#instant win as everyone leaves

[squided]

I don't know if someone posted this a long time ago and that's why I know about it or it was cause I researched it myself but I haven't seen it around so I'm gonna post The Worlds Stinkiest Molecule

[gutsby]

Who’s Your Daddy?

Pairing: Stepdad!Joel x Reader

Summary: You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Deadbeat-Perv-Peepaw LOVES corny porn tropes and women over half his age. Stepcest & dubcon technically bc Reader’s locked inside an appliance, but she’s into it (getting fucked, not stuck). One (1) kick in the dick. Spanking. Brat-taming. Choking. Daddy issues. Size kink. Praise kink. Infidelity. Creampie.

Note: Saw this post by @ovaryacted and started BARKING. For my Old Man lovers/daddy issues crew, this one’s for you.

Word count: 8.3k

It was the closest thing to porn you’d ever done before.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to call it that.

And why should you? Financial straits were no anomaly to a girl your age, especially in this economy, and almost everyone you knew had a side gig of some kind. It just so happened that your job required slightly skimpier attire. And a webcam. And some very special…accessories that would likely send your grandmother into cardiac arrest if she ever took a peek inside your bottom dresser drawer.

Okay, it was definitely porn.

But you never showed your face, so it didn’t really count as the same kind of stuff that your family condemned.

You scampered out of your room the second you heard the front door to the house slam closed all the same. Arms laden with G-strings, stockings, satin bralettes, lace and tulle bodysuits of almost every style imaginable, you ran a quick, perilous path to the living room window and made sure to keep your head ducked low as you did. You peered out through the gap in the curtains and had to squint hard to see anything in the midafternoon sun.

Then you saw it and felt instant relief—they were leaving.

Your grandma for one, your mother for second, and wherever the latter was headed, you knew her shadow would be soon to follow. You saw a thick plume of smoke outside and surmised that Joel was somewhere around the other side of the SUV, smoking and droning on about how he was perfectly fi-i-i-ne to drive, don’t be like that.

By ‘like that’ he meant sensible. And by ‘perfectly fine’ he meant two Miller Lites shy of completely shitfaced. You could already imagine the wry smile on your mother’s lips as she tried prying the keys from his hands. Your stepdad would probably plant a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek to win a ‘yes’ in return—and when she shyly reminded him that he couldn’t afford to get another DUI, he’d get pissed and yank them out of her fist anyway.

Fucking loser.

Fucking triple-the-legal-limit dumbass motherfucker.

It didn’t bother you as much today because you knew they were only driving a couple blocks away to get to the farmer’s market, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he’d get caught. Again. Maybe blow a 0.25 this time and land his old, ungrateful, law-breaking ass in Travis County Jail, where his little brother Tommy was likely keeping a cell bench warm for him, per usual.

At any rate, you didn’t have time to be fantasizing now. It was your turn to embody some guy’s grossest wet dreams for the next two to three hours. Stripping away layer after layer of your latest, tightest ‘costume’ while catering to whatever requests happened to float in your inbox, you knew you’d be up to your eyeballs in work. Though almost routine by now, you had to hurry up.

If you could just get the rest of this ridiculous gunk out of your clothing, you’d be all good to go for the job.

TRMAN22: Pour honey on your tits in the next vid???

TRMAN22: Milk too. All over you.

Looking back, you probably shouldn’t have obliged that request. Now you were facing the consequences—forced to throw all your clothes in the washing machine because the milk and honey you’d dumped on yourself for that video had gotten everywhere, and then swiftly congealed while wasting away in a pile of laundry for over a week.

The whole heap smelled rancid. Still felt sticky, too. Presently, you chucked each one inside the washing machine while holding your breath, and as soon as the last was discarded, you sniffed the shirt you had on.

Tolerable. With the rest of your stuff in the wash, you hoped to get at least one request off the checklist:

TRMAN22: Bet you’d look sexy in a schoolgirl outfit!!

TRMAN22: Why don’t you try one on for me?

It was gag-worthy and gross. Slightly alarming for a man who was more than likely twice your age and old enough to remember Watergate, but you agreed to play along. Your old school uniform was, after all, the only clean clothes you had left, and ‘TRMAN22’ was, unfortunately, your top subscriber. He’d paid $300 for this video alone.

TRMAN22: Wear some NEON pink panties for me too ;)

You squatted in front of the washing machine and stuck a hand inside. You sifted around, furrowing your brows.

The brightest undies you owned were in there, soiled, but you figured you could get away with one gross article of clothing, all things considered. You reached a little further and continued to dig. When you couldn’t find it by feel alone, you peered inside the circular, metallic cavern of the washing machine and craned your neck.

Not here…not here…not—

You tilted forward, venturing a closer look with your head, then shoulders, pushing into the machine.

—here, not here, not—

“EW!” you shrieked.

In your search, you’d inadvertently brushed up against a mildewed piece of clothing that had gotten wedged between the grooves of the washing machine’s interior.

A pair of boxers, it seemed.

You recoiled as soon as your fingers grazed the wet and smelly thing. Your skull went crack against the low-sloped ceiling of the appliance, and a jolt of pain was quick to course through you at the contact. You groaned.

Of course Joel had forgotten some old, cum-stained scrap of fabric out of his last load. Always leaving his shit around for you or your mom to pick up like he owned the place. And here you went, again, angrily plugging your nose and pulling as hard as you could on the shorts to get them free from the washing machine. You hardly thought twice, just made a face and then yanked on it.

The boxers wouldn’t budge.

You tugged even harder. The fabric stayed put.

Something akin to a grunt and a whimper, only far more pathetic, slipped out of your mouth, and you slapped the half-hollow steel wall in frustration. Surrounded as you were—fully encased in metal—the sound just echoed.

“Fucking…CUNT.”

You weren’t sure if you were talking to the shorts, the machine, or Joel Miller in the abstract. Or maybe all three. You just hated the thought of washing your lingerie with your stepdad’s skivvies, and no amount of rational thought or practical reasoning could hold you back now.

The tip of your index finger sank deep beneath the same ridge of the wall where the boxers had gotten stuck. You curled it inward, trying to loosen the material up a little. You wriggled your knuckle even further. And just when you managed to get a hold of the cusp of the tangled fabric—just when it seemed the green plaid cluster was about to give way—you heard a low pop. You felt it, too.

Shortly, your finger was pinched inside the deep, blunt valley of steel that had similarly snagged Joel’s boxers. It seemed you’d pushed the tip of your finger so far that you were caught straight down to the second knuckle—trapped between two grooves of unforgiving alloy inside the washing machine tub with no clear means of escape.

You jerked your arm back, panicked. When the metal sank its teeth even deeper, you didn’t stop. Completely heedless of the pain, you operated on impulse and by the feeling of needing to get the fuck out of that little space, quickly, and instead yanked your hand back even harder.

To your horror, your finger was stuck.

“FUCK!”

You stared down at the poor digit, only half-visible inside the wall at this point, then glanced down at the heap of sweaty, sticky, slutty pieces of clothing that were presently strewn about you, and felt an even deeper stab of dread. Stuck inside your family’s washing machine with every bit of damning evidence one could hope to have—and wearing your old school uniform to boot—you realized at once you were fucked if you didn’t get out.

You slammed your palm against the nearest wall once more, shaking your other wrist like an unruly child.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!”

You weren’t good at solving problems. In point of fact, you sucked at all things prudent resolution-related and regularly made it a habit to capitulate whenever you sensed loss inevitable. You were a little like your mother in that way, quick to give in to life’s uglier challenges. The only way you could conceivably claim to be stronger, the only place you always had the strength to say ‘no’ was—

“Aw, shit.”

—Joel.

Your throat tightened as soon as you heard the voice. Your eyes went wide, and the rest of you went numb.

Bent at the waist and kneeling with half your body inside the washing machine, you remained there, motionless. Back arched and ass out. Thanks to the way you’d rolled your old plaid skirt, the fabric covered almost zero cheek.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. Then coughed.

And coughed again, again, and again. Evidently trying to clear the smoke out of his lungs and the surprise from his eyes as he drank in your sight from the doorway.

“What in the—wh—th—” You could hear Joel wheeze, beating his chest with his fist, “What— in— the hell?!”

“Help me,” you hissed.

You weren’t sure why you chose that as your go-to. It just sounded like the right thing to say, and frankly, you weren’t sure how else to distract from the fact Joel was probably gawking at your ass as he coughed up a lung.

“The fuck do you mean ‘help’?! What are you doing?”

The coughing subsided, if only momentarily. You tried pulling back on your finger again to get out, but couldn’t.

“I-I’m…I was just…” you stammered, heart racing.

You heard the tread of heavy footfalls. You felt them.

“Just—trying…” you ventured again, suddenly at a loss for words and breath alike as you felt a presence draw in.

You could smell him.

That realization alone made you want to stop taking in air altogether. It happened out of instinct, really—feeling the shift of two huge boots settle behind your feet and then flinching inward, further inside the metal tub for…safety? A pang of abject humiliation? You were far past the point of civility with the man, caring what he thought, or fearing for your modesty in a position like this, but something about the proximity now just made you itch.

You wished your finger wasn’t jammed inside this appliance so you could give that feeling relief, somehow.

At length, Joel’s voice dragged you back:

“What’s stuck?”

Too calm. A second passed. Then he added, more stern,

“This some fuckin’ joke’a yours or somethin’?”

“No!”

“Then what—”

“My finger. My finger’s stuck.”

You tried to crane your neck to see behind you, but all your eyes had to feast upon was denim. Bluish-grey stonewashed denim, faded with years of use. Joel stood back for a second, as if considering what to do, and then you saw two hands descend to brace themselves against his knees. He bent at the waist to get a better look below.

When his eyes locked with yours, you got the same twist in your gut as you’d felt before, only sharper. Shameful.

The look on Joel’s face was abnormally bright.

“And how on earth did that happen, dumbass?”

Your shame morphed into chagrin in a blink, seeing the ghost of a smile bleed into your stepdad’s features.

“‘Cause of you, leaving your shit in here!” you snapped. Your chin jerked toward the green fabric, “I was just trying to get your boxers unstuck—and my finger…”

Your finger was kind of fucked.

Joel cast a look inside at the source of your frustration. He extended his left arm and reached over your torso, and as he did, you felt the slightest, albeit solid, sort of warmth press in. The man let out a low groan of exertion—likely at the strain the movements placed on his joints.

The warmth got worse. You weren’t sure where it started.

Vaguely, you were aware of Joel’s thumb pressing into your hand. Gliding down your finger, stroking across the spot where your knuckle had gotten caught, he circled over it, slowly, and made another sound in his throat.

“Well that ain’t…good.” Not one to mince words.

By now, your whole body was on fire. You barely had the strength to keep kneeling, much less speak to the man thumbing your hand and pressing his heat so close—

“Just get me out!” you shrieked.

You heard your mother’s voice in that. A shrill, impatient lilt in her speech that came out, invariably, around Joel. Normally, he would have done something to deserve it. But today, with his hand splayed over yours and his breaths as calm and even-keeled as he could hope to have them while he tried to help, he was blameless.

Evidently, he heard a trace of your mother too, because you heard him laugh. You felt the reverberations of his amusement travel up from his belly all the way to his lips.

“Cool your pits, kid.”

For that, you would’ve loved nothing more than to reach back with your free hand and hit him in the balls. But, as it was, this man was your only hope for escape, and he was being tolerably polite, anyway. He pinched your finger between the tips of two of his and gave it a tug.

“Okay, lemme just—” Joel started.

“Why are you home, anyway?”

The question came out more clipped than you meant it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Joel countered evenly.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

You reckoned he could probably feel you roll your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see you do it right now. He waited another moment, then leaned back on his haunches and withdrew his arm from the tub.

“Mama don’t like me drinkin’ and drivin’, you know that.”

With that, the warmth was gone. Joel retreated.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”

You heard him exhale a little harder through his nose. When he’d steadied himself against the washing machine, gave his knees another second to prepare for getting up again, you could feel his eyes back on you. Maybe he lingered longer than his legs really needed.

Maybe if he hadn’t stayed crouched like that, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give your surroundings a second look. He wouldn’t have stopped to watch the rate of your breaths pick up or the way your skin startle to bristle with some strange, unknown sensation. He certainly wouldn’t have felt for himself the fever leaking out from the base of your spine right then.

Today just wasn’t the day for keeping secrets, it seemed.

“And what’s this?” You could feel Joel lean back in.

He was looking again. Peering inside. Steadying his weight with the edge of the washing machine gripped in one hand, while the other snaked its way back inside.

You’d already squeezed your eyes shut by the time Joel got a hold of something. You didn’t know what it was.

But it became painfully clear that it wasn’t just one ‘thing’ that had grabbed his attention at all, but rather a series of items that his hands were just now getting to explore. You didn’t have to see his broad and tan, callus-streaked fingers to feel them roaming over your clothes.

Gross.

Gross.

“Gross,” Joel agreed, as if he’d read your mind. Grinning.

If you thought the embarrassment was bad before, you really only knew a fraction of what humiliation could be. Your finger throbbed along with the pulse in your skull.

Your mother’s husband whistled and lifted something.

“Darlin’, this is just…disgusting.”

You winced. You tried not to pry an eye open, to steal a covert look through the frame of your lashes in that dim and crowded spot, but the inducement was too great—Joel was dangling one of your lime green G-strings like it was a fish he’d just caught out on the lake. Boasting it.

Doting, almost.

“Well I’ll be—”

“Will you quit?!” you snapped.

You grabbed the thing out of his hand and threw it aside.

“Can you be serious? For one fucking secon—”

“Oh, I’m bein’ serious, sweetie,” Joel cut in. Cool as ever, “Serious as the business end of a .45, I swear.”

He paused. Then he reached for a white nylon bustier, drenched in a layer of honey that was as hard as a rock.

“Do you always keep your little…skank tanks so filthy?”

That was it. You kicked your heel back—and up—and made a pass to hit your stepdad square in the balls.

Your aim wasn’t the best it’s ever been, seeing that half your body was trapped inside a home appliance at the moment, but what your jab lacked in accuracy, it made up for in force: your foot plunged into the seam of Joel’s jeans full throttle. From the way the back of your heel plowed into his crotch, and the sound that clawed out of his throat the same instant, you reckoned you did okay.

What you weren’t expecting was a smack in return.

An answer in kind—delivered by the palm of Joel’s hand.

A taut, thoughtless THWACK on the swell of your ass.

Your mouth fell open. Your body barely had the chance to recoil when, shortly, another blow landed on your cheek.

Joel spanked you.

Spanked you.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he spat. His palm had slid up with the weight of his last slap, and now his fingers were clenched in a fist in the back of your skirt. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel him gripping fabric. It was firm.

He was firm—unrelenting in his hold.

Kneeling behind you, yanking back a handful of tartan skirt like it was nothing, then sidling up behind you.

And just when your attention was drawn to some other firm thing, it was shortly diverted by another sensation.

“JOEL!” you shrieked as he gave you another spanking.

The bare skin of your cheeks was on fire. Joel hit hard. Just when you feared you might legitimately whimper with the sting of that last blow, and while the imprint of his palm was still fresh, you felt it move again. Lower.

“Joel.”

That came out more like a whine than a cry of protest. And how could you, now, when he was soothing the raw bite of his hand with a touch that was kneading the skin?

Working the soft, supple flesh of your ass in his hand like he’d never dream of being anything else but gentle to it.

“Good?” Joel said.

Your head flinched to nod, but your brain thought better.

It did feel good. So good, in fact, that your eyelids were starting to droop just a bit and your back was subtly arching into the touch, but those were only instincts. Stupid, useless, brain-rotted reflexes born of years of paternal neglect and replete indifference, the likes of which could bring a grown man to his knees, begging—

“Please.”

But the entreaty was your own, and the voice that spoke it was hoarse. Your belly sank into the circular aperture of the washing machine, and you could feel your ribs scraping close to metal. Nevertheless, you didn’t mind. That ditzy lizard brain of yours was starved for physical touch, and who were you to deny her at a time like this?

No, not when Joel was squeezing like that.

Groping was the more appropriate word for it, really. Notwithstanding the decades of sexual experience that no doubt preceded the man that was standing before you—behind you—today, Joel was unduly coarse. His broad, weathered hand made as if to cool its former sting, but the motions themselves were jerky. Desperate.

He needed this worse than you, the fucking pervert.

Just when the realization had begun to settle over your mind and your legs were getting to feel a little less like jelly, knowing you weren’t the only weak one here, Joel’s palm slowed down. He pressed the heel of it into your flesh as if to force himself to stop, then he took a breath.

“Now use your words.”

“But—” you sputtered.

“I said,” Joel resumed, and you could sense it was through gritted teeth. His movements came to a halt.

“We use our words when we want somethin’, hear?”

It was the first you’d heard Joel attempt to enforce anything close to discipline with you in your life.

That had to warrant a little defiance, no doubt.

Under your breath, quiet: “So ‘we’ includes ‘you,’ too?”

Beneath that one, seemingly innocuous question was lurking another, and both of you knew it: Remember that time you put a fist through the kitchen wall? Was that a good example of what it means to ‘use words,’ Joel? Whether it was adequate provocation or not, you could sense what was coming next before you’d even finished. When the spank landed on your right cheek so loud that it echoed, you didn’t flinch. You did snag your lip between your teeth to keep a sound from spilling out.

“A dad makes rules. Ain’t his to follow,” Joel growled.

You blinked and bit down harder. Watched the broad, amorphous shape of the man’s reflection shift along the back metallic wall in hues of grey and blue and wished you had the strength to turn around and face him then.

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Said ‘a’ dad, didn’t I?”

“You’re not that either.”

Heat was rising to your cheeks again, this time for different reasons. For a cause you were far better acquainted with to date—annoyance at Joel.

“So that means I’m—”

“Nothing. You’re nothing to me,” you finished, tone wry.

Nothing to anyone, you wanted to add. Not with a shiny gold band latched onto your left hand to tell the world that you’re married to my mother, a pack of smokes tucked away in the jeans she washes every week, or a couple years spent under the same roof as me. Nothing.

Your teeth clamped back down—and almost sank clean through your lower lip this time—when next you felt a touch at the plush, covered mound that was normally shielded between your legs. The spot that was hardly ever tilted up in a position like this, exposed to the air and a man’s hungry gaze, now invaded by the press of a single thing: a warm and soft middle finger at your core.

Joel brushed the tip of it against your entrance, through your panties, and sucked a breath through his teeth when both of you felt a tiny squelch at the pressure.

He pressed harder, and the wetness only spread.

You didn’t have to be in Joel’s position to know what he was seeing, but the feeling from his finger overpowered any better sense to speak—or tell him to stop. He traced his slow, cruel circles against your warmth and moved it up to where he knew he’d find your bud, and when you whimpered, he simply added his index to the mix. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were leaking heat at that point. You could feel it seeping beneath his touch.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel breathed, voice low. Your arousal made a sickening hiss beneath his fingers as he rubbed you even harder, “This feel like nothin’ to you, honey?”

You couldn’t speak. He knew you weren’t capable of it.

“‘Cause this sure don’t feel like nothin’ to me.”

Wet and tacky beneath his touch, your warmth supplied the answer that your mouth couldn’t form. It came out in more of a tap, tap, tap, punctuated by breaths that were toiling in earnest not to turn into moans too soon. But, as hulking and clumsy as his hands had once shown themselves to be, the old man knew where to put them, at least. He made circles on your clit with practiced ease.

“You can try lyin’ to me, but she can’t.”

He was right. ‘She’ was a traitor.

You could deny it all you wanted, but the proof was there.

Indeed, she was crying. Aching. Bleeding with desire. Throbbing beneath the pads of Joel’s fingertips and growing only more desperate as he increased the speed of his touch. When he notched the drenched cotton to the side, you had to grit your teeth to keep in a whimper.

Joel whistled.

“See? Seems like she likes me just fine right here.”

Your jaw stayed wired shut with the weight of your own humiliation. Instead of answering aloud, you hummed. Made a sound low and soft in your throat like, ‘Uh-hmm’ and tilted your hips, as if you didn’t know how else to ask. Joel couldn’t see inside the washing machine, but he must’ve felt the gesture, because he greeted it with a motion of his own: he chuckled, and he puckered his lips.

And when you felt the warmth of his spit hit you between your folds, your shame should’ve tripled. Should’ve made you flinch away from his touch and tell him that was so fucking gross, Joel, stop, but then he smeared it up your slit. He pressed in and mixed it with the rest of your arousal; any reproach died on your tongue in an instant.

A part of him was on you now. Trickling in, sticking to the most sensitive part of you, and settling into your skin like a glaze. With his other hand, he found your skirt again.

“Who’re ya wearin’ this for, sweet pea?” Joel murmured.

“No one.”

Another glob of spit landed between your cheeks. Now, the man used the lubrication to sink two fingers inside you—pushing them in until the rim of your cunt met his knuckles. You whined at the stretch, felt him coax your walls open with a consciousness and a carefulness that felt almost mean, but then he stroked down the base of your spine with the hand that still held onto your skirt. He soothed your startled cry with a curl of his fingers.

And he found the soft, spongy patch of flesh inside that made your eyes roll straight to the back of your skull, quickly. Working his fingers in and out, flattening the base of his free hand over the skin exposed by your flipped-up skirt, and watching your body give way to the force of his fingers, he was uncharacteristically patient. Exacting in the way he worked your body open to him.

“What do you care?” you groaned. You winced when you felt a squelch signal that he’d stretched you even wider.

“‘Cause,” Joel started, slow. Pumping his fingers through your folds and likely wondering when he’d add a third, “You got your hand stuck in a fuckin’ washing machine, a treasure trove of this slut stuff piled in a heap…I mean…”

“They’re just clothes!”

“Just clothes?”

In the wake of those terse, incredulous words, you tried your best to match his tone—call his bluff—but the only sound that came out of your mouth was punctured by a pitiful whine. He tried another finger but couldn’t fit it in. As wet as you were, and as strong as he was, your cunt wasn’t quite ready to accept all three of Joel’s thick, probing digits inside. You’d fit more than a thing or two with a girth even greater than that in the past, but you figured your nerves might have something to do with the way you were tightening around the man’s fingers now.

Why you couldn’t take more of him in, as much as you wanted him there, felt, at present, like something of a shortcoming, and a pathetic one at that. You let out a breath, and a second later, Joel slowed his motions.

You didn’t expect him to stop. Didn’t hold out a hope he might curtail his pace and talk you through a quiet, gentle arrangement for fitting a third finger inside you—that just wasn’t him. You didn’t have to share a paper-thin bedroom wall with your mother and her husband for the last however many years to know that Joel Miller was not a tender lover. It simply wasn’t in his nature to care.

So when you heard the clink of a belt coming undone a moment later, your senses strangely flooded with relief. He wouldn’t care, wouldn’t inquire, wouldn’t coddle with false, romantic ideals of how a woman should be treated.

In that way, Joel shared something in common with your father after all: he set standards as low as they could go.

“Just clothes?” he repeated, snapping your underwear against your ass and jerking the fabric further aside.

Then somehow send those expectations even lower.

There was a hand splayed out across the small of your back. Another fiddling with the front of his pants, wrestling the button and zip of his jeans in little more than one, two, three careless seconds, before he drew in closer to your rear. Your slit was messy, wet, and exposed to his eyes once again. For a second, you almost took comfort in the fact that your hand was still wedged inside a groove of steel and you couldn’t meet his gaze.

That was, until Joel slid his bare length along the seam of your cunt. When the inability to see him made it so you had no other choice but to be surprised when he finally touched you was unnerving, to say the least.

And when the head of his cock blended seamlessly between your folds, was drenched in less than a blink and nearly notched straight into the place you needed him most—well, that had an effect on him, too. Joel moved his flat and sweaty palm up your back, found purchase in the hem of your blouse, and gripped it. Tugged it down a little more and let a low groan billow out of his throat while he rocked his hips back and forth.

Desperate, clumsy, pussydrunk Joel was back before you’d even realized he’d left. Only now he was keen to put the disquiet and hesitations to rest; he needed to fuck you before either one of you wisened up just then.

Your parts and his commingled again. First, with the lethally warm trail of precum leaking out from his tip. Then the intrusion that followed, inevitably, glossed with self-indulgence and desperation—soiling any semblance of platonic affection or parental attention—as he fed you the first inch of him. Barely half the head got fitted inside and your grip on that was like a vice. Joel’s was bruising.

Suddenly firm on your hips, carving crescents in the skin:

“When’s the last time you got fucked, baby?”

You reckoned Joel had a guess—and it wasn’t correct.

“Last…week,” you whimpered, words punctuated with a sigh as his cock tried to make room for more of him.

Joel sucked in a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He’d barely gotten an inch past his tip, facing more resistance than he’d felt in a long, long time, and you were wet, but so tight. He was big but not so massive as that. He couldn’t fathom what you were saying was true.

“That…fratboy fuckstick you went out on a date with?”

“Didn’t think you even saw me leave.”

Joel withdrew, gripped your hips even tighter, then drove his cock to nestle three solid inches inside your cunt. It was extra snug, but he made sure to try to loosen you up with a couple short, shallow thrusts and a hand gradually drifting down between your legs. Of course he saw you.

The circles on your clit and slow-growing movements may as well have been kerosene in your veins. With what limited range of motion you had in that grey, compact space, you let out a sigh and dug the fingers of your free hand into the closest scrap of fabric beside you. Joel’s own touch gradually moved from your hip to drag your hand behind your back, clasping his. He fucked in deeper

“So that’s who this is for?” Thumbing your skirt.

“Y-Yeah,” you lied.

“Wanted to send naughty pics in the schoolgirl getup?”

“Yes,” you lied again. You closed your eyes when Joel sank his cock even deeper and made you stretch inside.

“‘Atta girl,” he praised.

It might’ve been the first he’d validated you in your life.

“Grippin’ this cock extra tight, ain’t ya, sweet girl?”

Never in a million years would you have imagined it’d come this late—or leave Joel’s mouth in a way like that.

‘Elastic’ wasn’t a word you’d ever used to describe your body, either. Frankly, there was no need for it to be; every one of your partners before had been average-sized, and every other object that went inside you, too, had almost always been a comfortable squeeze between your walls. Outside of maybe your first time and a once-off awkward hookup now and again, you were never forced to feel a stretch to this degree. Joel felt huge moving inside you.

He was nearing your cervix and still nowhere close to the base of his cock. Meanwhile, you were stuffed to the brim, saturated with arousal and his spit, and practically keening at every stab of his hips. You couldn’t reach back because Joel’s fingers were still enmeshed with yours, gripping them hard behind your back. As wore down, fucked out, and desperate as you already were, you were less than only a second away from asking him to ease up.

And then he stopped.

Joel pulled out, let go, and pressed onto the old washing machine, where you heard his touch echo through metal.

He was leaning against it. You were about to turn around. Before you could, though, you felt his form mold into yours—this time not in it, but on it, as he drew closer and once more reached into the space where you were stuck.

“Can you be brave for me, baby?” Joel murmured.

“Wh—” you started, soft, only to feel the words plucked straight from your lungs as Joel leaned his body inside. Carefully, and with concerted effort, it seemed, he was trying to squeeze his way into the O-shaped hole of the washing machine, snaking his arm around your torso.

Pinching your finger again. Breathing just gently enough for his exhales to tickle at your shoulders and your neck.

“Can you be brave?” he repeated, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him so soft-spoken, or felt him so close.

You nodded, not knowing why.

Without another word, your stepdad pinched the digit even tighter and yanked it out from where it was stuck.

It all happened so fast. Joel freeing your finger, squeezing it tight, helping you out of that hot and crowded space while your legs gave way like mush beneath your weight—and your hand throbbing in pain. You’d never thought a single finger could cause a feeling as strong as that, but it stung like hell. You almost raked your nails through the man’s arm when he tried to hold you back, holding you up just as well as you stood.

“Joel!” you screeched, like the whole thing was his fault.

You flexed your hand and wanted to sob. You could feel the streaks of pain start to claw up your wrist, were just about to shove Joel aside and wallow in agony, when at length, he did something strange and unexpected again.

This time, he lifted your index to his mouth and kissed it.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. Coming from Joel, it hardly even seemed affectionate. His lips were so warm and firm and decidedly unacquainted with anything approaching a threat of tenderness that his act read almost aggressive. He let your finger rest loosely against his mouth, and he kissed it again, while his eyes burned holes into yours.

‘You’re okay’ came out muffled against your hand.

“You’re okay—hey—baby, you’re good. Don’t cry.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears had started to form. You blinked and felt one trickle down your cheek. With the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Joel brushed his thumb against that lone trail of moisture. He didn’t cup your face, hold you close, or stroke your cheek in the seconds that followed, though he did keep kissing you.

Or, rather, it—your finger.

Joel didn’t have to care for you at all. He just feared he might’ve pulled on your hand too hard in getting you out.

‘You’re okay’ was being mumbled away like a fractured refrain, touch descending gently to your hip, and his eyes grew softer by the second, surely he had to be thinking it.

Sinking inside you, again. He was standing; your hips were tilted to his, and your ass was pressing flat against the front of the washing machine. All it took was an inch or two off the ground and your limbs hanging limply around his hips for Joel to fuck back into you. He sucked on your finger so hard you feared the skin might actually bruise—a hand hickey, of all fucking things—and when his grip tightened on your side, you knew he felt it too.

His teeth succeeded his lips in an instant, and he was biting, gnawing pathetically as a groan shuddered through his chest. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said the sound was veering perilously close to a whimper.

Fully sheathed inside you, Joel Miller didn’t seem to care. His lids fell like lead across the upper half of his brown, glossy eyes, and the expression behind them was blank.

Safe.

“‘S’alright, baby,” he grunted. Maybe he’d just seen you wince, as he cradled your hand and withdrew another inch, “Keep squeezin’ me, it feels real good. Right here.”

Out of instinct, your gaze drifted down to the spot where his body joined with yours. The sight was hardly a shock, but the feelings it evoked were not—he had you split along two-thirds of his dick, a pretty shelf of belly protruding beneath and gleaming with the arousal he’d drawn out from your body. Tufts of silver and grey littered his skin in every direction, aged muscles tensed with the weight of each thrust, and the warm weathered hand that hadn’t dared touch you once before today was now cupping your chin. Tilting your head closer to him.

“Right here, baby. Look at daddy.”

Wild, unbridled heat flooded your brain in a second. The thing seared the insides of your skull with all the force of a fire and stole the air from your lungs just the same—still, you couldn’t refrain from making a face in disgust.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You shouldn’t have liked it.

His hand ascended your throat in a blink.

“Ain’t that what you want, sweet pea?”

“I—”

Just as you started to answer, though, his cock took a dizzying plunge, hitting exactly the right spot inside you. Like clockwork, your mouth fell open, a whine tumbled out, and Joel took that as his chance to grip your neck even tighter and push your hips against the washing machine, where his height afforded him an easy hold.

“What you want—”

He squeezed harder.

“—what you need—”

You gasped, starved for air. It wasn’t every day a man took your breath away. Not like Joel could, anyway.

“—is me, ain’t it?”

The gaze fixed on your face was alight with desire.

“Bet you miss him somethin’ awful, huh? Been needin’ a man to fill that spot ever since he left, haven’t ya, baby?”

‘He’ required no further clarification. The words stung. You communicated as much by wriggling your hips back and pressing your hand against Joel’s chest, just quit it.

Keep fucking me, but shut the fuck up about my father.

“I don’t miss shit,” you sniffed. Felt the head of Joel’s cock carve a shape somewhere deep inside your body and couldn’t pretend it wasn’t filling a metaphorical void someplace else. You hadn’t got this much attention from a man as many years your senior since…well, ever, really.

You preened beneath his touch. Wanting to feel. Wanting to please. Wanting, more than anything, to be needed.

Joel sated each craving with a simple hand smoothed over your face. His palm moved from your throat to your chin to the hinge of your jaw before coming to rest at the nape of your neck. This time squeezing lightly, bringing your face in close while he fucked you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and your stomach tightened inside you.

“That’s alright,” he said, words hardly above a whisper, “No need to miss that man at all, ‘cause I’m right here.”

For once the assurance came as somewhat of a comfort. You suspected it had something to do with the fact he was balls deep inside you and pushing you closer and closer to the brink of release with each painstaking stab of his cock. You fisted his flannel, holding him there. Spreading your legs, accepting his thrusts, taking each movement with ragged, shallow breaths and moans that blended with his own, you felt your body grow warmer.

Almost febrile beneath him as he tilted your head again.

“Who’s your daddy now?”

You winced, shaking your head. You hated that word.

“Who’s your daddy?”

Joel lowered his hand and began to thumb at your clit. Hot pleasure coursed through you, made you whine at the contact and dig your heels even deeper in his back.

“Who’s your daddy, baby? It ain’t that hard to say.”

But it was. Joel stroking your clit, stuffing you full, ghosting his lips against yours without ever furnishing a kiss, just goading you on with: ‘I know you wanna say it.’ Tough grey stubble teased your mouth with each word.

“I know she needs to cum, sweet girl. Know that poor little pussy’s taken a beating—and she’s done so good for me—but she needs to let it out now. All over me.”

His gaze held yours. You couldn’t turn away.

An unmistakable tenderness pervaded that look, and it didn’t seem keen to depart. No matter how tightly you pursed your lips, made fists in his shirt, or choked his cock between your walls in fluttering, desperate pleas, the man remained calm. Attentive. The eyes didn’t stray.

“It’s okay to say it.”

“C-Can’t—”

“Sure can. Be the easiest thing you ever do—D-A-D-D—”

“Please. Please.”

You hardly even knew what you were asking for at this point, only beholden to that big, swollen something in your tummy starting to give way beneath the push of Joel’s cock. Tightening up, leaking out, practically drooling down the length of this man who seemed relentless in his current pursuit. Two more circles on your clit and you were keening, whimpering pathetic as ever:

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Say it now. Who’s it for?”

Above you, Joel’s teeth gleamed in a smile—or a snarl, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the pleasure, the concomitant pain of having to contain this desperation while his thrusts sped up. You were bouncing on him, getting fucked against the washing machine in the raw and terrible central Texas heat wearing a sheen of sweat and a set of clothes that no longer fit your body, but that was just fine. You were okay. Joel was here, and he was holding your head, lips hovering less than an inch away.

“Who’s. Your. Daddy?” His words were slow. Coarse. Spilling into your mouth with every short puff of breath.

You couldn’t take it. You felt a band of pressure come to a head in your belly and the brush of Joel’s cock making its rounds in and out of your swollen cunt, pushing hard, and you knew that you’d had enough. He knew it, too.

“Y-You.”

“Who?”

“Joel.”

“Who?”

Your wet, pearly slick rang a deafening pitch. Enough.

“You, daddy! Daddy—please, fuck—I-I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Gonna cum for me? Make a mess of your old man?”

“Make a m-mess— yes, daddy, yes—” you slurred.

Joel drove his cock, fully coated in you, down to the hilt. He captured your lips in a kiss and didn’t even mind your mouth was whining, hissing, whimpering its filthy pleas for him to fuck a nice, big orgasm out from your body.

“—want yours inside,” you added, without realizing it.

“Sweet girl…” Joel groaned.

You didn’t know what you were asking him for. How badly he wanted it, too. His cock dragged in and out of your precious cunt and was barely more safe from the threat of its grip when you spasmed, at the last. Joel should’ve expected no less, after all the time he’d spent teasing and edging, then begging you gently, in grunts, ‘Cum for daddy, baby. Let me have it, that’s it, good girl.’ Still, somehow, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

When you squeezed your eyes shut and kissed him back—that was all it took. When you clenched on his cock, gave the front of his shirt a tug, locked your ankles about his hips so you could more properly increase that friction by fucking him back, grinding in place, he feared he might fairly make an irreparable, unforgivable mistake.

And when the whites of your eyes appeared again—eyelids fluttering open while your lips were glossed with his spit and a lazy smile—and said what you said next, he sensed that his fate was sealed. The old man was fucked.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Joel couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. He shuddered, then flooded your insides with rope after rope after rope of his spend, burying his face in your neck and taking your hips in his hands like a looser grip might lose you to him forever. He fucked his cum deep, deeper, darlin’ don’t move, can’t lose a drop, baby, please, he let out a whimper that made your walls pulse again. You felt him fill you to the brim and keep rutting his hips. Your body and his were shaking by the last of it.

And when he was finished, Joel dropped a kiss along your limp, glistening lips. He slid you back on the metal. By the expression on his face, it was plain to see he was loath to withdraw, but he had to. That tender little hiss and the sounds of your shared fluids trickling out were all the impetus he needed to act quick. As soon as he’d pulled out, Joel was back leaning against the washing machine—tilting your hips back a little, then lowering his sweaty, handsome head to the spot between your legs.

The wrinkles to the sides of his eyes grew more pronounced when he smiled. A happy grin, plastered across his lips, would have struck you as almost smug, were it not for the look of sheer adulation that followed it.

Joel was enthralled, watching his cum leak out of you. He kissed your thighs, flickered his gaze to your own, briefly, then damn near sank his nose inside the place he was watching before your fingers stopped him cold.

It was your body, after all. He had already had his fill.

Hardly knowing what came over you in that moment, you sank two fingers inside your wet, drooling hole and watched the eyes of the man beneath you go wide. He soaked in that sight completely: you pushing his cum back in, drawing it out, using the viscous white liquid as a lubricant of sorts before releasing a pleased little sigh.

Joel closed his mouth reluctantly. It took him more than a second to tear his eyes from that place, but when he did, the motions were quick to grow assured, by turns.

As if remembering something.

In a second, the innocent smile you’d seen before was being infiltrated, slowly, by a look you couldn’t place. Joel’s grin morphed from gentle to contented to plainly enthused and beaming ear-to-ear with a conceited glint. With his finger, he tugged your panties back into place.

“Baby—” he started, only to be cut off lightning-quick.

“What? What is it?”

His smile stretched even wider. By that act alone, you were half-tempted to forget the events of the last hour and set your jaw in a scowl. You looked down, unamused.

“What?”

“It’s just…” The man trailed off, and as he did, his gaze descended with it—straight down to your bare pantyline.

You cast a look there too—“What the fuck is it, Joel?!”

At that, two brown eyes flitted back up to you.

“I thought I asked for neon pink underwear, baby.”

Your breaths slowed. His gaze didn’t waver. Your heart came to a standstill in your chest, and you were amazed you had even half your present willpower then to speak.

“Wait, Joel, wh—”

“Shame you couldn’t get around to filmin’ today. Had me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that milk and honey stuff.”

You nearly choked on your spit. Joel kept grinning.

“You’re—”

The guy. That fucking subscriber. The one who’d paid almost $500 in commissions in the last month alone.

You stared at Joel with eyes as wide as saucers, and were about to press on, when you heard the front door to the house shriek back on its hinges. Two sets of footsteps followed it, and their entry inside was loud.

Immediately, Joel rose to his feet. It seemed that grin wasn’t meant to stay long on his lips, because the next thing you knew, he was dropping a kiss somewhere soft and sweaty on your face and flipping your skirt back into place, holding his index up to his lips and stepping away. Your mouth twisted into a frown but stayed zipped out of sheer necessity. Seeing this, and likely unable to help himself, your gross, depraved, grinning old man leaned back in and planted his hands on either side of your hips on the washing machine. His nose nudged into your own.

“Between us—” he began, slowly.

“Get fucked,” you finished for him.

Joel nodded his assent, smirk faint. He cast a look over his shoulder, and, hearing what sounded like your mother’s footsteps drawing closer, lowered his voice.

Rubbing his thumb under your chin, making you tip your head back to meet his for one final look—then a kiss:

“You keep my secret, I keep yours, alright?”

—

Note: I’ve never done a real writing challenge before, but hopefully this fic will work for #hotdilfsummerchallenge !!! @hellishjoel this is such a fun ass idea & i hope you enjoy❣️

[d0rothydraws]

Part 2 of The Bet where Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy and then stuff happens Part 1 Here

Content: f!reader, Multiple orgasms, body worship, pet names, oral (f! receiving), aftercare

w/c: 2.3k

ao3: Here

a/n: Honestly I didn't think i would get this done as fast as I did but I was at dinner today and instead of waiting for the food like a normal person I started it and then got home and kept going until it was finished. I hope everyone likes this one as much as the first one

"You would have done the same thing if you were in my position, Sweetie." Sylus said as he looked at you, your eyes watering, lips swollen, face red from having his cock down your throat on my moments ago. Thinking you could take your time and tease him, he grew impatient. And now here you were, moments after getting face fucked about to make another damn bet.

“No, I have more self restraint than you." You said, pouting as you looked away, ignoring how raw and strained your voice sounded.

"I don't believe you." He whispered, a low chuckle. "Let's test it, shall we? Another bet perhaps?” His hand moved to grab your chin, making you look back at him. “If you win, if you manage not to touch me at all, I'll buy you that giant plushie you've been wanting.” Your eyes lit up.

“The 6ft tall one? Really? I thought you said it was ugly”

“It is ugly. But I won't be losing.” Sylus said with a smirk and you pouted. “When I win, all I want from you is simple.” He said, trailing his thumb over the bottom of your lip. “Just admit that you have no self restraint around me.”

His voice was low, quiet. Your ears tingled as you heard his words. A shiver ran down your spine and you refused to look away.

“Fine. But I won't be losing either.” You muttered and Sylus chuckled. He moved your positions so you were laying back on the bed and he was over you. His arms caged you in as the smell of his cologne and sweat filled your senses as he looked down at you.

“So feisty for a kitten who's just gotten their throat ravished.” He whispered, lips to your ear as he began. His nose trailed from your way to your neck, soft kisses against soft skin. You weren't used to him being particularly gentle. You felt your thighs push together as you took a slow breath trying to calm yourself.

As you pressed your thighs together, his knee came in-between them, spreading them again. His lips moved down your neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of red marks as he bit and nipped softly. As his lips reached the strap of your dress, he gently pulled it down.

“Let me see all of you, sweetie.” He breathed against your skin as he helped undress you. He sat back, looking down at you as your dress was diagarded. Slowly his hand moved against your spine, reaching your bra strap. In an instant it was unfastened, slipping down your arms as he pulled it off gently and let it fall beside the bed with the growing pile of clothes.

His head dipped down, the flat of his tongue dragging against the canyon of your chest. His hands gently took you in his hands as he felt the soft mounds between his fingers. His thumbs pushed against your nipples, flicking them gently. The sensation made you twitch, gasping as you watched him. He looked up at you as his eyes met yours, his lips brushing against the skin before he reached your tender nipple. His eyes never left yours as his tongue flicked out, wetting the nub before bringing it into his mouth.

You whimpered. You couldn't help it. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin, your hands clinging to the bedsheets in an attempt to not curl your hands in his beautiful silver hair. For a second you forgot about the bet. And you weren't going to give in that easily. Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, arching your chest more into his mouth making him give a sound of approval.

His hands cradled and held you in a way that drove your mind to mush. His hands were rough, calloused. Big and strong. And yet, so, so gentle. As if he was afraid of breaking you. You shivered as his hands slid down your body, trailing down your sides as his body moved lower. His lips kissed down your soft stomach, feeling his breath against your skin as the sensation left goosebumps.

He took his time. Nothing he did was rushed. It was driving you insane. His hands slid over your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin gently before hooking into your underwear. You couldn't help yourself but to look down at him, the softness in his eyes, the wetness of his lips. Your heart nearly stopped at the sight.

“You're beautiful, every scar, every so-called blemish. It makes you more beautiful to me.” He said, kissing your stomach again gently. “Say it. Say that you're beautiful. Let me hear you, sweetie.” He murmured. You blushed, biting your lip. It's not that you didn't believe it, but right here, right now, it felt so much more intense.

“I'm beautiful.” You breathed out, voice shaky. Hearing yourself say the words made a warmth flood through you, blushing as you watched his lips twitch in a soft smile. His hands slowly moved down the fabric of your underwear, his lips sprinkling more kisses over your stomach.

“Yes, yes you are, kitten. You're a very beautiful, very good girl.” He said his lips trailing down your thighs as he continued to remove the last bit of fabric, discarding it onto that pile of clothes. “You are a good girl, aren't you? You've gone so long without as much as even reaching for me. I'm impressed.” He hummed, turning to look back at you again. His head was now between your thighs, hands tracing the softness of your thighs.

You could feel his warm breath against the wetness between your thighs making you shiver. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You tried to pretend that his words wasn't affecting you but you both knew that it was and if anything, he could see the proof in front of him. Your core so wet from tonight's activities that it was almost hard for him to keep himself at bay when you were like this.

His lips were on you again, your thighs soft under his lips as he kissed up one side and then moved to the other. Your legs were tingling with the sensation but even worse you felt yourself clench the closer that he reached your core. This didn't go unnoticed by him.

“I wish you could see yourself, sweetie.” He breathed out, a finger slowly trailing up the wetness of your core. The sound loud in your ears as you gasped, your eyes rolling back at the faint touch. “Twitching, shaking for my touch. I wish I could keep you like this longer,” He said his thumb slowly circling your clit as you arched your body closer. “But I'm getting hungry”

Your breath stopped as his tongue licked a long swipe against your core. You whispered a curse as you felt his hands wrap around your thighs, moving them onto his shoulders. Seconds later, it felt like ever nerve in your body was filled with pleasure. His tongue moved against you, thrusting into you every once in a while. Thick rough fingers taking the place of his tongue after what felt like a century. First two, and then three. You couldn't think, every thought was about how good his mouth felt on you. How big his hands were, how long his fingers were and how he knew exactly where to curl them.

You cried out, body shaking and trembling at the sudden climax that you didn't even have time to process. He pulled back slowly after letting you ride it out, licking you clean and then his fingers clean. You were sweaty, panting as your body layed limp on the bed. Your thighs still on his shoulders as he kissed your thighs making you twitch.

As your mind started to clear you felt your heart skip a beat. You did it. You didn't touch him, reach out to him - you won the bet! Right?

“You taste so good, my little kitten.” He purred, the tone of his voice going straight back to ignite that flame inside you. “I hope you know that I'm not done.”

“I-i won right? The bet? I didn't touch you” You said less confidently than you were hoping. He chucked, looking at you between your thighs.

“We never discussed the finer details. You didn't think that I only planned to go one round did you?” He said as he raised an eyebrow. When you didn't answer he kissed the top of your thigh.

“Wait- that's not fai– Sylus!” His mouth was on you again, that damn tongue, those damn lips. It felt like fire flooded your blood as your head fell back again onto the pillow, your hands clenching against the silk sheets. The fingers were back soon enough. Your eyes crossed as you felt your hips move on their own accord, thrusting against his fingers as the wet sound echoed against the dark room.

“Fuck I can't God i- Sylus” You screamed, and as you did, your hands reached for his hair, pulling his face deeper into you. You heard him growl against your cunt as his tongue worked harder, fingers hitting that spot he knew so well his right until-

Your eyes widened as your body arched off of the bed. A cry of pleasure as you felt your whole body clench, toes curling inward and legs shaking. He didn't stop. Tears built as he continued to lick, his fingers hitting that same damn spot.

“Sylus please it feels too good it's so good it hurts I can't take it anymore.” You gasped as the pleasure built again only moments apart from your last climax. Your heart was pounding, your body shook and twitched as you clenched around his fingers almost wishing it was his cock. You moaned, gasping, the idea almost sending you over the edge.

“You can take it sweetie. You're being so good for me.” He said moving away only long enough to speak before his lips moving back onto you. Your body twitched, the sensation built more than before. Your hand tightened in his hair. Fuck the bet. Who gives a shit when Sylus was between your thighs eating you out like a man starving. You couldn't care less at this point.

It hit like a tidal wave. Your scream muffled by your hand that definitely will have a bite mark on it in the morning. It was so powerful you couldn't even move, your eyes rolled back as you twitched, whimpering nonsense about how good you felt.

Sylus kissed you softly, muttering something that you didn't quite get before leaving. The sound of rushing water from the bathroom reached your ears. Sleep found you quickly even as he picked you up, sitting you on his lap as he bathed you. You only made soft noises as he dried you off and laid you down in bed, resting your head on his chest. His hands combed against your hair, kissing your forehead before he fell asleep himself.

The next morning you stirred awake, groaning at your sore thighs and hand from where you bit, earning yourself a tooth shaped mark on the side of your hand. Sylus was still deep asleep, you weren't sure what happened after the last orgasm, but one thing did ring in your memory. You were pretty sure you lost the bet.

It wasn't fair though, you didn't set the rules first and it wasn't even his bet to begin with! It started with Luke and Kieran. For him to just uno reverse-

The sound of him groaning brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, moving an arm over his eyes. There was no sun in the N109 zone, but the moon could still be really damn bright sometimes. As you shuffled off the bed to go close the curtains, a hand wrapped around your waist pulling you into him.

“And where do you think you're going.” He grumbled, half asleep.

“To close the curtains. I thought the moon was in your eyes.” You said laying back down as he moved his arm off of his face, blinking a few times before rubbing his eyes.

“What's wrong?” He said suddenly looking at you with knitted eyebrows. “I can tell, there's a look in your eye.” He said, gently taking your cheek in his hand, his sleep forgotten all about.

“Nothing it's just the stupid bet. I know technically I lost but I still don't think it's fair-” his chuckle cut you off as he shook his head.

“It was just for fun, though I can admit that you are right. It wasn't even.” He said humming softly. “Get dressed and come to the kitchen. I'll make some breakfast. And maybe we can try again later.” He said, his voice teasing as he slid off of the bed, walking out of the room after kissing you gently.

You blushed, his words processing and sighed. Try again? Later? He was going to be the death of you, you swore it. Your stomach growled, keeping you on track as you stood, grabbing some clothes quickly and ran to the kitchen.

As you rounded the corner, on the counter was something you never expected to see.

The giant Wasabi Octopus plushie you wanted. The one that the bet was about, the one he said he would get you if you won.

“How- when..” you said walking to pull the big red plushie into your arms, in shock but the sparkle in your eye didn't go unnoticed.

“I had planned to give it to you anyways, as a small gift. You were going to get it either way, and besides..” he trailed off stepping closer to you, looking down as you nuzzled into the plushie. “After last night, you earned it.”

[werecreature-addicted]

i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something

but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up

want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard

werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.

he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.

He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.

Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.

To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.

it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.

He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.

at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.

he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.

it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.

he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.

he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.

[fr0stf4ll]

Flavours of Prythian

Coming from that request

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; Y/N, a talented restaurateur’s life is turned upside down when she forms an unexpected bond with Azriel, the mysterious Spymaster of the Night Court. Befriending Elain, who confides in her about a male she’s trying to win over, she eagerly helps her new friend — only to discover the male is none other than Azriel. When the bond between her and Azriel snaps at first touch, she’s torn between loyalty to Elain and the undeniable connection she shares with the shadowy warrior.

word count ; 7.8k

warning; //

notes; Yoo everyone, here is my first one shot ! Thank you again for the request<333 Should I do a more general taglist so that you guys can be permanently on it. Enjoy it, see you <3

---

Prythian was a land of many wonders, from the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains to the lush, rolling hills of the Spring Court. But for you, the true magic of the land was found in its kitchens, markets, and the rich flavors that each court had to offer.

You had always been drawn to the culinary arts, even as a child. Your curiosity led you to travel across the courts, tasting the distinct dishes of each region, learning from the most skilled chefs, and uncovering the hidden culinary gems that most would overlook. You spent years journeying from the Day Court, where spices danced like sunlight on the tongue, to the Winter Court, where hearty stews and warm bread were a staple against the biting cold. In the Night Court, you discovered the delicate balance of flavors that mirrored the starlit skies above, and in the Summer Court, you indulged in the rich, vibrant tastes that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun-drenched beaches.

Your travels weren’t just about satisfying your own cravings; they were a quest to bring the best of Prythian’s diverse cuisines to others. And so, you did the impossible—you opened a series of restaurants, each one in a different court, each one a testament to the culinary traditions you had learned and made your own. Your establishments became a haven for those seeking not only a good meal but an experience, a journey through Prythian’s tastes and textures without ever leaving their seat.

Your flagship restaurant, nestled in the heart of Velaris, was particularly special. It was here, in the City of Starlight, that you combined the flavors of all the courts into a menu that was as varied and enchanting as Prythian itself. Word quickly spread of the remarkable dishes served within, and soon, it wasn’t just the citizens of Velaris who came to dine—High Fae from every court sought out your creations.

One such evening, as you oversaw the final preparations for the dinner service, the door to your restaurant swung open, and in walked a familiar face—Elain Archeron. Elain had been wandering through Velaris, taking in the beauty of the city, when the warm, inviting aroma from your restaurant had drawn her in.

Elain was known for her gentle nature, her love of gardening, and her keen eye for beauty in all things. But tonight, she was here for something different—a new experience, a chance to explore another form of beauty through the culinary delights that had been whispered about throughout the city.

As Elain took her seat near a window overlooking the Sidra, she immediately felt at ease. There was a sense of comfort and warmth in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself walking over to greet her. She looked up with a warm smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and a touch of shyness.

“Welcome,” you said, your own smile reflecting her warmth. “I’m Y/N, the owner and chef here. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Elain’s smile widened, and she nodded appreciatively. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I just had to come see for myself. The aromas alone are worth the visit.”

You chuckled, feeling an instant connection with her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure the food lives up to the expectations.”

As the evening went on, you found yourself returning to Elain’s table more than once, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. You talked about your travels, the different courts you had visited, and the inspiration behind some of the dishes on the menu. Elain, in turn, shared stories of her own—of her love for gardening, the peace she found in the quiet moments spent among the flowers, and her growing appreciation for the little joys in life, like a perfectly prepared meal.

There was something comforting in the way you both connected, as if you had known each other for much longer than just one evening. By the time dessert arrived—a delicate pastry inspired by the flavors of the Summer Court—you and Elain were chatting like old friends, the conversation punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional appreciative hum as she tasted each new dish.

As the night drew to a close, Elain hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’d love to come back,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, genuinely pleased by the idea. “I’d like that. You’re welcome anytime, Elain.”

Elain quickly became a regular fixture at your restaurant, her visits growing more frequent as the two of you bonded over shared stories, laughter, and the occasional glass of wine. It wasn’t long before your casual conversations began to take on a more personal tone, with Elain confiding in you about her life, her hopes, and her dreams.

One evening, after the dinner rush had died down and the restaurant had settled into a peaceful hum, Elain arrived with a particular glint in her eye. You noticed it the moment she walked in, her steps lighter, her smile brighter. She took her usual seat by the window, and you didn’t waste any time joining her, a knowing smile on your face.

“Alright, Elain,” you said, sitting down across from her. “You’re glowing tonight. What’s going on?”

Elain blushed, her hands fluttering nervously in her lap. “It’s nothing, really… Well, maybe it’s something. I don’t know.”

You leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. Spill!”

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in. “There’s… this male,” she began, her voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now, and I think… I think it might actually be working.”

You couldn’t help but squeal in delight, clapping your hands together. “Elain! This is amazing! Tell me everything—who is he? How did it start? What’s he like?”

Elain giggled at your enthusiasm, her own excitement bubbling to the surface as she began to share the details. “He’s… well, he’s different. Reserved, I guess you could say. But there’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s kind, in his own way, and he has this quiet strength that I really admire.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word as she described this mysterious male who had captured her attention. It was clear that she was smitten, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for her.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, your mind already racing with ideas. “How are you going to win him over?”

Elain smiled shyly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, I thought… maybe I could start by cooking for him. You know, something simple but special. He loves good food, and I think it might help him see… well, see me.”

You practically jumped out of your seat with excitement. “Elain, that’s perfect! And you’re in the right place—I can help you with recipes, tips, anything you need. We’ll make sure this meal is unforgettable.”

Her eyes lit up with gratitude. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course!” you replied, beaming. “This is what friends are for. And besides, I love a good love story. We’ll make sure he can’t resist you after this.”

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. Elain would visit the restaurant every few days, sometimes to try out a new dish, other times just to chat and share the latest developments in her budding romance. The more she talked about this male, the more you could see how deeply she cared for him, and it made you all the more determined to help her succeed.

You spent hours in the kitchen together, experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, crafting meals that were not only delicious but also filled with meaning. Elain would watch you work, her eyes wide with admiration as you explained the significance of each spice, each flavor, and how it could be used to convey emotion.

“There’s a language in food,” you told her one afternoon as you kneaded dough for a loaf of bread. “Every dish tells a story. When you cook for someone, you’re sharing a part of yourself with them. It’s intimate, in a way.”

Elain nodded thoughtfully, her hands busy chopping herbs for the soup you were preparing. “I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. I want him to know how I feel, even if I can’t always find the words.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your friend. “Then we’ll make sure every bite he takes is filled with love.”

As the days turned into weeks, Elain’s visits became a highlight of your day. She would burst through the door, her eyes sparkling as she recounted her latest interactions with the male who had stolen her heart. You would listen with rapt attention, offering advice and encouragement, celebrating every small victory and reassuring her during moments of doubt.

“He loved the soup,” she told you one evening, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “He said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And I think… I think he’s starting to notice me.”

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “I told you, Elain. No one can resist good food, especially when it’s made with love.”

She laughed, her joy infectious. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me so much.”

You waved off her gratitude with a smile. “Nonsense. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

But the truth was, you had come to care deeply for Elain and her happiness. It wasn’t just about the food anymore—it was about seeing your friend find the love and connection she so deserved. And as she continued to come back, sharing her hopes and dreams, you couldn’t help but feel that you had found something special too.

Your friendship with Elain had become a source of joy and fulfillment, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections were forged in the simplest of moments—over a shared meal, a quiet conversation, or a burst of laughter that echoed through the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the nights grew longer, you continued to help Elain in her quest to win over this mysterious male, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had found a true friend in her. A friend who had come into your life unexpectedly, but who had quickly become an irreplaceable part of it.

Weeks had passed since you and Elain had first started crafting meals together, each one a carefully planned step in her quest to win over the male who had captivated her heart. Every visit, every dish, brought a new story, a new glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were genuinely happy for her, thrilled to see her so full of life and excitement. So, when she asked if she could bring him to your restaurant for dinner, you couldn’t have been more supportive.

“Of course, Elain!” you’d said, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect. It’ll be a night he won’t forget.”

You’d spent the entire day preparing, selecting only the finest ingredients and crafting a menu that would showcase the very best of what your restaurant had to offer. You wanted this night to be special for her—special for them. You had no idea how special it would become, for reasons you never could have imagined.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city of Velaris in a warm, golden glow, Elain arrived at the restaurant with a male by her side. You couldn’t quite make out his features at first, but the way she clung to his arm, her eyes bright with anticipation, told you all you needed to know. This was the one.

As they stepped into the softly lit dining room, you finally got a good look at him—Azriel, the shadowsinger of the Night Court. You had heard of him, of course, through whispers and stories, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment your eyes met his.

Elain beamed as she introduced the two of you, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “Azriel, this is Y/N, the wonderful chef I’ve been telling you about. And Y/N, this is Azriel.”

He extended his hand to you, his expression polite, reserved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You reached out, intending to greet him with the same friendly courtesy you offered all your patrons. But the moment your hand touched his, something shifted in the air—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and energy that took your breath away. The bond snapped into place with such force that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

For a split second, the world around you faded, and all you could feel was the pull, the undeniable connection that tethered your soul to his. His eyes widened in shock, and you knew he felt it too—the bond, the realization that fate had just entwined your lives in a way neither of you had expected.

But as quickly as the bond formed, reality came crashing back down. Elain was standing there, her eyes full of hope, completely unaware of the storm that had just erupted inside you. She had no idea that the male she was so clearly infatuated with, the one she had been working so hard to win over, was now bound to you in a way that went beyond anything you could have ever imagined.

Panic surged through you. How could this happen? How could you possibly accept this bond when it would mean shattering the friendship you had built with Elain, when it would mean taking away the one thing she wanted so desperately?

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

With a forced smile, you quickly withdrew your hand from Azriel’s grasp, the warmth of the bond lingering like a phantom touch. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you managed to say, though your voice sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you, confusion and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself look too long, couldn’t let yourself feel what was brewing inside you. Not when Elain was standing right there, her happiness hanging in the balance.

“Please, take a seat,” you said, stepping back and motioning toward the table you had specially prepared for them. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Elain smiled, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, and took her seat. Azriel hesitated for just a moment before following suit, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes again. You couldn’t.

As the evening went on, you did your best to stay professional, to act as if nothing had changed. You brought out dish after dish, each one more exquisite than the last, all while ignoring the fire burning in your chest. Every time Azriel tried to catch your eye, every time he tried to speak to you, you found a reason to turn away, to focus on something—anything—else.

Elain chattered on, completely unaware of the tension building between you and Azriel. She complimented the food, praised your skills, and even mentioned how much Azriel seemed to be enjoying himself. And through it all, you kept up the facade, kept pretending as if the bond snapping into place hadn't turned your entire world upside down.

But it was getting harder. With every glance Azriel sent your way, with every quiet question he tried to ask you in passing, it felt like the invisible thread between you was pulling tighter, demanding to be acknowledged. Yet, you refused to give in.

As the night dragged on, the tension between you and Azriel grew unbearable. He could sense it—you knew he could—but Elain remained blissfully unaware, happily recounting the gossip from the latest happenings in Velaris, smiling every time she caught Azriel glancing her way.

Azriel's eyes kept drifting back to you. Not once, not twice, but every time you approached the table, as if he couldn’t stop himself. You could feel the weight of his gaze burning into you, the way his expression darkened each time you brushed past him without so much as a word. He knew you were avoiding him, and he didn’t like it.

When you brought out the final dish—an indulgent dessert meant to close the evening on a sweet note—Elain excused herself to step outside for a moment, leaving you alone with Azriel for the first time since the bond snapped.

You could feel his presence before you even turned around, the quiet intensity of his gaze. And as you set the plate down in front of him, you knew you couldn’t avoid this confrontation any longer.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur, but the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

Azriel leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t lie to me. You felt it too.”

The bond. He didn’t have to say the word for you to know what he meant. It was a truth that hung in the air between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. And yet, you had to. You had to protect Elain, to protect your friendship, no matter the cost.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart aching with the effort it took to deny the pull you felt toward him.

Azriel’s expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t shut me out.”

But you couldn’t let him in. If you let him in, if you allowed yourself to even consider what the bond meant, you would be betraying Elain in the worst way possible. How could you even think about being with him when she had spent weeks confiding in you, trusting you with her feelings for him?

“No, Azriel.” You stepped back, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Why? Because of Elain?”

You winced at the mention of her name, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your chest. “She cares about you. A lot.”

Azriel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like that between Elain and me.”

But you shook your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my friend. I can’t—I won’t—do this to her.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

Elain re-entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face as she made her way back to the table. “Sorry about that,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Azriel. “What did I miss?”

You forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging inside you. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “Just making sure everything’s perfect.”

Elain beamed, clearly pleased with how the evening had gone. “It really has been perfect, Y/N. Thank you so much for everything.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally looked away, the tension in his jaw clear as he nodded in agreement. “Yes… thank you.”

You nodded once, offering them both a stiff smile before excusing yourself from the room, your chest tightening with every step you took away from them.

As you retreated to the quiet of the kitchen, your hands bracing against the counter, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The bond had snapped. Azriel was your mate. And yet, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.

You had promised yourself you’d never hurt Elain. And if shutting down every advance Azriel made, if pushing away the one person the Cauldron had chosen for you was the only way to keep that promise, then that’s exactly what you would do.

Even if it tore you apart.

Back in the kitchen, you leaned heavily against the counter, your hands gripping the cold marble surface as you tried to regain your composure. The bond had snapped, and with it, any sense of stability you had managed to hold onto throughout the evening. The world felt off-kilter, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink.

One of your sous chefs, a sharp-eyed female who had worked with you since the restaurant’s inception, noticed your pallor. She set down the pan she was holding and approached you, concern evident in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she began cautiously, her voice gentle but probing, “are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a nod, though you knew your expression wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice was shaky and unsteady.

She frowned, clearly not buying your response. Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the unusual paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. “You don’t look fine. Do you need to sit down? Maybe get some air?”

You shook your head, trying to brush off her concern, but the weight of the bond pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “No, I’ll be okay. It’s just… been a long night.”

She hesitated, still studying you closely, before glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But, Y/N,” she continued, her tone turning more inquisitive, “it’s strange. You always insist on preparing Miss Elain’s meals yourself, especially when she’s bringing a guest. But tonight, you didn’t even touch the preparation. You left it all to us.”

You froze at her words, the reality of what had happened sinking in even deeper. She was right—normally, you would have insisted on handling every detail of Elain’s meal, wanting to ensure that everything was perfect for your friend. But tonight, when it mattered most, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it.

The truth was, the moment you realized Elain was bringing someone special, you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the ingredients. You had let the staff handle everything because deep down, some part of you knew something was about to change—something you weren’t ready to face.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to find some semblance of an explanation. “I just thought… maybe it was time to let you all handle it. You’re more than capable.”

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as she searched your eyes. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time, even though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. I trust all of you with the kitchen. You don’t need me hovering over every detail.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile. “Well, if you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to step out. We’ve got things under control here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I appreciate it.”

With a final nod, she returned to her station, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the crushing weight of the bond you were trying so desperately to ignore.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Azriel’s eyes, the way they had widened in shock and recognition when the bond snapped into place. You couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand in yours, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to just the two of you in that fleeting, life-altering moment.

But Elain… you couldn’t do this to Elain. You couldn’t shatter her hopes, her dreams, just because of a bond you had never asked for. So, you did the only thing you could—you steeled yourself, pushed down the emotions threatening to break free, and vowed to keep your distance from Azriel, no matter how much it hurt.

You would be there for Elain, just as you always had been. You would help her win over the male she had been trying so hard to impress, even if it meant denying your own heart in the process.

Because that’s what friends did. They put each other first, no matter the cost.

And as you stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking utensils, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would protect Elain’s happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

—

Azriel sat in the sitting room of the townhouse, surrounded by the familiar faces of the inner circle, yet he felt completely out of place. The evening had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, leaving him reeling from the bond that had snapped so suddenly and without warning. He had come here to find solace, to clear his mind, but every thought seemed to spiral back to you—the way you had looked at him, the way you had recoiled after the bond had formed during dinner at your restaurant.

He couldn’t understand it. How could something so significant be brushed aside so easily? He had tried to reach out to you, to understand what was happening, but you had shut him down, leaving him to grapple with the weight of the bond on his own.

The others were chatting around him, the sound of their laughter and conversation filling the room, but it all felt distant, muffled. Azriel’s mind was too clouded to focus on anything they were saying. He was trapped in a loop, replaying the moment over and over in his head—the spark, the connection, the way your eyes had widened in recognition before you quickly masked it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost missed it when Rhysand mentioned your name.

“You know, Y/N’s restaurant is one of the best in Velaris,” Rhys was saying, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Feyre and I went there a few nights ago, and it was nothing short of incredible.”

Feyre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up at the memory. “The food was amazing. Every dish was like a work of art. She really has a talent, doesn’t she?”

Mor, who was lounging on one of the couches, joined in with a grin. “That’s not even the half of it. Y/N’s got restaurants all over Prythian—one in each court, if you can believe it. She’s become a bit of a legend in the culinary world.”

Azriel’s heart sank further as they continued to praise you, each word driving the knife deeper into his chest. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them—he knew you were remarkable, talented, someone to be admired. But right now, every mention of your name was like salt in a wound that was already festering.

Cassian, who had been listening with a smirk on his face, finally spoke up, his tone playful. “Sounds like Az here missed out on one hell of a meal tonight. Maybe he’ll have to go back and get a taste of what everyone’s raving about.”

Azriel tensed, the comment hitting far too close to home. He knew Cassian was just joking, but the implication—the reminder of what had happened tonight—was too much to bear. Without a word, he pushed himself up from his chair, his movements abrupt enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Az?” Feyre called out, concern lacing her voice as she watched him head for the door. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he muttered something about needing some air and quickly left the room, the weight of their gazes heavy on his back as he made his escape.

As the door closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Everyone exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Azriel’s sudden departure.

“What’s gotten into him?” Rhysand wondered aloud, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Cassian, never one to let an opportunity for humor pass by, snorted and shook his head. “Probably just realized he’s been a brooding mess all night and couldn’t handle the idea of someone actually having a good time.”

Mor chuckled, though there was a trace of worry in her eyes. “Or maybe he just can’t handle the fact that Y/N’s cooking is so damn good, it knocked him off his game.”

Rhysand sighed, glancing toward the door Azriel had just walked through. “He’s been off since he got back tonight. Maybe something happened.”

Feyre bit her lip, her expression softening. “I hope he’s alright. He seemed… different.”

Cassian, ever the optimist, leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin. “He’ll be fine. Az is tougher than all of us combined. He just needs some time to brood in his room, and he’ll be back to his grumpy self in no time.”

The group shared a few more laughs at Azriel’s expense, but the concern in their eyes never fully faded. They all knew Azriel well enough to understand that when he withdrew like this, it meant something was seriously bothering him.

Azriel’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the thoughts swirling in his mind. As soon as he entered, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noise, the chaos of emotions inside him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of your hand in his, the way the bond had snapped into place like it had always been there, waiting. The connection was undeniable, and yet… you had denied it. Denied him.

Why? The question gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He had seen the recognition in your eyes, the brief moment when you had felt it too. But then, you had shut down, shut him out as if the bond meant nothing.

It was more than just confusing—it was painful. Azriel had spent centuries in the shadows, watching from the sidelines as his friends found their mates, found love. He had accepted his place, accepted that perhaps it wasn’t meant for him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed. You had changed it.

And now… now he was left in this strange limbo, caught between the undeniable pull of the bond and the walls you had erected between you.

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to storm back to your restaurant, to demand answers, to make you acknowledge what had happened. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t force you to accept the bond, couldn’t force you to feel something you clearly weren’t ready to face.

With a frustrated sigh, Azriel pushed off the door and crossed the room, heading to the window that overlooked Velaris. The city was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, but his mind was anything but. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes scanning the distant lights of the city below.

“Why?” he whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with a desperation he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Why won’t you let me in?”

But the night offered no answers, only the quiet whisper of the wind as it brushed against the windowpane.

—

The next day passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, letting the familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring, and plating distract you from the turmoil brewing inside. The restaurant had been busy, as always, with customers filling every table, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dining room. But despite the bustle, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest—the bond that you were trying so desperately to ignore.

When the last customer had left, you sent your staff home, insisting that you would handle the closing on your own. You needed the time alone, needed to clear your head without the distraction of others around. As the front door clicked shut behind the last of your employees, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft sound of the knife in your hand as you prepped ingredients for the next day. The rhythmic motion of slicing through vegetables was soothing, almost meditative. But as you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the tension still coiled tight in your chest.

You were focused on the task at hand, chopping carrots with practiced precision, when a voice cut through the silence, making you freeze in place.

“I bet you could be good with a sword with how you work that knife,” came the familiar, deep voice, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be those carrots.”

Your hand stilled mid-slice, the knife hovering just above the cutting board. You knew that voice all too well—Azriel.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his expression guarded but his eyes full of determination. He had changed out of his usual leathers, dressed instead in a simple tunic and trousers, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension from the previous night hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel the bond thrumming faintly between you, a constant reminder of the connection you were trying so hard to deny.

But you knew why he was here. You had been avoiding him all day, refusing to even think about the conversation you knew was coming. But now, with the restaurant empty and the two of you alone, there was no escaping it.

You set the knife down on the counter, wiping your hands on a nearby towel as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm as you faced Azriel. The tension in the room was almost palpable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. You had been dreading this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said, your voice firm, though you could hear the tremor in it. “We can’t do this, Azriel.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Why not? Y/N, you felt it too. The bond—it snapped into place. We can’t just ignore that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the look on his face. “I’m not ignoring it. But I can’t—I won’t act on it. Not when Elain… Not when she’s been trying so hard to win you over.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer to you, his expression softening as he reached out. “Y/N, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Elain wasn’t trying to win me over… not in the way you think.”

You hesitated, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean? She’s been telling me everything, Azriel. How she’s been trying to get your attention, how much she cares about you… I can’t do that to her. I won’t be the one to hurt her like that.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated but determined to set things right. “Y/N, you don’t have the full story. Elain… she’s not interested in me like that. She’s been trying to make Lucien jealous.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Lucien? But… he’s her mate. Why would she do that?”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Yes, he’s her mate. But they’ve been going through a rough patch lately. Lucien’s duties as emissary for the Night Court have kept him away, and Elain’s been feeling… neglected. She thought that by spending time with me, by pretending there was something more between us, she could get a reaction out of him. It was never about me, Y/N. It was always about Lucien.”

You felt your heart drop as the realization hit you. “So, you were just helping her as a friend?”

Azriel nodded again, his gaze steady as he took a step closer to you. “Exactly. I was only doing this to help her. I never had feelings for her in that way, and she knows that. We were just… playing a part to get Lucien’s attention.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. “She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Azriel said gently. “Or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But I promise you, Y/N, there’s nothing between Elain and me. There never was. She’s still trying to figure things out with Lucien, and I was just trying to help her.”

You looked away, your mind racing to process everything Azriel was telling you. You had been so sure, so convinced that you were protecting Elain by shutting Azriel out. But now, with this new information, everything felt uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath your feet.

“Azriel, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. You had built up walls around your heart, walls meant to protect both you and Elain from the pain of betrayal. But now those walls were crumbling, leaving you vulnerable and confused.

Azriel took another step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this—really talk. Give me a chance to show you that this bond isn’t something to be feared. It’s something that could be… everything.”

You stood there, trying to process everything Azriel had just told you. The confusion, the guilt, the realization that you had misunderstood everything—it all came crashing down at once. You looked away from Azriel, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to make sense of it all.

“Okay,” you finally muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Now I actually feel like a dumbass.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you cringed internally. But when you glanced back up at Azriel, you found him staring at you with wide eyes for a moment—before a warm, rich laugh escaped him. It was a sound you hadn’t expected, a sound that cut through the tension and made your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

Azriel shook his head, still chuckling softly. “You’re not a dumbass, Y/N. Just… someone who cares a lot about her friend.”

You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing slightly as the weight of the misunderstanding began to lift. But even with the air between you lightened, you couldn’t shake the lingering worry, the uncertainty of what this all meant.

“I just… I don’t know you that well,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. “And this bond… it’s a lot to take in. I was so worried about Elain’s feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt. About how to navigate this.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, and he took a careful step closer, making sure not to crowd you. “I understand. The bond is… overwhelming, especially when it comes out of nowhere. And I know we don’t know each other well yet, but that’s something we can work on. We don’t have to rush into anything, Y/N. We can take this one step at a time, if that’s what you need.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since the bond had snapped. There was no pressure in his eyes, no demand—just a quiet patience that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else, something warmer.

“But… what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice small, the fear you had been trying to suppress finally finding its way out. “What if I can’t be what you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened even more, and he shook his head gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be anything but yourself. The bond doesn’t demand perfection—it’s just a connection, a starting point. We figure the rest out together.”

You swallowed, feeling the sincerity in his words. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered now by something else—a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but Azriel caught it nonetheless.

He smiled softly, his wings shifting slightly as if in relief. “Okay,” he echoed. “One step at a time.”

For a moment, you both stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the bond humming faintly between you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was something. And for the first time since the bond had snapped, you felt like maybe you could handle this—together.

Azriel extended his hand, not as a demand, but as an offer. “How about we start with something simple? A walk, maybe? Just to talk, get to know each other.”

You hesitated for a moment, the anxiety still lingering, but then you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. His grip was warm, reassuring, and as his fingers closed around yours, you felt a little of that fear ease away.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “A walk sounds good.”

And as you both stepped out of the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something worth taking a chance on.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 9 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.

It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.

Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.

He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.

Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.

Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.

Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.

It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.

You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.

You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.

His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.

It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.

And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.

It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.

Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.

Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.

Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.

A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.

Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.

Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.

"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.

Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.

"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.

"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.

"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"

You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.

"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"

"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.

"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.

"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.

Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.

It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.

You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.

"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.

"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."

He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."

"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.

"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."

"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."

"Why?"

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."

"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.

"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."

"That's not all that matter-"

"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.

"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.

"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.

Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."

You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.

"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"

"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.

"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.

"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.

"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."

"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.

"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.

You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."

Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.

A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.

You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.

Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.

It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.

The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.

You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.

Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.

For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.

You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"

When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."

She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.

The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.

"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.

"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.

"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.

Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."

"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.

"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.

"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.

"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.

"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.

Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."

"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.

"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."

"How the fuck would you know?"

"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."

"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."

Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.

"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.

"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.

You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.

"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.

"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."

"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.

It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.

"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.

You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.

He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.

"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"

A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.

You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.

---

Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.

She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"

You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.

"What the hell happened between you guys?"

"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.

"That much is obvious."

"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."

Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.

"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.

"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."

"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"

"I don't know," you mumbled.

"What type of argument could have caused that?"

You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."

"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.

"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.

"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.

All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."

"How come you don't talk to him?"

"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."

"So that's why-"

"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.

"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.

"Of course, he just isn't my life."

"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.

"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."

"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"

"I could have been first-"

"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."

"Mei-"

"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."

"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.

"It was majority him," she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"

"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"

"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.

"Your not even trying-"

"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."

"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.

"Leaving," you said firmly.

"You don't have a car-"

"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.

You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.

The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up

"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.

"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.

"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"

"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."

"Why?"

"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."

"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.

You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.

"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."

Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.

"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."

"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."

You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.

"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."

"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.

"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."

"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.

"What?!"

"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.

You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.

While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.

With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.

You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.

The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.

"I was sleeping," he answered.

"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"

You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.

"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.

"No shit," you answered plainly.

"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.

"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.

"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.

You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.

"You're sleeping down here?"

"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.

"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.

"What?"

"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."

"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.

"What happened to us?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.

"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."

"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.

"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."

"You changed yours."

"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.

"For two months?"

"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."

"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"

"You could have done the same."

"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."

He choked, "You're done?"

"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."

Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.

"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.

"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."

"Good."

He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."

You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.

"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."

"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."

He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."

"Doesn't excuse it."

"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.

You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.

"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.

"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.

Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.

You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.

"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.

You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"

"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.

You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.

"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.

He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."

"What did?"

"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.

"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.

"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."

-Next Part-

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[delirious-donna]

The Surprise [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: it’s 2am and here I am posting this smut-filled fic because I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about this man. p.s. requests are open for Higuruma specifically so drop me an ask if you wanna give me some ideas for everyone’s favourite lawyer!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: lingerie, pussy drunk Hiromi (it’s canon don’t fight me), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it folks) and other goodies

Masterlist

“Will that be everything for you today?” The cheery assistant asked offering a genuine smile whilst they rang through your purchases and packed them carefully into a neat little box.

Your stomach fluttered with the thought of what might transpire this coming weekend, a long-planned weekend that couldn’t arrive quick enough. The delicate tissue paper wrapped around the items inside the box before the assistant closed it over, tied a ribbon securely and placed it in a paper bag.

“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it!”

With a bounce in your step and a sizeable dent in your bank balance, you exited the boutique store to daydream about your husband’s reaction to your little splurge. Neither of you were accustomed to dropping large sums of money so randomly, both believing that an air of caution and frugality would see you through any potential storms on the horizon, but you had walked past this store so many times and finally been tempted into their den of sinful delights.

Inclusive-sized mannequins displayed a range of differently styled lingerie, from demure bridal wear to raunchy strips of leather and wide mesh that would leave very little to the imagination. At first, you were convinced it would only be window shopping, however, when you spied an elegant-looking black bodysuit that seemed like it would hold all your bits in without compromising the sex appeal element, it was game over.

Once you were interested, the friendly young assistant swooped in and soon you were trying it on in the fancy dressing room. The lighting was complimenting rather than garishly fluorescent, and the lull of soft, sensual music added to the overall experience, one you were rather enjoying. The strapless bodysuit hugged your curves and accentuated your décolletage nicely. Clearly, it was designed by scientists to support your breasts without cumbersome straps, and you silently praised their ingenuity. Paired with crotchless fishnet tights that you could secure beneath the suit—a suggestion from your enthusiastic little helper—you knew that Hiromi would likely lose his mind and you couldn’t wait.

Your poor, overworked and perpetually exhausted husband had been burning the candle at both ends for the past nearly four months, neck deep in a case that if he were to win would be a monumental victory in his career. In support, you packed him off every morning with a full lunch consisting of his favourite foods, mostly to encourage him to actually eat instead of consuming mug after mug of rancid instant coffee. In your evenings, you helped him go over witness testimonies, read over his arguments for clarity, and did everything you could to lighten his load around the house. It wouldn’t be a permanent arrangement, you both knew that, and to say he appreciated your support was an understatement.

That’s why when he told you that it was all drawing to a conclusion and that he was cautiously optimistic it would end in his favour, you revelled in that knowledge. Whether it did come to fruition or not, his weekend would be free, and he promised to spend some real quality time with you without the cloud of looming work. There was nothing more he could do, no more past cases he could study and the thought of basking in his undivided attention warmed your heart and soul.

With two days remaining before your scheduled weekend plans to do absolutely nothing but relax and unwind in each other’s presence, you again peeked at the box you’d tucked into your side of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes. Maybe it was a bout of nerves, a moment of body consciousness, that made you pull your surprise out to examine the contents. Whatever it was, you worried your bottom lip once the intimate outfit was laid out on the bedspread.

“What was I thinking… this is too much,” you quietly scolded yourself.

Flopping beside the expensive scraps of fabric, you brushed a palm down your face and reminded yourself that you looked fucking divine in the changing room of the boutique, so why would it be any different now? More so, you knew deep in your heart that Hiromi adored you and thought you were a goddess, one he claimed he didn’t deserve.

A few moments later, you stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe to scrutinise your reflection. Your eyes narrowed as you tugged the sweetheart cups into place and felt the soft squish of your breast jiggle inside. Turning to the side, a hand ran the length of your torso with a grin unfurling at the tight hug of the sheer-panelled fabric. Damn, your backside looked real good from this angle. But maybe the fishnets were too much, you mused, turning this way and that.

You ran your fingers through your hair, wondering if you should try to style it, maybe give it some more volume and texture. It was at that moment, whilst making kissy faces at your reflection with your hands scrunching handfuls of your hair and up on your tippy toes to extend the length of your legs, that the bedroom door opened, and you froze like a deer in headlights.

~

Higuruma Hiromi was on cloud nine. Not only had he won a career-defining case against all the odds, but the judge had also taken less time to deliberate than anyone expected they would. After a hearty swig of celebratory champagne drank from crappy paper cups with his partner and their secretaries, he was on the first train home to truly celebrate with the only person that mattered—you.

What he didn’t expect to find when he entered the house as stealthily as he could manage was the vision of you standing in the middle of the bedroom looking like one of the pin-up models from the magazines he would hide under his mattress as a young man.

Like a slightly tipsy house cat, he tiptoed his way through the rooms, listening for signs of you and driving straight towards the bedroom to surprise you with his unannounced return. The door bounced open on its hinges and he stood, shell-shocked for a moment before it turned to white-hot appreciation.

You looked beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even. There weren’t enough colourful adjectives for how he felt about you at any given time, but right now, modelling a black bodysuit that hugged both your butt and your breasts, he was entirely dumbstruck. Hiromi didn’t know where to look, or whether you’d rather he look away given your strangled yelp of surprise at his sudden appearance. You made no effort to cover yourself or shove him out the door, no, you both faced one another as if neither of you knew what to do or say.

His eyes continued to betray him, slowly caressing the length of your figure and finding new things to appreciate; the sweetheart cups, the gauzy panels that allowed him glimpses of your skin beneath, and not to mention the fishnet tights. He hadn’t seen you wear anything like those since your dating years, and he had forgotten how much he missed them, or how many he had ruined by ripping through the gusset in his haste.

“What are you doing home?” You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and back to your husband, heat filling your face but something else followed on the tails of your embarrassment, something more pleasant.

Hiromi ran this thumb over his mouth, gaze pointedly fixed on your chest, and you cleared your throat with emphasis until he finally met your eye and the arch of your eyebrow. Already his neck looked red, like a rash had spread from below the collar of his shirt and travelled towards his jaw. If you could describe a person as having hearts for eyes, it would be one Higuruma Hiromi and you adored him for his open adoration.

“We… I won,” he managed weakly, smiling as if coming out of a daze and you blinked for a moment while processing the words.

“You won?”

He chuckled. “I won.”

A wealth of emotions passed over your face until you ended with ecstatic pride, tears near pricking your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms and peppered his cheeks and nose with enough kisses to make him blush more furiously. His hands settled on your hips, his touch more hesitant than you would expect given the circumstances and you pulled back to give him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

“Darling…” he started, skimming his fingertips up and down your sides before rounding to your full backside and squeezing as he spoke. “What’s this?”

In your joy, you had forgotten that Hiromi had walked in on you wearing the lingerie that was meant to be for this weekend and meant to be a surprise. You guessed it still had been, although not the one you planned. “Oh, just a little something to show my hardworking man that I love and adore him. Nothing much.”

“Nothing much…” he repeated in a disbelieving whisper. A finger ran the length of your spine, from the top of your backside to near the base of your skull, dragging it slowly and watching you shudder beneath his deliberate touch. Your shoulder blades shifted, pushing your chest out further and into his, which earned you a groan of appreciation.

“I wouldn’t call this nothing much. You look like a wet dream come to life.”

He walked you backwards, the scent of champagne hot on his breath and your stomach curled into a mass of twisted anticipation—heavy in the depths of your belly. Your thighs crashed into the edge of the bed and Hiromi used your moment of imbalance to shove you atop, quickly shucking out of his jacket and crawling over you.

“Hiromi,” you squeaked between peals of laughter. The man in question only hummed in response, his hooded eyes heavy with nothing that spoke of fatigue. The whisky colour of his eyes appeared blown almost completely black by the dilation of his pupils, and he licked over his lips in what looked like anticipation of a hearty meal.

That meal was you…

Any protest you might have offered died in your throat when he claimed your mouth like a man possessed. His tongue curled over your teeth, pushing the memory of champagne into the space he dominated and greedily swallowing your answering moan. His forearms bracketed your head, keeping you caged and unable to run from him, not that you had any desire to, not when you could feel the press of his cock thickening against your lower half.

Loosening the knot of his tie with one finger, you took the moment to grab fistfuls of the shirt at his back, tugging the tails out of his trousers and sliding your palms beneath the starched surface to scratch along his spine. Hiromi shuddered, the disconnect of your lips an audible pop that left a web of saliva between you, only breaking with a quick swipe of your pink tongue.

“I don’t even have my make-up or hair done, you beast!” The half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears, or so you thought when his mouth moved to your neck and down to your collarbone, sucking little blooming lovebites on his journey. When he reached the abundant swell of your breasts, he glanced up whilst his tongue pathed across the top of your left breast, dipping into the valley between and then resuming the path over the right.

“You think I need face paint or styled hair to love you more? Fuck, sweetheart… I nearly came in my briefs the minute I opened the door.” The length of his aquiline nose nudged between your breasts, nuzzling the soft mounds like a cat warming by the fire. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wriggled beneath him and let out a breathy sigh, the weight and conviction of his love settling over you in perfect comfort. There would be no more argument from you, and Hiromi won for the second time that day.

With methodical slowness he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lave the sheer panels at either side of your abdomen and forcing you to arch from the warm sensation of his eager tongue. You’d barely managed to get his shirt off his shoulders before he was exploring you like this was his first time with your body. The white button-up hung down his back, sleeves caught by his elbows, and he made no move to strip it off much to your annoyance.

He stopped abruptly when he reached your pelvic mound, chin resting there whilst his fingers trailed the arch of your foot, up the inside of your calf and tickled behind your knee. “Stop that, mister!” You scolded with laughter threatening to bubble out.

“Spread ‘em and I will,” he challenged with a smirk.

The space between your freshly parted thighs became his home, an arm wound around your hip pawing at the fat of your thigh and the line where it met your arse, eliciting shivers that rippled over your skin like a calm lake disturbed by a skimming stone. He fingered the two snaps that kept the bodysuit in place, stroking firmly over your clothed cunt and pushing the barrier deeper until it started to feel sticky from your arousal. Looking all too smug, he freed the snaps with a grunt of satisfaction, sure that his next step would be to rip through the gusset of your raunchy fishnets so he could taste you. That moment never came.

You felt the vibration shudder through your husband, his head falling forward to obscure what you could see of his face, and you rocked your hips back and forth in invitation. The cool air of the room contrasted by the hot fan of his breath on your slit made you clench around a disappointing nothing, frowning at his sudden pause.

For a long moment, there was only silence. When he looked up, his expression nearly stole your breath. Thick black eyebrows pinched together, visible strain around his drooped eyes and a throaty whine made your pussy flutter with need. This was the Hiromi that only came out to play every now and again. The one who would wring you like a wet dish towel for just one more orgasm, one more mouthful of your hot nectar.

“Crotchless, really?” he murmured, dragging a finger across your puffy folds where the thin membrane of the tights should have resided and you nearly jolted upwards to the ceiling, having forgotten that little fact in the heat of the moment.

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you gave a cheeky wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about all the pairs of tights you’ve ruined over the years. These were just a… precaution.” Hiromi groaned, thrusting his face into your pussy without warning. The flat of his tongue ran the length of you, making you perfectly slippery in mere seconds, only for the tip of the wet muscle to fuck into your entrance immediately.

“Oh, fuck… Hiro!”

You yanked great tufts of his hair to no avail; he was lost to eating you out like a man starved. The prominent slope of his nose slid back and forth across your bundle of nerves, and it lit up your insides like the continuous explosion of miniature firecrackers.

Whining from his sudden onslaught, you tried to run by easing up the bed, but your attempts were shot down in flames by sharp insistent tugs of your hips. Hiromi was enthusiastic at the best of times when it came to going down on you, but it was nothing compared to right now. The wet squelching sucks of his lips and tongue flooded the bedroom, only being accompanied by your decadent moans and panting breaths as you tried not to lose your sanity entirely.

Hiromi was lost in you; the scent of your favourite body wash, the taste of your arousal when it trickled from your core mixed with the slight salt of your skin, the plush silk of your thighs beneath his prodding fingertips and the unrestrained noises that caressed his ears.

He almost missed your orgasm so clouded was his mind in the quest to turn you into a puddle of liquid goo for only his consumption. The wave of it crested through the length of your body, vibrating every limb and twitching each nerve ending. Your spine arched from the unmade sheets, the hand coiled tight in Hiromi’s hair spasming and tugging without even meaning to and that’s when he noticed. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his lips around your pulsing clit and sucked it deeper into his mouth.

Stars winked into your vision at being thrust from one orgasm directly into another so violently. Your pussy fluttered ceaselessly, a craving deep in your gut to be filled at all costs, yet right now all you could do was hold on for dear life whilst you bucked and rutted against your husband’s face, wetting it thoroughly. He nosed at your quaking thigh, sharp incisors nipping your yielding flesh until you yelped and tried to close your legs without success.

You became aware of movement, the absence of shoulders beneath your thighs and you blinked to find a desperate predator stripping off his clothes whilst prowling back and forth at the foot of the bed. Hiromi grasped his cock, tugging it down to the base to spread the leaked precum that continued to dribble from his cockhead. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had already cum, but he was always the excitable type who would leak and leak until you did something about it, usually opting to take him down your throat until he convulsed and spilt everything he had to offer.

Your hand trailed lower down your body, fingers playing in the spit-soaked mess he’d left behind in his hurry to stand and strip. Hiromi whined; head cocked to the side as he watched you play idly with your puffy lips flooded with the surge of blood and circling your pert little pearl. He fucked his fist harder, the other hand rolling his heavy balls until his stomach sucked in and your nostrils flared in warning.

“C’mere mister lawyer, I don’t want you wasting your orgasm when it could be filling me nicely.”

How quickly the tables could turn. One minute he was the predator, pawing and demanding, taking what he wanted without question, and the next he was the prey. Trapped on his back with cheeks a ruddy hue and eyes that begged for clemency. Your much small hand encased his dick, twisting your palm on each upward stroke while you straddled him and rocked yourself against the balls he’d just been palming.

His hands shook with restraint as they reached for your breasts, filling his broad palms and massaging them until you dipped low to claim his lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his mouth and the sensation empowered you, fucking his throbbing cock through your folds until he twitched and whimpered some more.

“Please… fuck. Need to be inside. Might not last. God, you’re so fucking sexy. Don’t deserve you.” Hiromi babbled every syllable, sounding drunk when there was little to no alcohol left in his system.

His fingertips dipped inside the cups of your bodysuit, tweaking at your nipples and you indulged his silent request by allowing him to fold the cups down and let the spill of your tits fill his face. With renewed vigour and enthusiasm, he mouthed at you and ran his tongue in circles around your nipples one at a time.

You keened at the familiar sensation, swept away by a current of pure indulgence when he moved to suckle you. It was the perfect moment to strike, with Hiromi distracted in flicking his tongue over and over, round and round your swollen bud, you guided him to notch at your entrance and slowly sank onto his needy dick. He grunted; his grip tightening on your waist, but he refused to come up for air, continuing to nudge his nose into your breast, lips pulling the nipple taut until he finally released with a gasp.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you more than I can express.”

Hiromi worshipped you with his gaze, eyes full of devotion and unbridled passion whilst you rode him steadily. The sticky pap pap pap of your pelvis meeting his was the soundtrack to your lovemaking, because beneath the sexy lingerie and the ideas you had planned for the weekend, that’s what this was and always would be. You knew he didn’t need the extra faff to love you with his whole heart. You knew that he was aroused by you simply walking through the kitchen in a pair of his boxers.

You knew he loved you for you.

His dappled cheeks darkened further, the furrow of his brow telling of how he was trying to stave off his release, but you wanted him as undone as you had been, and you would not be denied. Leaning forward, your palms found purchase on his shoulders, breasts bouncing freely in time with your hips, and you squeezed around his shaft until the vein in his temple popped and he let out a guttural groan.

Hiromi grabbed around your middle, flipping you up and over so that he could thrust himself into overstimulation without hindrance. Pressing your thighs to your chest, you heard the telltale rip and knew that another pair of tights had fallen victim to Higuruma Hiromi despite your best efforts to keep them safe. His swollen cock pumped thick spurts of his milky cum against your cervix, filling you to the brim yet continuing to sloppily thrust in and out.

“-cum again… gotta—fuckkk. You’re so tight,” he bit through the words, fighting the steady burn of overstimulation to see you orgasm for the third time and you were close. A glob of spit landed against your clit, thick fingers shaking from exertion rubbing the frothy mess into you with insistent motions. He was a man possessed, falling apart for him was as easy as drawing breath and he caught you on your free fall.

You chanted his name in some semblance of a prayer, thrashing and clawing at anything you could reach until you milked him again and he lost the ability to hold himself up. Hiromi fell atop you, his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hot shuddering moans stifled by his mouth on your neck while he weakly tried to bear some of his weight onto an arm.

“Stop squirming, you’re not that heavy, Hiro,” you teased with a light slap against his back.

Once you could both speak without sounding winded, you combed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, moving the strands that stuck to his forehead away until you could trace his eyebrows, his jaw, and the bridge of his nose. “Y’know… you ripped my tights—again.”

Hiromi chuckled, rubbing his cheek against your chest. “I did, and I’d do it again. Maybe give them a miss if we do this again, hm?”

“You liked the surprise then?”

“I already told you that I did, not that I needed it. All I ever need is you.”

It was your turn to chuckle, booping the tip of his nose. “Maybe when I show you the receipt, you’ll change your tune.”

“… sweetheart. How much did it cost? Don’t roll away, missy! Answer my question. Hey. Hey! You have to answer the lawyer when they ask a question.”

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | MV1 , LH44

Act 2. Part 6 : The Truth Unraveling

Ships : Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader, Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama, Angst, Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters, Manipulation, Blackmail, Swearing

A/N : Rahhhh! I’m so sorry for taking so long to update, forgive me.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Masterlist

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Distinguished, proud, and dignified are words paralleled to the motorhome of Mercedes Amg Petronas F1 team. The team where this era’s champions are bred and trained. It was the model of what a Formula 1 team should be.

However, this is all in the perception of the common fan —a facade carefully built for the media and their sponsors. In reality everything was far from it. Manipulation, deceit, and sketchy dealings are rampant behind closed doors. Rumors and slander come out of that place on the daily. And in the world of Formula 1 when scandals arise, however unjust and cruel — a person is guilty until proven. That was the deal.

All are well aware of such a notion. And when Mercedes had posted an official statement about Y/N L/N’s supposed lawsuit. The entirety of motorsport was in shock and disbelief. Many were convinced about the allegations and had petitioned for your removal from the sport, while the few who had actually known you had stood by your integrity and your character as a person.

In an instant, your years of hard work were put under a microscope and are being devalued to its foundations. Your presence as a woman in motorsports was already a hot matter, and some are only waiting for you to trip. And now they have the opportunity to discredit you.

Inside the motorhome of Mercedes, chatters and whispers littered every corner and every wall. Not one Mercedes employee wasn't talking about the topic of Y/N L/N’s lawsuit. With them insulting your name — most of which are the engineers who were envious of your success. Nevertheless, in the darkness there are some fireflies where they light up the night by a fraction. These are the people who actually directly worked with you… they were not your friends, but they cannot diminish your work as they saw it first hand.

And they were the people who saw the change in Lewis Hamilton upon your departure from the team. They knew that you and Lewis were dating, but they kept it to themselves. They were not blind nor were they stupid, but why should they care? The team was winning, that was all that mattered.

However, when you left and went to Red Bull and became Max Verstappen’s engineer — they watched as Lewis lost himself bit by bit. First came anger and agitation, Lewis was livid inside the motorhome, snapping at everyone and everything. Then day by day every ounce of spark had drained from the driver’s body, leaving a hollow vessel behind. He no longer went out drinking with the team, no more parties and galas, no more women.

Until that one fateful day where everyone was mandated to celebrate in a club chosen by their boss specifically out of nowhere. Lewis was with the other drivers only nursing a single drink in his hand. Up to, late that night when he looked out of it and a girl was in his arms kissing him feverishly. They thought that Lewis was back to his partying playboy personality.

However they were gravely mistaken, as the morning after Lewis was back to the hollow and empty version of himself and he went on racing on autopilot. Another drastic change had happened to Lewis Hamilton that got the team on their toes — Lewis Hamilton was suddenly filled with determination and resolve , for what? They did not know. Not till they heard of the news of the party in Monaco where Y/N L/N had Max Verstappen wrapped around her finger and had made a fool out of their boss.

Lewis came back a man with a purpose, it was as if he was in his rookie years filled with so much resolve and focus to prove himself. And they could only point all of this to one person. The person who turned their motorhome upside down — Y/N L/N.

And so , when they’ve gotten news about the lawsuit, they immediately informed Lewis.

He was already on edge from his loss to Max in the race and he was furious at your exchange of affection with Max on the podium. Lewis was not angry with you. How could he? You were his light.It was his fault for letting you go into the arms of the enemy. He knew that it was his mistake for taking you for granted. Lewis knew that he should’ve loved you and came clean when he had you. You would’ve understood… Lewis knew that you would. He knew you – he was sure of it.

Lewis knew that he should’ve told you the truth and confessed his sins… be he was too ashamed and guilty for what he has done to you. Ultimately, he was terrified that you would never forgive him for what he had agreed to do. He was afraid that you would’ve left when you came to know that his relationship with you was tailored by Toto Wolff. But you had already left him for an entirely different reason.

It was just supposed to be business and nothing more for the British driver but now all things were clouded as he found himself in the clutches of Love itself. Maybe it was his punishment for his selfishness and greed for success. But you cannot blame him for wanting the best for himself– after his father sacrificed so much for his dream. The temptation of Wolff’s words was a trap that he willingly went under.

Date the girl, make her content with what she had and nothing more. Tie her down and make her loyal to him and the team. Make her believe that it was him and her against the world. Keep it a secret so he would still be free.

It was easy to pretend at first– Lewis always thought that Y/N L/N had everything made easy for her. Lewis had despised that you had climbed the ladders so quickly in such a short amount of time… where he had to bear the prejudice, discrimination, bigotry and grudgingly wait, swallowing his pride for so many years at the chance in Formula 1. He hated that the pretty girl had made her way through the system without much of a hiccup.

With the plan in mind, Lewis started with flirting here and there– which Y/N had only prompted back with humor, not showing any true interest. Then came the banter, side jokes, and actually spending time together that ultimately opened the avenue of Lewis to get to know you, proving Lewis wrong of his prejudice against you. He saw himself in you, the pain and struggle that came with not fitting in with the cookie cutter image of Formula 1. Lewis Hamilton had seen your courage, tenacity, and will to prove to everyone that you belonged in the sport. In this you had earned his respect.

The friendship between the two of you bloomed. Lewis eagerly sought for your companionship and conversation, he had found a true friend in you. Then the gifts had started coming in – it was all in good heartedness at first, a true gesture of appreciation. Everything was innocent at first, Lewis had forgotten why he had approached you in the first place. That was till the big boss had reminded him of their agreement and toxified Lewis’ mind yet again – that he needed to prove himself to the world and to the team and all that. Then the flirtings came back and the intention of making Y/N his came back. And this time it was successful, Y/N had shown reciprocation to his advances.

Lewis had officially taken Y/N for himself. Lewis had enjoyed his time with you, all the memories you’ve built together from then forward were authentic and true. Through every ups and downs, you were with him. Without notice, Lewis Hamilton had unknowingly truly fallen for you. His agreement with Toto was the last thing on his mind.

However, that love was not enough to distinguish his desire for greatness. Lewis was still consumed by what the world offered. But everything became real and true way too fast for Lewis when the entry of a young Dutch driver to Formula 1 had happened. Suddenly his reign was shaken and it had clouded his judgment, even towards the person that he had loved. Lewis saw your friendly interactions with Max and he had seen you defend the young driver. In his panic, jealousy, and uncertainty, He had allowed Toto to manipulate him against the very person who had shown him love and care. He had once again allowed someone to poison his mind against you.

Lewis had started to doubt you and your love for him. He allowed the rumors and false accounts on you get to his head. And to his shame, Lewis had believed the stupidest thing that he could’ve thought— that Y/N was causing and conspiring in his fall and loss of the championship.

Lewis had believed that Y/N had betrayed him. He believed Toto’s words and he allowed Toto to demote Y/N. Lewis knew that he chose to believe everyone but the person that had loved him. And this had caused him the person he loved. Y/N had left him.

Regret was short of what Lewis felt. The emotional pain had manifested into pain that he felt on the outside. Lewis had felt pain like no other at the loss of Y/N. But it was a pain that he would choose to go through, if it meant that he finally realized the mistakes that brought pain to his Y/N. He would gladly go through the pain if it meant that he finally realized the depth of his love for the girl he once took for granted.

And He promised to himself that he will get her back and prove himself worthy to Y/N. Lewis Hamilton will take all means necessary to right his wrongs — and it starts within Mercedes, where the root of the problems began. Fuck the championship and the team. He wont let them touch Y/N again.

Exploding with simmering rage, Lewis had found himself in front of Toto Wolff’s office. Not bothering to knock, he had opened the door with a crashing bang not caring if he broke the office door or if everyone heard the commotion.

“WOLFF!! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” The loud shouts of Lewis filled the entire office.

“Calm down and close the damn door, Lewis” there sat behind his office table, a stack of paper in hand — Toto Wolff. The man’s expression was unreadable and cold. Toto knew how to keep his reactions and emotions away from the English champion. Toto Wolff always knew how to control and deal with Lewis Hamilton … until Lewis had fallen for Y/N L/N for real.

Toto can read Lewis Hamilton like an open book— Toto knew what Lewis’ thoughts were before he said them. But when Lewis had started to deviate from the plan, Lewis Hamilton’s priority had shifted. The champion had set his heart on you.

Lewis Hamilton had deviated from the plan. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the engineer. No, the plan was to date the girl to keep her in Mercedes, be his race engineer and keep her in line.

This was set between Lewis and Toto from when he transferred to the team. From day 1, everything was set in stone. But to Toto Wolff’s vexation, Y/N L/N had always come up on top.

Y/N L/N had turned his golden driver, the key to his success and fortune against him. Lewis Hamilton was no longer the puppet he could control. Just because he fell to the charms of the engineer.

“Shut the fuck up Wolff! Drop the fucking lawsuit on Y/N or I’ll swear I’ll tear this team and your reputation apart” Lewis raged, muscles tensing as he jabbed his finger menacingly at Toto.

***

“Christian what is this about? What is going on?” After you had received the urgent news. You had quickly made your way towards the Red Bull Motorhome.

Your phone was blasted with notifications from all social media platforms. Mercedes had the insolence of posting in the media of something that wasn’t yet to be discussed with you nor Red Bull. You knew that this was another dirty tactic on their part

“They’re suing you and the team for a data and contract breach” Christian had said begrudgingly as he sat back his chair, a hand on the bridge of his nose.

“What? On what grounds?” You asked exasperated as you took a seat in front of Christian’s table.

“Here’s a copy of their claim” Christian gave you a copy of the paper from Mercedes. You flipped through the pages and you couldn’t help but mockingly laugh.

You were being sued on the grounds of sharing information on team and driver strategies to Red Bull and that you didn’t finish your employment contract with them. You could help but think of how desperate and pathetic they could be.

How can they be so petty and think of you cheating just cause they couldn’t win against you.

“Wow, they couldn’t handle the fact that they’re loosing, huh. What did the FIA say?” You once again asked your team principal.

Suddenly the door opened revealing a disheveled Max— who seemed to have ran his way here.

“What the fuck did I hear about a lawsuit?!” Max was hysterical as he made his way into the room.

Christian didn’t mind the Dutch driver as he answered my question.

“They haven’t contacted us yet, but expect that you will be suspended from engineering for Max till end of the season.” A look of sympathy had shown itself on the principal.

“They wouldn’t dare! Y/N is innocent! Just cause they cant swallow their incompetence, they target Y/N?! Cowardly motherfuckers” Max ranted.

They expected you to cower and run for the hills, but this was something you had already planned on them doing. Petty and underhanded actions are Mercedes’ MO and you are prepared for it.

If they wanted to play it this way, then you’ll up them in their own game.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll have your back and we’ll do everything in our power to prove your innocence” Christian had said showing his support. Meanwhile Max was on his phone typing away muttering under his breath that he’ll pay millions for the best lawyer for you.

“Thank you Christian, it’s very much appreciated! Great to know the team has my back. But I think we should fight fire by fire first” you smiled at them menacingly as looks of confusion appeared on them.

“What do you mean, Liebling?” Max questioned

“A counterclaim on Mercedes on the grounds of employee maltreatment and workplace harassment — don’t worry, Nico will testify if needed” You smiled brightly, as if what you said was nothing.

“It will only be fair if we take this to the media as well right? They did start it first” you added.

“That will ruin the reputation of Mercedes… are you sure, y/n? They will be out for blood.” Christian warned.

The pain, humiliation, and mental abuse you’ve experienced in that motorhome, everything they’ve done to you came rushing back.

“They’ve ruined mine and they’re dragging the team into. Its only fair”

“Y/N there are hundreds of employees at Mercedes that will face fire. Are you certainly sure?”

“Mercedes will survive, it’s only the principal and top management that needs total revamping.”

***

Red Bull had just posted their response to Mercedes and all of motorsports was having a field day. All sports news was covering the debacle between the two motor teams.

Your phone was once again lighting up with notifications. And one particular message has gotten your attention that you couldn’t help but reply.

Upon reading the last reply, your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you ask Max?

Max wouldn’t do anything like that right? Max knew what Toto Wolff had done to you… he wouldn’t work with Toto right?

Max knew you detested the man that made your life a living hell. Max would never.

Yeah … he wouldn’t.

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[tremendouscreationperson]

A little fic based off of this

Whenever I write an X Reader it's usually for chubby!reader but it's actually a plot point in this one

Chubby/bullied!reader x stan

You, Ford, Caryn and Filbrick sat in the front row.

Stan had a big fight tonight, the only reason his father came, and you were nervously tapping your leg. His opponent, Godfrey Davies, was bigger and looked meaner but you knew Stan could potentially pull it off.

The two entered the ring and Stan gave you a cheeky wink before his eyes caught his father. His whole expression changed when he clocked Filbrick.

"He better win." Ford commented.

You knew what Ford was implying. If Stan lost in front of his dad he would be crushed. And Filbrick was the type of man who would leave if he was bored so Stan would also have to put on a good show.

The two touched gloves and the bell rang.

You weren't a huge boxing fan but wouldn't deny the rush a match gave you. The adrenaline of the room coursed through your veins as each punch landed. Godfrey was strong, he had hit Stan's stomach a few times but Stan was quick enough to dodge any major strikes.

Godfrey managed to land a blow against Stan's cheek and your hand grasped Fords.

You glanced at Ford as an excuse to spy on Filbrick but the man gave nothing away. Merely enjoying? the show.

In the split second your eyes were off of Stan, he had managed to gain the upper hand with a series of quick jabs against Godfrey's right side.

"He's hurt him." Ford informed you. "See the twitch."

You followed his fingers, unable to see the twitch, alas you trusted Ford's intelligence. If Ford said Stan hurt him then he hurt him.

The two danced around each other for the remainder of the round, there was a soft tap here and a dodge there but otherwise it was quiet.

The next round was similar. There were the odd moments of carnal violence sprinkled in between their dance but it was the third round that mattered.

As Stan took a sip of water, he turned in your direction, his pale skin beginning to pinken as it swelled up. He gave you all a sloppy smirk and when the bell rang again, there was a new fire in him.

Stan kept low and stayed with defence until Godfrey tired himself out - punching ludicrously hard against Stan's forearm block - and just when Godfrey stopped to pant, Stan whacked him with an uppercut.

Godfrey stumbled backwards, wobbling on his feet. Stan was on him in an instant punching him in the face and forcing the man to the floor.

The ref called it and everyone cheered.

He had won!

This was a big deal.

He could now fight in a higher tier.

This was really good news!

You released Ford from your hug and he ran over to his twin. The boys embraced, clapping each other's backs, grinning from ear to ear.

Caryn was next, she slipped in the hug, squeezing her babies tight. You knew she said a cheesy joke along the lines of 'I didn't need a crystal ball to know you'd win' because the twins rolled their eyes in sync but there was no real malice behind the gesture.

Filbrick finally made his move: a pat on the shoulder. You knew it meant the world to Stan. He deserved it. He really did. He was glorious.

A photographer worked his way into the ring and told the family to smile but Stan stopped the photo.

"Wait, where's Y/N?" His eyes scanned the crowd that had formed, swarming the ring side. He had a lot of groupies, unsurprisingly. People loved a big strong man and it didn't hurt that he looked like that.

They landed on you and you smiled, waving awkwardly as he gestured for you to join them. The room was noisy and people were still cheering, drinks being drunk, music blaring so he didn't hear your reply. You tried to call out again but in the end shook your head, sheepishly.

It was his moment. He needed this. To be in a photo with his family. He could frame it.

Besides, you'd only ruin it.

You weren't exactly pretty.

A fact that everyone had relentlessly told you at school.

The only reason you were still alive was Stan and Ford's friendship, otherwise you'd have had to fight the onslaught of insults alone and you really didn't think you were strong enough for that.

Stan frowned momentarily before forcing a smile for the photo.

~~

"Doll face?" You were sitting in your garden, on the swing your dad had made, reading the Lord of the Rings. Turning your head you found Stan. He was standing next to you, hands in pockets. He had bruises on his cheek and a split lip you hadn't noticed at the time.

"Hi." You smiled up, closing the book. "How'd's it feel to be a winner?"

Stan chuckled, plonking down on the swing next to you. Your dad had to install another when you eventually made friends. "'little sore."

"I bet you don't feel it because your dad was proud of you." You mock punched his arm. "He really was."

Stan swivelled on the swing, the rope twisting together as he spun around.

You suspected he had something to say so kept quiet until he found the words.

Stan let go, spinning until he was back in the correct place.

"You know you're gorgeous right?" The words tumbled out.

They took you aback. You hadn't ever thought those words would come out of his mouth. "Pardon?"

He let out a shaky breath, gazing up at the sky. "You're really pretty. I don't know why Jorgie and her gang tell you otherwise. Like a damn movie star."

Where had this come from? "Wh-"

"The photo." He answered without needing the question. "I wish you were in it."

You didn't know what to say or how to respond. The only thing you could think to do was shyly smile and reach for his hand.

~~

"Filbrick, that's Y/N." You overheard Caryn whisper to her husband. They were in the Kitchen where you were planning on getting a drink. "She comes over all the time."

He huffed.

Did-did he not know who you were?

You were here every other day.

Hell, you once made the man dinner!

Caryn had been sick and the boys were useless so you came around and rustled up some grub for the four of them.

That was insulting.

"The fat one?" He questioned.

Fat?

Were you fat?

You glanced down at yourself, you could see your toes but maybe not as much as you should be able to?

"She's no-well, it doesn't matter. She's good for Stan..and Ford. Keeps them sane."

Caryn thought you were fat too?

You stepped away carefully, avoiding the spots in the wood that creaked, and nestled yourself back into the boys room. Settling next to Stan in his bed as they argued about nothing important.

~~

You'd declined every offer Stan made to go out. You didn't want to look like you were avoiding him but his parents thought you were fat and that had shaken your self image.

You were obviously not thin in the mirror and people at school called you fat and ugly all the time. So much that part of you believed it and part of you brushed it off but to hear it from them... From people you trusted...

You knew you were nothing great to look at. Stan being sweet was just him trying to comfort you, you probably embarrassed them.

In an effort to beautify yourself, your evenings were spent jogging mostly. It was awful and you hated it but you made sure to do it before dinner or you wouldn't eat.

"Oit." A voice called, you spun to see Stan running to catch up.

"Hey."

"What're we doing?" He fell into pace with you.

"Jogging." You offered.

"Har, har." He playfully shoved you. "Why are we jogging? It's the worst."

Your face split into a grin, loving how in sync the two of you were. "It really is! I hate it."

When you both rounded the corner, he repeated himself. "C'mon what are we doing?"

"Trying to lose weight." You answered.

"W-why?" Your reply had caught him completely off guard that he faltered. Stan had to speed up to match your pace again. "You don't need to."

A dark chuckle left you without your consent. "I heard someone talking-"

"Ignore the girls at school." He interrupted.

"It wasn't-" Jogging and talking was hard. "It was someone whose opinion I'd hate to admit I trust. They said it straight."

Stan made a face but didn't argue. He would let you win this round and later convince you to come to the diner and get a thick shake. He knew you weren't fat. Well, maybe you were but not in a bad way! You looked amazing! The meat on your bones was in all the right places. More to love like platonically.

Eventually the two of you came to a stop outside your house.

"I don't think jeans were designed for running." Stan tried to pry the fabric off his thigh.

"I'd never blame you, beautiful." He folded his arms. "Now, who do I have to beat up?"

You giggled. "Don't blame me. I didn't ask you to join me."

"No one." Your eyes rolled automatically.

"Hey, don't do that."

"I'm not doing anyth-"

Stan closed the distance, cupping your cheeks in his palms, forcing eye contact. "Tell me. 'cause you're perfect."

Why had he decided to be all sweet and flirty recently? He did know you were the butt of every joke, right? Like everyone else, he was well aware that boys would ask you out as a prank. Was this one? No, not your Stan.

Well he wasn't your Stan.

"Earth to Y/N." He manipulated your head, swaying it gently side to side.

"Huh?"

"Who called you fat?"

The words seemed to leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. Your mind hadn't even registered properly and they were released into the world. "Your parents."

The neutral expression morphed into anger. Stan's brows pulled as his pupils shrunk. A twitch occurred in his jaw. "My dad?"

"Your mom, too." You shrugged. "It's nothing massive, it's actually helpful. Now I know it's true I can-"

"No." He shook his head. "No, it's not. It's mean." Stan placed his forehead against yours and took in a breath. "When I say you are perfect, believe it. Don't change anything. Please, doll."

~~

The new few months played out in the usual fashion. You'd go to school, then theirs, they'd come to yours, the three of you would worry about test results, studying was tricky when the boys were helping - they always got off topic. It didn't take long before all the exams were finished and the school year was coming to a close meaning prom.

You and the twins went together. None of you officially had dates but that didn't matter because it was always you three vs the world.

A triangle was the strongest shape after all.

You arrived at the Pines house on time, barely giving the door a knock before it swung open. Stan was quick to exit and pulled you towards the car.

He didn't look back, settling you into the passenger seat as he rounded the car to the driver's.

"Stan?" You glanced at the front door. "Everything okay?" Caryn had begged you to come in and take photos less than a week ago. Maybe Stan knew you were embarrassed or maybe he was going back on his words... Maybe he was embarrassed of you.

Stan gave you a curt nod, his palms tightening in the steering wheel. You watched the knuckles whiten on his left hand before his right caught your gaze. There was blood on them.

Why was there blood on his knuckles?!

"Where's Ford?"

As if on cue Ford left the house, closing the door behind him and strode towards the car.

He slipped into the backseat and gave you a sheepish smile.

The car journey was blessedly short and weird to say the least.

You distracted yourself with the radio.

At school you took the obligatory "couple" photo. You stood between the boys arm in arm. Even if it was fake, it was the first time Stan smiled tonight.

You were led to the gym - they had dressed it up for a party but it was still just your school gym - and found a spot to stand and people watch.

Ford attempted to make small talk with others but he wasn't hugely successful, coming back each time with an 'aww shucks'. At least he didn't have punch thrown at him. Silver linings and all that, hey?

Stan was still being strange so you let him be. Sometimes he went quiet when he was thinking too hard. You hoped he was able to at least enjoy a bit of the evening.

He had just excused himself to use the toilet when Ford sprinted back to your side. "Finally!"

"What?!"

"He punched dad." Ford whispered.

Huh, it sounded like Ford told you Stan had punched Filbrick but that would be insane. "Care to run that by me again?"

"Dad said something and Stan shouted before he just socked him. It was intense. Dad then shook his hand!"

What?!

"Wait, I don't get it." You frowned. "Your dad's been an asshole for years, what made Stan snap?"

Ford shrugged but you knew he knew. Why wasn't he telling you? "Ask him."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just ask Stan 'why'd you finally decide to whack your dad?' Think about it for more than two seconds!"

Ford's eyes slipped over your shoulder and he nodded minutely. Stan was back in the room.

Your eyes immediately found his knuckles, they weren't bloodied but even from here you could see the slight pink hue. You turned to ask Ford something only to find he had disappeared again.

Stan made his way through the dancefloor and stopped by your side.

After Ford's confession the silence was maddening. You needed to ask why but how do you go about it? How do you just ask him? And his dad shook his hand? Was that a goodbye? Was Stan being kicked out? No, Filbrick wasn't that cruel.

"Fancy a dance?" You offered. Stan looked at you and then the crowd, unease splattered throughout his expression. "We don't have to."

"It is a dance, though." He commented. "Just- there's a lot of people."

"It's okay." You brushed him off. It wasn't a massive deal, you didn't have to dance at a dance.

"There wasn't anyone in the corridor by Mr Tymeh's. Could still hear the music." He didn't outright ask you but you'd been friends long enough to read between the lines.

"Lead the way."

The two of you left the gym and wandered past the toilets to the small 'office' Mr Tymeh ate his lunch and moaned at the less athletic students in.

Stan was right, you could hear the music from here and the corridor was empty.

"Wanna do this then?" He asked, making zero eye contact.

"Stan, we don't have to if yo-" You were unable to finish the sentence because he pulled you close, hands on your waist, and swayed.

Your hands met his shoulders and you let him move the two of you back and forth. The song wasn't meant for slow swaying but this half-dance was really sweet so you weren't going to complain.

"I like your suit." You brushed your fingers along his collar.

"Thanks, got mine and Fords for the price of one." He smirked cockily. "You, uh, you look beautiful as ever. That colour's real pretty."

You didn't give the compliment to get one, hopefully he knew that!! Yet it was sweet hearing the words. Choosing the colour was very hard, you didn't want to look good for everyone else, you wanted to feel good for yourself and when you finally decided what you were wearing you did feel good.

Maybe tonight you'd believe Stan's words.

Believe you were pretty passable.

Your brain was getting too distracting so you softly asked, "what happened to your hand?"

"Some schmuck." He shrugged. "No one important."

You pulled his hand from your hip and frowned at the knuckles. "That's not what Ford said."

Stan groaned. "That fucker."

"Are you alright?"

He looked into your eyes before nodding. "Yeah."

"Gonna tell me about it?" You raised a brow.

"He was just being an asshole." There was more to the story. There had to be. Filbrick had been an asshole for years and Stan hadn't snapped, so why now? Stan saw the confusion in your face and elaborated. "He made comments about you."

Your frown deepened. "You hit your dad for me?" You were not worth that. Why the fuck would he-

"Course I did." Stan paused. "He can say what he wants about me but not you." His eyes flickered to your opening mouth. "It was strange, he patted me on the back and shook my hand after. Proud of me for standing up I guess."

.

.

.

@nyx-universe @aceistheplace86

[yawnderu]

Believer - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

Based on this post by @actuallyhiswife!

Simon is a broken man. A piece of art no one has the patience to understand, simply accepting it's so abstract its own creator made it at random, up until you came along. Until you came along, taking years to break him down, to understand him better, to adjust your body language until it became something he could be comfortable with.

It took a full year. A full year until he started seeking for you without even realizing. Sitting down next to you in meetings, always checking your status on comms, willingly taking care of you when you get hurt during a mission, hunting down whoever dared hurt you, yet he still wouldn't call that love. Simon is too broken for love, and Ghost is too cold for it... things you seem to ignore when you first confess your love for him. The same way you ignore the pain of his rejection.

''You deserve better.'' Is all he tells you, tone as avoidant as possible as he simply focuses on cleaning his gun, assembling the parts almost on autopilot after years of using them. After years of killing, even when necessary. He doesn't even remember when he became numb to it all.

''I deserve you.'' Your hands are on his in an instant, not caring about the callouses and the rough texture of his fingers. He doesn't push you away. He can never push you away, no matter how much it stabs at his heart.

''I'm broken, lass. People like me don't deserve love.'' His hand tightens on yours ever so slightly despite his words.

''You say that, but you're always telling me shit you never tell anyone else. You take me stargazing, take me out to eat, you let me touch you. You let me get close.'' Your words hold no frustration, simply full of yearning and confusion, despite knowing the answer.

''That's not love.'' His gaze shifts towards you, the longing and emotions in his eyes unmistakable. His gaze doesn't soften for anyone but you, much to his dismay.

''I don't want to hurt you, love. I know I will, and I know it'll be bad.'' Everyone I ever loved died because of me. The longing in his eyes is replaced by pain. Memories of his family, of his friends, of the heavy burden he carries on his shoulders, crushing him down like Atlas holding the sky.

''Stubborn girl.'' He lets out a bitter chuckle, disbelief in his tone as he looks down at you, at the way you're removing his glove so you can hold his bare hand like a lifeline.

''You know it.'' The cheeky grin you shoot his way is enough to make the corners of his lips tug up, pupils dilating as he studies your expression.

He sighs and leans over, pressing his clothed forehead against yours. Examining you carefully, taking in the pure love in your eyes. It feels like forever until the words finally leave his mouth.

''I think I'm in love with you.'' The words feel foreign in his mouth, years and years of nothing but discipline and self-preservation made it unable for him to form any type of personal relationships until you came along, coming into his heart as if it was your right. In a way, he believes it is. If she's determined to love a broken man...

''You win.'' He tries to bring the coldness back to his voice, yet his love is so painfully obvious, bleeding out of his words like nothing.

''I love you.'' No more walls, no more barriers. He may be as difficult as they come, but you know his love is pure.

[ryebread0605]

Hi! Are you okay with us requesting smut? If so, could I request maybe Jamil pulling Reader/Yuu into a private area after a basketball game and taking them? It's up to you if they won or lost, but he just has so much adrenaline after the game he needs to let it out somehow, and Reader/Yuu dressed up in a like cheerleading outfit and was cheering him on and he couldn't stop looking at them throughout the game. Bonus points for jealousy because the other team was checking Reader/Yuu out- thank you so much!

Smut is 100% ok to request! As long as it isn’t Floyd x jade, silver x Lilia, or anyone x ortho! 

I love soft dom Jamil so I hope that’s ok if I kinda added that! Jealousy will be included cuz I find it cute to have him want your attention on him! 

Includes: dom Jamil, public sex, fem reader, some light degradation

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Jamil never thought himself one to be jealous, especially not after he let his jealousy cause him to nearly harm you when he Overblotted. So when he felt the familiar twist in his stomach, seeing members of the opposing team watching your cheer routine? He tried to ignore it. Surely the feeling would go away overtime, right? Yeah, of course they would. And afterall, how could they not want to look at you in that cute crop top and pleated skirt, embroidery of the Night Raven College logo dead center across your chest. Those twirls, you bending down, the cute smile on your face.. sevens he had to try hard to focus on the match. 

You ran to Jamil with a huge smile on your face as the match ended, NRC winning 7-5 making it a close game. Pom Pom’s still in your hands, you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Jamil! You guys did amazing! Did you hear how loud I was cheering? I hope so!” Your voice was cheery as you bounced in place, Jamil finding it harder and harder to keep his gaze on your face and not at your cleavage pressed against him. He was still annoyed at how the other boys had stared at you, but that annoyance and jealousy grew far FAR worse as Floyd and Ace decided to come over and make things worse. 

“Heyyy sea snake? Did ya see how those Royal Academy boys were lookin at shrimpyyy? Looks like shrimpy’s got more fans than usss~” Floyd’s teasing tone made Jamil have to take deep breaths, trying to calm himself which he was almost able to until Ace’s snarky voice added in.

“Ha! I bet they’d die for a chance with you (y/n), better make them know you’re dating Jamil. Don’t want her to get taken as a Royal Academy cheerleader~” oh that was it. A low growl came from Jamil as he dragged you out of the gym, leaving behind a laughing Floyd and Ace along with the other team members looking confused.

“J-Jamil where are we going? Everyone is still in the-“ 

“You’re mine (y/n). Mine only. And I want to make sure everyone knows” in an instant, your chest was pressed against the wall as you felt yourself sandwiched between it and Jamil, his hand slipping under the crop top and groping your breasts. His voice was barely above a whisper in your ear, the sound of it causing shivers to roll down your spine,

“I bet you liked the attention, right? Liked having other guys ogle you? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they all stare~” his hands made quick work of the cheer uniform, tossing both the skirt and shirt to the ground and leaving you in the panties and bra you had on underneath. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pulled his jersey off and dropped it atop your uniform.

God, proof of how hard he worked at those practices was on display for your eyes to hungrily take in. His hands push your panties to the side as you are distracted by his abs, a finger pressing deep inside you making your breath hitch. His finger moved fast and soon one became two as he scissored your now dripping cunt open, stretching you for him as he felt his shorts tighten. Once he felt you were sufficiently stretched, he removed his fingers and chuckled at your soft whines from the loss of something inside of you. His shorts joined yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist, rubbing his cock up and down your slick folds and teasing his tip at the entrance. 

“P-please Jamil please I need you!” Your voice held a soft whine, making his smirk widen as he left hickeys along your neck, removing your bra to access your breasts as well and leaving marks along the sensitive skin

“Oh? Do you really need me that badly? So goddamn needy, you wanna risk someone hearing us?” The soft moan you let out confirmed to him that even just the idea you *could* get caught had turned you on and, with that, he pressed the tip of his cock into your cunt with a grunt. Barely giving you time to adjust, he quickly bottomed out with only a few thrusts.

“There, that enough for you princess? So goddamn horny, just for me. Such a good little slut, wanting everyone to hear you call my name~” Jamil’s voice in your ear, so soft and sensual with his degrading comments just made your cunt clench around him, eliciting another groan of pleasure. Your soft begs for him to move soon faded to moans of pleasure as he started off rough right away, his hips slamming against yours and the sound of skin slapping filling the once silent halls. The brutal pace didn’t let up, not even as your head was thrown back from the pleasure and the knot forming in your stomach. 

“Good little slut, so loud for me~ telling everyone who owns you” each word was emphasized with another hard thrust, his cock hitting that one spot that made you see stars and, before you could warn him, your fluttering walls convulsed around him as the knot in your stomach snapped. Fucking you through your orgasm, Jamil’s pace didn’t let up until hot ropes of his cum shot deep into you.

The two of you stood there panting, both coming down from your highs, basking in that post sex glow you always seemed to have. That moment, however, was interrupted by something that turned you both into blushing messes, 

“God really? You two couldn’t have waited until getting to a bathroom at least?” Ace’s annoyed and embarrassed voice rang through your ears as you two turned to see him covering his blushing face and refusing to look either of you two in the eyes.

“Well, hopefully you’ve learnt not to make me jealous Ace, take this as a lesson” Jamil’s smug smirk returned to his face as the former muttered a quick ‘fuck you’ before walking past you two quickly

Returning his attention to you, Jamil leaned to whisper once more in your ear

“wanna go for a second round~?”

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART III

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (14,1k words)

Author's note: Despite my hectic rl, I finally finished season 4! Thank you for tuning in this far with me ❤️

HAN: Why did I have that wank? [Facepalms]

-

The group has lost another $10,000 and Han contributed $4,000 to that

It doesn't make him feel good letting everyone know that he rubbed one out in the shower earlier but also to everyone who will watch this show.

He wants to book a flight home immediately and never comes out of the house.

Han feels the need to apologize to you for what he did and worse is, not telling you about it. It's hard to get privacy so he waits until everyone leaves the dressing room to do that.

As you sit on your chair brushing your hair, he places a kiss on the top of your head, "Hi, nugget!"

You don't reply but keep untangling your hair with your fingers so he sits on the chair next to you, patiently waiting for you to soften around him.

After a moment, you look at him and softly sigh, "I can't believe you did that."

He hurriedly holds your hand to not let you go from his side, "I know," he meekly says.

"We've been here since day one and trying hard not to..." Your words trail off as you take a cotton pad and put something on it, "And we could have spent God knows how much by now if we did."

He nods and feels bad for it for letting you down, "Yes, know what you're saying," he confirms.

It's obvious to him now that you need time to cool down, he then holds your hand tight and turns your head to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry," he sincerely apologizes.

You put on a weak smile for him but a smile nonetheless, and then you tenderly kiss his cheek, "Wait for me in bed," you tell him.

He allows himself to hold you for a while and lands a quick kiss on your cheek.

"Don't make me wait long," he says as he softly nuzzles his nose in your neck.

-

HAN: I apologized but I still feel like I need to win her over.

-

When you finally come to bed, you seem to have gained your mood back but he remains cautious, he wants to be on your good side.

Han snuggles up to you, overlapping your body with his, and buries his head in your neck, inhaling your scent that puts him in an instant comfort.

The lights are off and not long after that, the chatter dies down the late it gets. He knows you're still awake from how you keep gently ruffling his hair with your fingers.

"Are you still upset?"

You weakly smile at how careful he is asking you that when you're not mad at all, just a bit taken aback.

"A little," you reply with your eyes closed.

He rests his head on his pillow and lays on his side facing you, "it's been hard not to do anything whilst getting closer," he says.

You hold the hand resting on your stomach and turn your head to look at him, "It's hard for me too," you mutter.

You lightly rub his forearm as you keep lowly talking to him, not wanting to disturb everyone else who sleeps in the room.

"I'm ovulating right now, I'm like... hornier than ever," you share with him.

"You what?" He asks in confusion.

"It's just... hard for me too," you skip on trying to explain what it's about.

He lowly chuckles at how you easily give in trying to explain it to him. He leans his head against the side of your head, "How can I not touch you when you're getting hotter and hotter every day, mmh?"

You hate how easy it is for him to make you melt with such cheesy words, you keep your cool and respond with a scoff.

He then places a long kiss on your cheek with his hand cupping your jaw, "And I'm getting more and more smitten," he adds.

You scoff again but you can't help but smile this time, "Cringe!" you respond.

He grins as he nuzzles his head in your neck and whispers into your ear, "I like you so much."

It's been a long time since you haven't felt this admired and adored by someone, it feels good and flattering. You feel like you owe it to him to tell him how you feel.

You look to the side and put your hand on his chin, turning his head to make him look at you.

"I like you too," you mutter to him and your heart is quivering, overflowing with warm feelings.

There's no excuse for this but you feel the urge to show him too so slowly you press your lips on him, kissing him with all of your heart.

-

YOU: At that moment, I feel like it's the right thing to do so I... I kissed him [bites thumb]

-

Han doesn't know how you end up straddling him and now, taking your camisole off of you. He hurriedly covers your body with the duvet as you lean down, kissing him on the neck and around his chest.

He wants to touch you all over, however, his hands are trained to stay on the safe side. He can only hold you as you place kisses across his chest.

"Baby, oh..." he forgets what he's about to say as you land a hot kiss on the column of his neck.

Your body is hovering above him as your hand wanders down his body, all the while your nipples are lightly grazing his chest.

He's high with your kisses but the moment your hand tugging at his boxer, his eyes snap open.

"You want to do it?" He asks.

You slip your hand under the waistband of his boxer, "we can stop," you simply resolve.

It's sneaky of you to throw the ball at his court. You know he wants this, therefore, how can he stop you? If anything, he wants more of you.

"I don't want to stop," he shamelessly admits.

Successfully taking his boxer off, he turns you over and has you pinned underneath him. He takes his turn to bury his mouth on your neck, kissing you down to your chest and he goes under the duvet to plant kisses on your stomach.

His fingers are tugging at the thin strap of your underwear before pulling it down and off your legs, you take it for me to put it on the bedside table.

There's nothing between your bodies now, it's just his skin rubbing against your skin. He watches as you look at your hands, trailing his shoulder blades then drag them down to feel the firmness of his muscles.

Then you slip your arms under and pull him close, sending him to collapse on top of you.

"You're so hot," you speak so low it's almost like a whisper.

You put your hand in the back of his hair and gently tug at his hair, "You're fire," you playfully compliment with a sly grin.

Han can say the same thing, except that he has not yet wrapped his head around the fact that you're both naked under the duvet. He can feel your body heat and the softness of your skin that he can't stop touching you.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters with an overwhelming sigh.

It feels as if there were only you and him existing at the moment that he completely forgot about everyone else sleeping in the room. He doesn't even remember that he has rules to follow.

Han presses a kiss on your lips and it continues into a slow, sensual making out where he can taste your lips, the plush and the warmth of it.

You let out a low moan as he pulled away from the kiss and without warning, put your legs around his waist to not let him go.

There's nothing to hide when you can feel his hardening member poking at your thighs, it's swollen and he's ready for you.

Seeing you spreading your legs open for him, he knows that he gets the permission to proceed with things.

Han reminds himself that he needs to calm down but rather than that, he does the opposite.

He gets hit by so many things all at once, how he shouldn't be doing this, about the money, and that everyone would be disappointed with him because of it. Everything is mixed inside his head and it overwhelms him.

He looks at you and the soft smile on your face, he knows you both want it but it seems like his body is failing him.

"I'm–" he swallows air to relax.

"I'm too tense," he says, shaking his head in panic.

He then collapses on top of you and hides his head in your neck, "I'm sorry," he murmurs with so much regret.

"It's okay," you assure him with a loving pat on his head and endearingly brush his hair to comfort him.

"It's embarrassing," he whines with his head still buried in your neck.

"It's okay, baby," you place a long kiss on his neck to convince him.

You both stay like that, syncing his breathing to the rising and falling of your chest as he rests his head on it and starts to get drowsy.

"We should put our clothes back on," you suggest before he falls asleep.

He reluctantly gets up and starts looking for his boxer, he gets panicked for losing it.

"I can't find it," he lowly speaks.

You wait until you put on your underwear to reply to him, "Huh?"

He clutches the duvet close to his chest, "I can't find my boxer," he says with intensified panic in his voice.

You stop him from pulling the duvet since you're not properly dressed yet and you're aware of the camera filming everything.

"Give me a second, I'll help you find it," you quickly put your camisole back on to help him.

He wraps himself in the duvet and gets off the bed, frantically looking for his boxer around the bed.

"It's nowhere," he says out loud.

You immediately put your hand to cover his mouth and he only realizes it now that he said it out loud. You press your mouth on his chest to muffle your laughter.

"I'm naked," he lowers his voice but says it with so much urgency in it.

"Okay but shh..." You mutter while silently laughing at the way he made a fool of himself out of panic.

You hurriedly look for it on the floor, perhaps one of you kicked it off the bed. You squat down, groping around in the dark while he waits, sitting on the bed wrapped in duvet.

"Got it! Here!" You hand it to him and climb onto the bed.

Still hiding inside the duvet, he quietly puts his boxer back on. It only hits him now how stupid everything was, he's regretting the way he behaved.

You peer inside the duvet and sweetly ask, "Can I join?"

He can let the duvet go and lay down on the bed next to you, he doesn't say anything but snuggles up to you. He feels bad for how things turned out.

"Hey," you softly scratch the hair behind his ear.

You wait until he looks at you to say, "I told you it's okay."

That makes you grateful that he's with you, he's not sure if anyone else would handle this well but you're so patient with him, and you understand him so much.

You bring your mouth close to sweetly kiss him on the cheek, "We'll get our time, mmh?"

He takes your hand and kisses it before resting it on his chest.

-

HAN: This makes me realize that she means a lot more to me than just sleeping with her.

-

There are times when Han looks exceptionally attractive and now he's looking exactly it. His upper body is in its glorious state, muscular chest and stomach on display and his skin is moist with sweat.

He's about to get into the shower when you step into the bathroom, pulling him by the hands to join you to sit inside the empty bathtub.

"So, what's our game plan?" You ask him.

He holds the back of your legs and pinches at the flesh, "Game plan for what?" He plays dumb.

You snort and put your hands on his shoulders, playfully slapping at it, "Should we tell everyone or wait for Lana to expose it?"

He takes your hands and intertwines them together on his knees, "And being scolded twice? No, thank you," he waves your idea away.

Well, you kind of hope that by telling them firsthand, they wouldn't be as mad when they find out about it from Lana. Yet you shudder thinking of being yelled at twice for breaking the rules.

There's another thing to be concerned about.

You put your hands on his neck and lean in close, lowering your voice as you ask, "Do you even know how many times we kissed?"

He suppresses his laughter and it forms a wide grin on his face, he's shaking his head having no idea how much you spent last night.

You lean in closer and lower your voice, "We kissed so many times," you remind him.

Then you get reminded of the hilarity of the situation last night and he seems to recall the same thing as you both break into laughter while looking at each other.

"You messed up," he mischievously accuses you.

"No," you deny, "you messed up!"

He pulls you close and keeps pulling you but you refuse to hug him since he's sweaty, "No, I don't want to hug you."

"Why not?"

"You're dirty," you reply.

"I am dirty," he says with a sly smirk and a wink.

With your hands on his chest, you push him away and get up, then step out of the tub.

"Come shower with me," he says.

You turn around to say, "No."

He uses the towel he's holding to slap your butt with it, "Come shower with your dirty boy!"

"No!" You persist, half-laughing.

Han gets out of the tub to chase you but before he can do that, you run out of the bathroom.

-

YOU: I'm just a little concerned about how everyone is going to react [hisses air]

-

It's another workshop for the boys and you're hanging out in the bedroom to escape the harsh sunlight at this hour of day.

You're on the bed with Avery and she's trustworthy enough to you, you feel like you can share about the infraction you did last night with her.

"How mad everyone will be when they know I did something last night?" You whisper to Avery, talking against the loud chat of Nya and Gwen on the other bed.

Avery tries to suppress her surprise and glares at you, "Depends..."

She puts her hair away to get more of the details, "What did you do?" She asks with a curious smile.

You can't recall last night without laughing and Avery patiently waits until you stop to tell her about it.

"What? What did you do?" She gets even more curious, dying to know what makes you laugh like that.

You catch a breath to calm yourself and hesitate to tell her everything about it, mostly because you want to spare Han from the shame.

"We almost had sex last night," you speak in a hushed tone.

Avery's mouth is gaping open and her hand flies to her mouth to cover it, "almost?"

You nod in confirmation.

It gets exciting to her that she leans in closer, not letting anyone hear about this and keeping this between the two of you, "What happened?"

To be honest, you have no idea how things went last night next thing you know you were naked under the duvet and you were all over each other.

"We kissed and got carried away... in the middle of it we just kind of stopped, you know," you tell her, not letting her in on the major plot twist.

"Oh?" She gasps.

"I couldn't remember how many times we kissed," you truthfully tell her.

She squints her eyes at you, "It's that good, huh?"

You chuckle at that and shake your head, "We got carried away and just didn't think of the rules at that moment."

Avery licks her lower lips and starts fiddling with the end of her braided hair, "I think they will be mad at how much money you spent on it," she says.

You may not remember how many times you kissed but you know it's worth a lot of money, "Yeah..." you agree even though you're in an impending doom.

"Everyone wouldn't be as pissed if they were still a lot of money to spend but babe, we barely have anything left," she reminds you.

Hearing that makes you feel worse about it and you regret telling anyone about it.

-

YOU: I... [rubs temples] I hope Lana goes easy on me [nervously laughs]

-

What is his problem, really?

Isn't it clear that he shouldn't be flirting with someone's girl blatantly like this? Han needs to do an intervention so he walks over to you, putting his arms around you in a possessive way.

"I've been looking for you, you sexy little minx!" He murmurs with a kiss on your neck.

Han glances at Ed and stares at him until he turns away, leaving you alone like he wanted.

You take his wine glass and steal a sip of his wine, giving the glass back to him afterward. While holding him close, you bring your mouth close to his ear to ask, "Do you think Lana will drop the bomb today?"

You seem more nervous than usual and he starts to think that perhaps it's a good idea that the two of you didn't end up having sex last night.

He sips his drink before talking, "I think so."

"I think everyone is going to be fuming," you tell him with a nervous laugh.

Han wants to sound convincing but he can't lie to you, you know that he's just as nervous, only that he masks it well.

"We got each other," he says.

And that's the only thing he can promise you, that no matter what happens, you can rely on him as much as he relies on you.

You look at him and smile, "I know."

If it wasn't for the stupid rules, he would have kissed your lips but for now, he settles with a kiss on your cheek.

-

HAN: I hope that despite the rule breaks we did, everyone didn't think that what we have is purely physical.

-

It's too early for you to relax but the night is getting late and you have drank all the three glasses of wine you're allowed to have for the day.

You're lounging in the firepit with Mikaela and Rio and Gwen being the chatty girl she is, sharing a funny story with everyone.

It's moments like this that you'll be missed once you leave the retreat.

Somehow your mind wanders too far off and you start thinking about life outside the retreat. It's hard in this retreat because of the rules but you think it's going to be a lot harder in the outside world.

You look at Han as he laughs at Asher's joke and hits by a wave of sadness that this is going to end soon. What you're afraid of the most is the change, things will change once this ends.

You kiss his cheek and it takes him by surprise, "What's that for?"

You smile then look away, "I just wanted to."

Han puts his hand on your neck and presses a long kiss on your cheek, not letting go until he runs out of breath.

"I wanted to do that," he says once he pulls away and places another kiss on your temple.

"Ugh, stop being so cute!" Mikaela says with a hint of jealousy.

"That's why she likes me, I'm cute," Han proudly says with his gummy smile.

Catching everyone off their guard, Lana chimes in and tells everyone to gather in the cabana.

-

YOU: I am shitting it [laughs uncontrollably]

-

The anxiety kicks in and your body turns rigid no matter how much Han is trying to relax you by placing rubs on your back.

Han knows how to play calm but you, you're just bad at hiding your anxiety. Your jaws are clenched, your foot is nervously tapping the floor and your fingers are picking at the ripped hole on Han's jeans.

When the melodic chime comes in, your heart drops.

"I must inform you that there's a breach of the rules," Lana informs.

And it's a bad thing when she talks without greeting first, that means she's not pleased, Lana is mad.

"Okay, you guys know what to do," Finn says with a tense expression on his face.

"Not us," Rio couldn't deny the allegation faster, shifting everyone's attention away from them.

You feel like wanting to shrink into a microscopic size and just disappear, however, you must face it, owning up to your mistakes.

Avery secretly glances at you with a subtle knowing smile on her face, probably trying to tell you that it's best to come forward.

You look at Han and he smiles at you, he then looks the other way and says, "It was me."

Mikaela dramatically gasps and looks at you, "What did you do?"

You place your hand on his back, letting him know that you're right there with him.

"We kissed a couple of times," he replies to her.

You hate to add to it but you must tell them everything, "A bit of heavy petting too."

"How many times is a couple of times?" Fabian asks.

You sense that things are heating and you remind yourself to keep calm, "We got a little carried away, that's what happened so we're not really sure how many times we did it—"

"What do you mean not sure?" Nya asks.

Han holds your hand to both comfort and strengthen him, "You know it's actually great that we stopped there," Han says.

"What happened?" Asher asks.

Whenever you recall last night, you burst into laughter, and that makes him laugh too. Everyone is just looking at you in confusion.

Han to compose himself first to answer them, "We almost had sex."

"Almost?" Gwen repeated.

"We didn't. Calm your knickers down!" You didn't mean to be snarky but well.

Asher is the only one having fun with this information, "You shouldn't have beaten one out yesterday, bro!"

Everyone is laughing and you throw your arms around him, feeling embarrassed for him but at the same time, wanting to comfort him.

Han looks at the staff and asks, "Can I call my mom?"

Everyone's laugh dies down as Lana drops the bomb, "Your indiscretion has cost the group $20,000."

The hilarity of the moment evaporates into the air and is replaced by a dark shadow hanging over everyone's heads.

"The prize fund now stands at $45,000," Lana updates.

Avery rubs her temple and loudly sighs, "There's not much left to it," she meekly says.

The guilt is gathering in the pit of your stomach, making you feel sick and a little faint. There's nothing you can say to defend yourself so you keep your head down and stay quiet.

"I asked you to respect my rules and you continued to break them."

-

YOU: Uh-oh! Lana is mad, MAD!

-

"I'm setting you to the ultimate test to see if you can adhere to my retreat rules under the most trying circumstances."

Test? Han has never been good at tests and not to mention, it's a test from Lana so he knows it wouldn't be easy. It's called a test for a reason.

Also, he doesn't like the sound of the last two words Lana said but they linger in his head far longer than he lets them.

"You will spend the night in the private suite."

Han exchanges a nervous glance with you, realizing that the two of you are in deep trouble Lana has to set you both on a test.

The others are either sighing or groaning, they don't like the idea of putting the two of you together in a suite. He hates to think badly of them but he doesn't like their reactions either.

"You trust us though, right?" Han asks them.

There's a shrug, an inaudible answer, and a lot of pessimism that only adds to the animosity in the air, he can't stand it anymore.

Han clicks his tongue and sighs, "Well, thank you for the support you guys," he sneers with a thin smile.

He puts his arm around you because he knows you're the only one on his team.

"Please make your way to the private suite," Lana orders.

He couldn't wait to exit this situation and spend the rest of the night with you away from everyone. He offers his hand to help you get up from the bed.

"Hey, Han," Rio calls him.

He turns around to look at him, "Yeah?"

"Don't do things I wouldn't do," he says.

"Is there anything you didn't do?" Han replies back with a grin.

Rio laughs in response and Han leaves the cabana, taking you by the hand to the private suite.

-

HAN: [looks down at his crotch] Just hold on as long as you can, okay? Don't embarrass myself any more than I already have. [Laughs]

-

This is not a bad thing after all.

Han never thought that he'd ever get to see the private suite and now he's here.

He's the first to enter the suite with you trailing behind him, looking around the room that has been set to a sensual setting with candles and rose petals littering the bed.

"Oh, thank you, Lana!" He shouts his gratitude out loud wherever Lana is.

Carefully, he hoists you with his two arms, attempting to carry you like newlyweds. You squeal as he struggles to get you to bed and he ends up, sending both of you collapsing onto the bed.

He has you pinned under him, using the chance to admire your beautiful face as he's catching his breath. The temptation to kiss you is so strong and the test barely started yet.

You softly nuzzle your nose against his and put your hand on the back of his head, "I don't want to break rules anymore," you mutter.

As much as he wants to do anything imaginable to you, he doesn't want to let people down anymore, so he agreed. He nods and endearingly caresses your cheek with his knuckle.

"Yeah. Me too," he says, making his mind on the spot.

He allows himself to plant his mouth on your neck, "We're mature. We're adults now. We can do this," he tells you, suddenly feeling optimistic about passing the test.

A grunt falls out of his mouth as you put your legs around his waist. You bring your mouth close to his ear and breathlessly whisper, "But I kind of want to continue last night."

Well, there goes his optimism, leaving his body the second you mutter the idea to him. Fuck continuing last night, he wants a do-over and this is the perfect opportunity to do it.

Suddenly, he feels like doing whatever he wants. He looks at your face that is mere inches away from his, "Oh, yeah, fuck money!"

-

HAN: My head gets a bit naughty when it comes to her. She's just so hot.

-

"Yes, get those titties out," he excitedly says as he watches you taking off your dress.

Han knows you've been wearing nothing underneath but thin black underwear. He feels your naked body against his but it's different now that he sees you with his own eyes and admires it as much as he wants.

With his body soaked in the warm water, Han rests his head on the edge of the tub, he's biting his lower lip as he watches you pulling your underwear down your legs.

"How are you so hot, baby?" He asks you in disbelief.

You're giggling seeing his wide eyes following you as you get into the tub, sitting down on the other end of the tub.

"We should have a toast," You suggest

"Oh fuck, I left the bottle in the room," he fumbles to get out of the tub.

He's covering his private part with his hand to retrieve the bottle of wine and returns with the bottle clamped under his arm.

You crawl over in the tub to sit on his lap, putting your legs around him even though you both know it's not a good idea.

"What?" You ask while chuckling.

As if that wasn't enough, you put your arms around his neck, sending your breasts squashed between your chests.

"I want to put my legs around your sexy little waist," you innocently say.

He grabs his drink and gulps it down, you refill it for him to have another toast, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip.

"You know what you look like?" He asks.

You laugh even before he tells you the answer, "What?"

"Like a popsicle," he answers with his hand splashing water onto your shoulder.

He tries to seduce you but he gets an unexpected reaction from you, you laugh instead of getting frisky like he imagined it would be.

"I just want to lick you," he says to you with a flirty wink.

"Lick it then," you encourage him with a seductive smile and a sultry gaze.

He is indeed going to lick you with or without your permission, he lands a long lick up the column of your neck as you tip your head to the side, allowing him to plant his mouth on it.

Can't stop himself, he plants kisses down to your chest and buries his head in there while you're holding him close with your arms around his neck.

As if the water in the tub suddenly risen a few degrees, he feels hot inside and out.

-

HAN: [groans] I'm trying to be good here!!!

-

The two of you don't take things seriously but that doesn't mean that it does nothing when he looks at you with such lustful eyes and you spread your legs open to tease him.

He crawls onto the bed and hovers above you, placing a long kiss on your collarbone, letting it go with a gasp.

Slowly, he puts his body on top of you but propped an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

"Can you resist me?" He asks with a hoarse voice.

You look up at him and nod.

He holds your jaw and puts his thumb on your lips, pulling at it to feel the plush of it.

"Why are you so hot?" He asks in a mix of disbelief and awe.

You smile at his word and let your hands touch his muscular chest. You use only your fingertips to feel the outline of his muscles and down to his stomach where it feels less firm but more softer.

Feeling playful, you pinch at his tummy but it does nothing to him because he's too busy listing over your body. He seems frustrated to not be able to feel you all over and he best believes that you feel the same way too.

"I can't resist you," he says to you with his hot breath brushing your cheek and rubbing his bulging crotch against your thigh.

"What should we do about it?"

You put your hands around him and gently claw at his back, "I'm open to anything," you daringly say.

On one side, you want to fuck it and just do whatever you want but on the other, you really want to prove everyone wrong, that you have a genuine connection with Han.

But God! It's so hard to not touch him when his body is pressed close against yours.

"Let's settle this," Han suddenly says, rolling over to the side to get a rose from the bedside table.

He sets a pillow against the headboard of the bed and invites you to sit next to him. You eagerly snuggle to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I pick one, then you pick one," he says, holding the rose between him and you.

Han starts first, picking a petal off the rose then says, "Have sex."

You let out a chuckle before taking your turn, pulling at the rose petal, "Don't have sex."

He goes next, picking another petal and tossing it away, "Have sex."

"Don't have sex," you mutter while throwing away the rose petal to the back.

"Have sex."

"Don't have sex."

You continue taking turns stripping away the petals off the rose until there are a few left. You rip one off and leave one last petal on the rose.

Han grins knowing the result of his unusual way of settling the matter, he gladly picks the last petal off with a sly smile on his face and says, "Have sex."

You both look at each other as he seductively gazes into your eyes with a smirk dancing on his face. How can you say no when he's intensely looking into your eyes with so much want in his eyes?

-

YOU: Ugh! This is torture.

-

Han shrugs and then throws the bare rose away, pulling you close with his hand holding the back of your thighs. He deeply looks into your eyes as he mutters, "Even the universe wants us to have sex."

You snort at the way he put it and continue laughing as he tickles your neck with his nose.

"Take your clothes off!"

"No!"

You manage to break away from his hold and roll over to the side, taking something from the tray of sex toys on the bedside table.

Bring it with you, you're straddling him on the bed, and place a hand on his chest to hold him down.

"You've been very, very bad," you tell him and hit him with the leather flogger on his arms.

"Ow!" He yelps in pain.

His hand flies to rub the skin, "That hurts!" He grumbles.

"You're supposed to feel the pleasure in the pain," you tell him, tickling his chest with the flogger.

"No," He shakes his head, "It's just pain."

You both break into laughter at the same time yet you continue flogging him, this time, doing it gentler to not hurt him.

"Who's your mommy, huh?"

"My mom," he answers.

"Wrong answer!" You hit him on the ribs with the flogger.

You lean in close and try again, "Are you my good boy?"

He holds you by the waist and nods, "Yes, I am," he answers

"But I don't want a good boy," you say with a pout.

"I'm a bad boy," he changes his mind almost immediately.

You lean in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips as he speaks, "How bad?"

"Very bad!"

"Really?"

"Yeah..." he breathlessly says.

You pull away and slyly smile at him, brushing his chest with the end of the flogger, then put it away. You prop a hand against the mattress to hover above him, leaving a few inches between your faces.

"A bad boy is not afraid to break rules," you say with a soft caress on his cheek.

He's gripping your waist as your leg rubs at his inner thigh, "Yeah..."

"Are you bad enough to break the rules?" You ask him with a soft, wet kiss on his jaw.

"Yeah..." his voice is slightly quivering and teasing him like this makes you hornier than before.

You prop your other hand on the bed, caging his body in between your arms and looking down at him with his eyes wide and dark with lust.

"Take your clothes off!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

-

YOU: Let's say... we had a lot of fun [smirks]

-

It's too early or you personally think it is.

You force your eyes open and see that the curtains are already open, showing it's bright outside. Instead of waking up, you snuggle close to Han as he's still soundly sleeping next to you.

Without opening his eyes, he draws you closer and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"We should get up," you sleepily tell him with your eyes still closed.

"Mmh..." he answers with a hum.

You turn your head to give him a morning kiss on the cheek, greeting him once you pull away, "Morning, sexy man."

He puts his arm around you, trying to make you stay snuggle close to him. He eventually gives in and takes your hand to hold instead.

You grab your water tumbler and take a big sip before sitting on the bed, letting Han rest his head on your lap. You put your hand in his air and play with his tousled hair.

"You were so sexy last night," you mutter.

That gets his ear perking up and his head turns to look at you, "I know," he confidently says.

"So hot," you emphasize the word with a heavy sigh.

Han turns over to lay face up with his head still resting on your lap so he can look at you, "Let's not go back."

You hold his head with both hands and gently squeeze his cheeks with your fingers, "You want to stay here?"

"Mmh," he says, placing his hands on yours.

This moment feels tender and intimate, you rarely get a moment like this with everyone in the retreat so to finally be able to be alone with him and fully enjoy each other's presence, you feel a lot more closer than ever.

"I don't mind staying here," you say with a nonchalant shrug and another squeeze on his squishy cheeks.

"Give me a kiss!" He cutely demands with his lips puckered.

To compensate for not being able to kiss him on the lips, you kiss him on both cheeks.

-

YOU: Wake up this morning feeling great and amazing. I just can't wait to share my happiness with everyone [smiles]

-

"Hello, Negative Nancy's!" Han pokes fun at everyone as he leads you into the cabana.

They look rather tense for his joke that no one is laughing at it. Probably because not only that it still early in the morning, but they're haunted by the possibility that they may lose more money today.

Especially after seeing that you're wearing his shirt with a radiant smile on your face. He reckons everyone already thinks that they have lost the money that isn't even theirs in the first place.

To be exact, no one owns it yet.

"How was your night, bro?" Asher asks, looking rugged with his long hair tied in a messy bun.

"Fucking great!" He answers without a beat, putting everyone on the edge of their seats with it.

He turns his head at you and asks, "It was fun, yeah?"

You nod with the smile not wearing off of your face, "It was nice and romantic, there were candles and roses and champagne..." you add.

He can see that Gwen is quietly rolling her eyes either in jealousy or displeased with what she heard. But Han is having fun teasing them and so are you.

"Did you do something?" Nya asks with her hand propped under her head.

Han glances at you then lets out a long sigh, "We're not sure..."

Mikaela gets triggered by it, "What do you mean by that?"

He puts his arm around you and puts on a cryptic smile, "We did a lot of things," he says.

"We used a sex toy or two," you egg on it, playing along with his scheme.

"We're just not sure if they were rule breaks or not," he says with a nonchalant shrug.

There are groans and sighs, it seems that he's succeeded at annoying them. He then looks at the cone sitting in the middle of the table.

"Let's just ask Lana!" He simply resolves.

Not long after, Lana comes with that melodic chime that twists everyone's stomach and makes them sit up straight in their seats.

"Hello, everyone," Lana begins with her usual greeting.

Most of everyone is half-heartedly replying to her while Han tries to lighten up the mood with a cheery one, "Hello, lovely Lana!"

"Last night, you spent the night in the private suite and were forbidden from any form of physical contact."

He doesn't really need the reminder but sure, Lana is cooking something in here and he hopes it's something good.

"I can reveal that..."

He takes your hand to get your attention and flashes you a goofy smile, he knows no one else is going to have fun with him except you.

For someone who spent the most money in the retreat, Rio looks nervous, Han sees that he puts his hands together as if he were praying.

And for artificial intelligence, Lana knows how to build suspense.

"They did not break the rules," Lana finally announces.

Everyone is cheering and whooping, clapping their hands his way. He never thought that these many people would be happy knowing he didn't get to sleep with the hot girl.

But he allows himself to hug you, congratulating each other for what you achieved together.

"For the record, I trusted you that you two will pass it!" Asher says with a proud smile.

But it doesn't stop there, Lana has another announcement.

"As a reward for passing my test, I'll return the money to the prize fund which now stands at $100,000."

Now everyone is going crazy. The boys are throwing themselves at him and pile on him while he struggles to get away.

-

HAN: Your boy Han did it! [Throws fist in the air]

-

Strangely, you feel good for not having sex with a guy you like but it feels great to see everyone is happy about it.

After all, this was a test to prove to everyone that what you have with Han is genuine, it's meaningful. Nothing feels better than proving everyone wrong.

Everyone is settling down, returning to their seats since Lana has not yet done talking.

"Do you feel that you have made a deeper emotional connection?" Lana asks both of you.

"Yes, absolutely," you reply without a beat.

"A hundred percent, yes," Han answers not long after.

You're busy brushing his messy hair from everyone ruffling and patting his head.

"You probably think that I'm a joker, always joking but what I have with her is serious, it's genuine and I..." he turns his head to look at you, "With us passing the test, it's the proof of that."

This is when you find Han the most attractive when he speaks out with confidence but with all honesty. You believe your eyes have hearts in them as you look at him.

Avery and Gwen are cooing at the same time, melting on their seats and you like seeing jealousy in their eyes.

Everyone else is giving you both a round of applause for being the couple that they never expected to grow this much in this retreat. They probably didn't expect that you would end up with Han.

Taking you by surprise, both of your watches chime and turn green. It takes you a while to register what it means, you slowly turn your head to have his hand cupping your jaw, crashing his lips against you.

The kiss feels so special and rewarding, you allow yourself to be open, pouring all of your heart out into the kiss, ignoring everyone else who is watching and cooing at you.

Dare you say, it feels like a movie scene.

-

YOU: I'm glad that we got the green light and that shows that we have something real. I just can't wait for what comes next to us [smiles]

-

Han is going for a swim on the beach with Rio and Fabian when they get curious about last night.

"Was it hard, man?" Rio asks because the idea of being in a room with a girl and not having sex is a lot for him to comprehend.

"Rock hard," Han immediately replies.

"I bet, I bet," Fabian says while laughing and splashing water onto his toned abs.

They're all laughing with their bodies engulfed in the saltwater, facing the sun that is slowly sinking into the horizon.

"How do you feel about her now?" Fabian asks.

It's surprising to hear the question coming from this God-like man, it makes him look deep into his heart to answer it.

"I feel a lot closer, man," Han honestly says.

Anyone other than you or himself wouldn't get it and comes from him who was once anti-Lana, he can see that he slowly changing his course, he's learning the lesson now.

"I just think we're very similar, we have the same energy, I like little things about her," he stops himself as he's aware he's foolishly smiling as he talks about you.

Fabian is cooing at him and lands a pat on his shoulder.

"I was with a girl once, thought she was everything and she obviously let me down so whenever a girl comes in, I just... can't commit anymore," he doesn't know where it comes from but he feels comfortable to share it with them.

"You don't want to get hurt again, yeah," Rio is nodding along to his words.

"And now I'm here and it's completely changed everything," he says.

Rio takes it that Han is onto something, "So, what do you have in mind?"

Han inhales air as he takes in the beautiful view, "I feel like it's time I make her my girlfriend," he says.

Without warning, Fabian punches his arm almost sending him staggering in the water, he holds Rio's shoulder to steady himself.

"Aw, man..." Rio says, sounding like a proud man.

Not enough by punching his arm, Fabian jumps onto Han's back sending them both falling into the water and Rio joins him to playfully sink him into the water.

-

HAN: It's been a long time since I got close to somebody so this is a big deal for me. I don't know if I have the guts to ask her.

-

Your time in the retreat is coming close to an end and out of all the parts of this big villa, you're going to miss this dressing room the most.

It's not just a room where you do your make-up and hair, but it's also where everyone usually gathers and fools around with each other. So many things happened in this room.

After taking a shower, you decide to may as well start getting ready for the night. You're not the only one having a head start, Gwen is there curling her hair into loose waves that frame her small face.

"I don't know what I'm going to wear tonight," you share as you sit on your chair next to her.

To be honest, you run out of clothes to wear now that the retreat is about to end and you kind of want to look your best.

"You can borrow mine, babes," Gwen kindly offers.

You softly laugh and make fun of yourself, "It would be loose around the chest, I'm afraid."

Gwen has the kind of laugh that sounds more like a shrill and it's filling the room as the two of you continue chatting about things while doing make-up.

Until Han comes into the dressing room and sits across from you. You look away from your mirror to see him, "Hey, pickles."

He slumps on his chair and compliments you out of the blue, "You look gorgeous, babe!"

You lowly chuckle as you keep filling your eyebrows, "I'm not done with my eyebrows yet," you tell him.

Then Han gets quiet and you keep glancing at him because he looks like he has something to say but he seems to hesitate.

You know he has that awkwardness in him but it's not it. Something is off and he looks nervous but he's too afraid to tell you about it.

You're about to open your mouth to ask what it is but the cone in the room chimes, making everyone startled on their seats.

"Oh, fuck, I feel sick when Lana comes on," Gwen says with her hand clutching her chest.

"Hello, guests!" Lana greets.

It makes you nervous still whenever Lana speaks even though you know you don't do anything wrong, "Yes, my darling?"

Then Lana calls both of your names, making your head turn at the cone in the corner of the room. Then you glance at Han, "What have we done now?"

Han who's faintly biting his lower lip shrugs in utter confusion.

"As an existing couple in this retreat, I am sending you on a date for a chance to open up and form a deeper connection."

-

YOU: Oh, finally! Lana came with good news!

-

The first thing that you both do after receiving the news is get off your chairs and run towards each other, you throw yourself at him as he catches you, hoisting you against his body.

"A date! Yay!" You squeal in excitement, then place kisses all over his face.

As Han leaves to get ready for the date, you get back to your seat and can barely do your make-up anymore, you're too excited and at the same time, nervous.

You forgot what you're about to do with your face so you pick up your brush and mindlessly brush some powder onto your forehead and chin.

"I'm excited for you!" Gwen says, sounding more excited than you are.

"Me too," you say with a breathless chuckle.

You put down your brush and pick up a tube of mascara next, your hand is slightly shaking for you to apply it to your lashes.

It's not like you never got on a date before so you don't get why you're so jittery.

-

YOU: Why am I so nervous? We almost had sex once for God's sake!

-

Han regrets acknowledging your beauty a little late.

He can see it now, how radiant you are as you descend down the steps that lead to the beach, looking so stunning in that bright blue dress.

He offers his hand to help you walk down the last three steps and clasps your hand with his.

"I don't want to be an asshole but your tits look great in that dress," he compliments with a naughty smirk.

He knows you're going to laugh from the way you scrunch your nose and there it is, the sound of your laugh that has become one of his favorite sounds in the world.

"I must say your tits look great in that shirt," you compliment back.

A boat is waiting to take both of you, taking you on a trip around the island with the sun slowly yet surely setting for the day.

There are cocktails and a basket of food provided on the back of the boat. You both take a seat facing each other and decide to make a toast to start the date.

"I've never had a date on a boat before," you suddenly share.

It never ceases to amaze him how he keeps sharing common things with you, "Me too."

He takes another sip before adding, "We both won't forget about it then," he says.

You lift your glass, initiating another toast with him, "Cheers to that!"

He's not sure how many percent of alcohol is in that cocktail but he really needs it to gain a little courage to ask the one question that's been bothering him all day and night.

-

HAN: I have to pull it off. I HAVE TO!

-

Well, there's one way to prepare him for the big question. He knows how to ease both the tension and you, well, it's actually just things that he knows are true about you.

"Do you know that you scrunch your nose before you smile? Or laugh?" He asks.

You finish chewing the grape to answer him, "I think, yeah..." you doubtfully answer.

Han also picks a grape and pops it into his mouth, he wants to take his time, doing it right.

"And you also purr like a kitten when you sleep," he adds.

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Is that a compliment?"

He's not sure about that one but he wants to show you that he knows the little details about you. He knows more than just those two, he can list them for you but he's afraid it'll take the whole day.

"It is a compliment," he says with a grin.

He rolls a grape between his fingers, just something to fiddle with because of how nervous he is

"You have to give me a compliment too," he demands.

You stop chewing and lick your lips, "Well, uhm... I like the way you sit with your legs looking like those anime girls," you say, copying the way he sits then break into laughter.

In his defense, he unknowingly sits like that. He laughs it off then says, "You find everything attractive about me."

"That's because you're one big attraction, baby," you immediately respond.

It's a rare occasion that you let your thoughts unfiltered with him and that's good, that means you're comfortable around him.

He seems to like what he heard from the way he's brightly smiling with the soft sunset reflected in his eyes.

"I like that we're not taking things seriously, we do silly things together and I think that's cute," he shares.

You nod and understand that really well, it has not yet sunk in that you found someone like him here of all places.

"It doesn't hit me yet, you know, that I met someone like you," you tell him with a smile.

Then you get hit by a wave of sadness that it's going to end soon and you fear that things are going to change between you.

"All I know is... it's going to be weird not waking up next to you and spending all of our time together," you sadly tell him.

It seems like he reads your mind, he snatches the words you're about to say to him right out of your mouth.

"I'm glad I got to know you," he says with glints in his eyes.

You softly smile at him, "Me too."

But you don't want to keep hanging everything on maybe, you want to know if this can continue outside the retreat. You take a sip of your drink, then take a deep breath after, "It's been so good for us," you say.

You take another sip of your fruity, alcoholic drink to continue talking, "And I'm thinking... what's next?"

You don't want to pressure him, of course, and you don't want to have seemed demanding as well but it has to be made clear.

You look at him with eyes that seek an answer from him, "I'm just hoping that nothing bad happens."

-

YOU: I fall in deep and I don't know whether Han feels the same.

-

Han knows that he's in the trenches when you ask what's next?

The answer to it is at the tip of his tongue but he can't muster up the courage to spit it out. His past experience haunts him, reminding him of the chance that this could hurt him too, even worse than before.

"Obviously, I came bere not expecting to meet someone like you," you say with a smile.

That smile makes him nervous, thinking that he'll never be able to see it again once he popped the question.

You fix your hair from being blown by the wind and tuck it behind your ear. Such a mundane thing but he likes it whenever you do it.

"But I don't want to waste my time anymore, you know," you say.

And he gets nervous again.

"What about you?"

Such a simple question but it takes everything in him to answer that question. He looks back at his past relationship and he realizes that he shouldn't compare it to what you and him have.

And it's you, you're different and you make him happy. Why should he stop seeing someone who makes him happy?

Before he can tell you that, he feels the need to tell you why he hesitates so much and that it has nothing to do with you.

"Ever since my last relationship, I struggled with commitment, attachment... and I don't bother trying knowing it could lead to disappointment," he shares.

You intently listen to him, look him in the eyes, and take every word he says with an open mind.

"I often find myself thinking why put somebody through something that could potentially hurt them?"

You nod in understanding, "Yeah."

"My problem is I fear heartbreak," he confesses.

 It's one thing to share a piece of his past with you but letting you know his fear... he's basically handing you the power over him.

Despite the things he shared with you, you tip your head to the side and adorably scrunch your nose at him.

"How about now?" You ask.

A wind blows, sending your hair caught between your lips and you take a moment to put all of your hair away, "Are you ready to commit?"

Han doesn't see heartbreak, he sees happiness in you so he nods.

-

HAN: I've got a funny feeling... I'm overthinking the situation, but I know it's the right time.

-

You have never seen him like this, so terribly quiet and still. You place your hand on his and crack a low laugh, "Why are you nervous?"

Han always knows how to lighten up the moment or make fun of something, it seems like he has lost that skill at the moment.

Then he stares deeply into your eyes with a tense and serious expression on his face.

"There's a question I've been wanting to ask you," he says.

Maybe it's your turn to ease the tension, you bat your eyelashes at him and cutely ask, "Oh, really?"

You can see that he's still nervous, his Adam's apple is bobbing in his throat from swallowing air.

"Uhm... this whole experience has been enjoyable because of you. You're lovely, you're beautiful inside and out..."

There are a lot of compliments in one sentence and ignoring the anxiety tinted his words, you coo in response.

He gulps air again then asks, "How'd you feel about being my girlfriend?"

Not that he can't act this gentlemanly but it takes you by surprise, it feels like he's pulling a joke on you. Maybe it is?

"You're joking..." you say with a dry laugh.

"I'm being serious!" He says with so much urgency.

You just need to ask one more time to be sure, "You're really asking me to be your girlfriend?"

He aggressively nods, "Yeah."

Han sees that you're still doubting him, he tries again but more candidly, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Can't tell if it's the wind or that you're deeply touched by this heartfelt moment, you feel tears in the corner of your eyes. You gently dab it with the pad of your fingers to not ruin your make-up.

"Oh, my god," you breathlessly gasp.

You look at him and he's still waiting for your answer in anticipation, you nod, then say, "Yes."

This is the weirdest thing ever but most endearingly. You feel warm and ecstatic but the two of you just sit there, looking at each other, laughing.

You almost forget about it until they chime, you turn your wrist to see that it's indeed green.

Han notices it too, he then gets up and takes your hand, he pulls you close to lean in, kissing you with so much love.

Your heart is shaking and the content is pouring out of it yet it never empties. Your heart is overflowing with warm feelings.

And his lips are just as warm, as welcoming as his embrace.

When he pulls away, he delightfully sighs.

"Fuck yeah, I finally have a girlfriend!" He mutters against your lips before planting another kiss.

-

YOU: My God! I can't stop smiling it's so stupid [gleefully smiles]

-

Other than you, Lana is also sending Rio and Mikaela on a date but you're the first one to come back. You find everyone is getting ready for the last party in the retreat tonight.

"Oh, they're back from the date!" Avery delightfully gasps at the sight of you walking into the room while holding hands with Han.

"Oh, my God! How was the date?" Gwen asks, propping both hands under her head.

Nya puts down her eyebrow pencil and glances at you, "Tell us all about it!" She demands.

You sit down on your chair first before speaking and Han takes the seat next to you, "We got on a boat and we had pretty cocktails, it was gorgeous," you tell them.

Asher walks into the room to plop onto the small sofa in the corner of the room, "Oh, I'm so jealous!" He says in a sincere tone.

"Then it got pretty serious, don't you think?" Han asks you.

"Yeah, it was," you say with a small nod.

You don't know how to tell them without making it like a cringe moment, you feel silly but also excited to share it with them.

"This guy asked me a funny question at the end," you say with a cryptic smile.

Everyone shifts their attention to Han and they wait for one of you to continue the words. You look at Han and decide to break the news.

"He asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend," you tell them.

There's a collective gasp and Avery's jaws are hanging open, so invested in your storytelling.

"What did you say?" Nya asks you.

You wait for a moment to tease them, building the anticipation in the room. Then again, good news should be shared.

"I said yes," you finally answer.

The next thing you know, everyone is coming at you and congratulating you with a group hug. You look at Han and he's being smothered by Asher's hug.

"I'm so happy for you," Avery says, sounding like she's in tears as she's hugging you from the back.

After everyone takes their turn to congratulate both of you, you and Han exchange a long hug, feeling overwhelmed with happiness.

"You two are so cute!" Gwen comments.

You turn around to face her and Han holds you from the back, "No, but I've been wanting to tell him how much I like him and obviously, I've been keeping it to myself because I was afraid he didn't feel the same way," you honestly share.

You remember just feeling so smitten, falling in deeper but you can't say anything about it because the fear of being rejected or the possibility that your feelings are not being reciprocated is bigger than what your heart can contain.

"This is like... the cutest thing ever!" Avery says with an exciting squeal.

"We also got a green light earlier," Han shares.

"Has a few snogs, eh?" Fabian says, joining in late into the celebration.

"Definitely!" Han shamelessly shares.

-

YOU: Things couldn't be more perfect. I'm the happiest I've ever been [smiles]

-

Everyone is wearing white to match the theme of the party.

You look so gorgeous in that white, skin-tight dress he can't help but ogle as you lean close to the mirror on the bathroom sink, fixing your hair with your back slightly arched.

"Fuck..." Han says with so much frustration in his voice.

You glance away from the mirror to look at him, "What?"

"Stop looking so hot!" He holds you from the back, then playfully bites at your bare shoulder.

It seems like you are already immune to this, you're not bothered to scold but continue fixing your hair and secure it with hairpins.

Han looks at your reflection in the mirror and he can't believe that you're his girlfriend, it feels like a reality check but it's as good as his imagination.

How the fuck you said yes to being his girlfriend? He doesn't know but he's happy, he's over the moon.

"Do you like it?" You ask.

He knows you're asking about either your hair or your make-up or the whole look but everything looks good on you.

"Yes," he answers, tightening his hold around you.

You rest your head against his shoulder and also look at both of your reflections in the mirror, "You look so sexy with your hair pushed back," you compliment.

He presses a kiss on your temple, "yeah?"

You slightly turn your head to look at him, "Mmh, yeah."

This proximity is dangerous and your lips are only inches away from him, they're coated with red lipstick, making them look luscious, inviting him to kiss.

"Kiss?" He asks even though he knows you wouldn't risk money on the last night in the retreat.

Yet you puckering your lips at him, teasing him and he does the same, leaning in close until you dodge away.

"It would be funny though to lose money on the last night in the retreat," he says with a playful grin.

It seems like Lana is letting everyone off for the day and not interrupting the party as usual. It's a little suspicious but Han wants to spend the rest of his time in the retreat not caring about anything but enjoying the moment.

Rio comes through to give him a pat on the back, "Heard you got a girlfriend now," he teases him.

It hasn't registered to him yet that he has a girlfriend now, he stifled a nod, "Hell yeah, I am!"

They exchange a side hug and have a toast with their drinks. Rio seems happy so he assumes the date went really well and he wonders if he took things further with Mikaela.

"I can say the same thing to you, right?" He says to him with a sly smile.

Rio licks his lips after taking a sip of his drink, "I dropped the L bomb, bro, it was nerve-wracking," he says, wiping his moist forehead.

"Wow, that's..." Han can't find a word to say to that.

"That's a big deal!" He finally continues.

"Yeah," Rio says, taking another gulp with a smile on his face.

Looking back at it, he can see that everyone is going on their own journey, something has changed about them in the best way possible.

Han can see the change in himself too.

He came as someone with a closed heart. He thought that he couldn't love again and he would rather be on his own for the rest of his life.

But now, he's ready to leave the retreat as an open person and ready to love again.

-

HAN: I've been bottling things up and I feel like the retreat helps me get back, it's almost like a fresh start. Also, I'm leaving with a girlfriend [smiles]

-

Seeing him already tucked in the bed, you can't help but jump and startle him as he lies with his eyes closed.

Han draws you closer, planting his nose in your hair then kisses the top of your head, "I'm so tired."

You hum with your head resting on his chest, "Me too."

His hand is softly rubbing your back, putting you at ease and making you feel safe in his hold. Remembering that it's going to be the last night in the retreat, you suddenly feel melancholic.

You're going to miss this, not caring about anything else but making deeper connections with each other. You lift your head and plant your chin to look at him, "This will be the last time we share a bed," you sadly tell him.

With eyes still closed, he shakes his head, "We'll still share a bed after this," he says.

Han opens his eyes just to wink at you and you chuckle at that.

"I mean, in this retreat," you correct yourself.

You slip your hand in his hair and play with it as you look at him, "Honestly, I didn’t expect this.

He rests his hand on your waist, "Expect what?"

"That we'll be together," you reply with giggles.

Now that the retreat is almost over, you can't help but recall a few moments from the time you've spent in this retreat.

"Be honest, you didn't even think you'd fall for me, did you?" You press him with a question.

Han looks too embarrassed to admit it, he laughs it off because he knows you're right

"You wouldn't fall for me either, right?" He turns the table back at you.

You lean in and kiss him on the cheek, "That's because you're so cute," you tell him with another kiss on his other cheek.

"Also, you weren't easy to win over," he adds as he gently squeezes the flesh on your waist.

You nod, admitting that you were indeed so hard to open up to him. You have to give him props for that so you give him a long kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," you sincerely thank him.

He proudly smiles and looks at you, "Kiss me then," he sweetly asks with a pout.

"You're cute," you tell him.

You lean into the side of his head to whisper, "But not that cute."

Without warning, he catches you with both arms and pulls you close, not letting you get away from him.

And you're not planning to get away from him.

-

YOU: When I came here, I was very closed and I didn't want to let anyone in but I feel like Han has helped me with it, I let my guard down and let him in which I'm proud I did.

-

Lana chimes the moment the lights are on in the morning.

It's like you're used to getting anxious at the sound of it, your body turns rigid even though you've just woken up.

"Good morning, everyone!" She greets.

You clutch the duvet close to your chest and rub the sleep off your eyes, "Morning, Lana!"

"Welcome to the last day of the retreat!"

It feels real now that Lana said it, you finally come to the last day of the retreat and it's so bittersweet, it's almost like graduation day. Well, talking about graduating from a sexless retreat, that's an achievement!

You see that everyone is feeling sentimental as well with the way some of them are replying with sad groans.

"I will be announcing who the finalists are shortly," Lana informs.

And you almost forgot about the prize money.

Well, you gained a lot of things such as emotional growth, friendship, and love, and those things can't be valued in money so in the end, everyone wins something out of this retreat.

Everyone seems to think the same way, they're mostly focused on making the last day count.

"It's the last day!" Finn emphasizes it for everyone.

"Let's make it count!" Avery says to everyone with a cheery smile.

Everyone starts their day with positive energy and soaking up everything before their time in the retreat ends. You did your daily routine of swimming at the beach and getting ready for the day with the girls in the dressing room.

Lana wants everyone to the cabana later in the afternoon and then you catch a few chats about who's going to win the money.

To be honest, you have no idea because everyone is going through their own journey so you can't really judge.

You decide to spend the remaining time in the retreat by cuddling in the hammock with Han, just enjoying a peaceful moment together in comfortable silence.

However, you can't help but ask him, "Who do you think is going to win?"

He squints from the bright sun, "It could be anyone," he answers.

"Yeah."

"I don't really care about the money," he remarks, his fingers lightly pinching at your arm.

"Yep, me too," you agree with him on this.

He turns his head to look at you, "I got the most beautiful girl in here," he says with his flirty wink of his.

"You meant to say that to Avery," you tell him with a gentle slap on his chest.

"No," he quickly denies.

He holds your face and looks into your eyes, "I win the biggest prize of all."

He pretends to groan in disgust after saying that, aware of how corny it is.

"Cringe!" You say but with a foolish smile on your face.

"I know you like it," he says, pulling your head close to his neck.

And you stay like that with him, taking in the view while in each other's embrace.

-

YOU: I learned a lot in this retreat so I wouldn't feel sad leaving without the money [smiles]

-

It's finally time.

Everyone's curiosity is about to be answered soon because Lana is going to announce the finalists soon. Han tries not to think about the money and indeed, the possibility that he can win it is slim but hey, he wouldn't say no to receive that much money.

The melodic chime finally comes and he can feel his tummy churning in anxiety.

"Definitely not going to miss hearing that," Fabian says with a repulsed expression.

"Hello, everyone," Lana begins.

"Hi, Lana!" You reply as you sit up straight next to him.

"I've been collecting data since you arrived and have now conducted my final analysis."

He tries not to be so nervous but it feels as if he's not in control of his body anymore, he's unknowingly balling his hands into fists on his lap.

"As you are aware, there was a prize fund of $200,000 allocated to aid your development. The prize fund now stands at $100,000."

"That's a lot of money, isn't it?" Asher says, looking at the brighter side of things even though everyone has lost half of the initial prize money.

Han doesn't want to entertain the idea of winning the money but also, but the possibility is there, it's wide open. Not trying to lie but that much money is life-changing.

"There are three places in the final," Lana informs.

Everyone coos in wonder, heads are turning to silently guess who would make the list.

"Following my rules alone isn't enough to win. The finalists are those who have shown the most personal growth during their time at the retreat."

That only confirms his assumption that it's not only about couple growth, therefore, his chance to win is bigger.

"The first finalist is... Rio."

Rio gets up from the sofa as everyone claps in joy for him.

Han couldn't be happier to hear that his close friend is one of the finalists and that means he has changed into a better version of himself.

It's getting tense once again as Lana is about to announce the next finalist.

"The second finalist is... Asher."

This one is kind of unexpected and he doesn't mean it in a bad way. Asher has grown so much personally but he's mostly proud because Lana acknowledged the changes in him.

"The third and final finalist is... "

Han is losing hope but that doesn't mean he's not happy about it. He's happy whether he wins or not, he reminds himself of that by looking at you softly smiling at him.

Then, Lana calls both of your names.

He shoots up from his seat, "What?"

"You guys deserve it!" Portia says as she hugs you.

And Han is getting a hug from Fabian, confirming that Lana did call his name and yours.

-

HAN: I did not see this coming [lightly shakes head]

-

"Please stand!" Lana orders.

Han helps you get up from the sofa and holds you close by his side. You're wiping the corner of your eyes when he looks at you.

"I'm emotional already," you say with a quivering voice.

You look the most beautiful when you're vulnerable like this so he hugs you with both of his arms around you.

"Your relationship has helped you both grow equally as individuals," Lana says.

You both are listening to Lana listing the reasons why you got chosen to be one of the finalists as a couple.

"You both came in as horny singles and began your journey as friends. Despite having commitment issues, you slowly built a connection and have learned to commit and formed a loving relationship."

He looks at you and can see the journey you both went through to get to this point, he couldn't be proud that he has made all of these decisions that led him to this, to you.

"And that is why I have chosen you to be in the final as a couple," Lana concludes.

Everyone is cheering and clapping for all the finalists.

"One of the three finalists will walk away with $100,000 and the decision will be made by the remaining guests."

At the end of the day, it's up to the group to choose who wins the prize money. Of course, Lana is the one with power but everyone knows each other personally and therefore, they know which one has made the biggest improvements.

"Will the shortlisted guests please the cabana whilst the voting takes place," Lana instructed.

-

HAN: We never thought we'd get this far, did we?

YOU: Not at all.

-

The finalists are being gathered in the front yard.

Rio and Asher are taking seats on the bean bags so the two of you can take the small sofa to sit together.

"I can't believe we're here," Rio says, still in disbelief.

Asher brushes his long hair to the back, "I'm happy to just be here with you guys," he says with a gruff voice.

Han looks speechless as well, he hasn't said anything since Lana announced both of your names as the last finalist.

"It's... mad!" He finally says something, rather sounds still in disbelief as well.

You look at them and feel grateful already that you're surrounded by nice people.

"How do you feel?" Asher asks, curious as to why you stay quiet.

"I feel like a winner already to be honest," you reply.

After almost half an hour of waiting under the sun that is slowly sinking into the horizon, the cone lights up and chimes.

You get used to getting nervous whenever you hear it but this time, you unconsciously grip at Han's forearm.

"Hello, finalists," Lana greets.

"Yes, darling?" Rio answers her.

"Your fellow guests have voted and a winner has been decided," Lana informs.

The tension is rising once again and Han turns to be the nervous one, grabbing your hand and squeezing at it.

"Please join everyone on the beach where I will announce who has won the $100,000."

Asher is the first one to get up from his seat, flipping his hair to the side as he says, "Okay guys, let's go!"

As you both make your way to the beach, Han leans into your ear and whispers, "My palms are sweaty. I'm shaking," his voice is tinted with anxiety.

You smile at him and say, "I know."

-

HAN: I'm grateful for how this retreat has changed me and our relationship.

YOU: [Nods] Fingers crossed!

HAN: [Crosses fingers]

-

Everyone else is already waiting by the beach for the last hurrah with the sun setting behind them, casting a warm glow on their faces.

Han knows he shouldn't be stressing much about this. Winning the money isn't that important, it's what he takes from this retreat that is the most important.

He takes a seat on the long wooden bench with you and waits for Lana to come online.

After a while, that anxiety-inducing chime comes and the cone starts talking.

"During your time at the retreat, I have observed you all commit to the process and show significant changes."

Everyone nods in agreement and cheers to that with a proud face.

"The time has now come to announce the winner of the $100,000 prize money," Lana says.

She then calls all the names of the finalists, including him and yours.

"Finalists, please stand!" Lana instructs.

Rio and Asher are standing up while Han keeps on pulling you close to his side even though there's no space left between your bodies.

"Your fellow guests have voted and the person in third place is..."

It's getting to him now that you and him potentially going to win that money and it's a lot of money. He gets overwhelmed thinking of it.

"Asher."

His head turns to the left where Asher stands, applauding himself for what he has achieved in here and you both doing the same for him, congratulating him for it.

"I love you guys," Asher says in the most nonchalant yet cool way.

The tension returns as Lana continues with the announcement, calling the names of the finalists again and making him feel faint.

"One of you has been chosen to walk out of the retreat with the prize fund..." Lana reminds.

The money, well, the money, obviously would help with this new relationship. Then again, it's not about the money.

-

HAN: No matter what happens, I feel like I'm a better person after meeting her and yeah, I'm actually proud of myself and I don't often say that about myself.

YOU: [Looks at Han] I'm proud of you.

HAN: [Smiles] I'm proud of you.

-

"The winner who will be leaving with $100,000 is..."

His heart feels like it's about to explode, he can't contain this much anxiety and excitement and love and fondness, everything is mixed inside his chest.

And it explodes as Lana announces him and you as the winner.

"Oh, my god!" You shriek, covering your gaping mouth with your hands.

Everyone is running at him, throwing themselves at him while the girls are coming at you to give you a hug.

"I wanted it to be you guys so congrats!" Avery says as she hugs him.

But seeing you keep wiping your eyes as they're glassy with tears, Han feels the urge to comfort you. He comes to you, holding you tight because this moment belongs to you and him, the two of you did this.

-

HAN: Can you believe it?

YOU: Honestly, no.

HAN: We went from nothing to friends and now... [Looks at you]

YOU: [Giggles] Now... what?

HAN: ... [Shyly laughs] [Hugs you]

-

"Your time at the retreat is over and therefore the rules no longer apply," Lana announces for the last time.

Everyone is cheering in triumph but he feels good knowing that he can touch you, kiss you, and do anything he pleases to you now.

But for now, he can settle with a long, lingering kiss that quench his thirst.

"I'm not wearing underwear," you playfully tell him.

His hand goes down your rear and feels you through the dress you're wearing, his eyes widen even though he finds out that you're lying

"We can definitely have a quickie if you want," you jokingly say.

Feeling tricked, he aggressively kisses you as a way to get back at you and lifts you before spinning you around as his body is filled with euphoria.

The celebration continues with more congratulations passed around at each other and the champagne bottle is popped open.

Asher comes to you and sincerely congratulates you with a warm hug, "I'm happy for both of you," he says.

He then looks at Han and says, "Han, I'm going to steal your girlfriend!"

Before Han can say anything, Asher hoists you onto his shoulder and takes you running with him to the beach, then he puts you down in the water.

Soon everyone joins in with you, continuing the party soaked in salt water. You eventually find Han and immediately locked in a loving kiss.

You both face the sunset, looking at it and feeling so hopeful for what the future holds for both of you.

-

HAN: No more rules!

YOU: [Whispers to Han] How about we continue that night?

HAN: Ah... [Smirks]

YOU: [Giggles]

HAN: [Looks at the camera] Now will you excuse us because we have business to finish!

-

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[simpjaes]

i try to not indulge in the idea of stepcest cause it feels so wrong but i need to admit to someone that it’s just so…mmmm. it’s a guilty pleasure soooo let me send this ask before u go crazy heehee

stepbro jay would be one of those guys whose so respectful and nice to everyone but really he’s the worst. during your first family dinner after you and your mom move in with him and his dad, he sits right next to you and keeps his hand on your thighs while laughing with his dad and your mom. later on in the night he comes to your room pretending he wants to talk to you but he actually has you face down ass up, with your face shoved in a pillow so your moans and screams are muffled. he’s so arrogant and mean to you because you’re just an easy access fucktoy for him 🤭

sorry this is being answered so late! anyway, i get that you feel like it's wrong but here on this blog, we support fiction being like, yknow, not fuckin' real.

wc: 1.6k

note: jay and reader are in college living with their good ol' very in love parents. warnings: stepcest, jay is kinda rough lol, use of the word slut

step bro jay appearing like the perfect son and the perfect brother for you?? Your mom always thought you needed some type of male energy in your life that didn't involve boyfriends or her failed boyfriends, and she was really happy to learn how much he enjoyed being around when she and jay's dad eventually got serious and wanted to settle down.

it was a win/win. Your mother no longer needed to overwork herself to take care of herself and you, and you now had someone to lean on too.

And lean on him you did.

What your mother didn't know was the instant attraction you had to Jay. You're a young woman after all, freshly twenty two and so fucking ready to mingle since your last boyfriend was an awful lay. God, if only you had met Jay before your mom fucked his dad. like, for real.

And what Jay's dad didn't know is that he raised an absolute slut. Jay knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he would be encouraging his father to keep it up with your mom. Why? So he can be around you, of course, so he can see if you'd be willing to let him play with you a little bit.

Now though? he's learned that you're moving in alongside your mother and he didn't protest for even a moment. Hell, he practically moved you into your new room himself, trying to officially get on your good side since by this time, the two of you have only gotten to hang out five or six times, and never alone.

~

The first time Jay cornered you was a little surprising, as you thought you were the only one with a sneaky little crush on him. You remember it like it was yesterday (because it was like the same night you moved in).

He was moving the last box into your room as you sat on your floor organizing a small box of knick knacks. Your mother was outside with his father attempting to move in a large vanity that both you and Jay knew would take some time without their help.

"You seemed excited when they told us you were moving in--" Jay starts, sitting down the box and standing in front of you, looking down at you until you make eye contact. "Why?"

You shrug, blinking up and tilting your head.

"It's just nice to see her happy, I guess?" You offer.

"Bullshit, I've seen you checking me out." He says snidely, crouching down to your level and swiveling his head a bit to get a real good look at your face.

Before you can deny it, he smiles and continues.

"You know, I'm kinda into it."

And then he walked out, leaving you there with a crush that grew just a bit more.

The second time he cornered you was after a shower, shortly before one of your classes started. He stepped out of his room the same time you stepped out with dampened skin sticking to your t-shirt. No pants, no bra, just the shirt and panties.

You really should have considered that you live in a house with men now. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it is, anyone could be awake. And of course, Jay was awake.

He stopped in his tracks to check out your legs. Entirely blatant about it before walking up to you. You stumbled back a step, straight into the bathroom as he continued to walk closer and closer. Up until you were against the counter, he was smiling, and then brushed his hand by your waist to grab his toothbrush behind you with a small and cocky whisper of "god, you looked so ready for me to do something else, didn't realize you were that desperate."

So, that was something that stuck in your brain for like, way too long.

The third time was when he did do something else. Your mother was at work, his father too, and you had just gotten home from class. Normally, you've learned that Jay takes classes much later than you do, but he was home today.

God, he was definitely home.

With his hand down his pants.

On your bed.

And, well, you can argue that's probably the moment your crush on him crossed a boundary that would never be spoken of. Because what you did was blasphemous. Your parents should have known not to move in together with two horny college students in tow. Honestly.

You still remember the way his hands felt up your shirt, offering him a bit more than just his imagination there on your bed. He touched you a lot that day, and in turn you touched yourself twice as more on his bed just a day later.

So, that leads to tonight's dinner. Again, the first real dinner you've gotten to have as a "family" and all you can think about is the way your mom dotes on Jay for being such a good, protective brother. And how his father dotes on you, for being such a good influence on his son....despite his son's hand squeezing your thigh as he accepts the compliments and dotes on them right back.

"Thanks for making my dad happy again." "Thank you for always cooking the best meals." "Thank you for making the house look like a home."

God, you roll your eyes at him, really. Because you've already grown accustomed to the dirty, fucked up things he says to you when the two of you are alone. That hand on your leg further proves that he's full of shit and he knows you love it.

The worst part is that you do. Despite telling him that night you let him touch you that it would never happen again. Despite him not knowing that you have had at least three orgasms against the very pillow he lays his head on at night.

Anyway, it's wrong. And you continue to brood over the fact that you genuinely can't let yourself be weak again around him. No matter how much you want him, no matter how much he appears to want you.

He knows you set a boundary last time, and since then he hasn't approached you again until now, with his hand squeezing up your thigh until you jolt under the touch and alert your mother.

You dodged her questions, swiped his hand away, and finished your meal as quietly as you could before immediately heading back to your room.

"What's up with her?" Jay's father asks, looking at your mother.

"I'm not sure..."

Jay stands up, smiling genuinely and innocently at both of them.

"I'll go talk to her. She mentioned something about a fight with one of her friends the other day. She's probably upset about it or something"

The parents beam at him, despite his blatant lie as he makes his way to your room.

And, well, you're bad at keeping your own boundaries apparently because the second he walked into your room was the second you fell apart. As if his hand on your leg didn't already have you crumbling.

"You're too obvious." He scolded. "I just touched your leg, relax. At least let me get something out of this if you're not gonna put out for me after all that from before." He continued.

You just sat there staring at his angry whispered words.

"Jay--" You started in a half moan, but he continued.

"What's so bad about wanting to fuck anyway? You're right here, and you want it. I mean, look at you." he waves his hands at your body, and the way your fingers are clearly inside of yourself. "Me touching your leg has you up here trying to reach places that only i'd be able to reach."

"Then do it--" You cut yourself off this time, moving your fingers and scissoring them open in hopes that he would really give it to you despite your protests from the last time.

He's so fast with it too, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down the bed before shoving you to roll over. There, you immediately arch your back and perk your ass up at him. He shakes his head in pity, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he likes it. He probably loves when girls do this for him. And he reacts even more to it by pulling the loose shorts down your thighs, and then spreading your legs.

"Fuck, I knew you'd let me." He praises himself more than you. "Put your fingers back in, let me see what you what you were doing up here all by yourself."

You found yourself listening instantly, sliding in two fingers and hiding your face in your pillow. This only pushes him further, glancing up at the way you hide from the act, then licking his own fingers and sliding them in along side your own.

"What would your mom say?" He laughs, lifting himself now and placing his hand on the back of your head. "Hm? Do you think she'd be interested to find out how much of a slut her daughter is?"

All you can do is nod brokenly against the harsh feeling of his palm against your head, and the way he slides his fingers into you, forcing pressure on your own.

"You're gonna take it, right?" He continues, watching those broken nods continue before he's pulling his fingers out of you, pushing your face further into those pillow, and shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock out.

"Yeah, fuck, look at it. You want it so bad." He seethes out through gritted teeth, staring at the way your needy cunt clenches around your fingers in reaction to the loss of his. Then he's slapping your wrist to remove your fingers and immediately pushing into you. Giving you exactly what you want, and all of that.

He's such a good brother, for real.

There, he doesn't relent or let you breathe even for a moment. All you can hear is ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting out words of, "god, you're so fucking tight." and "dripping all over me, you really thought I'd stay away?" and "yeah, fuck, just take it."

And you do. You take it. Biting into the pillow through the pleasure and immense guilt of loving the way your strep brother's cock pulses inside of you. Loving the way he fucks hard and fast. Loving that he slides in deep every fucking time.

So much for talking.

Then again, you clearly weren't in the mood to talk anyway.

[mrsnancywheeler]

i know places // finnick odair x f.reader

request: Hiii, for the celebration could you do a soulmate au with Finnnick? Maybe after reader has won her games? Fluff pls but I don't mind some angst sprinkled in too. Thank you and I love your writing <3

masterlist

3k words

warnings: soulmate au, matching scars, closed off and guarded!reader, nearly instant love, attempted fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive behavior, trust issues, lovesick finnick, cocky finnick, unreliable narrator reader, unedited, no use of y/n, no sight of a slowburn anywhere, mentions of blood/violence/death

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You didn't win with your charm. Before the games there was no popularity because of your interview with Caesar, the only semblance of any likeability was from your somewhat impressive training score, a 10. Regardless of what Panem wanted, your survival skills had come into clutch and brought you straight to the crown. A rare underdog winning the games. According to your mentor though the press had begun spinning you as meek when they'd realized you were in the top eight. You hadn't been the only tribute who tried it lone wolf and it conflicted with another story, so you were instead supposed to be quiet, gentle, and that's why you kept to yourself. Not because your district partner had attacked you night two, after claiming he would take watch, only for you to overtake him instead.

So now, post your victory they expected you to lean into the role, which didn't come naturally. Not when all you wanted to do was stop performing, scrub off your skin which still carried the weight of dirt and blood even if you'd taken plenty of showers since your return, and under the warm blankets of your bed. Maybe if you didn't feel so guilty and numb it would be easier to play at, but now everyone wanted a piece of you. You'd much rather they get bored of you.

Instead you'd been dragged out to a Capitol celebration before your return back home. The interview, the crowning, apparently hadn't been enough because no matter how they tried to make you seem, you were too guarded for them to get a good read on who you were. You didn't want them to know who you were, they'd already stolen you from your home, dolled you up, and forced you to fight to survive against the other dolls. Leaving your hands forever bloodstained and the screams ringing in your ears. Yet the dollhouse had not burned down when the cannon went off, they'd just deadbolted the doors. Who knew what other demented games they'd force you to play if they were given a chance to see inside your brain. So the walls stayed firmly up as you planted yourself firmly in a nook somewhere and the bustling of the party.

The dress was itchy, the shoes pinched at your feet, the way they'd styled your hair had every nerve on your scalp screaming for freedom, and the drink smelt too sickly sweet for one to even fathom sipping on. People would be looking to hound you, to find a reaction, and hopefully you could just disappear into the brick. Although fate seemed to have other plans.

“Mind if I join you?" You looked up, dreading having to talk to someone. What would you even say without revealing too much? Then of course you hadn't expected it to be the Capitol darling, Finnick Odair, himself.

He was an attention grabber. Too beloved, too shiny, wherever he went the moths were soon to follow. Which was the last thing you needed, curse Finnick Odair if he brought attention to you. “Yes, I do mind." ‘Leave. Let me see how long I can sit here until anyone approaches, let them be distracted by the wealth around them so they leave me be.’ Your brain, foot tapping the cobblestone.

He laughed, that swoon worthy smirk taking over his face. Warmth, an inviting aura radiated off of him, but you despised it at this moment. The audacity he had felt unmatched when he slid into the nook anyways. You'd met him less then a minute away and he was already being nothing less than cockily malicious. Although you shouldn't have been surprised, that's how people described him. Maybe the worst part was that some deep part of you said that it was okay, that it was right. Which was a ridiculous thought, it had barely been anytime at all.

“Do you scowl like that whenever people try to talk to you, honey?" Finnick took a bite out of whatever pastry he was holding, something extravagant, brushed with flakes of gold. He held it out, “You should try it, it's sweet like you're supposed to be."

You said nothing, if he was going to insist on being here then you certainly weren't going to reward his efforts. No, you weren't going to even look at him, your arms crossed as you kept tapping your foot. He'd get bored of you and leave eventually, if what they said was true he was bound to find someone sparklier to play with. Even if some part of you would've been okay being his shiny new toy, no that was ridiculous, however you could make the allowance that everyone had hormones so it was only natural to be feeling like this. Of course he'd be this way, the man who supposedly had no soulmate, who could play with as many hearts as he wanted because in the end there apparently was no one out there for him. What a sad existence. Thinking about it almost made you feel bad for him, but you couldn't feel that much pity when he was so close to leading the vultures right to you.

“They're gonna find you eventually, you can't hide out here forever." He was terrible, insufferable. You glowered at him and his smirk widened. “There's no point in being miserable when they're going to do this until the next games. Might as well make the most of it.” Then like he had the right to be the most entitled man in the world took the glass right out of your hand and took a drink. You hated it here, hated how people acted, that you had no one, and most of all hated the way it made you feel. Like he was the only person you should've ever paid attention to. “Didn't seem like you were gonna drink it, you can still have some if you change your mind." You didn't make a move to grab the glass, “Didn't think so." Damn him and his attitude, and his perfect teeth, and the way it made your soul feel fulfilled for some odd reason. Which was nothing less than outrageous since all he'd done in the past couple minutes was drive you up the wall. Then the voices of chatter outside got louder, ‘Shit, shit shit,’ you thought. His magnetism was going to guide them straight to you. He could seemingly tell that this put you on edge because he put a single finger on his lips, a ‘shhh.’ This only served to irk you more, of course you knew to be quiet, this was his fault.

Soon enough the voices began fading again and you were ever so grateful. “Get out." You muttered, burrowing yourself further into the corner.

“This is where I usually take my breathers, not my fault you found it too." He shrugged. How a person managed to look so perfect you'd never know and didn't want to if it made them act like him.

“You've taken more than enough breaths, so you can go now."

"Honey, being a victor is all about who you know. You need good connections or your reputation will eat you alive.”

You glared,"I'll make good connections when they finally find me, but not right now.”

He looked at you with pity, you despised that he felt the right to pity you, but it felt so nice for someone to finally look at you like you weren't in need of congratulations."It takes most of us a couple months to start hating the attention, the realization hit you quicker didn't it?” There was no way he expected you to open up to him, yes you wanted to, but you couldn't. Nobody could be trusted, that was the first lesson the arena really taught you. “Being standoffish isn't going to stop them, it'll only make them see you as a problem victor, and I promise you that's the last thing you want."

Your voice unintentionally softened,"What do you want?”

"To make sure you're gonna be okay, everyone needs someone backing their side in this arena.” This arena. A different, more social one, because you'd never be able to escape. For someone who ticked you off in every sense within a minute, just as fast he'd begun chipping away at your walls.

"You don't want to back my side.”

"Yeah, I do.” Your face was still stony, even if you felt like your stomach was less anxious about being caught and more butterflies. Of course the first man who gave you attention would make you nearly lose resolve. No, he had to want something, be playing some game.

"No one wants to bet on the losing dog.”

"Good thing you're not losing, honey. And believe it or not, maybe there's just something about you.”

"You don't know me.”

"I know and that's what's weird about it.” There was a crease forming on his furrowed brow. “Come on, you should go make an appearance."

There was no way to step back, but you tried. Heel pushing out of the shoe, but you made no move to push it back in. You were too defensive, as long as you could hide you would. “No." You shook your head.

He sighed, “You don't even have to be you, make up a persona, but you have to do something or things will get worse." No, you couldn't bear to let people peer into you, it was terrible that Finnick was even getting a taste of it. You'd only make them hate you more anyways, they'd only grow to realize it would've been better to have anyone but you. “I'll go with you, take the attention off." Maybe that would work, but then what might people think? That you were the type of person easily won over by charming looks and cocky smirks, maybe you were, but that wasn't the point.

However, you did let yourself contemplate it. You couldn't reasonably hide here all night, and his charisma could make up for what you lacked. Plus, even if you hated to admit it, if there was anyone you'd want to stick by you, to tell you everything would be alright, it would be him. It didn't make sense why you felt this way and you almost felt guilty for how crazy it made you sound. It was a miracle he even wanted to stick around when you were being so bitchy, but he was an ass, so it must have evened out.

“I don't need you to stick around me." You lied through your teeth, it was better than making him think that reliance was a vulnerability of yours. Even if it was. Even if it looked like he had the kind of arms you could cry into, you hadn't cried yet, but this was all so overwhelming it felt like you might.

Finnick looked a little wounded, but there was more pity. Like he knew you were biting to try and keep yourself safe, like you were still in survival mode. “I get it, if you change your mind, just look my way." Yet he stood still like he was waiting for you to move first, making sure you didn't just hide away the whole night. Which you would've, if it could become part of the wall you'd thank it for the opportunity. You stared back until finally the tension of the silence became so palpable that you forced yourself to move. Rather unceremoniously as you'd forgotten the way your heel was still sticking out of the shoe and tumbled right out of the rest of it.

“Fuck!" You quietly exclaimed and Finnick was quick to assist you. You wished he hadn't because the moment he touched you it was as if rays of sunlight were buzzing through your veins, like your soul was ascending.

“Oh, I got you!"

“I'm fine." You pushed him off, so the feeling would stop. It was awful, it was weird, there was no plausible reason you should feel like this. Unless…no that was ridiculous.

“Sorry." But sorry didn't make up for the residual waves of electricity, or the way your heart pounded. Or how terrible it was that you wanted to feel it again. "Here let me get your shoe.” Then his nice dress pants were on the dirty cobblestone and you felt bad thinking about how they could get ruined.

"It's okay-” But then he was pausing at your foot, and the sunlight in your blood was back even stronger as his fingers began tracing something on your foot.

"What's that?”

You tried to pull your foot away but his fingertips chased after it, "It's nothing, just the stupid soulmate scar." It wasn't stupid, never had been to you, but it was better to protect your feelings. Finnick laughed, “What?" You asked, finally pulling your foot completely away.

“Oh my god, I'm an idiot. Of course I wanted to talk to you." He kept laughing and then was abruptly pulling off his shoe.

“What are you doing?" He didn't respond as he finally pried the shoe off and the sock.

“Look, they're the same. Oh my god, I found you!" His laughter was certain to alert someone with the way it carried with the breeze, it should've annoyed you more than it did, but it was like music when it passed through your ears.

“What're you talking about?" He playfully rolled his eyes and then his hand was pulling you down on the ground with him. And despite the dirt that would get on your dress, the electric sunshine felt too good to pull away. So you sat in the pile of your dress on the ground and let him guide your feet together.

“Look at that, honey. Look at that." You would've asked what he wanted you to look at, but it quickly became obvious. Two scars, in the same place, the same size, you shared that scar with Finnick Odair. He, the Finnick Odair, who you'd just met and had already pushed you through an array of emotions, was your soulmate. The part of you that had been gnawing in the back of your brain was celebrating in ‘I told you so’s.’

“Oh.” You traced over them slowly, trying to let it sink in. Suddenly you had a soulmate, well you always had, but he was right there. Suddenly things would be alright, and maybe the universe wanted to spite you because you'd always imagined that was the person you'd finally have to open up to. Here he was, the man you'd been actively pushing away the help of.

"Is that a good, oh?” He asked and you felt bad for how you could feel a slight worry in his voice.

"I thought you didn't-”

"I lied, the nick on my foot was from swimming, and it helped the people who wanted to fawn over me. Almost convinced myself it was true though, but here you are.”

"What're you trying to do here?” You couldn't trust him, even if it felt right, even if he made your heart swell. No, this wasn't right, you were just you, and he was Finnick Odair.

Now though it was as if he could read you like a book, like all your guarded insecurities were on a display. It was a horrendous and gratifying experience to be known, to be perceived. "I'm not trying to do anything, honey, we're just meant to be. Not playing at anything, promise." So you sat there in the pile of fabric on the floor, cold stone giving you goosebumps as you stared at him. This was it, there was no need to be cautious because it was meant to be. Why would someone betray their own soulmate? He definitely didn't seem like the type.

“Okay." You finally exhaled and he smiled so wide that it made it worth it. Your walls have been somewhat successfully picked at because you let him embrace you. In fact, you let yourself relax in his arms.

“You're real, you're really real." He held you like you might slip away in a dream. “So pretty, so smart, and real!" He buried his head in your shoulder. It felt good to let someone care about you like this and it made you feel better about how instantly attracted you'd been. You'd probably look back and hate yourself for it, but you felt yourself crying. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, honey?”

You shook your head and he wiped one away, letting you hide in his chest. He was so warm, it felt so right, like the sunshine feeling would never go away. "You meant what you said earlier right? You'll stick by me?"

It felt so right when his hands traced up and down the back of your neck, “Of course, honey, won't leave your side. I got you."

God, this was embarrassing. "Sorry.” You pulled away and he shook his head.

"You're okay, don't worry, that's what this is for. We're here for each other.”

You nodded slowly, sinking into his deep eyes, you'd never seen the ocean, but you imagined that's what it would look like. "I should go make my appearance now.” Before you said another thing he had your shoe back on your foot and his on as well. Pulling you up to help you stand. "Promise to stay?" It felt pathetic, but also like he was the one you were supposed to turn to.

“Promise. I'll never leave your side, honey." Finnick squeezed your hand and maybe you could now face the world. The universe had gifted you, at your lowest point, your soulmate in a matter of minutes. Someone who could already seemingly read you like a book and made your heart beat like there was a racket happening, and you knew that you'd finally be able to just truly be you with someone. Through thick and thin, through the highest highs and lowest lows, suddenly you knew you had each other.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, I tried to make this fluffy but honestly it's kind of a struggle so I hope it's up to standard. as always if you enjoyed feedback, comments, reblogs, likes, are all very, very appreciated. asks and requests are both open and I love you all 💋

@wowzabowza69

[thatscarletflycatcher]

"I do not wish to call you my friend because I hope to call you something infinitely more dear... I rode through the rain... I'd ride through worse than that if I could just hear your voice telling me that I might at least have some chance to win you... maybe it is our imperfections that make us perfect for one another. Marry me? Marry me, my wonderful, darling friend."

"But you... you were not deceived, were you? You held to what you knew in your heart. Constant, constant as the rain! What should I do if you should ever go away? My dearest Fanny."

"Fanny, I must confess something. I have loved you all my life... as a man loves a woman, as a hero loves a heroine, as I have never loved anyone in my entire life. I was so anxious to do what is right, that I forgot to do what is right. But if you choose me, after all my blundering and blindness, that will be a happiness which no description could reach."

"Oh, Elinor, I have longed for this moment from the instant of our first meeting, dear, dear Elinor. Would you... could you possibly... How could anyone help to love you?"

"I have come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours."

"Miss Dashwood, Elinor, I came here with no expectation, after everything that has happened you have every right to turn me away this instant. But I cannot leave here without conveying the intensity of my feelings for you... Every day since I first saw you, my love for you has grown. Elinor, I have no right to hope, but I must ask: can you forgive me? Can you love me? Will you marry me?"

"I told him that I felt myself bound to you, by honor, by affection, and by a love so strong, that nothing he could do could deter me from... Before I go on I should tell you there is a pretty good chance he'll disinherit me. I fear I may never be a rich man, Catherine. Will you marry me, Catherine?"

"Elinor, I would not blame you if you wanted me to leave, but please allow me... my engagement to Lucy was a folly of youth. I never felt for her or for anyone what I feel for you. And I don't care what my stepsister thinks, or my stepmother, or anyone. I will not marry for fortune, nor out of obligation. I want to marry for love. And I love you, Elinor. I know my own happiness now. And in truth, I have known it for some time. It lies with you, Elinor. I love you with all my heart. I have been in love with you since... since we first met at Norland. I tried to deny it out of some misguided sense of duty or honor. But... but it would not be denied. My love for you has never wavered. And I will continue to love you until the day I die. I came here today with one errand in mind, which I will now perform. Elinor Dashwood, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

Miss Morland... don't be afraid. I promise not to oppress you with too much remorse, or too much passion. Though since you left us, the white rose bush has died of grief. Catherine, are you still a disgrace to your sex? Does your face express all that your heart feels, or may I hope that it holds a secret? You know that I do not need my father's permission to marry you."

*I'm taking the P&P ones away from you all because it is no fun when everyone votes P&P.

[alexiaput3llas]

Game of Love/ Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: Nothing but fluff. Maybe one swear word

Author: So this is my first time writing, because I always wanted to try it and I have to say I´m a vey slow writer but it is a lot of fun. Also english is not my first language anyways enjoy (-;

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You barely get nervous, but here you are. You're about to head out to the pitch. It is the Champions League final 2024, and Barcelona is facing none other than the mighty Lyon. But this Barcelona is different from the ones that lost to Lyon before. This Barcelona is determined to win.

You get pulled out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You recognize that touch among billions, and her scent will forever be your favorite. Alexia and you have been dating for four years.

You signed to Barcelona 6 Years ago and Alexia and you immediately clicked. You became friends with her on instant and after some time you started to devolve a small huge crush on her. What you didn’t realize that she felt the same, but after a night out with the team to celebrate your Copa de la Reina victory, where everyone, including Alexia, drank a bit too much, things between you and her got really heated and after some shameless flirting on both sides, grinding on each other on the dance floor and some more drinks, you found yourself the next morning in an unfamiliar hotel room with brown hair sprawled everywhere. You couldn´t help but admire her and hoped that also for her this was not only a one night stand. So after she woke up, you both got to talk and finally admitted your feelings for each other.

And here you are now, facing your lover, who only for you breaks her serious game face, which, in your opinion, is one of the most attractive things in the world, into an encouraging smile. "Are you ready, mi amor?" Alexia, of course, notices your nervous state. "You don't have to be nervous, okay? We are a different team now, and you have the season of your life." It is true; you have the season of your life and have already won the league. "Thanks, baby, I really needed that." She nods, gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, on your nose, your right cheek, your left cheek, and finally, your lips.

You can't help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and you smile into the kiss. "Break it up, lovebirds, will ya!" Mapi chuckles behind you. You break away from Alexia's soft lips, giggle, and hug your girlfriend. "I love you," you mumble in her neck. "And I love you more." She steps out of your embrace and kisses the top of your head. Just about when you wanted to protest that you love her more, she shuts you up with one final kiss to your lips and eventually takes her spot to lead out the team.

The game couldn't start any worse. In the third minute of the game, Ada Hegerberg scored a beauty, leaving Cata Coll no chance. In the 20th minute, it was 2:0 Lyon, thanks to Van de Donk. Only 5 minutes afterward, Ada Hegerberg scored her second goal of the evening, and it was 3:0. You immediately got flashbacks to Turin 2 years ago, but you had to shake these thoughts out of your head. Lyon presses high, and Barcelona was lucky not to concede any more goals. The ref blew the halftime whistle, and both teams headed to the changing rooms.

Everyone's heads hang low. I sit at my cubby talking with Aitana about strategies when I feel a presence next to me. It was Alexia, who immediately joined our conversation to outline the game. She placed one hand on my thigh and gave it a few encouraging squeezes. Jonathan came in: “Chicas, nothing is lost yet. We all know what we're capable of, and if anyone can turn the game around, it's Barca. Vamos!”. "VAMOS!" Everyone in the changing room knew that this game was not over, and with new hope and confidence, we headed out to the pitch to start the second half.

And with confidence, we played. We started the second half way better, and after only ten minutes, after an amazing pass from Alexia, Aitana could find the back of the net. And that was all we needed.

A corner kick, Mariona made it 3:2.

Alexia passed the ball to you, and you began to run down the field, suddenly having a lot of open space. Just as you were about to shoot, you felt some cleats colliding with your ankle, making you stumble to the ground in pain. Your ankle throbbed, and not long after, the medics arrived.

At the same time, Alexia shoved Ada, who made the tackle. "You could've hurt her. That has to be a fucking card!" Ada shoved Alexia back and growled, "I didn't fucking touch her. She fell to the ground because of nothing." Just as Alexia was about to respond, with what would have definitely been a hard push, Mapi grabbed her. "Ale, calm down. Let her go! Y/N needs you more. She isn't worth it." With one last angry glare at Ada, Alexia made its way to you. "Mi amor, are you okay?" "Peachy," you responded. "Is it bad?" Alexia mumbled to the physios. "No, it's alright. She's alright to continue to play."

The tackle was rewarded with a free kick, which Alexia easily slotted into the top left corner. You ran to her, and all gathered in a big hug. "Freaking yes, Baby. What a goal!" You gave her a secret kiss on her neck.

With now only 5 more minutes left on the clock, everything hurt. But you couldn't just give up. You sprinted to recover a ball and sent it to Patri, who dribbled around one Lyon Player and passed it back to you. And you did what you can do best. Shoot. You just took the shot. And…

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Everyone was screaming from the top of their lungs. Your shot probably won Barca the Champions League. With only a few minutes left, Barcelona did everything they could to defend their lead, and that was what you did. Throwing in every ball, running even though it hurt.

The whistle blew. Barcelona had done it. You are the champions of Europe once again. You sank to your knees, overwhelmed with emotions. You soon locked eyes with those sparkling hazel eyes, and a beaming smile made its way across your face, as does it with Alexia. You made your way over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of, Ale," you mumbled into her neck. "And I'm so unbelievably proud of you, mi amor. That goal was a beauty." You chuckled. "It still feels surreal. I mean, we won it now for the third time, but I never get tired of it." You looked up at her, and the desire to just kiss her grew inside of you. The way her eyes sparkled, her teeth-showing smile, and a look of adoration towards you only intensifies it.

Without hesitation, you fulfill your desire and press your lips against Alexia's. The taste of victory is sweeter than any championship, and in that moment, the world disappears around you. The cheers from the stadium, the flashing cameras, and the ecstatic teammates fade into the background, leaving only you and Alexia, lost in the celebration of your shared triumph.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, breathing in sync as the magnitude of the moment sinks in. The elation, the relief, and the sheer joy are palpable, and you can't help but grin. "We did it," you whisper, more to yourself than to Alexia, as if saying it out loud would make the reality even more concrete.

"We did," she replies, her voice filled with a mix of happiness and disbelief. "I knew you'd make a difference, but that last goal..." She trails off, shaking her head in amazement.

The team gathers around, enveloping both of you in a collective embrace. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional tear of happiness mingle as you bask in the glory of the victory. Champagne bottles pop open, and the sparkling liquid showers everyone, marking the end of a long and challenging journey.

Amidst the jubilation, you steal a moment alone with Alexia. Hand in hand, you slip away from the chaos and find a quiet corner of the stadium. The echo of cheers becomes a distant hum as you lean against a railing, gazing out at the pitch where the triumph unfolded. She pushed you gently against the wall and kissed you softly, with so much love. After a few minutes, you broke apart and rested your foreheads together.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Alexia murmurs, her eyes reflecting the shimmering lights of the stadium. "All those years of hard work, the setbacks, the victories, and now... this." She gestures to the field below, still alive with the energy of the recently concluded match.

You nod, a profound sense of accomplishment settling in your chest. "And to think it all started with that Copa de la Reina celebration."

Alexia chuckles, her hand finding yours. "A night we'll never forget."

And with that, you join your teammates again for the celebrations.

You knew that whatever will happen on the pitch, you would always have a safe place off the pitch.

Alexia