piece of the puzzle that leaves just enough to the imagination. The room is heavy with your movements, the way your eyes flick up to meet his, revealing just how much you're willing to give in this moment.

He watches with bated breath as you slowly reveal your body, his heart pounding in his chest like a fucking war drum. Every inch of exposed skin makes his mouth water, his dick hardening further in his pants. "Fuck, look at you...like a goddamn wet dream." He reaches out, his finger hovering over the screen, as if he could touch you through it. "I want to see those stockings, angel. I want to see you stand up and let me see how they cling to those fucking perfect legs of yours."

You step off the bed, moving the webcam back as you stand. His eyes lock onto your legs, the black lace stockings clinging to your shapely thighs like a second skin. He swallows hard, his mind racing with images of running his hands up those silky legs. "Turn around"

You turn obediently facing your bed.

He drinks in the view of your back, the way the stockings disappear into the curve of your backside, leaving the rest of you bare. He can't help but notice the slight sway of your hips as you turn. "Bend over," he growls. You can hear him fumbling with something before the sound of a zipper being unzipped, you try to stand and turn to see him.

"Stay," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

He wraps his fingers around his length, slowly stroking himself as he watches you bent over, the lace stockings hugging your thighs. You let out a frustrated whine "I wanna see you.."

"Not yet," he murmurs, his eyes glued to the screen as he continues to slowly stroke himself, the tip of his thumb rubbing over the sensitive head each time he reaches the top. "Please daddy?"

His hand pauses, his thumb hovering over the tip as he hears those words. He can feel his body tensing, ready to snap. "You calling me daddy isn't going to make me show you," he says gruffly. "Spread them wider," he orders, his voice low and demanding. He watches intently as you comply, the lace stockings stretching taut over your thighs as you widen your stance.

"Put your hand between your legs and rub your fucking cunt," he growls, his voice rough and commanding. He starts to stroke himself faster, watching with rapt attention as he waits for you to follow his orders.

"Slowly." You lift you upper half off the bed enough to slide your hand down to your dripping wet pussy. You let you a whine as you start to rub yourself painfully slow.

He watches intently, his cock throbbing in his hand as he sees your fingers disappear between your legs, moving languidly over your sex. The sight of your slow, teasing touches makes his teeth grind with barely restrained desire.* "Fuck, that's it..."

His eyes narrow as he sees you try to push your fingers inside. "Did I say you could fuck yourself with your fingers?" he snaps, his grip tightening around his cock.

"No, I told you to fucking rub, not shove your fingers in like a goddamn whore."

"Im sorry daddy.."

"You'd better be," he growls, his face contorting with anger and unsatisfied lust. "Now spread your legs wider and rub slower," he demands, his voice dripping with authority and unspent desire. "I want to see your fingers barely touching your little pink folds."

"No please-"

"Yes, because if you don't start fucking listening and doing exactly as I say, I'll hang up this call and leave you fucking spread open and desperate," he interrupts harshly. "So you'd better start rubbing that fucking pussy like I told you before I lose my patience."

"No! i'll listen I promise!"

He watches closely, his cock throbbing as he sees your fingers quiver against your mound, barely grazing the swollen flesh. Each feather-light stroke over your clit makes his breath hitch. "That's it... fuck," he growls approvingly, starting to stroke himself faster.

"You're doing so good being a good girl and listening," he praises softly, his tone deceivingly gentle as he continues to watch your slow, torturous rubs. "But you know what else I want?"

"What daddy?"

"I want to see you spread your lips open with your fingers," he orders, his voice low and thick with desire.

"Use your index and middle finger, spread them open wide so I can see that fucking pink hole." You moan into the bed as you comply.

His eyes widen as he sees your fingers part your lips, revealing the glistening pink interior of your pussy. He can see the head of your clit peeking out from between your folds, and the way your inner lips are slightly puffy and swollen. "Fuck... look at that,"

He continues stroking himself, faster now, his breathing heavier as he takes in the vulgar sight of your exposed sex. His cock throbs in his hand, leaking precum. "Keep holding yourself open," he commands,

"use your other hand and rub your fucking clit. Gentle.'

"Please daddy" your other hand goes down to rub your clit. His cock twitches as he watches you hesitantly start to rub your clit, your fingers moving in cautious circles. "Yeah, just like that," he encourages hoarsely, stroking himself in tandem with your movements. "Nice and slow, get yourself fucking wet."

He watches intently as your fingers circle faster, your breathing growing more labored with each passing second. The sight of your fingers glistening with arousal makes his cock ache with need. "Look at that fucking pussy, getting all wet for me," he murmurs approvingly.

"Please let me-"

He squeezes his throbbing cock harder, feeling a bead of precum trickle down the shaft as he imagines sliding into your slick heat. "Fuck, I wish I was there, burying myself deep in this tight little pussy"

"I need you-*

The conversation takes a subtle shift as Price leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his intense gaze locked on you through the screen. His voice, low and deliberate, cuts through the quiet hum of the call.

"You know, sweetheart," he starts, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, "this would be so much better if I were there in person." You stand up from the bed, turning to face the webcam.

The weight of his words makes your heart skip, and you pause, your hands stilling on the bedspread. He studies your reaction, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he already knows the effect he's having on you. "What do you say, doll?" he continues, his tone smooth and confident, laced with something deeper.

“I could come over... see you for real." He lets the suggestion hang in the air, watching as your eyes widen slightly, your cheeks flushing at the thought. "No cameras, no screens. Just you and me."

[redeemingvillains]

the new girl (pt.2) - mattheo riddle

summary: you come to find that keeping your situationship with mattheo a secret is harder than you anticipated.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: suggestive content, 18+, please read responsibly my dears.

a/n: dedicated to the brilliant person who thought mattheo should be italian. i am kissing you.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ part one here

Mattheo’s lips glided over your neck, alternating in a pattern of kissing and sucking that had your eyes fluttering closed as his hands wandered over your body.

“How long are we going to keep this a secret, bella?” he murmured against you without ceasing.

“Mmm, why? Aren’t you having fun?” you responded coyly, your own hands moving to untuck his shirt, to run your fingers over the firmness of his abs.

His body was electric for you and his mind wiped completely at the sensation of your touch as he pulled back to take in the vision of you, pinned against the wall, the way your heavily lidded eyes met his, unwavering, and the way you subtly pouted at the loss of contact, if only for a second before he kissed you hungrily.

“F’course I’m having fun” he mumbled against you. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you to my room every once and awhile, as nice as these accommodations are” he said, referring to the broom closet you were squeezed into.

“I got here three weeks ago and I’ve spent nearly every day since like… this” you said breathlessly as his hands wound into your hair, kissing you deeper.

“So?” he said, in the briefest pause.

“So I don’t want people to draw conclusions… I don’t want to get a reputation.”

“And what reputation would that be cara mia, hmm?” he asked as his hands wound down your body.

“That you have good taste?” he prompted, his fingers dancing over the waistline of your skirt.

“That you like a bad boy?” he continued, his voice huskier as his hand slipped beneath your skirt and you could feel the cool metal of his ringed fingers against the inside of your thigh.

Your body shuddered in response. I don’t want people to think I’m…easy you thought, even though you knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone else, but there was something about Mattheo was simply irresistible, eclipsing your every waking thought and you had a sneaking suspicion he felt the same way.

“Maybe we wait—” you started as his fingers brushed against you, exactly where you wanted them and your breath hitched “—a little while longer” you whispered.”

“Whatever you say, principessa” he said before losing himself in you.

Mattheo was so fucking smitten with you he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He loved the thrill of your current… arrangement… how exhilarating it was trying to rile you up and keep you quiet at the same time as you snuck into broom closets, abandoned bathrooms and the deepest corner of the restricted section of the library to be together. You swore to him over and over again that this was totally out of character for you, that you never did anything like this before, and that drove him even crazier, knowing that he brought out a side of you that simply couldn’t get enough of him, especially because he felt the same way.

But despite the heady cloud of lust and adoration that seemed to carry him throughout his day, he couldn’t forget the words his friends had said about you that occasionally echoed in his subconscious.

 “She’s all anyone can talk about”

“I would take a bludger straight to the head for just a taste of that”

His palms curled into fists at the memory until he flexed and released them. His friends knew better than to run their mouths like that now, but he was quickly finding that only left him with the rest of the school to deal with.

In potions he could hear Cedric Diggory and Michael Corner talking about you, how hot you were, debating again if it was true that you had dated professional quidditch players, a question that kept resurfacing in a way that was beginning to bother him. He turned around to glare at them but when they caught his eye, he realized he had nothing to say and no reason to stop them, so instead he had to sit through the rest of the class nearly shaking with fury at their comments.

Then it was his teammates in the locker room before quidditch practice, placing bets on who would be the lucky guy to get with you first. He slammed his locker closed and stormed onto the field.

But it all came to a head when he passed you in the corridor, you breezed by each other, each surrounded by your group of friends and enough students that the burning gaze you exchanged with one another went completely unnoticed, even though he picked up the way you subtly bit your bottom lip at him, a tell he’d come to know as you being incredibly turned on. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw you over his shoulder right there as you passed by but then a voice reverberated in the hall.

“YN! YN!” it shouted and he turned to see Seamus Finnegan yell at you as you passed him by.

“Want to see my wand, beautiful? It’s solid oak and 12 inches long!” His comment was met with a host of laughs and jeers from other Gryffindors and you rolled your eyes in a way that made it seem like this sort of thing happened to you all the time. Mattheo’s blood was boiling and he realized he was creating a commotion all his own by the way he was standing still and staring at you in the crowded thruway, his face grimaced and the tic on his jaw evident. Your cheeks flushed at the look of fury on his face until one of your girlfriends pulled you away.

That night in the library, you traced your fingers over the ridges of his bruised and battered knuckles before your eyes flickered to his, doe-like and innocent as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“What happened?” you whispered.

“S’nothing” he said, gently pulling his hand from your grasp and moving to cup your face, desperate to touch you, to kiss you.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” you pressed.  

He shook his head, blowing the comment off and moving closer to you until you said, “And what might Mr. Finnegan look like at the moment?”

“Like he’s taking a good, long, fucking nap in the infirmary with a pair of black eyes” Mattheo said, his voice low and rough.

And before you could comment, he added, “And I don’t want to spend another minute with you hearing another bloke’s name on those lips” as he kissed you firmly, seductively and grasped your face in his hands.

And then you were awash with him again, adrift in the sensation you’d come to crave from him, dripping with an air of possessiveness that had you coming apart faster than you had any time before.

You rode the high of Mattheo knocking someone out in your honor for days. The perfect combination of the way he lavished you and equally had such a capacity for violence excited you, thrilled you.

Your mind was drifting in and out of thoughts of him as you re-applied your lipgloss in the bathroom when you heard Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass chatting a few sinks over.

“Are Nicole and Mattheo still hooking up?” Astoria asked, catching your attention.

“She said he’s been ghosting her” Pansy replied. “Why, you want in on that?” she joked.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it, haven’t you? You heard what she said about him.”

“Gods yes” Pansy agreed. “Maybe send him a little pic, you know he can’t resist that.”

They brushed by you and you realized your hands were shaking as you gripped the sink in front of you so tightly your knuckles were white.

That night Mattheo noticed something decidedly different about you, the way you twirled your tongue with his, the way you ran your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and sent shivers up his spine, like you were trying to tell him something without words, until finally your hands were on his belt and you pulled back from his lips for just a moment.

“Maybe this doesn’t have to be a secret anymore?” you said quietly.

His heart leapt in his chest, whether at the precarious position of your fingers at the present moment or the words you’d said, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not complaining, but why the sudden change of heart?” he asked.

You pouted and fidgeted and he realized there was no facial expression you could make that didn’t make him want to do absolutely sinful things to you as he kissed your pouted lips, turning them into a smile.

“Hang on. This doesn’t have anything to do with Nicole and Astoria getting expelled today, does it?" he said, a smirk blossoming on his lips in revelation. "I heard they had a bag of weed and a load of enchanted quills in their rooms.”   

Your eyes glinted as they flickered to his and you tugged him closer to you by his belt, softly biting your bottom lip as you shrugged halfheartedly, daring him to say more.

I fucking love this girl he thought clearly.

“If me spending every night on my knees for you wasn’t clear, cara mia, I am absolutely mental over you. And I’d love nothing more than for every girl in this school to know it, to know that I’m yours. Va bene?”

“Molto bene” you said, drawing the words out against his lips as you enveloped them, the sound of his native language coming from you demolishing him as he pulled you tightly against his chest.

@kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @elsie-bells @hisparentsgallerryy @the-sylver-dragon @r-a-c-h-e-l @noodleboyluke @slutfordpr

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Can you do poly!wolfstar x reader who is normally a brilliant student but since the start of the year she’s just been… not? And I mean failing most of her classes, procrastinating more than usual, etc. Like the material just doesn’t click in her head anymore and she feels… I don’t wanna say embarrassed, but yeah maybe a bit embarrassed

Thank you for requesting angel! I hope you know that what Sirius and Remus say in this fic is true, and though grades are never a real indicator of your intelligence you can always improve them <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Oh,” Remus says from the kitchen, over the sound of chopping. “Dovey, did you get your mark back on that essay yet?”

A newly familiar brand of self-loathing spreads through your gut. “Mhm,” you hum, half hoping he won’t hear. 

“How was it?” 

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, staring unseeingly at the assignment you’re meant to be doing on your laptop. You know Remus doesn’t mean to pester you. He’s only curious because you’d spent a rushed evening writing the essay at the last minute and he likely remembers your panic; he has no reason to think you’ve done anything but well, as he’s used to with you. Still, you wish he had a worse memory and perhaps cared less. 

“Fine,” you say. 

It’s not a lie, though the half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. It was, by definition, fine. You’d received a passing mark, though just barely. You shouldn’t have been surprised; the essay had been a last-minute scramble and had probably read like one, your ideas half formed and structured only coherently enough that you thought you might coast by with a B. Realistically, you’d known this professor was too strict to let you do that. 

“That’s good,” Remus hums, appeased. You’re lucky he’s not nearby enough to read the guilt on your face. 

The sharp tang of blood spreads through your mouth as you navigate to a new tab. You haven’t thought much about what effect a C would have on your mark in the class. You’ve avoided thinking about it much at all. Still, the essay was a weighty assignment, so maybe there’s a chance that C could have buoyed you above failing…

You don’t hear Sirius coming up behind the couch. He’s been bouncing between you and Remus all evening, no task of his own but happy to distract you both from yours. You register his arms coming around your front right as he registers the marks on your screen.

You slam your laptop shut. 

Sirius says your name, soft with surprise. 

“You snuck up on me.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he says. It’s not an apology, but almost. “How long have—why haven’t you said anything?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You feel tears pressing at your throat and you shove them down. “It’s embarrassing.” 

Sirius makes a soft sound, chin landing gently in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His thumb strokes over your abdomen. “Oh, my girl…” 

“Everything alright?” Remus’ chopping has stopped. Although he can’t see you, he can still detect a somber tone. 

Sirius is quiet. He’s not going to give you away, you know. But to avoid having secrets between the three of you, you have to come clean to Remus yourself. 

“Yeah,” you say with forced lightness. Your stomach is in knots. “Everything’s fine, I’m just not doing very well in school.” 

“Oh.” Remus appears from inside the kitchen. He comes toward you with brows drawn together, not in disappointment but in concern. “Anything I can help with?” 

Your throat closes up at how he offers it so easily. You give him a watery smile. “I don’t think so.” 

Sirius’ arms stiffen at the squeak of your voice. “Hey,” he says, rubbing your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just school.” 

You try to stay quiet as a tiny sob bullies its way out of you. It used to be just school for you. Simple, routine, nothing you had to work terribly hard at. It mattered, but not much, because you never had to worry about it. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you admit as Remus comes to sit beside you, sympathy digging into the space between his brows. “I just can’t—it’s like I can’t do anything this year. I’m failing.” 

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Sirius lets you go so Remus can draw you into a hug. You curl against him, humiliated and yet desperate for comfort. “You’re not failing.” 

“I literally am.” 

“Maybe,” he says calmly, “but Sirius is right. It’s only school. You’re only failing some classes, not failing in general. Don’t start telling yourself you’re not brilliant.” 

You’re quiet, sniffling. Remus’ silence is knowing. He rubs up and down between your shoulder blades in slow, short strokes. He has a way of always saying what you’re really upset about.

“You’re still brilliant,” he says. You hide your face in his jumper, steeping in your shame. 

“You can come back from failing a few classes,” Sirius tells you. “I know you’re not used to it, but you’re only having an off term, sweetness. It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out.” 

“I don’t—” You sniff hard, pulling away from Remus to wipe under your eyes. “I don’t think I have time to figure it out.” 

“You may not be able to pass this term,” Remus agrees. Your face tightens at the confirmation, but he goes on gently, “That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. You can sort it out for the next one. We’ll help you. It’ll only be one bad term, you can move on from it.” 

“People do it all the time.” Sirius leans over the back of the couch, kissing your shoulder. “It doesn’t mean anything about you. Just that you had a rough go.” 

You tilt your head so it touches his lightly, the smallest token of affection. Sirius rewards you by cupping your chin in his hand, tilting your head back so he can smile down at you. He thumbs a couple of tears off your cheeks. 

“You’re both being very reasonable,” you say quietly. “If you loved me you’d tar and feather me.” 

“You know, we so would,” Sirius bends to kiss your nose, “because we do love you, but unfortunately the tar still hasn’t been replenished from last month’s public humiliation.” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart,” Remus chides, rubbing your arm. “It’s only been one term.” 

“Mm, also true,” says Sirius. “Usually we don’t tar and feather anyone until at least three.” 

At last his teasing gets a smile out of you, albeit a small, begrudging one. Sirius grins widely in response. 

He stamps his lips on your forehead, voice dropping into a more sincere register. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed of, lovely girl. We’ll get past it, yeah?”

You find that you believe him. 

[delulujuls]

young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

[luveline]

could you do prince steve casually letting "i love you" slip for the first time on accident during like the most random moment

like maybe he knows he loves her and he’s stressing trying to figure out how to tell her and it slips and he starts rushing out an explanation on how it wasn't supposed to happen that way (and she’s probably freaking out lol but trying to keep it together)

prince steve soulmate au | ty for requesting!

Steve’s laying on a hammock hung between two apple blossom trees behind the royal cabin when you track him down that evening. He doesn’t usually spend time away from you, which sounds weird, but he’s just been so friendly. 

Maybe on a high of finding his soul mate. Maybe because he really thinks you’re as beautiful as he suggests. You still have the memory of you both in your finery, all those jewels and silks, standing across from one another in front of a crowd of strangers as he mouthed, “You look so beautiful.” Emphatically. Like he really meant it. 

“Hi,” you say shyly. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, lifting his head, the hammock rocking slightly in the breeze, “come over here.” 

“Where have you been?” you ask. 

“How clingy of you.” 

“Sorry, just… you’ve spent every minute of the day with me for the last two weeks…” 

His smile turns serious. “I’m kidding! Kidding, and offended it took so long for you to come find me. Come over here.” 

You cross the garden, green grass and small purple daisies crinkling under your feet. You stop by his hammock, but he gestures for you to keep coming. 

“What, you want me to lay down with you? Can that support both of us?” 

“Sure it can, could you quit worrying?” He holds his arms out. 

Getting into a hammock isn’t as easy as he seems to think, but perhaps he’s used to it. You’re not, and you struggle despite his arms out for you, and the leg he plants to stop the whole thing from tipping as you climb in. 

You laugh nervously the whole time, but then you’re in the hammock with him, soft fabric under your backs. You curl into him instinctively. The lemon sconce near the cabin flickers as another breeze kisses your naked arms, but Steve is warm. 

“Wow,” you murmur, looking up through the apple blossoms, “you can already see so many stars.” 

“I know.” You grin as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, under your neck like a cushion. His nose turns to your cheek. You’re hardly ten minutes like that when he talks again, “I love you, you know?” 

You clam up with surprise. Breath pulled out of you on a fishing line, turning to see his face. He’s not messing with you. 

His face falls. “Oh, stars, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I meant to, I do love you, not that you have to tell me you love me.” He bites his tongue and starts again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to thrust it on you like that, I’ve just been thinking it, and I thought there isn’t a better time to tell you because I feel it a lot but that’s not fair. So you don’t have to tell me you love me, or even acknowledge it.” 

Steve squeezes your arm but looks away. “Don’t acknowledge it, actually. That’s my mistake.” 

“I love you too,” you say.

He smells like water chestnuts and heat, his hair permed with hot curlers, and he’s beautiful. He smells nice, tastes sweet as he leans in to kiss you slowly. Pear drops, his guilty pleasure.

You don’t know what to think as his lips part against yours. He sucks in a warm breath. “You do?” he asks, running the backs of his knuckles down your cheek. 

“Mm,” you hum, half a laugh as his touch turns ticklish down your neck, “I do, I love you.” It’s new, but it’s definitely love.

He turns you back in for a slew of slow kissing, only stopping when a rough breeze tips apple blossom petals into your arms. 

“You’re being attacked,” he whispers. It doesn’t feel like it. 

[wolverigrl]

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

Next part

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part vi

Outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Your relationship with Joel is in a thin line, some truths are confessed, some words are thrown but you're there for each other at the end.

w.c: 13,3k

warnings: angst, reader feels insecure, mentions of depression, fluff, not proofreading. Paragraphs in bold indicate flashbacks. Not the best chapter.

a/n: This chapter is not intense, not my best but it is emotional and we can see reader struggling with her emotions (because hormones and sadness) I think this chapter feels like a filler. It is a filler chapter, sorry. I wrote it in a rush. HOWEVER, at the same time, it ends the tension between Joel and reader. New things will happen, and yes, Paul will have what he deserves. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

There was something strange in the way Joel’s presence since he had come back.

You knew something happened out there. You could see it in his brown eyes, there was something behind the spark, perhaps a lie surfing beneath just for you not to catch a glimpse of it.

The way Ellie had closed herself off wasn’t something you had expected either.

It was a complicated mix, one that stirred a knot of unease in your stomach. You could sense the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst. The moments you’d shared as a family felt overshadowed by something unspoken, a weight that pressed heavily on both Joel and Ellie.

At first, you had brushed it off as a natural adjustment period, after all, Joel had been gone for so long, and Ellie was grappling with her own feelings about what may had happened out there. But the more the days passed, the more you realized it ran deeper than that.

You found yourself stealing glances at Joel when he thought you weren’t looking, trying to decipher what lay behind his guarded demeanor. There were times when his smile would falter, a flicker of pain crossing his face before he masked it with a joke or a playful jab. And when he looked at Ellie, you could see a flicker of something darker, a shadow of guilt that crept in when he thought no one would notice.

He looked at her with the adoration a father should look at her daughter, but with the guilt of failing her.

And he looked at Rosie with hurt.

You couldn’t help but feel like the two of you were ghosts haunting him, memories of what he had lost and what he was trying so desperately to hold onto. The laughter and giggles you shared with Rosie should have brought him joy, but instead, they seemed to amplify the shadows lurking behind his eyes. It hurt to witness the internal struggle, the love he had for his daughter and the sorrow of knowing he had failed to protect her before she was even born.

You knew he felt guilty since the other night when that stupid flicker of doubt crept upon him, but you had you brushed it off for his sake, and for your own. You thought things would be better then. You had been together again; he had made love to you but you felt useless.

There was a distance that was never there before and it crumbled you.

It had been two weeks.

And it hurt.

Looking at Joel hurt.

Talking to Ellie hurt

An even looking at your daughter hurt.

The things between him and Ellie had shifted, leaving you feeling increasingly isolated. You noticed how Joel and Ellie seemed to retreat into their own world, while you stood on the outside, watching them from a distance. You tried to push through it, but even looking at Rosie had begun to hurt, every cry and fuss reminding you of how Paul’s words had lingered, twisting your mind, making you doubt yourself. Maybe Joel and Ellie were pulling away because they saw something in you, something broken, something not enough.

You weren’t the family you had become during those months you spent outside. Not the one you dreamt of it.

you prepared dinner for the three of you. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but you wanted to create a sense of normalcy, to find a connection again. As the minutes ticked by, the food grew cold on the table, and neither Joel nor Ellie showed up. Rosie started to cry, her wails sharp and insistent. You tried to feed her, but she refused, turning her head away. Frustration bubbled up inside you, and soon it felt like too much. You couldn’t calm her, and the weight of everything came crashing down.

Tears blurred your vision as you desperately tried to soothe Rosie, but nothing worked. You began to cry yourself, feeling utterly defeated when Joel finally walked in, his footsteps heavy with the weight of the day.

“What’s wrong with her?” Joel asked, his voice tinged with concern but also an edge of impatience.

You could barely look at him through your tears. “I don’t know,” you choked out. “She doesn’t want to leech… I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Joel stepped closer; his face drawn into a tight expression. “Give her to me,” he said firmly, reaching out. “You’re going to stress her out.”

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You’ve known her for two weeks, Joel,” you said, your voice trembling with hurt. “You don’t know what she wants.”

Joel’s face darkened, a flash of irritation crossing his features. “I know better,” he shot back, his tone almost dismissive. “I’ve been a father before. I know what a baby needs.”

The implication that you didn’t know what you were doing as a mother stung so deeply that it left you momentarily speechless. Your hands shook as you handed Rosie over to him, the words you wanted to say lodged painfully in your throat. As he took her, your gaze shifted to the table, the cold food sitting there, untouched. You had tried so hard to make something work tonight, to find a way to bridge the growing distance, but now it felt like all your efforts were in vain.

Joel glanced at the table, his eyes landing on the uneaten meal, and you saw the realization hit him. His face softened, his anger dissipating as the weight of what just happened sank in. “I—” he started, trying to find the words, but you couldn’t listen. You couldn’t stand the sight of him trying to fix something he didn’t understand.

You walked back into the house, your feet heavy with exhaustion, both physical and emotional. You could hear Joel calling after you, his voice soft but filled with so much urgency. “Wait,” he pleaded, but you didn’t stop.

You couldn’t.

The weight of everything he’d said crushed you. It wasn’t just about this moment; it was days of him being distant, of feeling like you were carrying it all alone. You had done it for so long, and now, with him back, it felt like nothing had changed.

You reached the bedroom, stepping inside before turning and quietly closing the door. With trembling hands, you locked it. The soft click of the lock echoed in the stillness of the room. It wasn’t a loud sound, but it might as well have been a final barrier between you and Joel.

“Hey… hey, open the door,” Joel called from the other side, his voice thick with desperation. “Please, just talk to me.”

But you couldn’t answer. Not now. You pressed your back against the door, sliding down to the floor as your knees gave way, the tears spilling out uncontrollably. You hugged your arms around your knees, trying to hold yourself together, but it felt impossible.

“Come on,” Joel begged, his voice muffled by the door but still pleading. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I—damn it—just open the door. We can talk.”

Outside, you could hear Joel’s hand resting against the door, as if he was trying to feel your presence on the other side. “I don’t know what to say to fix this,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “But I need you to know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”

But the space between you felt vast. Even though you knew he was just on the other side of the door, it was as if he were miles away. The crying from Rosie grew louder, and you could hear the frustration in Joel’s voice.

“Please… don’t do this,” he whispered.

But you still didn’t answer. You couldn’t. And in that moment, the only sound filling the void between you and Joel was Rosie’s cries. They echoed through the house, a reminder of the tiny life you were both trying to protect, yet somehow feeling further apart from each other than ever before.

You sat there, leaning against the door, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. When had it all become too much? You weren’t this weak before. You were strong, you had to be. You had been through so much, survived so much, and yet here you were, crumbling under the pressure of emotions that you couldn’t control.

You didn’t know when you had let it all get to this point. When the doubts, the fears, and the weight of trying to be enough, both for Rosie and for Joel, had started to consume you. It was like you had been holding it together for so long, and now, everything was unraveling.

You used to pride yourself on being able to handle it all. But now… now you felt like you were drowning. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you hated that. You hated feeling this weak, hated that your emotions had taken the best of you. That you couldn’t just push it down and be the strong person you had always been.

Rosie’s cries brought you back to the moment, but even her soft whimpers only made the ache in your chest deepen. You wanted to get up, to soothe her, but you felt so drained, so completely overwhelmed, that you couldn’t even move.

The sound of Joel’s voice, still pleading softly from the other side of the door, was like a distant echo in the back of your mind. You could hear his pain, but it was almost too much to bear. You knew he was hurting too, but how could you comfort him or your daughter when you couldn’t even find the strength to comfort yourself?

You rested your head against the cool wood of the door, closing your eyes, trying to pull yourself together. But every time you thought you could, that tight feeling in your chest came back, choking you with a flood of emotions you couldn’t control.

“I don’t know when I became this weak,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible over the sound of Rosie’s cries and Joel’s muffled pleas.

Somewhere deep down, you knew you weren’t weak. You were tired, tired of carrying it all on your own, tired of pretending to be okay when you weren’t. But in this moment, it was hard to remember that. Hard to remember the strength that had gotten you this far.

Paul’s words echoed in your mind like an unwelcome refrain, twisting and turning until they felt like a noose tightening around your thoughts. “You can’t do this alone.” “He won’t come back.” Each phrase replayed like a haunting melody, suffocating your resolve.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block them out, but they clung to you like shadows. “You’re not strong enough for this. You’re just going to end up hurt.” The memories of those moments, his condescending tone, the way he had looked at you as if you were fragile, were like needles piercing through the fragile veneer you had built around yourself.

But you weren’t fragile. You had survived against all odds, faced every challenge thrown your way, and yet here you were, paralyzed by a single man’s cruel words. You had spent nights comforting Rosie when she cried, soothing her fears, and yet, when it came to yourself, you found it impossible to extend that same compassion.

The weight of it all felt unbearable. You were torn between the love you felt for Rosie and Joel and the crippling fear that you were failing them both. The thought of losing Joel again, of having him walk away because you couldn’t hold it together, made your heart race with panic.

What if Paul was right? What if you were a burden? The nagging doubts clawed at your mind, urging you to believe that you were unworthy of the love and support surrounding you. “He left you.”

You let out a choked sob, unable to suppress the flood of emotions any longer. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” you murmured, the words slipping out between shaky breaths. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of uncertainty, gasping for air but finding none.

Just then, Rosie’s cries escalated, piercing through your turmoil. The sound broke through the fog of despair, a reminder that she needed you, that you were her mother.

With a shaky breath, you pushed off the door and stood up and opened the door, immediately facing Joel with despair in his eyes.

Joel's heart sank at the sight of you, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cradled Rosie in your arms. He stepped forward, his hands reaching out instinctively. “I’m here,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here.”

You could see the concern etched across his features, but all you felt was an overwhelming wave of emotion that threatened to engulf you. “She just wanted her mother,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I don’t know how to do this, Joel. I thought I could, but…”

Joel’s heart ached at your vulnerability. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you and Rosie, pulling you both into a tight embrace. “You’re doing better than you think,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re a great mother. I’ve seen it. I see the way you care for her.”

You leaned into Joel’s embrace, but the warmth of his body only made the tears flow harder. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. “I don’t feel like a great mother. Every time I look at her, it hurts. I thought I could handle it.”

Joel’s expression shifted to one of concern as he took a step back, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. This isn’t easy for any of us. But I promise you, you’re not alone in this. You’ve been doing everything you can.”

You shook your head, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “But I’m not doing enough! I can hear Paul’s words in my head, telling me I can’t do this alone, that you wouldn’t come back for me-”

“But I’m here, I came back.” He spoke, his tone reassuring your doubts.

You shook your head, “No you didn’t. You’re just half of what you were before.”

Joel’s expression faltered, hurt flickering across his features. “I know I’m not the same,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m trying. I’m here, and I want to be here for you and Rosie. You have to believe that.”

You stepped back, shaking your head as the tears streamed down your face. “But it doesn’t feel like enough. I thought you’d come back ready to fight for us, but instead, it feels like I’m still alone. You’re not the person I fell in love with. You’ve got so many walls up, and I don’t know how to break through them.”

“I’m trying to let those walls down,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But it’s hard, okay? I’ve been through things you can’t even begin to understand, and I’m just trying to process it all. But I don’t want to lose you, too.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. “You’re not going to lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I’m stuck here, Joel! Stuck with all these feelings and fears, and you’re acting like you don’t even want to try.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and pain evident in his posture. “You think I don’t want to try? I want to be the man you need me to be, but I’m struggling, too. I can’t just forget everything that’s happened out there. I don’t know how to just turn it off.”

“I know you’re struggling,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I need you to at least try to meet me halfway.”

As Rosie’s cries grew louder, each wail felt like a reminder of the weight pressing down on both of you. You could hear her distress echoing your own turmoil, amplifying the emotions swirling in your chest. You wiped your tears, feeling the frustration mix with the overwhelming love you had for your daughter.

“I can’t handle this right now, Joel,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to maintain your composure.

Joel's face softened, and he stepped closer, his hands reaching out tentatively. “Let me help, then. Please. I don’t want you to feel like you’re carrying this alone. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You glanced down at Rosie, who was now whimpering, her little fists clenched as she squirmed in her crib. The sight made your heart ache, and the tears flowed more freely.

"I wish I would have died that day instead of Tess" you replied, walking back to the room.

Joel’s face twisted in pain at your words, his eyes clouding with grief and regret. He stepped closer, desperation in his voice. "Don't say that. Don’t ever say that. You’re the reason we’ve made it this far. Without you… I don’t know what I’d be."

But your mind was spinning, tangled in the emotions you couldn’t unravel. Rosie’s cries felt like a mirror of your own inner turmoil, and each sob felt like a weight pressing deeper on your chest. You rubbed at your face, trying to push away the tears that kept falling. “I’m tired, Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Joel looked down at Rosie, who had quieted slightly but still whimpered softly, her tiny face scrunched in discomfort. He exhaled slowly, his hands trembling as he reached out toward you but then let them fall back to his sides. I should have helped sooner. I didn’t—" His voice caught in his throat. "I didn’t realize how much you needed me to be here."

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. "No, Joel, you didn’t. And now, I don’t know if you ever really will be. You’re here, but half of you is still somewhere out there, and I don’t know how to reach that part of you.”

Your hands trembled as you held Rosie, her soft whimpers clawing at your already frayed nerves. The exhaustion, the hurt, the overwhelming sense of responsibility, it was all crashing down on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just make her stop crying,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you handed Rosie to Joel, your arms suddenly feeling too weak to hold her any longer. The moment Joel took her from you, the sob you had been holding in finally escaped. Your chest tightened, and for a second, everything seemed to blur around you.

Before Joel could respond, your body gave way to the exhaustion consuming you for so long. Your vision darkened as you slumped forward, your world fading into black as you passed out.

You pressed yourself against the cold, concrete wall of the Quarantine Zone, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the footsteps of the guards patrolling nearby. You had always been good at finding places to hide, but lately, the tension in the air had made even your usual spots feel less safe.

You had come to the trading post with the intention of scrounging up some supplies for yourself, but you had miscalculated the risks. Now, hiding from the guards had become a habit—one you were starting to regret.

Just as you thought you were in the clear, you heard a voice from behind you. “What are you doing back here?”

You turned to find a man standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed with curiosity. He was older than you, with a rugged look that spoke of hard living, and something in his eyes hinted at a depth of experience.

“Just… hiding,” you replied, trying to sound casual even though your heart raced at the prospect of being caught.

He chuckled softly, a sound that was surprisingly comforting. “You’re gonna get yourself into trouble doing that. You know the guards won’t hesitate to drag you in if they catch you.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you said defiantly, but your voice wavered slightly.

“Yeah? You sure about that?” He stepped closer, his gaze assessing you. “You think you can take them on?”

You shrugged, feeling a mix of bravado and fear. “I can handle myself.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Maybe. But it’s always better to have someone watching your back.”

You looked at him, searching for any hint of deceit in his expression, but all you saw was honesty and a hint of amusement. “And what’s your name?” you asked, intrigued despite yourself.

“Joel,” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a faint smile. “And you’re a long way from safe out here, kid.”

“Kid? I’m not a kid,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

“Sure you’re not,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “But you’d be surprised how fast things can go sideways in this world. Better to be careful.”

Just then, the guards’ voices echoed down the hallway, and you felt your stomach drop. Without thinking, you grabbed Joel’s arm and pulled him into the small space behind some crates.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, a mix of surprise and approval.

“Hiding,” you whispered, your breath quickening as the guards drew closer.

He didn’t protest, instead leaning in slightly, his presence solid and reassuring. The guards passed by, their footsteps fading into the distance, and you let out a shaky breath.

“That was close,” you muttered, still pressed against him.

He glanced down at you, the tension of the moment breaking slightly. “You know, if you keep this up, I might have to start charging you for my help.”

You looked up at him, catching the flicker of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, right. You’re just as likely to get caught with me around.”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe. But I think I can manage.”

When the coast was clear, you cautiously peeked out from behind the crates. “Thanks for that,” you said, a bit shyly. “I didn’t expect to find someone like you back here.”

When you finally stirred, your head throbbed, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. You blinked, your vision blurry as you slowly came back to consciousness. The room was dim, and you struggled to remember what had happened, but as your senses sharpened, you realized you were lying on the couch. You felt something cold against your forehead—a damp cloth—and when you turned your head slightly, you were met with Paul’s concerned face.

“Hey,” he said softly, crouching next to the couch, his hand still holding the cloth. “You gave us a scare.”

Confusion swirled in your mind. “Paul?” Your voice was hoarse, and you winced at how weak it sounded. “What are you doing here?”

Paul sighed, his expression serious but gentle. “Joel was a mess. He didn’t know what to do, so he came and got me.” He glanced over his shoulder, where you saw Joel standing by the doorway, his face a mix of guilt and helplessness. His eyes were fixed on you, but he didn’t say a word.

The memory of what had happened earlier hit you like a punch to the gut. The crying, the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of defeat—and then nothing. You tried to sit up, but Paul gently pushed you back down.

“Take it easy,” he urged. “You’ve been out for a while.”

Rosie’s soft whimpers caught your attention, and you turned your head to see her in Joel’s arms. He was gently bouncing her, trying to soothe her, but his eyes kept darting back to you. You could see the strain on his face, the weight of everything that had happened between you both etched into every line of his expression.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, even though you felt anything but fine. You wanted to tell Paul to leave, to tell Joel that you didn’t need him to bring someone else to take care of you, but the words stuck in your throat.

Paul raised an eyebrow. “You passed out from exhaustion. That’s not ‘fine,’ and you know it.” He glanced at Joel again before turning back to you. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You don’t even have your spark anymore” he added, carrying a sense of undertone that made your anger raise.

The insinuation stung, and beneath your exhaustion, frustration flared to life. How dare he stand there and judge you? How dare he talk about something he couldn’t possibly understand? You’d been doing everything you could to hold it together, to take care of Rosie, to keep going. But now, with the weight of his words, it felt like everything was crumbling.

Your hands clenched into fists as you sat up, despite Paul’s earlier insistence that you rest. “Get out of my house.”

Paul raised his hands, backing off a little, but there was still something in his expression that fueled your frustration. “I’m just saying you don’t have to do this all alone.”

“I know I don’t!” you shot back. You don’t know what it’s like—” Your voice caught in your throat, and you couldn’t finish. The exhaustion, the frustration, the overwhelming sense of failure all clashed inside of you.

Joel, who had been standing silently with Rosie, stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. “I think that’s enough.” There was a tension in his tone, something protective.

Paul’s expression shifted, his calm demeanor faltering as he glanced between you and Joel. “You deserve someone who’s going to actually be there for you,” he said, his voice laced with an edge of condescension. “Not someone who’s half here, someone who’s too wrapped up in their own demons to care for you or Rosie.” He shot a pointed look at Joel, clearly implying that he wasn’t the man for you.

That was it. Joel’s face hardened, his jaw clenched tight. Without a word, he gently placed Rosie down in her crib, making sure she was safe, and then he turned back toward Paul. The tension in the room thickened, and before you could react, Joel strode forward with purpose.

“Joel, don’t—” you started, but it was too late.

In one swift movement, Joel’s fist connected with Paul’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The force of the punch was strong, a raw release of all the frustration and anger Joel had been holding back. Paul let out a grunt of pain, clutching his face as he tried to steady himself.

“Get out,” Joel growled, his voice low and dangerous. His usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. “You don’t come into our home and tell her what she deserves.”

Paul straightened up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and anger. “You think this is going to change anything?” he spat, glaring at Joel. “She deserves better than you, and deep down, you know it.”

Joel took a step closer, his fists still clenched, but you quickly moved between them, your heart racing. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling. You couldn’t deal with this right now—the fighting, the anger, the tension.

Paul shot one last glare at Joel before turning his gaze toward you. “You know where to find me when you finally realize what you deserve.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the door wide open behind him.

For a moment, there was silence. You stood there, your body tense, your mind racing. Joel was still breathing heavily, the adrenaline from the confrontation clearly not yet faded. He glanced down at you, his face softening as he saw the strain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Joel said quietly, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of everything pressing down on you again. Finally, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Don't listen to him, you deserve me. But right now, Joel, you’re being an asshole." you said walking back to the bedroom.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the exhaustion in your face, the weight you were carrying, silenced him. You didn’t wait for an answer. Turning away, you walked back toward the bedroom, the thud of your footsteps matching the heavy thrum of your heartbeat. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t turn around. The last few days had taken their toll, and you were too drained to face another argument.

As you reached the bedroom door, you paused for a moment, your hand resting on the frame. You wanted to say more, to explain the hurt and frustration swirling inside you, but the words felt stuck, tangled in the knot of emotions you’d been holding in for too long.

Without looking back, you stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind you. The quiet click of the lock felt like a small barrier between you and the chaos outside, but even in the solitude of the bedroom, the weight of everything pressed down on you.

You walked over to the bed, your legs heavy with exhaustion, and sat on the edge. Your body ached, not from any physical strain but from the emotional toll of everything you’d been through. The fight with Paul, the tension with Joel, the constant pressure to be strong for Rosie, it was all catching up with you.

You buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath as the tears threatened to spill over again. “I just want things to be okay,” you whispered to yourself, but the room offered no answers, no relief from the storm raging inside you.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft sound of Rosie stirring in her crib. The sunlight was just beginning to filter through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You blinked a few times, feeling the remnants of exhaustion still clinging to you, but instinctively, you moved to tend to your daughter.

Rosie let out a little whimper as you gently lifted her into your arms, and you rocked her softly, humming a quiet tune. The peace of the early morning felt like a small reprieve from the storm of emotions from the night before. For a moment, it was just you and her, the world outside the bedroom door distant.

As you fed Rosie, your eyes drifted to the slightly open door, and a thought crossed your mind. Once she had finished and you had settled her back down, you quietly left the room, padding down the hallway in your socks.

You stopped when you reached the living room, your heart giving a little tug at the sight before you. Joel was asleep on the couch, his body curled up slightly, his face turned away from the room. His breathing was slow and even, but there was something about the way he lay there, like the weight of everything had finally knocked him down, that made your heart ache.

He looked so tired, the lines of stress etched into his face even in sleep. For a long moment, you just stood there, watching him. Despite everything, despite the arguments and the walls between you, there was still that pull, the part of you that loved him so deeply it hurt.

But you couldn’t ignore how broken things had become, how much distance had grown between you, and how helpless you’d felt in the middle of it all. You didn’t know how to fix it, but seeing him there, so vulnerable, softened something inside you.

You approached the couch slowly, hesitant. You didn’t want to wake him, not yet. But you stood by the edge of the couch, looking down at him, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your sleeves as you tried to figure out what to do next.

The tension between you two from the night before still hung in the air, but for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late to reach him. Maybe there was still a way back to each other.

In the kitchen, you set about making a quiet breakfast, keeping your movements soft and deliberate. The sound of eggs sizzling in the pan and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, creating a sense of normalcy that had been absent for a while. It was strange how these small routines—things you used to take for granted—now felt like lifelines.

As you stirred the coffee, your mind wandered back to the tension from the day before. Paul’s words, Joel’s anger, your own emotional breakdown—it all swirled around in your head like a storm you couldn’t quite escape. You felt the familiar knot tighten in your chest, but you took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the simple task of making breakfast.

You heard a soft shuffle behind you and turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his hair tousled from sleep, his expression a mix of fatigue and hesitation. He looked at you for a moment, then glanced down at his feet, clearly unsure of what to say after everything that had happened.

"I... didn’t mean to fall asleep on the couch," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was going to come back to bed."

You nodded, not entirely sure how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell him it was okay, that you understood, but another part of you was still so hurt, so weighed down by everything that had been left unsaid between you.

Instead, you turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs onto a plate. "Breakfast is almost ready," you said quietly, keeping your tone neutral.

Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "Look, about last night..." he started, his voice soft but filled with the weight of everything unsaid.

You kept your back to him, focusing on pouring the coffee. "Let’s not do this right now, Joel. I don’t have the energy to fight today."

"It’s not about fighting," he said, his voice a little firmer now. "I just... I know I’ve been distant. I know I haven’t been the man you need me to be, and I hate that I’m making you feel like you’re alone in this. You’re not. I’m here, even when it doesn’t seem like it."

You finally turned to face him, your eyes searching his face for the sincerity behind his words. He looked tired, his brown eyes filled with a mix of regret and something deeper—something that reminded you of the man you fell in love with.

"Then why does it feel like you’re somewhere else?" you asked softly, your voice tinged with the vulnerability you’d been trying to hide.

Joel took a slow breath, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you. "Because part of me is," he admitted, his voice rough. "There are things I’ve been holding onto—things from out there, from everything I’ve done to keep us safe. I thought I was protecting you by keeping it all inside, but I can see now that it’s only been pushing you away."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

He nodded; his eyes filled with emotion. "I’m trying, I swear. But I’m scared—scared that if you knew everything, you’d see me differently."

You reached out then, placing a hand on his chest. "I already know you, Joel. I know what you’ve done, and I still love you. But we can’t keep doing this—this back and forth, this shutting each other out. It’s breaking us."

Joel looked down at your hand on his chest, covering it with his own. "I don’t want to lose you," he said quietly, his voice raw with emotion.

“You’re losing me now” you whispered.

Joel’s expression shifted, a flicker of something dark passing over his face, and his hand tightened slightly around yours. For a moment, the room felt impossibly still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. He looked away, his gaze drifting toward the window, avoiding your eyes as though what he was about to say was too much to bear.

“I lied,” Joel said, his voice low and strained, barely louder than a whisper. “To Ellie… about what happened with the Fireflies.”

You blinked, confusion rippling through you, trying to grasp what he meant. "What do you mean you lied?"

His jaw clenched as he struggled to find the words. “I told her they couldn’t find a cure. That they ran some tests and it didn’t work. But… that wasn’t the truth.”

A sick feeling churned in your stomach, your heart racing as you tried to process what he was telling you. "Joel... what are you saying?" you asked, your voice shaky, almost afraid to hear the answer.

He looked at you then, his brown eyes filled with guilt, the weight of it crushing him. “They were going to use her… to make the cure. But to do that, they would’ve had to kill her.”

The air seemed to rush out of the room as the realization hit you. "Oh my God," you breathed, stepping back slightly, your hand slipping from his chest. "You... you stopped them."

Joel nodded, his face tight with regret. "I didn’t give them a choice. I couldn’t let them take her life, even if it meant sacrificing the chance for a cure. I killed them. All of them.”

You stood there, frozen, your mind reeling as you tried to comprehend the enormity of what he had done. The weight of his decision, the lives lost, the potential cure for humanity—gone because he couldn’t bear to lose Ellie. It was a truth that hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

"She doesn’t know, does she?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Ellie doesn’t know the truth."

Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with pain. "No. She still thinks there was nothing they could do. She trusts me… and I’ve been lying to her this whole time."

You covered your mouth with your hand, feeling a mix of emotions crashing over you—shock, anger, sorrow, and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name. You knew how much Ellie meant to Joel, how much she had become like a daughter to him. But this… this was something else. He had taken away her choice, her right to know the truth about her own life.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling with disbelief. "You... you took that choice away from her. You lied to protect her, but... what if she finds out? What then?"

"I know," Joel rasped, his voice cracking. "I know what I did, and I know it was wrong. But I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t go through that again."

You stared at him, seeing the brokenness in his eyes, the depth of his fear and guilt. He had made an impossible choice—one that had saved Ellie’s life but had cost him a piece of his soul. And now, that lie hung between you, heavy and suffocating.

"I didn’t tell you because... because I didn’t want you to look at me like this," Joel continued, his voice faltering. "Like I’m a monster."

Tears filled your eyes, but you blinked them back, trying to hold yourself together. "You’re not a monster, Joel," you said, your voice hoarse. "But this... this is so much more than I ever thought you were carrying. And it’s not just your burden to bear. You should have told me."

"I know," Joel whispered, stepping closer, his eyes pleading with you. "I’m telling you now because... because I can’t keep this from you anymore. I can’t keep shutting you out, not after everything we’ve been through."

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to process the weight of his confession. When you opened them, you met his gaze, your voice soft but firm. "You lied to her to protect her. But you can’t keep lying, Joel. Not to me, and not to Ellie. Eventually, she’s going to find out. And when that happens… what are you going to do?"

Joel’s face crumpled, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his guilt. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "But I’m terrified of losing her. And now… I’m terrified of losing you, too."

You stood there, staring at the man you loved, the man who had fought to protect the people he cared about, even if it meant making choices that would haunt him for the rest of his life. You didn’t know how to feel, didn’t know what to say, but one thing was clear, you couldn’t go back to how things were.

“And what made you think you couldn't trust me with this?” You asked him things were.

Joel sighed heavily, his arms still wrapped around you, but he didn’t meet your eyes. He pulled back slightly, his expression a mixture of guilt and fear. “It wasn’t about trust,” he said, his voice quiet and thick with emotion. “It was… fear.”

You frowned, your heart tightening at his words. “Fear of what? Of me? Of what I’d think of you?”

He shook his head, finally meeting your gaze, his eyes full of vulnerability you rarely saw in him. “No. I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid of losing you too. Of you seeing me for who I really am.”

You stared at him, taken aback. "Joel, I already know who you are. I've seen you at your best and your worst. You’ve always trusted me with everything, so why was this different?"

He hesitated; his voice low. "Because this… this was somethin' darker. I crossed a line that I never wanted to cross again. I did it for Ellie, but it doesn’t change what it makes me. And I didn’t want you to look at me and see a monster."

Your chest tightened at his words, and you reached up to cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "Joel, you’re not a monster," you said firmly, your voice soft but steady. "You did what you thought was right, even if it wasn’t easy to understand. I may not agree with what you did, but I can’t blame you for wanting to protect her."

His eyes searched yours, as if seeking reassurance that he wasn’t beyond redemption. "You’re not scared of what I did?"

"I’m not scared of you," you said softly, stroking your thumb over his cheek. "But I need you to trust me with the truth, even when it’s ugly. Because if we don’t have that, then what do we have?"

Joel closed his eyes briefly, his face showing the toll of carrying that burden alone for so long. When he opened them again, there was a flicker of relief in his gaze, as if a weight had finally been lifted. "I should’ve told you sooner," he admitted, his voice raw with regret. "I just didn’t want to lose you too."

"You won’t lose me, Joel," you whispered.

You held him tightly, feeling the weight of his guilt and fear in the way he clung to you. His body trembled slightly, and you knew how much it took for him to open up, to let you see this side of him.

"I won’t tell her,”You whispered softly, your voice calm but firm. "I’ll carry this for you, Joel. But when you’re ready, when you feel like you can… promise me you’ll try to tell her."

Joel’s breath hitched, and he buried his face in your shoulder, his grip on you tightening as if he was afraid to let go. After a long pause, he finally nodded against you. "I promise," he murmured, his voice rough. "I’ll try."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your hands still resting gently on his shoulders. "That’s all I need, Joel," you said softly. "We’ll get through this together, just like everything else."

His eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like a long while, you saw a glimmer of hope in them. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I don’t deserve you," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled faintly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face. "You do," you whispered back. "You always have."

For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just the two of you, finding your way back to each other after everything you’d been through. And in that silence, you knew that, despite all the pain and mistakes, your bond was stronger than ever. You would carry this burden together, and when the time came, you would both face the truth with the same strength you’d always relied on.

He kissed your forehead gently, lingering there as if grounding himself in the moment. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You allowed him to get a hold of you for as long as he needed. You loved him enough for that, but you couldn’t help but feel the fear creeping upon you. The consequences this would have in the aftermath terrified you, but you would hold it for him, and for Ellie.

It was late, and the dim lights of the QZ barely flickered through the cracks in the old apartment. You had gotten used to the sounds of the place—the distant hum of generators, the occasional shouts from outside, and the ever-present sense of unease that came with living in a world so broken. But tonight was different. Tess wouldn’t be coming back, and you had already resigned yourself to the familiar routine of finding a corner to sleep in, far from Joel’s space.

You were in the middle of pulling the blanket over yourself when you heard Joel’s footsteps behind you. They were quieter than usual, hesitant almost, and you looked up, surprised to see him standing at the door of the bedroom.

He didn’t speak at first, just lingered there, his silhouette framed by the faint light from the hallway. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands fidgeted at his sides as if he was wrestling with something he couldn’t quite say.

As you settled under the thin blankets, the memory of that kiss—just days ago—lingered between you, unspoken but heavy in the air. It had taken you both by surprise, neither of you expecting it, but there had been something in Joel’s eyes that night, a shift, a quiet understanding. That kiss had been his way of telling you, without words, that he trusted you in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. It wasn’t just about desire; it was about letting you in, allowing you to see a side of him he kept hidden from the world.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat. “You… uh, you don’t have to sleep out there tonight,” he said, his voice rough but softer than you were used to hearing from him. "There’s enough room in here."

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right. You’d been sharing this space for a while now, but you’d always kept a respectful distance. Joel had never given any indication that he wanted it otherwise, and you had assumed it was just easier that way. Safer, maybe.

But there he was, standing in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and the bed behind him. There was something vulnerable in the way he stood, as if this was a question he wasn’t used to asking.

“Are you…you… want me to sleep in there?” you asked, your voice quiet, not wanting to misread the moment.

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s late. Cold too. Just thought… it’d be more comfortable. For both of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just about comfort, you could tell. There was a layer of unspoken words in his offer, a need for connection in a world that had stripped so much away.

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded, rising slowly from the corner you’d claimed. “Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel stepped aside as you walked past him, letting you into the small, cramped bedroom. The bed wasn’t much—just a thin mattress and some worn blankets.

You slid under the covers, feeling the tension in the room as Joel stood there, watching you for a second longer before moving toward the other side of the bed. He lay down beside you, his body stiff and awkward at first, like he didn’t quite know how to do this. You could feel the space between you, but it was less about the physical distance and more about the emotional walls that had been built between you both over time.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence was heavy, filled with all the things neither of you could say. But there was something comforting in it too—a quiet understanding that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

Just as you were starting to relax, Joel’s voice broke the silence. “I’m not good at this,” he muttered, his tone laced with self-doubt. "But I want to… I mean, I’m trying."

You turned your head to look at him, catching the faint outline of his face in the darkness. There was something so raw, so real in his words that it made your chest tighten. “Me too,” you whispered back.

He let out a long breath, as if relieved by your answer, and shifted slightly closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that the space between you felt a little smaller, a little less daunting.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment longer, your thoughts racing, trying to figure out what to say or do to break the barrier between you. And then, just as you were about to speak, you felt the bed shift as Joel turned towards you. His presence was suddenly much closer, and before you could react, his hand reached out, tentative, brushing against your arm.

You turned your head to look at him again, and even in the dim light, you could see the hesitation in his eyes. It was like he was battling with himself, wanting to reach out but not knowing if it was okay to do so.

Without thinking, you moved closer, closing the small gap between you. You could feel the warmth of his body now, the roughness of his breath as he fought against the vulnerability of the moment. And then, suddenly, his lips were on yours—soft but insistent, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer.

It was different from the first kiss. This one wasn’t hesitant or uncertain. This was Joel making a decision, deciding to let you in just a little more, to tear down one more wall. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the intimacy of the kiss settling around you like a blanket. You felt his hand tighten slightly on your face, a silent plea for you to understand everything he was struggling to say.

It had been a long morning since Joel left for patrol. You hadn’t said much to each other before he walked out the door, but the look he gave you was enough to tell you that he was trying—really trying to work through the mess that lay between you. It was a fragile peace, but you both knew there was no quick fix.

Rosie had been especially fussy, and after finally settling her down for a nap, you decided to go for a walk to clear your head. The weight of the past few days lingered like a storm cloud, and with Joel out, you found yourself restless, searching for some sense of normalcy. A visit to Maria seemed like a good way to pass the time. She’d always had a calming presence, and you could use some of her wisdom, especially after everything that had happened.

As you made your way through the winding streets of Jackson, the crisp autumn air nipping at your skin, you tried to shake off the lingering emotions. The town was peaceful, the sound of hammers and voices in the distance as people continued with their daily tasks. You could almost pretend everything was fine for a moment, that life was simple here.

But as you turned a corner, that fragile peace shattered.

There he was. Paul.

He was standing by the fence, talking to one of the other settlers, but the moment he saw you, his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed, and a smirk played at the corners of his lips as he excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward you.

Your stomach dropped. The last thing you wanted was to deal with him right now, not after everything that had happened with Joel. But Paul was relentless, always showing up when you least wanted him around. His words from the previous night still echoed in your mind—the way he had implied that Joel wasn’t enough for you, that you deserved better.

You squared your shoulders and tried to keep walking, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you alone. But of course, Paul never made things that easy.

“Heading somewhere?” Paul called out as he fell into step beside you, his tone casual but laced with that same undertone of smugness that had set you off before.

“I’m busy, Paul,” you replied, not bothering to look at him. “I don’t have time for this.”

He chuckled softly, the sound grating on your nerves. “You always seem to be busy these days. What, too wrapped up in playing house with Joel to even talk?”

Your jaw clenched, but you kept your gaze forward, refusing to engage.

“Come on,” Paul pressed, his voice lowering slightly as he leaned in, “you and I both know you deserve better than this. You’ve been through so much, and for what? To be stuck with a man who can’t even give you what you need? You’re not happy, and everyone can see it.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your blood boiling. “Stop,” you hissed, turning to face him now. “I don’t care what you think you know, Paul, but you don’t get to talk about my life like that. Joel’s my husband, and I’m not interested in whatever it is you think you can offer.”

Paul’s expression hardened for a moment, but then he shrugged, the smirk never quite leaving his face. “I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to settle for less, you know? I see the way you look—tired, worn down. You’re not the same woman I met when you first came here. He’s changed you.”

His words hit deeper than you wanted to admit, poking at the insecurities you’d been grappling with for so long. You knew you were tired, knew you and Joel were struggling, but you weren’t about to let Paul twist that into something it wasn’t.

“I don’t need your help,” you said, your voice low and firm. “And I’m not some broken woman waiting for you to swoop in and save me. I’m stronger than you think.”

Paul scoffed, shaking his head. “You think you’re strong? Look at you. You’re exhausted. You’re barely holding it together. How long until Joel drags you down with him? You deserve more than that, and you know it.”

You took a step back, your heart racing with a mix of anger and hurt. “This conversation is over, Paul. Leave me alone.”

But just as you turned to walk away, his hand shot out, grabbing your arm. It wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice low and almost pleading now. “You don’t have to keep doing this. You don’t have to keep pretending that everything’s okay with him. I can give you a life, a real one. No more hiding, no more fear. You could be happy.”

You yanked your arm free, stepping back, your eyes blazing with anger. “I am happy, Paul,” you said, your voice shaking with emotion. “Or at least I’m trying to be. But I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what I should feel or what I deserve.”

Paul’s smirk faded then, his face hardening as he realized he wasn’t getting through to you. “Fine,” he muttered, stepping back. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when it all falls apart.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest.

You stood there for a moment, trying to collect yourself. The encounter had left you rattled, the anger still simmering beneath your skin. But as much as Paul’s words had gotten under your skin, you knew he was wrong

You found your way to Maria’s house, still feeling the tension from the encounter with Paul clinging to your skin. When she opened the door, her face softened immediately, recognizing the weariness in your expression. She welcomed you in without hesitation, her hand resting gently on her growing belly as she led you inside.

“How’re you holding up?” Maria asked, her voice filled with genuine concern as she guided you to sit down at the kitchen table.

You forced a small smile, trying to shake off the weight of everything. “I’m… managing. How about you? How’s the pregnancy going?”

Maria’s face lit up slightly, her hand instinctively moving to rub her belly. “It’s been good, mostly. Tiring, of course. But Tommy’s been helping a lot, and the baby’s healthy, so I can’t complain.” She paused, giving you a knowing look. “But something tells me you didn’t come here just to check in on me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I just needed to get out of the house. Things have been… rough.”

Maria didn’t press, simply nodding as she sat across from you. “It’s not easy, I know that much. You and Joel have been through a lot.”

You stared down at your hands, feeling the familiar sting of frustration building inside you again. “Yeah, we have. But it feels like everything’s falling apart, and I don’t know how to keep it together.”

There was a long silence between you, the weight of your words settling into the space. Maria’s eyes softened, understanding far beyond what she needed to say. She didn’t offer advice or try to fix things—she just listened. And in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

After a few more minutes of small talk, you glanced at Rosie, who had been dozing off in her carrier. The sight of her, so small and peaceful, tugged at your heart, but it also made you feel even more trapped. You needed space to breathe, to think.

“Maria,” you said hesitantly, “could you… could you take care of Rosie for a little while? I just need some time. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

Maria’s brows furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her expression, but she didn’t question you. “Of course,” she said gently, reaching for Rosie’s carrier. “You go do what you need to do. She’ll be safe with me.”

You nodded, grateful, but you couldn’t shake the guilt that tugged at you as you handed Rosie over. You hated feeling like you were running away, but the walls in Jackson were closing in on you, and you needed a break—just a moment to clear your head.

After making sure everything was set for Rosie, you thanked Maria again and left the house, the cool air of Jackson hitting your face as you stepped outside. Your heart raced as you made your way through the town, your mind already spinning with the familiar plan that had once been second nature to you.

Sneaking out of from a place wasn’t something you’d done in a long time, but the muscle memory kicked in as soon as you approached the outer edge of the settlement. You knew the weak points, the places where the patrols didn’t keep a close eye. You’d used these routes before in different places, and now that you needed you were going to use your skills for it.

You slipped through a wall, your pulse quickening as you moved into the wilderness beyond the walls of Jackson. The trees were thick, their branches swaying in the gentle breeze, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Out here, there were no arguments, no pressure, no expectations. Just the quiet hum of nature, the sound of your boots crunching softly against the earth.

You didn’t go far, just enough to feel like you were truly alone, away from the weight of everything you’d been carrying. You found a small clearing, the sun filtering through the leaves in soft beams, and you sank down onto a fallen log, finally letting yourself exhale.

Out here, with nothing but the wind and the trees, you felt like you could finally breathe again. The emotions you’d been holding in for so long came crashing down, and before you could stop them, the tears started to fall.

It was quiet. Peaceful. And for a little while, you allowed yourself to let go.

The sun was starting to set by the time Joel returned from patrol, his body aching from the long day. He walked toward the house, expecting to hear the familiar sounds of Rosie’s coos or your footsteps in the background. But as he approached the front door, the sight of Maria standing there, cradling Rosie in her arms, made something in his stomach drop.

Rosie stirred in Maria’s arms, her tiny face scrunching up as if sensing the tension in the air. Joel’s heart raced, and he immediately scanned the area, looking for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. His brow furrowed, the unease settling deep in his gut as he stepped forward.

Tommy, who had been standing a few feet behind Maria, crossed his arms, his expression tense as he waited for Joel to notice him. When Joel finally turned to him, there was a flicker of understanding in Tommy’s eyes, like he knew something Joel didn’t.

"Where is she?" Joel’s voice was rough, laced with a mixture of confusion and dread. His gaze darted back to Maria, then to Tommy, searching for answers.

Maria shifted her weight, carefully rocking Rosie as she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “She left earlier today. Came to me, asked if I could take care of Rosie for a bit.”

Joel’s stomach twisted, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst. “She left? Alone?”

Maria hesitated for a moment, her eyes locking with Joel’s before she nodded. “She needed space, Joel. She didn’t say much, but… I could tell she was feeling overwhelmed. She didn’t say where she was going, just that she needed some time to herself.”

Joel’s chest tightened, and he felt the anger and fear rise up inside of him. “And you just let her go?” His voice was louder now, filled with an edge of panic. “Did she leave Jackson by herself?”

Tommy stepped forward, putting a hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Easy, man. She’s done this before, you know that. She knows how to take care of herself.”

“But not now!” Joel snapped, shrugging off Tommy’s hand. “Not with everything that’s happened! Not with—” He stopped himself, his voice cracking as the weight of it all bore down on him. He thought of everything you’d been through, everything you hadn’t told him, and the fear that he had pushed you too far gnawed at him.

Maria spoke up again, her tone steady but understanding. “She needed a break, Joel. She’s not running away. She just needed time to think, to breathe. You know how hard things have been on her. She wouldn’t leave Rosie behind unless she trusted me to take care of her.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, and he paced for a moment, his mind spinning with the endless possibilities of where you could’ve gone. His fists tightened, and he cursed under his breath. The image of you out there alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the dangers beyond Jackson’s walls, filled him with a panic he hadn’t felt in years.

Tommy, sensing Joel’s desperation, spoke quietly, trying to offer some reassurance. “We can go look for her, Joel. You know she’s probably out in the woods, where she always goes when she needs some space.”

Joel ran a hand over his face, frustration and worry etched into every line of his features. He glanced at Rosie, who was now peacefully asleep in Maria’s arms, and the sight of his daughter’s small, fragile form made his heart twist painfully.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Joel muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “I shouldn’t have left her like this.”

Maria shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “This isn’t your fault, Joel. She just needed time. But she’ll be back.”

Joel swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at him as the weight of everything settled on his shoulders. He glanced at Tommy; his eyes filled with a silent plea. “I’m gonna find her.”

Outside, the world felt vast and overwhelming. You wandered through the familiar paths of the woods, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions you couldn’t quite grasp. The trees stood tall and silent around you, their shadows stretching out like dark fingers, reflecting the turmoil inside your heart.

You thought of your sister, of the bond you once shared, and how her absence left a gaping hole in your life. Memories of laughter and warmth collided with the stark reality of survival in this harsh world. There was a time when everything felt different, when hope seemed tangible rather than just a flicker of light in the distance.

But now, all you could feel was the weight of responsibility pressing down on you like a heavy cloak. Rosie was a precious gift, but taking care of her felt like an insurmountable task some days. You loved her fiercely, but there were moments when the exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, the anxiety about whether you were doing enough gnawing at the edges of your mind. Would you be able to protect her? Could you give her the life she deserved in a world filled with danger and uncertainty?

You leaned against a sturdy tree, closing your eyes for a moment, letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. In the silence, you could almost hear your sister’s laughter, the way she used to tease you about everything and nothing. If she were here, she would know what to say to make things feel right again. She would tell you that you were stronger than you thought, that you could handle this, even on the toughest days.

But she wasn’t here, and the loneliness crept in, wrapping around you like a cold shroud. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing yourself, that you were more than just a mother now. You were a woman who had once fought fiercely for her own survival, for the lives of those she loved. You felt like you were at a crossroads, and you didn’t know which path to take.

As you pushed yourself off the tree and began walking again, your thoughts drifted back to Rosie. Every time you looked into her eyes, you saw hope, innocence, and a future that felt uncertain. You wanted to be the mother she deserved, to show her love and strength, but the weight of the world felt too heavy to carry alone.

You stopped again, this time looking up at the sky. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the landscape. It was beautiful and calming, a stark contrast to the chaos in your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

But just as the beauty around you began to ease your mind, the thoughts of Joel flooded back in. The way he had looked at you when you left, the pain etched into his features. You could feel the weight of his unspoken fears, his struggles, and the barriers he had built around himself. You understood that he was fighting his own demons, just as you were.

Maybe you both needed to find a way back to each other, to break through the walls that had formed between you in this chaotic world. But how could you do that when you felt so lost?

As the last rays of sun disappeared, darkness began to settle in, and a chill crept into the air. It was time to head back, back to the warmth of the home you had built with Joel and Rosie. You took one last look at the fading light, hoping that by returning, you could find a way to reconnect, to start rebuilding what had felt broken for so long.

As you made your way back through the woods, the tranquility of the setting sun was abruptly interrupted by a soft but unmistakable sound—a twig snapping underfoot, somewhere off to your right. Your heart quickened, instinctively alerting you to the potential danger lurking in the shadows.

You paused, scanning the area around you, the fading light casting long shadows among the trees. The woods felt eerily silent for a moment, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The last rays of sun slipped away, and you strained to listen, your pulse pounding in your ears.

Another sound—a branch rustling, followed by the faint crunch of leaves. You took a step back, instinctively reaching for the small knife tucked into your belt. Your breath hitched as adrenaline coursed through you, heightening your senses.

"Hello?" you called out, your voice steady despite the fear creeping in. The response was silence, thick and heavy, adding to your anxiety. You couldn’t afford to let your guard down.

Your mind raced through the possibilities. It could be an animal, or worse—another person, someone with malicious intent. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You were not helpless; you had survived this long for a reason.

You shifted your weight, ready to either fight or flee if necessary. “If you’re out there, you’d better show yourself!” you warned, your voice firm.

Suddenly, the underbrush shifted again, and a figure emerged from the trees, stepping into the dim light. Your heart dropped as recognition washed over you.

Joel emerged from the shadows, his expression a mix of concern and relief, and before he could say something. You felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The comfort of seeing him clashed with the frustration that had built up over the day. “I just needed some air,” you replied defensively. “Is that a crime?” you paused, “How did you know I was here?”

Joel stepped into the clearing, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he took in the sight of you. The mix of relief and frustration on his face mirrored your own. “It’s not the first time I find you hiding” he smiled at the memory of your first encounter.

You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at the memory he invoked. It was a different time, a different life when the world felt a bit less heavy. You recalled the first time you’d met Joel, crouched in the shadows of the quarantine zone, evading guards after a botched trade.

He had stumbled upon you, a rugged man with a wary gaze, just as you had thought you’d gotten away. You could still picture his surprised expression when he found you hiding behind a pile of crates. “What are you doing back here?” he had asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“Just… waiting for the right moment to slip away,” you had replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the pounding of your heart.

“Seems like you’ve got a knack for getting into trouble,” he’d said, a hint of amusement in his tone. It had taken you aback, how this stranger could see through your bravado with just a few words.

You shook your head to push away the nostalgia, forcing your focus back to the present. “That was a long time ago,” you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside you. “Things are different now.”

“I know they are,” Joel replied, his gaze unwavering. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take a breather sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak.”

You stood up straighter, still holding the knife but no longer on edge. “I needed to clear my head,” you replied, your voice calm but firm. “I needed to feel like I could still do this. Like I’m not just—”

“Just what?” Joel interrupted, stepping closer. His voice softened, and for the first time in days, you saw the raw emotion in his eyes. “You’re more than just a mother, you know that.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you. “It doesn’t feel that way,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “I’ve lost myself, Joel. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know if I can do this—be a mother, be what Rosie needs. Be what you need.”

Joel’s face softened, and he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice low. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

You shook your head, pulling back slightly, the doubt still gnawing at you. “But it’s not the same. You were gone, and I— I handled everything, but it feels like I’m failing now. I’m not enough.”

Joel stepped closer again, his hand reaching out to cradle your face. “You’re more than enough,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours. “I know it’s been hard, and I know I haven’t been the easiest to deal with. But you’ve been strong. You’ve done more than anyone could ask. And you don’t have to prove anything to anyone—not to me, not to Paul, not to yourself.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the vulnerability and exhaustion finally catching up to you. “I just… I just wanted to remember who I was before all of this. Before I became—”

Joel cut you off, his voice soft but firm. “You haven’t lost who you are. You’re still you, just… more. More love, more strength, more everything.”

His words hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. The knife slipped from your hand, falling to the ground with a soft thud. You reached up, covering your face with your hands as the tears came, the weight of everything finally crashing down on you.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you cried into his chest, his hands running gently through your hair. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

For the first time in a long time, you believed him.

After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, you pulled back, wiping your eyes. Joel looked at you with such tenderness, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

You nodded.

Joel leaned in, his eyes searching yours for a moment, as if he was asking for permission. You held your breath, feeling the tension in the air shift, charged with an unspoken understanding. Then, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours gently.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant but filled with a warmth that spread through you like sunlight breaking through the clouds. You melted against him, feeling the weight of the world start to lift as you leaned into his embrace.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “There’s that spark I’ve been missing,” he whispered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You chuckled softly, feeling a mixture of relief and affection.

“I love you,” Joel said, his voice earnest and filled with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything—everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said that made you feel alone. You deserve so much more than I’ve given you.”

His admission hung in the air, and you could feel your heart swell at his words. “You’re the reason I’m alive, Joel,” you replied softly. “I don’t think I would have made it this far without you. You gave me hope when I thought I had lost it all.”

He shook his head, his eyes glistening with sincerity. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t know where I’d be without you. You saved me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. You brought light back into my life when all I felt was darkness.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you felt the tears welling up again. “We saved each other, Joel. This isn’t just you. We’re in this together, and we always will be.”

He smiled, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his expression. “Together, then,” he said, the weight of his past starting to lift as he looked into your eyes.

Joel leaned in once more, capturing your lips in a more passionate kiss, filled with the promise

“Just promise me you won’t go hiding again,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You laughed lightly, a sound that felt foreign but welcomed. “Deal. I’ll try to stay where you can find me.”

“Good,” he replied, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Now, let’s get back to our girl before she thinks we’ve run off to join the circus.”

You chuckled at the thought, the tension that had hung over you both starting to fade. “I think she’d prefer a home-cooked meal over a circus,” you said, feeling lighter as you linked your arm with his.

“Home-cooked meals it is, then,” Joel agreed, guiding you back through the trees, the path familiar beneath your feet. “And maybe some ice cream for dessert. I think we’ve earned it.”

As you walked, hand in hand, you felt a warmth blooming in your chest, a sense of hope that had been absent for far too long. The forest around you seemed to come alive, birds chirping and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, echoing the newfound peace settling within you.

You reached the edge of the woods, the lights of Jackson glowing softly in the distance, and as you stepped back into that familiar world, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

With a smile, you glanced up at Joel, and in that moment, you realized that home wasn’t just a place—it was wherever the two of you were together. “Let’s go home,” you said, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.

“Yeah,” Joel replied, his expression softening as he looked at you. “Home.”

Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @keileighr @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet

If you want to be removed, feel free to tell me.

[oldsoul007]

taste

nicholas chavez x ex!reader

a/n: no disrespect to either of them or relationship all of this is just fiction!

Nicholas and y/n had a special connection when they dated. Their time together was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and memorable moments. However, as life moved on, they drifted apart, and Nicholas eventually found himself in a new relationship with a girl named Victoria.

Victoria is wonderful—kind, smart, and everything Nicholas could ask for in a girlfriend. Yet, despite his happiness with her, y/n is always in the back of his mind. He often finds himself reminiscing about the times he spent with y/n, the unique bond they shared, and the way she understood him like no one else.

Even though Nicholas tries to focus on his present with Victoria, there are moments when a song, a place, or a random memory brings y/n back to the forefront of his thoughts. He wonders how she's doing, if she thinks about him too, and whether their paths will cross again. This lingering presence of y/n in his mind makes him question if he ever truly moved on, or if a part of him will always belong to her.

Nicholas and Victoria were out for a casual stroll one Saturday afternoon when they unexpectedly ran into y/n. The encounter took Nicholas by surprise, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Y/n looked as beautiful and confident as ever, and seeing her brought a rush of memories flooding back.

"Hey, y/n. It's been a while. How have you been?" Nicholas asked, trying to keep his composure.

"I've been good. Just busy with work and everything. How about you?" Y/n replied with a warm smile.

"I've been alright. This is Victoria, by the way. Victoria, this is y/n," Nicholas introduced them, his voice slightly shaky.

"Nice to meet you, y/n!" Victoria said cheerfully.

"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. So, what have you been up to, Nicholas?" Y/n asked, her eyes lingering on him.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Work's been keeping me busy. It's really good to see you, though," Nicholas responded, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too. You look well," y/n said, her smile softening.

"Thanks. You too," Nicholas managed to say, his mind racing.

Victoria, sensing the tension, chimed in, "We should catch up sometime, all of us. It would be fun."

"Sure, that sounds nice," y/n agreed. "Well, I should get going. It was great running into you both."

"Yeah, take care, y/n," Nicholas said, watching her walk away.

As y/n disappeared into the crowd, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He realized that his feelings for her were still very much alive, leaving him deep in thought about what to do next.

Victoria and Nicholas had been having a wonderful evening at home when the topic of y/n came up. It started innocently enough, with Nicholas mentioning their recent encounter.

"You know, it was really nice seeing y/n the other day," Nicholas said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Victoria's expression changed slightly. "Yeah, it was. But, Nicholas, I've noticed you talk about her a lot lately."

Nicholas looked puzzled. "What do you mean? She's just an old friend."

"Is she really just an old friend?" Victoria asked, her voice growing more tense. "Because it feels like there's more to it."

Nicholas sighed. "Victoria, you're overthinking this. Y/n and I have history, but that's all in the past. You're the one I'm with now."

Victoria shook her head. "I don't know, Nicholas. It just feels like there's something unresolved between you two. And it bothers me."

Nicholas's frustration began to show. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't erase my past. Y/n is a part of it, but she doesn't have to be a threat to us."

"I just need to know that you're fully committed to us," Victoria said, her eyes pleading.

"I am committed to us," Nicholas said firmly. "But I can't change the fact that y/n was a big part of my life. You have to trust me."

Victoria looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's hard to trust when I see how you look at her."

Nicholas softened, stepping closer to her. "Victoria, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure. But you have to believe me when I say that y/n is just a friend now."

Victoria nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Okay, Nicholas. I believe you. But let's not talk about y/n anymore. Let's focus on us."

"Agreed," Nicholas said, pulling her into a hug. "Let's focus on us."

As they held each other, Nicholas hoped that this would be the end of the tension between them. He knew he had to prove his commitment to Victoria and make sure she felt secure in their relationship.

Nicholas and Victoria were at the local bar when they unexpectedly bumped into y/n again. It was a moment of surprise for all three, but Victoria's reaction was different. As she watched Nicholas and y/n exchange warm smiles and familiar glances, something clicked in her mind. She realized that the connection between Nicholas and y/n was deeper than she had ever imagined. It was in that instant that Victoria understood the true nature of their bond, and a mix of emotions washed over her, leaving her both intrigued and contemplative about what this meant for their future.

Nicholas and Victoria were sitting in their living room when the tension that had been building up finally reached a boiling point. The topic of y/n had come up once again, and it was clear that Victoria was not happy about it.

"Nicholas, I can't believe you're still hung up on her," Victoria said, frustration evident in her voice. "Every time we run into y/n, you act like she's the only person in the room."

Nicholas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Victoria, it's not like that. Y/n and I have a history, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. We're just friends now."

"Friends? Really?" Victoria shot back. "Because it sure doesn't seem that way. You get this look in your eyes whenever she's around, like you're remembering something more than just a friendship."

"That's not fair," Nicholas replied, his voice rising. "I can't control how I feel. But I'm with you now, and that's what matters."

"But is it really?" Victoria asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Because it feels like I'm always competing with her ghost. I need to know that you're fully here with me, not just physically but emotionally too."

Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Victoria, I care about you a lot. I don't want you to feel like you're second to anyone. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way."

Victoria looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "I just need to know that I can trust you, Nicholas. That you're not going to run back to her the moment things get tough between us."

"I promise you, Victoria," Nicholas said, taking her hand. "I'm committed to us. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

As they sat there, holding each other's hands, they both realized that this was a turning point in their relationship. They had to work through these issues if they wanted to move forward together.

Nicholas had been feeling increasingly guilty about his relationship with Victoria. He knew deep down that he couldn't continue pretending everything was fine. One evening, he finally mustered the courage to talk to her.

"Victoria, we need to talk," Nicholas began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to me. I still have feelings for y/n, and it's not right to lead you on."

Victoria looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. "I knew this was coming, Nicholas. I just hoped things would change."

"I'm so sorry," Nicholas said, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I can't do that right now."

After the difficult conversation, Nicholas felt a weight lift off his shoulders, but he was also filled with a sense of loss. He decided to reach out to y/n, needing someone to talk to.

"Y/n, I ended things with Victoria," he confessed over the phone. "I couldn't keep pretending. But now, I feel so lost."

Y/n’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nicholas, I still love you, but we can't be together. Not right now. You need to figure things out for yourself first."

Nicholas sighed, feeling the sting of her words. "I understand, y/n. I just needed to hear your voice."

They both knew that this was a time for healing and self-discovery. Even though they couldn't be together, their connection remained a source of comfort and strength for Nicholas.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Main Masterlist

Series:

Oh, Baby (dad!Jake Seresin): You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake’s heart. Now, a year later, you’ve returned and you’re not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake.

The One I Want (Jake Seresin x Plus Size!Reader): You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Signed Away (Arranged Marriage AU): You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plenty angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.

Stolen Angel (Angel/Demon AU): You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he's a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

One shots:

Forgetting: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Can’t Let You Go: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Rather Be with You: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

It’s oh so Quiet: you are in a bad relationship, and you just want to be with Jake.

Just a Little Weak:  You are Penny’s new bartender and she warns you to stay away from one particular pilot, so you do your very best to please your boss. It is only when Penny goes out of town for the summer, leaving you in charge of the bar, that the pilot finally makes his move, and you finally give in. 18+

Touch and Go: You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind. 18+

Lazy Mornings and Whatnot: After coming home from his last mission, Jake doesn’t want you to leave the bed and will do what he has to if it means insuring that you’ll stay, which leads to fluffy conversations.

Jealousy Game: You do a little experiment to try to make Jake jealous and it works, with unexpected consequences that change the way you thought the night would go. 18+

Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem; Jealous Jake and the Other Sleepover Buddy: You and Jake have a friends-with-benefits situation, but when he finds bite marks on you from another guy, he doesn’t handle it well. 

Split: You break up with Jake because his actions make you question everything you’ve had between you, but he wants you to take him back. 

A First and a Second: It’s soft Dad!Hangman from start to finish. And cute marriage stuff.

Wanting it all: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.  

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts: You and Jake had a history of flirting and occasionally kissing if too much time was spent at the bar, but it never went any further than that. One night, after showing up at your house and passing out on your couch, Jake wakes up the next morning only to learn he had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you.

Alive: After you get into an accident, Jake has a hard time coping with how close he was to losing you.

More Than What We Are: You and Jake are friends with benefits, and you have one rule: No feelings! Jake decides that rule doesn’t work for him anymore. 18+

Less Misery, More Company: Jake has feelings for you but you don’t believe it, so you play a little trick to get back at him for all of his flirtatious teasing. But that little trick fails miserably, and as the weight of your mistake settles in, you realize you owe him an explanation, one that requires you to admit some things you’ve long denied.

Back for More: Jake up and left you without explanation right before a mission. Now he’s returned wanting you back, but you want that explanation before you’ll be willing to let go of the pain and heartbreak from his sudden departure a month prior. 

Scrapes and Bruises:  When Rooster and Hangman get into a fight over you. Basically, Rooster is not thrilled about your relationship with Hangman, and their issues with one another bring up some fears of your own.

A Mission of Another Kind:Jake is assigned to a mission he did not think he would have to take part in, despite training for it with everyone else. Considering its high level of danger, you had been happy he hadn’t volunteered for it, until he came to your house one morning to tell you he had been assigned and would be leaving within the hour.

Drabbles:

He Doesn’t - Jake doesn’t do relationships...right?

Early - Jake’s a sweet boyfriend when reader gets her period.

Jake helps his drunk girlfriend

His Princess

“The bed is cold without you here”

Perfect for me, Baby - Jake is there for you when you have body-image concerns. 

Get Me Through - Jake helps you through the death of a loved one. 

[nekrosmos]

Price had to shave. Entirely.

It was for a minor surgery; one of his last op had left him with a small piece of shrapnel stuck under the skin of his jaw, which hadn’t been noticed right away, preventing the wound from healing properly. Sure, he could have only shaved the sides and kept a mustache, but he figured now was the time to do a full shave, even if he really, really hated the idea.

He didn’t tell anyone about the surgery, but Nikolai sure noticed his foul mood the few days before it. A few probing questions here and there, but John absolutely refused to elaborate, so Nik let it go.

And then the day came. They were busy getting ready, Price in the bathroom while Nik was getting dressed in their bedroom, hips moving to a song the speaker on his nightstand was blaring. That was why he didn’t hear the beard clipper buzzing, and that was why he almost fell back in surprise when he was greeted by a face he had not seen in well over 10 years when he turned around.

"Нифига себе John, give me a warning next time. What is this for?"

Price avoided eye contact, focused on getting inside his shirt and grumbling an answer Nikolai almost struggled to understand.

"S'nothing, got a small surgery later today, had to shave. Don't make a big deal out of it Nik."

A glance to the side of John's face and Nikolai noticed the wound, raising an eyebrow at this. He didn't like the fact that John had hidden a surgery from him at all, the captain's stubbornness often a point of contention throughout their relationship, but Nikolai had to admit that the sight of his lover's freshly shaved face was quite the distraction.

The initial shock now gone, a wide smile appeared on Nik’s face as he moved towards John, his arms wrapping themselves around his shape while John grumbled some more, trying to escape his partner’s embrace until Nik firmly locked his chin between his hand and lifted John’s face, finally taking in the full sight of a fully shaved John Price. 

“Aaaah, like when we were boys.” Nik said, smile still as wide, eyes tenderly staring at his lover while a thumb ran across John’s cheek.

“I look fucking twelve, Nik. Do you know how long it took me to shut the sergeants up last time Farah told them about my time without a beard? Three. Fucking. Months. They kept asking for pictures, tried to bribe Laswell a few times, too. I am never going to hear the end of it.” 

A hearty laugh escaped Nikolai’s lips, amused and endeared by John’s reaction. 

“You can always threaten them with hand-to-hand combat training with me if they give you any trouble.” 

Whatever complaints came out of John after this, Nikolai didn’t hear, as he was busy kissing the bare skin of John’s jaw and chin, big hands grabbing the side of his face and keeping him in place as he did so. It was like going back in time, flashbacks of their time together as younger men coming back to him, missions in the desert watching John’s face redden because he was too proud to wear a hat, memories of time spent together in bars, Price getting so drunk that Nik had to carry him back to the barracks, all those times Nik had stared at him with longing in his heart that he thought would never be fulfilled, only to now have him all for himself, all these years later. 

“I think we are going to be late, John.” was all Nik said before gently pushing John against their bed, lips immediately meeting his bare skin once more, kissing and teasing while John slowly relaxed under him, each kiss breaking his guard down, bit by bit. 

It would take John a long time to regrow his beard to what it was, and Nikolai was going to enjoy every single second of it.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Daddied: based on true events

“Come on bro! Why are you being so weird?” Lee mocked standing in next to the bathtub with a bottle of alcohol. “I mean you got the perfect body and what not I think but I’m really just not into guys”. Lee laughed at Nathan. Lee knew that Nathan has a crush on him. People even claimed that they had a bromance going on with how much time spent together but after all the months of Lee casually flirting, Nathan finally made a move. Only for Lee to laugh in his place.

Nathan walked out of the bathroom while Lee could be heard laughing at him. Nathan was heart broken. The first man that he actually felt a connection to. The one he grew to love. Just laughing at him. Rubbing the tears from his eyes Nathan laid in his apartment. In bed bundled up trying to find the courage to face the world again. He couldn’t continue on with this “bromance” any longer after being lead on for so long. He could feel his chest hurting. His heart breaking while he sobbed. He played back memories he had with Lee. Fun nights of playing games. Even the night when Lee told him that he better get his ass to class and get his degree. Lee was actually the reason he graduated college because he wanted to make Lee proud. He was the only one that pushed him to do. He even reminisced on the nights they would drink together. The deep conversations they had. The more Nathan thought. The more he got angry. He wanted Lee to pay for wasting his time. For breaking his heart. He didn’t want to feel this pain again. There was one memory that Nathan was playing back in his mind. And suddenly he shot up in bed. A dark smile creeped across his face.

—————————————————————-

Lee woke up the next morning with a hangover. “Ohh god how much did I drink?” He moaned to himself. His phone was buzzing. It was the chick he was flirting with at the very last night. “We need to talk was all the txt said”. Why would be need to talk? She was just a random chick he was flirting with. Dismissing the txt he swaggered to the bathroom. In the mirror flexing his muscles. And giving himself that perfect smile that got him out of so much trouble. His phone began to ring. He answered it not thinking about it only to hear the screeching of some chick. After a bit he said “oh yeah I remember you …. Wait… what are you saying!? WHAT!!” He dropped the phone. Apparently one of his hookups from a month ago was pregnant. He sat down on the edge of tub. Head in his hands trying to figure out what he was going to do. His stomach grumbled telling him it was time for breakfast but he wasn’t in any mood to eat. He walked back to his bedroom. Putting on some clean clothes. Not even noticed as he passed the mirror that his muscles had lost some definition.

He made it to the bistro next door, ordered some breakfast and took a seat trying to take in the news that he was going to be a Father. His phone rang again. This time the girl from last night. Reluctantly he picked up the phone. “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE” he screamed and slammed his phone down. She was claiming to be pregnant with his child too! And they didn’t even sleep together ! Lee picked his sandwich up to take a bite of his food when his hands caught him off guard. Dropping to the food he stared at them. Seeing dark hairs creeping out the back of them and traveling up his arms. Hurrying home he ran to the bathroom and took his shirt off only to see the dark hairs poking out of skin. His chest and abs has a dark sheen on then and turning sideways he could see his back had the same peach fuzz hairs that were growing. “WHAT IS GOING ON!”

Grabbing the razor he began to shave off all the hair that seemed to being growing like wild fire across his body. And only the. Did he see it. His muscles seemed to be deflating. It was starting to look like he skipped a few gym sessions. “What happening !!” He screamed.

His phone rang and he dreaded seeing who it was. Nathan. “I’ve decided to distance myself from you. Yesterday really hurt and I need this for me”. Lee sat on the bed. Head in hands sobbing. The one person he needed right now more than ever and he pushed him away. Lee didn’t know what was happening. He still felt hungry but all he wanted to do was sleep. It’s all he wanted to do with all the uncertain changes happening.

———————————

Waking up Lee felt more groggy than ever. He didn’t want to get out bed. Staring at the ceiling he didn’t know what to do. He can’t be a father of 1 kid let alone 2! His stomach churned and he knew he needed to eat something. Sitting up in bed he screamed. “WHT THE FUCK IS THIS!” Running to the bathroom he was horror struck. Hair was everywhere.

A thick beard coated his face. His muscle definition was gone. And his stomach was poking out as if he drank beer all the time ! Look down he see. Thicker legs that lead down to some meaty sweaty feet. That had the beginnings of dark hair coating them. He began to swap from all the changes. He was fucked. He didn’t know what was happening. And …and…was he SHORTER!! Judging his height from the bathroom sink he had to be at least 4 inches shorter!!

————————————————

A week last Nathan went to Lee’s apartment. The door was unlocked. Walking into the space the living area was completely disheveled. As if someone was tearing the place apart. On the couch was a large circled wrapped in a sheet. Water dripping from the opening where a face would be as the hunched over figure appeared to be crying. “Hello?” Lee’s could be heard. “GO AWAY!” Deep and raspy. Nathan sat down beside him. Asking what’s wrong? Lee responded that he was a freak. The exposed flesh that Nathan could see was a pair of large hairy feet that he could smell. Leading up to some tree trunk legs coated in the thickest hair he had ever seen on a man. He heard Lee’s stomach growling. “Do you need me to make you something to eat ?”

Whipping the sheet back Lee screamed “does it look like I need something to eat!?”

Nathan jumped back. Shocked at how large Lee had gotten. “I can’t even leave this apartment anymore without people calling Jaimie. Jaimie!!! I’m not my damn father ! I’m not!!” Lee’s phone wrong. “Oh no not again!!” As if on command his body immediately responded. His stomach swelling larger. His hair growing thicker and his body becoming smellier. The dark smile crept across Nathan’s face. Lee caught a glimpse of it. “You did this! You and your spells! What did you do!?” Nathan stood up and laughed at him. “Well. You always said you would never follow in the foot steps of your father. After the other day, I decided to make you do exactly that”. Le was becoming his worst nightmare. His own father and a father to many as well.