#man just vibing with his best friend that he sees as a daughter

[something-old-something-new]

I headcannon that eteled never paid so little attention to Pokemon while working at Nintendo that he had no idea what was going on in Gen 4, but would still love Rise of Darkrai. A lot.

Besties having them movie nights

[fastandcarlos]

Life With The Verstappen Family : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: a glimpse into the life of the verstappen family and your two little ones who are always causing chaos

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, redbullracing and 2,593,069 others

maxverstappen1: turns out being dad is the coolest thing in the world 💕

139,583 comments

username1: not max as a dad also being the coolest dad in the world

username2: the handsome dad vibes are strong in these pictures 💪🏻

danielricciardo: congrats my friend!!

landonorris: can't believe you're actually dad...wow you're old 😂

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris you're not exactly a spring chicken anymore yourself

username3: is it okay to be this jealous of a small child??

ynusername: can't wait to spend the rest of my life being mum and dad with you 💞

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I'm definitely the lucky one between the two of us ☺���

username4: I can't believe we get to see dad max at the paddock next year

oscarpiastri: why is your tiny human so cute? clearly yn got all the good genes in there

redbullracing: welcome to the smallest member of our team, we can't wait to have you in the paddock soon!! 💙❤️

username5: the proud smile on his face actually melts my heart

username6: forever in love with max as a dad already 🤧

georgerussell63: who'd have thought you'd be the first to settle down, congrats you two!

charles_leclerc: dog dads are better than human dads btw 🤷🏻‍♂️

schecoperez: sending all my 'how to survive life as a dad' books your way my friend

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,472,293 others

ynusername: turns out max can’t ski and ydn is absolutely showing him up on the slopes ⛷️

138,291 comments

username7: omg look at how grown up yn is getting

maxverstappen1: imma just focus on the first photo and how much my little girl adores me...no idea what you're talking about with the skiing 🙄

username8: yn pls tell me you've got some videos of this lol

landonorris: he is the most uncoordinated man i've ever met and you chose to take him skiing 🤦🏻‍♂️

ynusername: @/landonorris it was ydn's choice, you know max can't say no to his little girl

carlossainz55: i'll have to show him how it's done one day

username9: not ydn falling asleep in max's lap, it looks so comfy there 🤩

username10: anyone else think that ydn looks more and more like max's twin everyday??

username11: how can one family be so cute? ��

alex_albon: lily told me you sent a video of max falling on his ass, please say I have permission to see it too?

ynusername: @/alex_albon it's all yours 😘

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon @/ynusername hey i refuse to give permission for this!!!

lewishamilton: hope you guys are having the best time, tell ydn i've got the biggest cuddle waiting for her when i see her next

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, alex_albon and 1,799,391 others

maxverstappen1: all my babies ❤️🥺

189,382 comments

username12: i dont think my ovaries can take much more of these updates

username13: i can't deal with how adorable these are!! 😭😭

ynusername: guessing i'm not your baby anymore 💔

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername you'll always be my baby 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

landonorris: i thought I was your baby too???

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris go away before i block you again 🙄

charles_leclerc: btw dogs are still better than cats

username14: not charles starting a war of pets in the comments sections

username15: praying i come back as a cat so i can be adopted by the verstappens too 🤞🏻

georgerussell63: can you stop taking sickeningly sweet photos of your daughter so that we stop missing her during the off season please

alex_albon: ydn's position reminds me of how lily looked when i got home last night fast asleep on the sofa

lilymhe: @/alex_albon btw the couch is yours tonight now 🖕🏻

username16: how can these cute photos cause a domestic lmao

username17: it's always max causing trouble even when he doesn't mean to

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 994,293 others

ynusername: forever a third wheel when it comes to these two 🫶🏻

48,193 comments

landonorris: now you know how i've felt for the past six years 🤷🏻‍♂️

username18: i'll come and save you yn!!

danielricciardo: you should be used to it...you third wheeled us for several seasons

username19: ydn is such a daddy's girl its unreal 🤩

maxverstappen1: stop making people feel sorry for you, you choose to hang back and take all these photos hahah

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 JUST LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT

username20: i can't cope with how unserious these two are as parents 😂😂

username21: i wonder if ydn realises how lucky she is getting to travel the world with max verstappen by her side

oscarpiastri: just so you know, lando laughed out loud when he read the caption to this

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri just so you know, he's the worst!

username22: yn must be desperate for another baby so its 2v2

username23: even as a third wheel I'd be happy just being that close to max

schecoperez: come and hang out in my driver room instead!! 💙

lilymhe: i'll save you bestie

ynusername: @/lilymhe knew i could rely on you 😘

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, sebastianvettel and 1,382,291 others

maxverstappen1: why does no one ever warn you that two kids are so much harder to control than one 😂

89,503 comments

username24: emilian you knew what you signed up for when you got yn pregnant

danielricciardo: now imagine being christian trying to take control over both of us hahah 😂😂

username25: max and one kid was cute but max and two kids...wow

schecoperez: you should've listened to me i did warn you

ynusername: all I can see is ydn getting dangerously close to that water you fool 🤦🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername i've got everything under control don't worry

username26: how can any man complain when you're kids are that cute

charles_leclerc: i keep reminding you that me and alex are happy to babysit whenever you want us

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc alex I trust...you...well 🤫

username27: its the colour coordinating with ysn that does it for me

username28: is everyone going to ignore how grown up those two babies look these days

landonorris: i can come and join you and see what it's like to practice for baby number three if you want? 😂

username29: lando norris you menace

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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 2,392,605 others

maxverstappen1: nothing better than when my two loves come and cheer me on, I promise you they are impressed by what daddy does, even if their faves suggest otherwise 🥺

194,382 comments

username30: cannot wait for my social media to be filled with verstappen baby content this weekend

ynusername: no way we're missing a home race, good luck for this weekend my love 💕💕

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername thank you for bringing them to support me, you're the best

username31: max looks so happy to have them there omg

username32: i wish someone looked as happy as max does to have me around them ❤️

carlossainz55: if they don't appear in ferrari at some point this weekend i'm never speaking to you again

alex_albon: and the williams garage!!!

pierregasly: alpine are expecting a visit too!

danielricciardo: and rb, it would be rude not to after all 🤷🏻‍♂️

username33: ydn and ysn are the most popular people in the paddock this weekend hahah

username34: i can't cope with how obsessed everyone is over these two

lewishamilton: i can't believe how big they are, where does the time even go?

georgerussell63: @/lewishamilton you mean to say you've already seen them and I wasn't there to join you 🫢

username35: poor yn won't get a second to breathe racing around all these garages

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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,492,503 others

ynusername: introducing the team to their favourite drivers, and charles 😂

79,305 comments

username36: ah we got the photos to prove they visited guys

charles_leclerc: you best be kidding or i'm never babysitting for you ever again 😡

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc jokes we love you really

danielricciardo: it was lovely to see team verstappen again after so long 💞💞

landonorris: btw ysn said that i was his favourite so snooze you lose max!!

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris if you want to believe my son prefers you to me you think that my friend

username37: look at how soft they all become when they're around verstappen babies ☺️🥺

username38: i just want someone to look at me like charles looks at ysn

georgerussell63: still waiting for my turn excuse me

carmenmmundt: pls come and visit before george actually explodes 🥺

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt i promise we're on our way!!

username39: do people even go to f1 for racing anymore or just to see ysn and ydn??

username40: i saw the four of them at the gates this morning and I swear i've never seen anything cuter...

carlossainz55: there better be another post filled with photos of me and ydn coming up

oscarpiastri: lando has not shut up about the fact he saw you guys...now look what i've got to put up with 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, schecoperez and 2,583,604 others

maxverstappen1: a tribute to the woman that holds our team together, I couldn’t do this without you yn, the best mum and wife in the world ❤️❤️

105,583 comments

username41: how yn puts up with two kids and max i will never know

ynusername: it's the easiest job in the world being by your side with our two little treasures 🏎️🥺

landonorris: yn deserves a medal having to deal with you day in day out

georgerussell63: i've lost count of how many times i've seen yn running around the paddock for you, ysn or ydn

username42: i swear yn is just the best mum ever ❤️

username43: i want to be adopted by yn and yn only

carlossainz55: not forgetting the fact she now is in charge of your two cats too

charles_leclerc: at this point she's pretty much mum to us drivers too with how well she keeps us all in check 😂

username44: i thought it was just fans obsessed with the verstappens, turns out its the drivers too

username45: i expected nothing less from this group of boys who are absolutely whipped for yn

username46: its official, the verstappens are just the best 🫶🏻💕☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄����𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[carisc4pshaw]

Office Christmas Party

In which the Hotchner!reader needs a plus one for an office Christmas party and Aaron Hotchner is quick to suggest Spencer accompanying her. (Fluff&Smut!)

word count: 4.4k

tags: office christmas party, one bed, aaron hotchner (dad), fem reader, bisexual reader, elle greenaway, spencer reid, plus one, new york city, christmas movie, room service, falling in love, crush, smut, fluff, elevator kissing, fancy hotel, manhattan, sightseeing, work colleagues, dating the boss’ daughter, girly reader

warnings: elevator kissing, sub spencer reid, dick riding, protected PinV sex

notes: Happy Christmas/ Christmas eve everyone! I hope you enjoy this, I tried my best but I’m still new to writing with a reader. I think I remembered all the tags pls let me know if * missed anything.

—————————💚————————

Two weeks before Christmas you walked into the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI, your shoulder bag swinging as you walked up the small staircase towards your father’s office not bothering to knock before opening the door.

“What have I told you about knocking,” Aaron Hotchner looked up from whatever file he was finishing to see you standing in the doorway.

“My bad? I need help,” you sighed loudly sitting down on the chair opposite him.

“What have you done now? Hotch asked putting down his pen.

You gasped putting a hand on your chest, “That’s rude! I haven’t done anything.”

“Then what do you need help with?” He sat back in his chair looking at you waiting for you to continue talking.

“There’s a Christmas work party out of town next week and I have no plus one and I don’t want to go alone, help me find someone to go with please!”

“Man or woman? You know this isn’t exactly the help you ask your father for.”

“I know but I’m desperate, I’ll take anything, anyone,” You dramatically slumped over on his desk putting your head in your arms that were folded on the desk.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s it? I need to know possible suitors now. Does that hot brunette still work here I saw her once when I came to visit.”

“Who?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Um,” you pictured yourself being back there that day and looking over at her desk, “Elle!”

“Yes.. she works here but she’s a little old for you?”

“She doesn’t look old, how old is she?”

“29.”

“Dad that’s only eight years difference. I’ve dated older people than that.”

“I have Elle on a special assignment in Texas next week but you’re more than welcome to ask her on a date another time I suppose…” Aaron said before adding, “What about Spencer?”

You pondered for a moment, “Look I like him he’s got that sexy nerd vibe.. also he looks like he’d be clueless but so good in b-“ You stopped what you were saying remembering you were speaking to your father, not a friend, “Nevermind. Do you think he will ramble a lot I don’t know if the other workers will like it, they are nowhere near as smart as him and I don’t want them to say things about him.”

“He does talk a lot but I thought you liked that plus he’s closer to your age,” Hotch made his point after shaking his head at your words, he wasn’t born yesterday he knew exactly what you were about to say and he did not like it at all.

“I suppose, there’s going to be models, influencers and fashion magazines we work with there though… I guess Spencer isn’t too bad he has a grandad kind of style going on people and by people I mean me, find that quite hot nowadays.”

“Look I have a job to do if you’re going to ask him just ask,” He said looking back at his file, “Aren’t you meant to be at work?”

“The company are scouting new models today I’m not required to be there, I don’t do that.”

“Right, well speak to Spencer and tell him I’ll give him extra time off with pay since he’ll be entertaining you. Where is this party?”

“New York. The company convinced Lilia Archer to go. I’m so excited she’s awesome.”

“Lilia Archer? Mention her and Spencer will be there I’m sure.”

“What do you mean? He’s got like a crush on her?”

“We had a case she was involved with last year, Spencer kissed her.”

“What?” you asked shocked but also with a hint of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

Aaron laughed, “It was… unexpected.”

“You can say that again,” you picked up your bag, “I’ll see you later dad, love you.”

Hotch stood from his chair and walked around the corner of his desk pulling his daughter into a hug, “I love you too.”

You left the office walking down the stairs while looking around to see if you could spot Spencer.

You finally found him over by the coffee machine pouring an unnecessary amount of sugar into his coffee, “Spencer?”

The man turned around quickly hearing his name spoken so softly by a voice he recognised, “Y/N! Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I was actually looking for you,” you started.

“You were… Why?” His lips pressed into a straight line as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Are you busy next week? On Friday and Saturday?”

“I mean yes, I’ll be here…”

“And what if my father gave you some time off?” you smiled with hope.

“What’s going on?”

“I need a plus one for a Christmas party in New York, Please be my plus one Spence,” you clasped your hands together grinning widely.

“I’m not sure it’s really… well my scene, you work in fashion with models and I don’t usually go to parties.”

“Please Spencer, Lilia Archer is going to be there apparently,” you smirked a little.

“Oh I definitely cannot go, she’s got a boyfriend it will just be awkward,” Spencer frowned.

“Fine, I’ll have her uninvited or something? Please Spencer, If you don’t want to share a room with me I’ll pay for you to have your own.”

“What, no, you don’t have to spend your money on that I don’t mind sharing i-if that’s okay with you, of course!” Spencer stuttered getting nervous.

“So you’re coming?” the wide smile reappeared on your face.

Spencer sighed, “I guess so, what do I need to take?”

“Can I have your keys?”

“What why?” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“I have a day off, you are always busy and I will pick good outfits, it’s literally my job, I’ll go pack for you,” you put your hand out waiting for his keys.

“But I haven’t tidied up, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Spence you’re a clean freak your meaning of messy is everyone else’s spotless clean.”

“Just stick to the wardrobe, don’t snoop around I know what you’re like,” Spencer said as he handed over his keys.

“Yes Doctor Reid, oh yeah if it wasn’t obvious you’re going as my boyfriend,” you kissed him on the cheek before walking off not giving him time to respond.

“What’s going on there pretty boy? The big boss wouldn’t be too happy if he saw that,” Derek said as Spencer’s blush deepened on his cheeks.

“I thought she was into me…” Elle added.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t turn down a night with both of you,” Derek winked at the brunette.

“You’re disgusting,” She rolled her eyes going back to typing on her computer.

——————

When Spencer returned home from work the next day, he opened the door to see his apartment fairly clean with his books that didn’t fit in the bookcase stacked up in alphabetical order as well as some cookies on the kitchen counter and as he went into his room he saw the open suitcase on the bed with a note by the side.

I hope you like everything I’ve packed and you enjoy the cookies I made you. I’m trying to be a good ‘girlfriend’ ;)

Y/N <3

Over the next few days, You only came into the office once to give Spencer another note that contained your phone number so you could communicate about where to meet before flying to New York.

On the day of the trip, Spencer drove to your apartment at 6 am, your flight was at 8:30 am but your apartment was a 20-minute bus ride from the airport meaning it was the best place to meet.

Spencer knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before knocking again.

“Spencer there’s a key under the mat!” You called through the apartment. The man rolled his eyes, you had probably woken up your neighbours and just told them where you had been hiding your spare key although by the look of the building it may have soundproof walls or a least more soundproof than his were at his apartment.

He took the key and unlocked the door, stepping inside to see you in the kitchen with your hair in rollers, drinking a cup of tea with multiple outfits hanging up around the house.

“I take it you aren’t ready?” Spencer said.

“Good morning my love, nope almost just need to pick the airport outfit!”

“I like the second one,” He shrugged.

“Hm, I think I’ll go with the fourth.”

Spencer shook his head with a laugh, “Please don’t be long we don’t have much time.”

“Don’t stress it’s all cool,” you picked up the coat hanger that had a pair of black Victoria's Secret sweatpants, a white tank top and an off-the-shoulder sweater on, “Make a coffee, make yourself comfortable.”

Every minute that passed Spencer checked his watch getting more anxious until finally 15 minutes later you left your bedroom with a suitcase and 2 bags with your hair curled and your outfit on.

“I’m ready, let’s go,” you said grabbing your phone and walking over to the door.

——————

You and Spencer stood outside the hotel and spa, it looked fancy and definitely out of his price range, Spencer thought to himself.

“Ready for 2 days of fun boyfriend?” You smirked pulling your suitcase through the glass door of the hotel.

Spencer followed closely behind you holding one of your bags. He let you check in before you went to your room on the top floor.

“Woah this is huge!” you said looking at the hotel room’s super king-sized bed.

“It’s a nice hotel, how much did you pay for this?” Spencer asked leaving his suitcase next to the left side of the bed.

“I didn’t, my boss did. I’m pretty sure she booked out the whole hotel for the party.”

“So,” Spencer sat down on the bed after removing his shoes, “What exactly is the plan?”

“What plan?” you raised an eyebrow sitting down next to him and picking up the room service menu.

“Why am I here?” Spencer kept to the edge of his side of the bed.

“To be my plus one for the party tomorrow night, maybe you can show me around the city, dad said you’ve been here more than a few times for cases.”

“That’s it? You just wanted a plus one? There was no hidden meaning? I’m sure you could have found someone better looking on a dating website.”

“I like nerdy guys, plus you’re a fancy FBI agent,” you turned to look at him biting your lip before giggling, “I think we are going to have fun, wanna explore the hotel?”

“Maybe later, I want to stay here for a few minutes since I’m going to have to start using my social battery soon.”

“Okay suit yourself, I’m going to meet some of my friends I won’t be longer than an hour,” you said getting off the bed and heading out of the door.

Spencer sighed once he heard the door close, his head falling back against the headboard. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had a crush on you but he knew you were totally off-limits, you were Hotch’s daughter after all.

His head felt dizzy picturing the way you had looked at him while biting your lip even if it was jokingly it still made his head spin and his blood rush to his cock.

Spencer took it upon himself to take a cold shower, he needed one after the flight anyway so why not kill two birds with one stone?

You walked back into the room at the same time as Spencer opened the bathroom door with a towel wrapped just around his waist.

“Hello to you too, what a nice surprise,” you winked at him with a laugh.

“Shut up,” the man walked back into the bathroom closing the door, “I thought you were going to be an hour.”

“Got bored, assumed you’d want to go out or get something to eat maybe? Do you find if we swap rooms I need to pee.”

“Oh, oh sure,” Spencer opened the door again, “Food sounds good. Could you stay in the bathroom until I’m dressed?”

“Sure if it makes you more comfortable,” You smiled going into the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Spencer got dressed as he called into the bathroom, “I’m paying for our food, you can come out by the way.”

You opened the bathroom door, “You don’t have to Spence, my father gave me some money to spend here.”

“Use it to buy something nice, I want to pay for dinner,” Spencer smiled at you.

“Fine I’m not going to turn that down again,” you laughed and grabbed your purse.

——————

You and Spencer had lunch and stayed out exploring the city until 5 pm when you headed back to the hotel.

“Are you sure you’re okay ordering room service for dinner?” You asked Spencer for the 4th time since you had been walking back to the hotel.

“Yes I’m fine with it,” Spencer laughed and rolled his eyes pushing their room door open.

Just as he was about to close the door he heard a feminine voice calling ‘Wait’ Confused, he waited, by this point, you had gone into the bedroom.

“Oh!” The woman spoke, “I’m so sorry I thought this was my friend's room.”

“You’re a friend of Y/N?”

“Yes… and you are?”

“Spencer,” he smiled, “Y/N, someone is at the door for you.”

You groaned and came out of the bedroom with your sweater off, you looked extremely good in the white tank top you had been wearing under the sweater.

“Laura! Oh hey; Laura this is my boyfriend Spencer, Spencer this is my boss Laura.”

“Boyfriend?” Laura looked confused, “You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes…” points to Spencer, “Boyfriend.”

“Oh well, I guess you don’t need to come to the club with me and a couple of the others to find plus-ones then,” Laura laughed.

“Nope, no clubbing for me, Spence and I are going to have a movie night, order room service and have lots of cuddles,” you grinned.

“That’s cool have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow, or I’ll text you if I get lucky,” Laura winked before leaving the room.

You closed the door and Spencer eyed you curiously, “I wouldn’t have minded if you went out.”

“We have plans did you not hear?”

“You were being serious you want a movie night with me?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“And cuddles,” you smiled before returning to the bedroom, “Can you order room service while I take a shower?”

“Of course, What do you want?”

You hummed, “Carbonara, margarita pizza, red wine and chocolate brownie with ice cream. Oh and ask for bottled water.”

Spencer laughs, “I’m guessing this gets charged to your boss?”

“You guessed right, order what you want. I love her but I love spending money more,” You giggled going into the bathroom and turning the shower on.

You walked out of the bathroom in your towel, “Sorry I forgot to take my pyjamas through.”

Spencer cleared his throat, “It’s fine um room service will be 6 minutes and roughly 17 seconds.”

——————

The two sat in the living room area of the room eating their meals and sharing a few bites with each other.

You both went back to the bedroom to watch TV and just as you were about to climb into the bed you took off your dressing gown revealing your silky pyjamas which consisted of a low-cut tank top and short shorts.

Spencer’s face went a little red as he cleared his throat, “That's what you chose to bring?”

“Is there a problem with them?” You asked looking down at your clothes.

“No, no, no problem you look really um great,” he wanted to continue his ramble but you stopped him.

“You can tell me I’m hot baby,” the younger woman winked.

“Stop that, let’s just watch the movie,” Spencer spoke desperately.

“Fineeee,” you said dragging out the last letter as you switched the TV on.

At some point during the movie, you fell asleep on Spencer’s arm. Once he realised you were sleeping he switched off the movie and fell asleep beside you.

The next morning, you woke first with a groan, you smiled as you tilted your head up to see Spencer sleeping. He looked so perfect as he slept. You weren’t sure if having thoughts like that were sweet or creepy.

You pulled back the duvet to go to make some tea. By the time you came back, Spencer was starting to wake up.

“Sorry, I didn’t make you anything I didn’t know when you’d wake up,” you said getting back into bed.

“That’s fine, good morning,” He smiled trying not to move.

“Good morning, is everything okay?” your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.

“Yeah I’m fine, just uh disorientated… give me a few minutes to wake up.”

“Man troubles?” you caught on and raised an eyebrow.

Spencer choked, “What?”

“Oh come on I wasn’t born yesterday Spence, I’ve had boyfriends. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

He covered his face with his hands, “It is embarrassing but it will go away. What time is it?” Spencer asked changing the subject.

“Only 7:30 but Dad will call at 8 to check on me,” you rolled your eyes,

“And then I’ll go back to sleep for a bit.”

“What time are you getting up?” Spencer said, he was used to getting up long before this time most mornings but it wouldn’t hurt if he had a lay-in for once. It wouldn’t usually be his thing but these beds were extremely comfortable.

“Before noon? The party starts at 5 pm so I’ll have more than enough time to get ready,” You placed the empty mug on the bedside table and waited for Aaron to call you in the meantime Spencer had fallen back to sleep.

—————

When you both woke up again, you had slept slightly past noon. Spencer had a few missed calls from the team, he instantly felt guilty that he wasn’t available to answer his phone if they needed help but it didn’t take long for you to convince him that it was his day off and he didn’t have to be on call all the time.

After a lot of stressing about curling your hair and making sure your make-up was perfect, you were almost ready. The last thing you had to do was put your dress on.

Spencer was waiting on the small sofa for you to finish getting ready. When you walked out of the bedroom in the long sparkly dark grey strapless dress his mouth almost fell open and his eyes were glued to you, his pupils dilated.

“I have some rules, well if you agree to them, we have to actually act like a couple… you know kissing and stuff and I want you to be yourself… earth to Spencer?” you waved your hand in his face when you realised he wasn’t actually listening to you and his eyes were locked on your body, “See something you like?” you laughed.

Spencer nodded his eyes still barely moving as if he was in a trance.

“Wanna take it off? I don’t mind being late,” you smirked.

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts at your words, “What? No, I can’t, you just look good, you look nice, um hot?”

“Thank you,” you tilted your head to the side with a smile, “So you’re fine with kissing?”

“Totally fine, I mean I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time, I might be bad. I really hope I’m not.”

“Spence, you’ll be fine.”

——————

You had no problem introducing Spencer as your boyfriend to your work colleagues making him wonder if you had done this before, what he wasn’t prepared for though was how highly you spoke of him and the sparkle in your eyes which to him would suggest that you really meant what you were saying. However, when you spotted Lilia Archer across the room you changed. It wasn’t that you seemed shy because you were anything but shy, but until Lilia spotted both you and Spencer it was like you was trying to hide.

You were the first to notice Lilia walking toward the both of you and your first instinct was to pull Spencer closer to you, your lips landed on him in what was meant to be a quick kiss to make Lilia feel at least a tad bit jealous but the kiss didn’t stop at a quick peck.

The two of you felt a spark run through you that neither of you could explain but you both didn’t want it to end.

Once the genius remembered that you were at a party with hundreds of people and not alone in your hotel room he removed his hand from the side of your face and pulled back from the kiss.

His hand fell beside him, catching your hand in his not long after, “That was interesting…”

“It was.”

“Did you mean it or was it because Lilia was coming?”

You shrugged, “A bit of both I wanted to make her jealous but I did mean it, I think you’re attractive and I know I'm not anywhere near as pretty or cool as Lilia Archer-“

“Stop talking like that. You’re perfect how you are, the only reason I didn’t do that first was that I thought for sure no one as confident as you would want someone… like me. And the other reason is Hotch, he is my boss.”

“Come on Spence you’re the most perfect gentleman I’m sure Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, would be more than happy if his daughter was dating his favourite boy genius.”

Spencer took a small step closer to you despite the lack of distance between you already. He cupped your cheeks lowering his head to give you another kiss.

“I know we’ve only been here for an hour but do you want to get out of here?” you said with a giggle.

“Lead the way.”

——————

The two of you couldn’t keep your hands or your lips off each other in the elevator to your floor or in the hallway toward your room.

Once the hotel door was closed you pushed Spencer up against it, kissing his lips passionately as you fiddled with his tie trying to get it off in a hurry.

You swiftly moved on to unbuttoning his shirt once the tie was off, your lips were still connected but now your tongues were invading each other’s mouths.

Separating from each other to take a couple of breaths, Spencer removed his shoes while you kicked your heeled shoes off removing a few more inches between yours and Spencer’s height.

“Bedroom?” you asked him, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers together.

“I didn’t bring condoms with me, I didn’t plan for well this,” he said with a laugh.

“I always have some with me just in case,” you said as you entered the bedroom immediately finding one in your bag while Spencer removed his pants.

“At least you’re prepared, now come here I love that dress on you, you look beautiful but I want to take it off,” Spencer spoke with a rasped tone, his hands running up and down the curves of your waist and hips once you were standing in front of him.

“Take it off,” you whispered.

Spencer stood up from the bed spinning you around to find the zipper at the back of the dress, when he pulled it down he was met with your bare back meaning you had no bra on and only a lace g-string.

Spencer couldn’t help a quiet moan escaping his mouth when you turned back around showing him your exposed top half.

“You’re beautiful,” he said kissing your lips once again his hands finding your breasts.

A few moments later the both of them were fully undressed nothing left on their bodies.

“Can I put it on?” You asked holding up the condom packet.

“Please,” his voice was slightly strained he was so desperate to be inside of you, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

You ripped open the packet wasting no time before sliding the latex over his cock as a groan fell from his lips.

“Can I be on top?” you asked him.

“You want to ride me?”

“Yes, please?” you gave him a puppy dog-eyed gaze earning a nod from him.

“I’m not going to say no to that,” Spencer held your thighs as you positioned yourself in the right place before slipping his cock inside of you.

You moaned as he penetrated you further. Once fully inside of you, you took a deep breath.

“Am I hurting you?” Spencer asked worriedly.

“No! I just need a second,” you slowly began to move up and down your hands placed on his chest to maintain your balance.

Spencer moaned with each small movement, the warmth from your insides felt incredible wrapped around him, he fit perfectly inside of you.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised him as his hip started to jerk in a rhythm that matched your pace.

“I can’t last much longer, you feel so good,” Spencer moaned against your lips, when you leaned down to kiss him his cock angled even deeper instead of you.

You could barely open your eyes as you said, “I’m almost there.” The way you spoke triggered something in Spencer that made him remove one of his hands from your back and move it so his thumb would brush against your clit in circles.

With a few more sloppy thrusts caused by his hips that grazed your g-spot each time combined with him rubbing hard circles against your clit, the both of you came at the same time both with moans so loud anyone would be able to hear them through the walls.

You didn’t pull him out of yourself until you had fully gotten your breath back.

“Oh my god,” you sighed lifting off him and rolling into the space beside him, covering half of your body with the thin duvet.

“Good, oh my god? or bad?” Spencer asked pulling you close to him.

“Definitely good, so good,” You answered.

“Okay good because I agree, you were amazing,” Spencer pecked your lips softly.

“I hope you plan on being my plus one again,” you spoke quietly running your fingernails down his naked chest.

He pulled the duvet up to cover your body a little more, “I certainly plan on it.”

[blackynsupremacy]

TOUCHDOWN

CHAPTER 1

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: your loathing for the sport of college football changes when unexpected sparks fly between you and the star quarterback.

contains: college au, fluff, quarterback!nicholas, strangers to friends (for now), slow burn, opposites attract, mention of partying, swearing, meet cute.

also starring: drew starkey as himself, justine skye as herself.

a/n: based on this request. this is my first request ever, so i hope you guys enjoy it! this will be a series because the idea of quarterback!nicholas has hella potential and i didn’t want to do lazy headcanons. dear taglist, my apologies if my tags are inconsistent! i be writing these sleepy as hell and sometimes i forget. please charge it to the head and not the heart. thank you all for the continued support!

tags: @oscarisaackissmykitty @greengoblinswifey @jkr820 @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @hnch33rios @niteskysx @xoxoglittergossip @titsout4nicholas @hoffmansgirl @hopefully-saturn @austeenbootler @supaprettyg @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @venic-bxtch

the sun rays illuminate the orange, black, and white fan appearal as the roaring cheers of the crowd of the ecstatic student body vibrated and pierced through your ears as you were being dragged by your best friend, justine.

“come on, girl! it’s almost the start of the second quarter.” justine urged, trying to make her way through the crowd with you in tow. her brown eyes focus on the path leading you to the seats printed on your complimentary tickets.

“i don’t know what the hell you’re rushing me for, j! you spent all that time trying to find something to wear.” you retort with a scoff before taking your wrist from her palm in order to search for your seats. once you get a glimpse in the distance, you point.

“they’re over here!” you exclaim to your friend loud enough to hear over the cheering fans. begrudgingly, it was your turn to lead because you’ve barely stepped foot in this stadium.

all week, she had pleaded for you to go to this saturday’s game to support her boyfriend and wide receiver, drew starkey. you kept refusing her plea until she bribed you with the promise of paying for anything you desired from the concession stand. that had to be serious coming from justine because the prices weren’t very reasonable, so you gave in. you’ve met drew on a couple occasions and he was cool towards you for a football player, but you don’t really mingle with the crowd of student athletes at your college. you especially don’t like football or sports in general. it’s pretty ironic considering you’re the head football coach’s daughter, a fact that you keep under wraps from the student population and you wanted to keep it that way. it’s not like you didn’t hate the man. it’s just you and your father had never really seen eye to eye, he was all about athletics, strategy, competition, and winning. meanwhile, you wanted to express yourself in a way that didn’t have to do with his values. you’d rather be reading, writing, creating, vibing to your vinyls, or catching up on your favorite true crime documentaries. you wanted to be left alone to grow into your own identity, but your dad was just too pushy, so that pushed you away from his world of sports.

you were glad that drew had gotten tickets on the sidelines for you both because you didn’t want to call your dad about being here. as you took your seats, you could already hear the buzzer go off to signify the start of the second quarter. you gaze down across from the metal bars to see the line of players spectating from the benches along with your dad pacing across the turfed sideline with his arms crossed and a furrowed expression. you look to see the score, your college scored thirty-five while the opponent is gaining traction with a score of thirty-two. that was a first, this other team seemed to be a formidable force to be reckoned with. you can already tell that your father was going to pop off like that vein protruding out of his bald head. your eyes drifted towards the game, you saw the jersey number fourteen, who you recognized as your best friend’s beau and none other than number one, the quarterback, nicholas alexander chavez. he was basically the top man on campus as he was on the field from what you’ve heard. he had the full ride, the skill, the physique, and possibly the arrogance that came with such a package. you can’t say that know him, but you know of him because your dad had mentioned him numerous times in the past as if he were the son he never had— or, always wanted.

as you observed each play, you saw that drew and nicholas were putting in the best efforts they could to get the team to victory, but today didn’t seem to be their day as they were now tied up. nicholas’ frustration with how these guys were aggressively knocking down his boys was starting to show. he’s even fumbled the ball not once, but twice. he was really off his game. your father talks to the referee to call for a brief timeout. all of the players that were on the field retreat to where their respective teams reside. after huddling them into a circle, you knew it was anything, but a kumbaya. even through the amplified sound of the field, you can still hear your father viciously bark in each of his players’ faces, especially towards nicholas. nicholas stood there frozen as your dad’s finger aggressively prodded in his chest with every single word. the elder huffed out a breath and directed nicholas towards the bench to which he complies with a firm nod and proceeds to do what he’s told. your father tapped another player to take over before it was time for the game to resume. he obviously didn’t notice that his place on the bench was right in front of your seat, but just a few feet away.

“mmcht. that’s a damn shame. nick doesn’t usually get sidelined like that!” you heard justine say, you could see from the corner of your eye that she was shaking her head.

“you’re not wrong. i thought he was putting in work from what i’ve seen, but y’know how my dad be tripping—enough is never enough.” you nonchalantly respond, rolling your eyes. justine shifted the conversation and asked if you needed anything from the concession stand. delighted that she kept her promise, you put in your order and offered to watch the seats. now, that you were alone, you pondered when you gaze at the quarterback.

you’d never say it out loud, but now you were feeling—pity.

a heaviness resided in your chest as you watch who you thought would be this confident, egotistical person with the world as his oyster, carry himself in such a downcast, vulnerable manner. sure, you weren’t fond of the athletic scene nor students, but at the end of the day, they were human. no matter how many plays they ran, practiced, and drilled, there’s always a chance to mess up under this amount of pressure. as soon as nicholas plopped down on the bench, he exasperatingly removed his white helmet and shook the dripping perspiration off his chocolate tresses. with legs spread, he leaned forward as his elbows rested on his thighs. you couldn’t see his facial expression because he shamefully hung his head towards to the ground, his spine raised and lowered with every breath.

this was weighing on you with such intensity. a part of you wants you to mind your business and get this game over with, but another part is urging you to do something that you couldn’t even fathom. after making sure your father was preoccupied, you stand up from your seat and begin to walk towards the benches to the spot where nicholas was. it was strange, really—this was an event that you were indifferent to, but here you are, showing empathy towards someone you barely knew. that’s only because he’s been in the same spot you have. you chide your conscience to shut the hell up for a minute. with each step, you glance around to see if anyone else noticed nicholas’ dejection, but there was still a winning streak to hold up at this college, so the crowd was too loudly absorbed in the game to even care about the quiet turmoil on the sidelines.

this was way out of your comfort zone.

you thought you were going to suffer from a heart attack with the way your chest was pounding. the closer you got to him, the more you could see the tension in his shoulders as his fists and jaw simultaneously clenched. you take a second to read the scoreboard, your school had gained some points, but the opponent was still one point behind with clock of second quarter nearing its end. you’re right behind him and your hand looms over his shoulder as you’re in internal conflict with yourself. oh, what the hell? what have you got to lose? your palm tapped on his shoulder, you stop yourself from shrinking when he slowly turns to see it’s you. nicholas curiously quirked a brow at your presence, you were cute. he silently admired your earth toned skin, full glossed lips, and warm, but strangely familiar brown eyes. your face heated as you felt awkward under his gaze the longer he kept staring. besides football, you could see why he gets play on and off the field, but you had a task you needed to complete. for nicholas, it’s not like he didn’t mind the female attention, but he was in the middle of an athletic crisis, so if you were there to either chat him up or gripe about him not calling back or whatever, all of that could wait, but that sincere look in your eyes made him want to hear you out.

“hey…” you greet awkwardly, but raised your voice loud and steady for him to hear, “if i were you, i wouldn’t beat myself up over this. it’s only one game.” he ran a hand through his hair to keep it from sticking to his face,

“you think so? what makes you say that?”

his brows furrowed, pondering awaiting what you’re about to say next.

“one, you won’t die if you lose and two, aren’t you the one that got us most of these points in the first place?” you quiz by sarcastically counting on your fingers, your eyes flicker to the scoreboard. nicholas takes a moment to think on it and silently confirms your statement with a nod.

“okay, then. don’t let my—i mean, your coach get into your head, he’s just being—a dick, not that i would know.” you quip, still trying to keep your identity a secret, there’s a tension lifted when you hear him chuckle. the sound alone causes a small smile to form on your face before you continue to speak,

“i’m just saying at the end of the day, it’s one game, so don’t trip. besides, you may not know it. but you got value to this team, which is more than i can say for your teammates—except for drew.” intrigued, nicholas was astonished by this. here you were, this random, but cute, girl he didn’t know from a can paint approached to give him a—pep talk? now, there were all types of questions racing in his brain and he was certain that you had the majority of the answers. too bad that time wasn’t on his side.

“hey, i appreciate—” he started, but was instantly cut off by the assistant coach who called out from a distance,

“yo, chavez! you’re back in.”

that was your cue to go. a part of you wished that you got to hear what nicholas had to say, but another part knew that wasn’t possible given that he probably won’t even remember you. this was a huge school with many faces and your crowds just don’t happen to mix, so how could it ever be possible for you both to cross paths again? you send a dejected grin towards him,

“i gotta go. i’ll see you when i see you!” you quickly bade him farewell before he even got the chance to respond, which sucks because you couldn’t be seen by your dad talking to one of his precious players. you make it back in time to sit in your seat and justine happened to sit a few minutes after, carrying your concession orders in her arms. after she hands you your food, she begins to indulge in some popcorn as she observes the game.

“damn, that line was a hot mess! did i miss anything, n/n?” she questioned, her gaze turned to your direction. you didn’t want to tell her about the talk you had with the quarterback, so you played it cool.

“nah, but it looks like dad decided to put nicholas back in.” you respond, pointing to the field where the team are preparing to run another play. as you observe, you notice there’s a change in nicholas. he’s now playing harder than before, the speed in his legs could leave a trail of fire as he continues to dodge tackles and score touchdown after touchdown. the crowd in the stands gets hyped up each time when the home score gets higher with every second ticking by. you and justine were thoroughly impressed by nicholas’ new air confidence as you watched him jump with drew to bump their chests in pure excitement. you found it quite endearing. it was like time was flying as the game progressed up until half-time. while the spirit team runs to the field to prepare for their dance routine, you spectate as your father calls the boys over for a huddle, approvingly talks to them, and relieves them to recuperate on the benches. justine taps your shoulder to get your attention before she directs her thumb to the other side of the benches,

“hey, i’m gonna go talk to drew for a little bit. you wanna come with or…?” she inquires and you shake your head to decline.

“nah, i’ll just wait or go to the bathroom until you get back. say hey to drew for me!”

with a nod in response, justine stands from her seat to journey her way through the crowd to catch up with her boyfriend that sat on the far end. once she was out of view, you took the opportunity to leave your seat and see about nicholas. this time, you didn’t feel as worried as you did when you first managed to talk to him. this wasn’t very much like you, making an effort to talk to someone, let alone a guy for the second time within a span of several minutes. once you’re in the spot from earlier, you lean over the railing to tap his shoulder.

“yo!” you casually greet to him, raising your voice among the noise. nicholas turned instantly to find that it’s you again. with a piqued expression, he still never forgot the previous conversation, nor the questions he had for you.

“oh, hey.” he responds, turning his body fully to you as he chugged on the green gatorade water bottle, “it’s good to see you again—y’know i meant to say that i appreciate what you said earlier. are you like the school’s motivational speaker or something?” he playfully questions, a smile raises on his lips when you both chuckle.

“nah, i just call things as i see it—i see that you got your mojo again.” you shrug, glancing towards field then back to the quarterback.

“damn right! we’re so close to winning, then it’s off to the championship before we know it.”

believe it or not, you found his enthusiasm for the sport to be charming.

“i bet it feels good.”

“what does?”

“to win—like, all the time.”

“honestly, it’s not all what it’s cracked up to be.”

“after witnessing the verbal ass whooping you got from your coach, i’ll take your word for it.” you both laugh again, nicholas sends you a curious stare.

“don’t you think it’s strange that we’re carrying on a conversation and we haven’t even asked for each other’s names?” he questioned, using the towel around his neck to wipe the sweat from his face. “i’d like to at least know the name of the motivational speaker and give her a proper thank you.” there he goes with that charming smile again, but he had a point. you guys were just talking and the thought never crossed your mind. you playfully rolled your eyes,

“since you’re dying to know, it’s y/n.” you went straight to the point of not revealing your last name, you doubt you’ll see each other again, so why bother?

“cute name. it’s nice to meet you. i’m—” he starts to introduce himself, but you cut him off.

“nicholas chavez. you’re quite popular here.” you matter-of-factly state, almost chuckling to play it cool. there’s no way in hell this dude just complimented your name so effortlessly like that. his face is painted with surprise followed by a soft laugh of his own,

“so you knew my name the entire time, huh?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“yeah, just didn’t want to give you that satisfaction. don’t you believe in mystery?” you joke, a smirk rose on your full lips before glancing at the scoreboard for the time—it was about five minutes until half time was over. shit, you kind of wanted to stay longer, but you had to bounce back to your seat before justine or worse, your father found out where you were.

“it was good talking to you, nicholas, but i gotta go!” you say as you hastily back up from the railing. a pang of dread pinched at your chest when you saw his face deflate to one of—disappointment? did he not want you to go? you brush those thoughts out of your head, you had to be hallucinating.

“hey, y/n! wait i—” nicholas was cut off by the buzzer and he watched as you were already on your way back to your seat. damnit, there was one more burning question he had, but now, he had to focus on securing this win.

the third quarter progressed still with the two teams neck and neck. it was now two minutes til’ the last quarter, your school’s team only needed to make it through one field goal to seal the deal. you, your dad, and the crowd sat in anticipation when the ball had been set on the field. it was now on nicholas to determine the team’s victory or failure with just one kick. you don’t know why you were so invested in this game, but you wanted him to make the goal. these last few seconds seemed to go in slow motion as nicholas’ foot drew back then swung forward with a force to connect to the ball, bringing it several feet in the air to send it to its desired destination between the slingshot shaped structure. at only three seconds, everyone, including you and justine were hyped all the way up once was the ball was deemed as going through the goal successfully.

you felt relief wash over you, not only for your college winning the game, nor that it was finally over, but that nicholas could go on about his day without the pressure from your father. as you and justine make your way out of the stadium, you can see her typing away on her phone. she seemed preoccupied as a mischievous smile rose on her face when you entered the parking lot. the sound of her giggles fill the air when you both enter the car. now, you had to see what’s up because it was genuinely freaking you out,

“justine, what the hell is going on?” you inquire. your best friend looks at you from the corner of her eye as she swiftly pulls out of the parking lot.

“drew’s having a party tonight with the team at his frat house to celebrate.” she replied, keeping her eyes on the road. you cross your arms and shrug. you didn’t really care for the college party scene because there’s always some bullshit, so you kept your distance.

“so? he’s always having one, what’s so special about it?”

justine playfully rolls her eyes, but she just couldn’t contain her smile.

“he told me to bring you along because there’s someone who wants to see you there! he didn’t tell me who, but it’s definitely someone from the team. aah, oh, my god! we gotta get you ready right now, girl.”

you sat there quietly, trying to piece this puzzle together. who’d want to meet the most lowkey person of this college at a party? then, you realized after retracing to the first conversation you had with him, you mentioned your association with drew.

it all became clear: it was none other than your school’s quarterback, nicholas chavez, who was requesting for you to be there. just when you thought there wouldn’t be a chance in crossing paths again, now it was your chance to step into something unexpected.

[lecsainz]

main thing

request: charles + a famous actress who is about 2 years older than charles and has a daughter from another relationship, but the biological father is not in the picture (or he is an idiot)

pairings: charles leclerc x actress!reader

authors note: man, it took me almost two days to write this, ugh! hate getting that writer's block in the middle of something I start. I was like, "come on brain, why you gotta do me like that?" but nah, it wouldn't cooperate. so frustrating!

✩. . . masterlist !

PART TWO

Age Gap Romance Takes a Dark Turn, Leaving Y/N Struggling with Broken Heart and Baby Daughter

By TMZ Entertainment News

Hollywood's buzzing with the latest shocking breakup, and this time it involves rising starlet Y/N Y/L/N and her much older ex-boyfriend, a prominent music mogul. As the dust settles, insiders reveal that the split was anything but amicable, leaving the 28-year-old actress devastated and facing heartache alone with their baby daughter, Sophie.

Sources close to the couple paint a picture of a once fairy-tale romance that crumbled under the weight of immense pressures and a significant age gap. Y/N and her ex, whose name we won't disclose for legal reasons, initially captured the public's attention with their whirlwind love affair.

Despite the initial bliss, the relationship quickly took a tumultuous turn, with the insider sharing, "It was a rollercoaster from the beginning. The age difference played a big role in their clashes, but Y/N was deeply in love and believed they could make it work."

However, cracks in their love story started to show, and rumors of disagreements and heated arguments circulated throughout Tinseltown. Our sources indicate that the final straw came when the music mogul reportedly abandoned Y/N and their infant daughter, Sophie, leaving her shattered and blindsided.

"It was like he flipped a switch," another insider revealed. "He just walked away, leaving Y/N and Sophie to pick up the pieces. It was a shock to everyone, even those closest to them."

The breakup was described as "dramatic and emotional," with Y/N left grappling with the aftermath of his sudden departure while caring for her baby daughter. Friends of the actress confirm that she's going through an incredibly tough time, trying to navigate single motherhood while nursing a broken heart.

"It's heartbreaking to see Y/N going through this," said one close friend. "She's a strong woman, but this has taken a toll on her. Sophie is her world, and she's solely focused on being the best mom she can be for her daughter."

As for the music mogul's actions, sources claim that he has shown little remorse for the way things ended. "He's been dismissive and unapologetic," one industry insider revealed. "It's like he's moved on without a second thought, leaving Y/N to pick up the pieces."

For now, Y/N is surrounding herself with a support system of friends and family, relying on their love and encouragement during this challenging time. Hollywood is buzzing with the news of the breakup, and fans around the world are sending messages of love and strength to the young actress.

As this Hollywood drama unfolds, the world will be watching to see how Y/N navigates her way through heartbreak and single motherhood. We'll continue to bring you the latest updates on this gripping story, so stay tuned for more.

ynupdates

liked by charlesleclerc , selenagomez , and 28.879 others

ynupdates sun, sand, and summer vibes with yourinstagram and the girls! beach day in monaco is lit! no room for negativity here – just good times, laughter, and making memories with our faves y/n and selenagomez! and of course, little sophie is the cutest beach babe ever!

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selenagomez ❤️❤️❤️

f1addiction CHARLES WHAT YOU DOING HERE??

ynmoves my girl looks so happy 😁

ylngomez i LOVE this friendship

lecslerccc charles that’s is a move?

saaaainz he just liked is nothing to worry 😭

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[rene-spade]

Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

[loojii]

Constellations as blue aliens! I made these last year, only uploaded them on Patreon Aquila, Cygnus, Pavo, Canis Minor, Canis Major, Boötos, Minor Leo, Lepus, Lupus, Cetus, Centaurus, Orion

For more info about them see the lore dump under the line ~

Aquila the eagle constellation. A myth tied to the constellation tells about Zeus, who transformed himself into an eagle, and kidnaps a pretty boy to be the cup bearer of the Gods. This boy was of course Aquarius. So the characters are friends! Or well, Aquila pressures Aquarius into doing dumb stuff and Aquarius can't say no (in a way kidnapping him for a good time). Aquila's outfit is based on an eagle as well, with white on top and dark on the bottom. He, and other bird constellations, have feather like hair! He is the younger brother of Cygnus and Pavo, and the older brother of Columba and Corvus (they're a big bird family!)

Cygnus the swan constellation. A myth tied to the constellation is that about Zeus, who again transformed. He got a woman pregnant and from that a set of twins were born, one mortal and one immortal. The twin being Gemini, of course. So the character here is best friends with Gemini (she seems to be the only one that is able to handle him). Since Gemini's alpha and beta star are actually the twins, she often visits them and favors Pollux, the immortal twin from the myth. She's like a fun aunt! Another myth tells about a lover being lost or something, drowned in the river depicted by the constellation Eridanus. So she probably doesn't like her that much.

Pavo the peacock constellation. One of the myths tied to the constellation tells about a monster with many eyes that was able to act as a spy for Hera. As a thank you she put his eyes on the peacock feather and the monster himself in the sky. The constellation also depicts the captain of a ship, who are also depicted by several constellations. I don't know what to do with that part yet for this character, maybe those constellations admire Pavo as a teacher? But as for the spy part; this guy obviously loves gossip and always knows everything about everyone. He is the oldest of the bird siblings!

Canis Minor the lesser dog constellation. In the sky the dog is seen hunting Lepus, together with Canis Major and Orion. So all three of them, the characters, dislike her of course! He is always seen hanging out with Orion, following him around and being his yes-man. He's the younger brother of Canis Major naturally

Canis Major the dog constellation. Another yes-man of Orion. I like to take inspiration from myths and science when it comes to their personality / relationships but sometimes I just go by vibes too. And what I feel is that Canis Major gets awfully flustered when Ursa Major is around (yes its solely based on the fact that both of them are the only ones with Major in their name). He does not know how to deal with her overly friendly demeaner and gets kinda angry

Boötos the herdsman constellation. In the myth tied to this constellation a herdsman was killed due to his bad whinemaking skills and his daugther and dog moarned him so much that they died too. The daughter was seen as Virgo and the dog as Canis Major. So the characters are friends! Boötos also has Canes Venatici (the hunting dogs constellation, no design yet) next to him, but the reason that constellation doesn't take on the role of the dog in the myth is because it was first known as Bo's staff. So that character would also be friends with him of course! Maybe part of the dog family? But I'm not sure yet. Boötes has multiple friends but he especially adores Virgo, in his eyes he can do nothing wrong and is the depiction of perfection. Many see Virgo that way but Bo is just a bit more extreme about it. The constellation is also seen hunting Ursa Major in the sky, so maybe they don't have a good relationship?

Minor Leo the lesser lion constellation. I was actually unaware this constellation excisted until I did this project. He is Leo's biggest fan and follows him around. Despite the name they are not related, they're just great buddies! The constellation at one point was planned to be changed into the lioness constellation, but eventually this didn't catch on. So this guy here is sometimes mistaken for a girl!

Lepus the hare constellation. In the sky the hare is seen being hunted by Orion and his two hunting dogs (Canis Major and Minor). So this character of course hates them. She's very quick on her feet and tries to outdone Orion every time she can.

Lupus the wolf constellation. The wolf is also being hunted in the sky, this time by Centaurus. So he dislikes him as well. But he's almost always silent and hangs out with Lepus a lot. It has nothing to do with their myths or anything. They just have similar names and are both being hunted, so I declared them buddies. Lepus always knows what Lupus means, without saying a word, and they are often spotted hanging out (Lupus following Lepus around)

Cetus the whale constellation. Cetus is the unofficial 14th zodiac sign, having the sun in its constellation for just one day. To represent this Cetus (the character) is engaged to Sagittarius, to one day become part of the Zodiac family (but he said yes when they were children and doesn't want to anymore, because who in thei right mind regocnizes Cetus as a Zodiac sign). The myth tied to Cetus is that of a sea monster who only came out of the sea to eat a beautiful maiden. Cetus (the character) is very insecure and never leaves her house. She's the big sis of Ophiuchus, the 13th Zodiac sign

Centaurus the centaur constellation. No, it's not Sagittarius. Both Sagittarius and Centaurus are depicted as centaurs in the sky and because of that their myths are sometimes mistaken for one another. So this guy here is very often mistaken for Sagittarius. But he's taller, better looking, stronger, more mature, etc. The myths of Centaurus go crazy and he's literly tied to everyone. In the discord server theres the ongoing joke that Centaurus is actually the main character. So this guy is just a very popular guy that everyone (excepts Sagittarius, who hates him with the might of 30 suns) likes! He is actually nice and unaware of Sagittarius hatred. Lupus, the wolf constellation, also doesn't like him but he's not as vocal about it as Sagittarius.

Orion the hunter constellation. Orion's myth he was a great hero who was defeated by a little scorpion. He and the scorpion were put in the sky but he's still avoiding the scorpion till this day (they are never seen in the same sky). The scorpion in question is of course Scorpio. Orion (the character) absolutely hates Scorpio and avoids him at all costs. He is seen hunting a hare (Lepus) in the sky together with his two hunting dogs (Canis Major and Minor). So this character of course is buddies with the two dogs and they all hate Lepus.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

we'll see

toxicbabydadd!chris x birthdaygirl!reader

warnings: toxicccccc, rough, unprotected sex (dont be dumb) biting, choking, the word 'then' a million times

-

ITS A REAL BITCHES BIRTHDAYYYY

your house is full and everyone's drunk. except you. 

you have to say sober, because you're breastfeeding your daughter aaliyah. 

but you don't have to be shitfaced to have fun, so when you hear your song come on, you tap your best friends shoulder. 

you've had a routine to freak hoe since high school so she knew what time it was. you move through the routine with no grace. throwing ass is not elegant but it's what you do best. 

"WE ATTTTEEE!" she yells over the music.

"AND DIDDDD!" you shout back. 

"IM NOT DRUNK ENOUGH!" and with that, she's gone. off to make herself another drink, leaving you to go to your room to call the sitter and pump. 

but as soon as you enter, you see chris standing in your room, on his phone. he looks up when he hears me. 

"what the fuck?"

"i just wanted to give you your gift and leave."

"so you went to my bedroom?"

"i saw you dancing with celine. i didn't wanna kill your vibe."

you scoff at this and sit on your bed, bringing out your phone. "you killed my vibe when you fucked someone else while i was 8 months pregnant with your baby."

"aight, bro, chill."

"fuck you."

chris walks around your bed and stops right in front of you. his waist dangerously close your face. he places his hand under your chin, gripping your jaw. 

"watch it, mama."

WOOOOOOOOOSHHHHH just like that. panties ruined.

but tina aint raise no bitch so you stand up, roll your eyes and walk over to your dresser to fix your lashes.

"or what, chris?"

"you know what."

"i really don't" you said bluntly. "you don't get to have the whole 'i'm sorry, please let me cum' thing anymore due to the fact that you're a cheating whore that i no longer love."

hearing that must have pissed him off because he was on you in an instant. his lips on yours, his left hand applying beautiful pressure to your throat, his right hand squeezing your ass.

your head grows fuzzy. its like he has crack on his tongue and is intoxicating you with each stroke of it. 

you don't have time to think of the hurt he caused as he moved from your lips, to your neck, then to your chest. 

then he's on his knees. pushing your dress up your hips and kissing down you waist sucking hickeys onto your thighs. 

"you think that shit's funny?" he growls, biting the meat of your inner thigh. "talking shit to me, after i've been trying to get you back for months?"

this made you laugh. "you'll never get me back chris."

he turned you around so your front was pressed against the wall. his fingers gripped the edges of your panties, guiding them down your legs, biting your ass and smiling when he saw the mark of his teeth in your cheek.

"we'll see."

and then he was standing up, your back to his front, and you felt him on your bare ass, his sweats doing  little to hide the effect you clearly had on him. 

you felt his hands grip your hips and move you from the wall to your dresser, so you could see yourself. 

"i want you to watch." he slid his bottoms down to knees, freeing him of his his restraints. "i want you to watch me ruin you." 

and then he was sliding in you with so much force, you jerked forward, throwing your hand up on the mirror to brace yourself. and in that moment you remembered why you'd let him get you pregnant. 

this man was a fucking beast. 

he was fucking you like it was all he could do to stay alive. hard, fast, and so, so, fucking good. he was so deep, hitting the same spot that made you taste purple. all your senses were out the window yet you felt everything he was doing. you felt his hand digging into your waist, you heard his grunts of pleasure, you saw his eyes trained on where you were joined. 

he looked so.... fuck. 

all you could do was grasp at the edges of your dresser and keen for him.

until you felt him move impossibly faster and his fingers reach under you and draw quick circles on your clit. then all you could do was tremble in his arms and reach behind you to push him away because it was beginning to be too much. 

he used his free hand to pin your arm to your back and use it as an anchor, digging deeper in you so you felt more of him than you thought there could be. 

"oh fuuuck-" you gasped. 

"you don't love me anymore mama?" he forced out. 

"chris- shit! please...." you cried out. "i'm gonna-"

"hold it."

"no! please no." you begged. 

"you wanna cum?"

"yes please, chris" you were a mess at this point. eyes rolling back as you tried to do what he'd asked. you knew that if you came before he'd allowed it, you'd never leave this room. 

"do you love me?"

as much as you wanted to say yes, you refused to let him win so easily. 

"no."

this only pissed him off because he shifted from fast and hard to slow, deep, torturous strokes that made your brain go blank. 

"jesus fucking..."

"you sure?"

"i don't know..."

"i think you do mama." his pace on your clit was the same demonic speed as before, confusing your mind. "all you gotta do is admit it and you can come all all over me. i want you to make a mess for me. i wanna feel you all over m-"

"FINE FUCK!" you cried. "i love you."

"that's my girl."

that's all it took for his pace to restart, pounding into you with ferocity. 

"cum, mama. cum for me." 

and you did. you sucked in a deep breath and slammed your eyes shut as you shook on the dresser. 

all you heard was the blood rushing in you ears as you let go of everything you'd been holding for the past 2 minutes. 

"shit, babe. i'm gonna-"

that snapped you back into reality. you did not want any more kids right now so you gathered all the strength you could and turned around, dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth.

your head rested on the drawers of the dresser as you felt his load shoot down you throat with a moan that can only be described as godly. and when he pulled out of your mouth he pulled you up to your feet by your throat, kissing you with so much passion, you were ready to go again. 

but then he pulled away and gripped your face so you were looking into his eyes. 

"you'll always belong to me, y/n."

niyah speaks rushed as helllllll but hapy late birthday!!! @55sturn

taglist: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @thisisntmattsturniolo @chaossturns

[ao3-rex1223]

𝕿𝖔 𝕭𝖊 𝕬 𝕶𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉𝖞: 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: SFW, pure fluff, warm Christmas vibes, family photos, Leon being a good dad, raising a child, child's first Christmas, present opening

Summary: You and Leon have a lovely baby girl and she gets to experience her first Christmas. (This takes place in the same universe as my very first Leon Kennedy fic, To Be A Kennedy)

“Smile!” The chipper photographer directs, hoping that the simple word will be enough to get your one year old daughter to look at the camera and look even slightly happy. Her chubby cheeks bunch up even more as her mouth widens in an adorable grin, not at the direction of the well meaning camera man but at the jingling stuffed bunny with bells around its collar being dangled by the flamboyantly dressed elf. Jingle Bell Rock plays softly in the background and snow falls outside, covering the city in a fluffy, white, but frozen blanket. 

Click!

You relax your face and let out the breath you held. One good picture. You just want one good picture of your family. You, Leon, and Annabelle. Your husband nuzzles the crown of your daughter's head affectionately. “You did so good, pumpkin!” he coos, rocking her slightly in his arms. She's such a daddy's girl, always happy to have him holding her. Of course, she loves you, too; hell, you feed her with your body - at least part of the time since she started baby food. But when she's truly distraught, Leon is always able to soothe her. 

And Leon is wrapped so tightly around her tiny, little finger, you're surprised there's any circulation. It's hardest when he's away on a mission, though he does his best to only take ones that are a few days or less. You have pictures and videos of him so Annabelle can look at him whenever she wants. You even took one of his old T-shirts and fashioned it into a shirt for her teddy bear so it smells like him. You spray his cologne on it every time he leaves for an assignment.  

“Would you like to see?” The photographer asks gently, offering you the camera. You glance at the small digital screen, smiling at the sweet picture, Annabelle’s bright smile lighting up the entire image. You pay for a few nice prints to send to friends and family and continue perusing the mall. Annabelle babbles as she takes in the sights, Leon bouncing her occasionally. You both take note of the things that seem to catch her eye; ideas for her Christmas presents. Mostly, she awes at the big ornaments and lights decorating the walls and ceilings. 

Later that night, you and Leon begin setting up the Christmas tree while Annabelle plays with her toys. Eventually she crawls over by the tree and grabs a part of the string of lights, beaming at their bright colors. She makes an adorable babble and puts one of the lights in her mouth. You and Leon chuckle. “Ah, the unique methods of children for discovering the world and its flavors,” Leon comments. He hooks another ornament on the tree. 

“And textures,” you add with a chuckle. You gently pick her up, kissing her cherubic cheeks. She reaches for the glass balls decorating the tree but you quickly shift away, just out of reach. 

“Ah!” Annabelle cries in protest, reaching even further for the tantalizing orb. “Ball!” She adds, chirping one of the few words she knows so far. 

“Sweetie, that's glass. Not safe for you,” you gently explain, knowing she can't fully understand you. She starts to cry, reaching for the shiny, colorful ball so much, she's practically dangling from your arms. You bounce her gently, attempting to soothe her. Walking to her pile of toys, you pick up a baby safe ball for her to play with. She ignores it, continuing to scream and reach for the thing she can’t have. 

Leon walks over, sitting down next to the two of you. Annabelle crawls into his lap, needing her papa to make her feel better. “It's okay, pumpkin. Daddy's gotcha.” He lightly kisses the crown of her head. “You have so many nice toys here to play with!” He wraps his arms delicately around her, offering her the warm snuggles she wants. He gently rocks her and soon her cries begin to wane. “That's my brave girl!” he praises and nuzzles her forehead, eliciting a soft giggle from her. 

The beautiful scene makes you smile lovingly. Watching Leon be there for her, comfort her, and care for her is one of the greatest gifts you could ever receive. Crawling back down, she grabs her baby blanket and crawls under the Christmas tree, laying on her back and looking up at the faux fir. She giggles as she grasps the metal branches, securely in place, and the plastic green needles. Eventually, she grabs her toes and sways back and forth. 

Your heart swells with love and affection as you and Leon stop decorating and simply watch her absorb the world around her. Once her bedtime rolls around, you scoop her into your arms and feed her one last time, rocking gently in the recliner. When her tiny tummy is full and her eyes begin drooping, you simply hold her as she falls asleep. With a delicate kiss to her forehead, you gently lay her in her crib, tucking her blanket next to her. 

The weeks before Christmas fly by as you and Leon try to finish up everything at the D.S.O. and get all of the presents wrapped. On Christmas morning, you bring a sleepy Annabelle out to the living room where lots of shiny presents lay illuminated under the soft, inviting glow of the lit Christmas tree, just waiting for her to tear them open. 

“She's still booting up,” you joke as you and Leon both watch her rub her eyes and try to process the scene before her, expression blank. After a few minutes, she begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms, reaching for the brightly colored wrapping paper. You chuckle and set her down. She begins tugging and chewing on the smaller presents. 

You hand Leon a present to him from you. “Merry Christmas, my love,” you coo with a soft kiss to his lips. 

Leon smiles, happily returning your kiss. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He swiftly unwraps the box and reveals a beautiful, light brown, leather jacket with wool trim. His eyes widen in recognition, its appearance strikingly similar to the jacket he lost in Spain all those years ago. “This is…”

“I found it a few weeks ago while I was out shopping. I thought you deserved another one.” You wink playfully. Annabelle crawls into your lap and continues nibbling on wrapping paper. 

Leon examines every inch of the jacket, in awe. “Thank you, sweetheart. This is incredible. I love it…and I love you.” He kisses you tenderly and hands you a present from him. It's a gorgeous white gold necklace with a pendant in the shape of a key, accented with small diamonds. Your eyes light up at its beauty. “Oh Leon! It’s perfect!”

“It’s the key to my heart,” Leon explains with a cheeky grin and a wink. His cheesy lines always were a favorite of yours. 

You brush the tears away from your eyes. “Corn dog,” you tease and kiss him lovingly. He chuckles. You turn your attention to the happy child in your lap. “Should we help you open your presents, now, sweetie?”

The rest of your morning is spent helping Annabelle open her Christmas presents; clothes, toys, books, and some winter wear. Sharing your first Christmas as a family brings you joy you never thought you’d experience. From the first day you stumbled into Leon’s arms at the office, your life changed irrevocably, an adventure you never knew you needed, never in your wildest dreams expected, but here with Leon and your precious baby girl, nothing could be better. 

[blooming-violets]

For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace. 

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend. 

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her. 

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!” 

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand. 

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents. 

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!”” 

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else. 

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?” 

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you. 

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?” 

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.” 

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.” 

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking. 

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked. 

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.” 

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?” 

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence. 

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at. 

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight. 

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet. 

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile. 

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing. 

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal. 

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…” 

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.” 

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer. 

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you. 

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies. 

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there. 

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second. 

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused. 

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him. 

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross. 

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!” 

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.” 

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up. 

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet. 

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers. 

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes. 

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.” 

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city. 

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound. 

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.” 

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you. 

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core. 

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken. 

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both. 

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party. 

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile. 

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him. 

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended. 

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile. 

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more. 

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you. 

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable. 

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face. 

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves. 

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a  gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited. 

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger. 

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers. 

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.” 

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression. 

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you. 

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire. 

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker. 

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too. 

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh. 

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker. 

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life. 

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing. 

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him. 

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?” 

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.” 

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes. 

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it. 

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.” 

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”  

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter. 

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate. 

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell. 

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details. 

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear. 

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?” 

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod. 

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead. 

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap. 

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him. 

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear. 

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to. 

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you. 

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side. 

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace. 

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.” 

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself. 

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you. 

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak. 

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax. 

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched. 

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.” 

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright. 

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance. 

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed. 

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. 

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss. 

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. 

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?” 

[kingofbodyrolls]

Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 3: alone

Jimin has never known a feeling quite like this—a strange, stirring warmth that blooms in the quiet spaces of his chest. Could this be love? He wonders, hesitant yet hopeful. When his manager pries into his heart, he finds himself wishing for a different life—one untouched by the weight of fame, where he could love freely, without scrutiny. But even in the shadow of his longing, something beautiful is unfolding. Like frost melting beneath the gentle kiss of spring, his guarded heart begins to thaw, and for the first time in years, he feels his emotions bloom with a life of their own.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers → Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 5.5k → Warnings + triggers: mention of grief and sadness, past character death (Jiwoo), just a lot of FEELS, it’s a bit sad, but also very heartwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: guess who’s back with another chapter? 🙋‍♀️ Yup, it’s time to dive headfirst into Jimin’s world again—because, seriously, how could we not peek into that beautiful, complicated mind of his? Aren’t you curious about what he’s feeling, what’s tugging at his heartstrings, and maybe even what’s making him blush? 🥺💜 I’ll warn you, though—this chapter has a touch of sadness (don’t throw things at me, okay?), but trust me, brighter days are on the horizon! I’m just so soft for this version of Jimin 🥹 So grab your tissues and maybe a warm drink, and let’s get through this together. Happier vibes are coming—I pinky promise! ✨ This whole story is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope you’ll love it 💜

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After sharing his lyrics with you, Jimin feels something shift within him—like a long-buried weight has finally been unearthed, leaving him lighter, freer. The words may not reflect his present, but their roots are deep, tangled in a past he knows all too well. Memories flicker in his mind like an old film reel, and with them comes the ache of loss. He remembers Jiwoo, his best friend, his anchor—and the day she slipped away forever, leaving him adrift with only their six-month-old daughter in his arms. It was a loneliness so raw, so consuming, that it etched itself into his very being. Even now, just brushing against the edges of that memory brings a tightness to his throat, a sheen to his eyes. He sniffles softly, quickly shaking off the tears. He’s already cried enough in front of you today.

It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. If ever there was a time to hold onto light and hope, it’s tonight. The deep dive into his feelings can wait for another day.

With a decisive slap to his thighs, he stands, his gaze falling to you with a mixture of quiet vulnerability and gentle mischief. “Do you want to spend New Year’s with us?” he asks, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he hopes you’ll understand. He watches the surprise ripple across your face, the way your cheeks flush with a warmth that only adds to the glow of the moment. He can tell you’re flustered, and though he knows he has that effect on people, with you, it feels different—so different it makes his chest ache in a way he can’t explain.

He wonders if you feel it too, this invisible pull between you. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, but years in the spotlight have taught him to mask his truest feelings when he needs to. Fame demands it—his private life is his sanctuary, a place the world doesn’t get to see. 

But you? Oh, you. From the very first moment he saw you, something shifted. He couldn’t quite name it then, but he knew—you were different. Special in a way that felt less like fireworks and more like the quiet glow of a candle, warm and steady, drawing him in. At first, he thought you didn’t know who he was, and when he realized he was right, he couldn’t help but smile. You’d heard his voice on the radio, sure, but you hadn’t connected the dots, hadn’t pieced together the face that stared down from the towering billboards. Somehow, that made you even more extraordinary to him.

And that’s what he likes—no, loves—about you. You don’t see him as “Park Jimin, the famous singer.” You don’t seek him out because he’s rich, or good-looking, or because he has a daughter that could soften any heart. No, with you, it’s different. You’re genuine, grounded, with a kindness that feels rare in a world that’s always spinning too fast. And yes, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed how beautiful you are—he’s not blind, after all.

Still, he’s careful, measured, holding back because he doesn’t want to scare you away. You’re a breath of fresh air in a life that often feels stifling, and he’s willing to take it slow. Talking to you is effortless, letting you into his world—even into Hwa-Young’s life—is effortless. And that’s what surprises him most. Nothing about relationships has ever felt easy for him before.

He’s had girlfriends, sure, but they always stopped at the surface. None of them ever cared to ask about the man behind the music, the meaning behind his lyrics, or the little girl who lights up his world. But you? You’re different. A different kind of good. The kind that feels rare, like something he should hold onto.

And God, he’s drawn to you. The way you walk, the quiet strength in the way you carry yourself—it’s magnetic. But there’s something else, too, something unspoken. He can see it in your eyes, in the way your smile sometimes falters for just a moment. You’ve known pain. He recognizes it because he’s worn it too. It’s like a silent understanding between you—guess it takes one to know one.

But he doesn’t push, doesn’t pry. He has a feeling that, in time, you’ll tell him everything, if—no, when—this fragile thing between you blossoms into something more. Until then, he’s willing to wait, to let the moments unfold like petals, slow and beautiful, one by one.

“I’d love to,” you say with a warm smile, and Hwa-Young squeals, bouncing on her little toes with excitement.

“Yay! Do you want to play with me? Dress up?” she asks, her wide, expectant eyes shimmering like stars. How could anyone ever say no to a gaze so innocent, so full of life?

You nod, your laughter soft and sweet, and as you let her tiny hand tug you toward her room, Jimin finds himself standing there, watching. Just watching. And it’s dangerous, the way his heart twists in his chest. A feeling so sharp and unfamiliar that he almost doesn’t know what to do with it. He knows he’s got it bad—knows it with every beat of his heart.

Letting people in has always been a battle for him, a fortress carefully built over the years. But you? Somehow, you dismantle it brick by brick, without him even noticing. Everything about you feels natural, unforced, like you’ve been meant to walk into his life and fill the quiet spaces he didn’t even know existed.

And then there’s this: you with his daughter. It’s a sight that simultaneously fills him with warmth and something deeper, more profound, a kind of ache that’s both joy and sorrow intertwined. Because you’re the first woman he’s ever brought into Hwa-Young’s life, and it means something. No, it means everything.

It’s a big deal—bigger than he can put into words. Since Jiwoo’s death, it’s always been just the two of them. Him and his little girl, navigating a world that sometimes feels too cruel, too empty. Jiwoo had been his best friend, his confidante, and losing her had ripped a hole in his chest that time could only partially mend. He sighs, the memory of her soft laughter flickering like an old, worn-out photograph in his mind.

There are days he misses her so deeply it feels like a part of him is still tethered to that loss. Days when he wishes she could be here, holding their daughter’s hand, watching her grow into the bright little light she’s becoming. Jiwoo had wanted so desperately to be the mother Hwa-Young deserved, but fate had been merciless, stealing her away too soon.

His hand clenches instinctively at his side, a quiet surge of grief, even as his gaze softens. He watches you disappear into Hwa-Young’s room, your laughter mingling with his daughter’s excited chatter. And in that moment, his heart aches in a way he’s never quite known before. It’s a joy so raw it leaves him breathless.

But he knows—he knows this isn’t about replacing Jiwoo. He isn’t looking for someone to fill that void or to be a mother to his daughter. He doesn’t need to. What they have is enough, more than enough. Yet somehow, your presence feels like the universe extending a quiet, gentle gift. A piece of something they never expected but might just be brave enough to accept.

And as he leans against the doorway, listening to Hwa-Young’s giggles and the melodic cadence of your voice, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, there’s a place in his life for this kind of hope.

But in the quiet hum of his studio, he’s drawn back to the promise he made to Jiwoo—the one etched into his soul like a quiet, unwavering vow. He’d held her trembling hand as she made him swear not to let her illness become a shadow over his life. “Don’t waste your days mourning me,” she had said, her voice so calm it still haunts him. It was inevitable, she’d insisted, the way the seasons change or the tide pulls back from the shore. Jiwoo had always been pragmatic, even in the face of the unthinkable.

And though there had never been romantic feelings between them—just a friendship so pure and profound it could have been mistaken for something else—she had asked him to promise one more thing. To open his heart to love, even when the odds would feel stacked against him as a single father.

He had tried. In the ten long years since she’d gone, he’d truly tried. He swears it. But trying hasn’t made it any easier. He’s a man that everyone wants a piece of—for his fame, his fortune, his face. The lines blur so easily, and sometimes it feels impossible to separate real connection from the shallow glow of curiosity. The years have sharpened his instincts, taught him to read between the smiles and the flattery, but it’s still exhausting.

And yet, here you are, in his life in a way that feels... different. Genuine. He knows it in the way you laugh with his daughter, not a trace of pretension in your voice, in the way your kindness feels effortless and uncalculated.

From his desk, he hears Hwa-Young’s bright giggles float down the hallway like sunlight breaking through clouds. Your voice follows, playful and warm, coaxing laughter from his daughter like a secret melody only you know how to play. He imagines the two of you in a swirl of colorful scarves and oversized hats, lost in some imaginative world he’s not sure he’s ready to intrude on.

A small smile touches his lips as he picks up his pen and returns to the half-written lyrics sprawled across his desk. He presses the nib to paper, his hand moving almost of its own accord as the words pour out, raw and unfiltered:

“The room is full, but I’m still alone.The noise fades, but silence doesn’t comfort me.A touch, a laugh—it feels close, but not enough.When did being seen stop meaning being known?”

He pauses, his chest tightening as the song begins to take shape, and a name for it floats to the surface of his mind. Alone.

Still, his thoughts drift back to you and the way you’ve seamlessly woven yourself into his and Hwa-Young’s life, like a thread of warmth and light in the fabric of their days. He wonders if he should go to you, join in your little game of dress-up, or stay here in his solitude, where it feels safer. Where it feels less terrifying to hope.

With a quiet sigh, he sets the pen down and leans back in his chair, glancing toward the open door. He knows that one day, if this thing—whatever it is—between you ever grows into something more, he’ll tell you about Jiwoo. About the promise. About the years he spent searching for what he thought he’d never find.

But for now, he listens. Listens to the soft rhythm of your laughter mingling with his daughter’s, a sound that, for once, makes him feel anything but alone.

Time slips away unnoticed, like sand through his fingers, as Jimin loses himself in the swirl of ink and emotion, pouring his heart out onto the page. Words come slow but steady, a quiet storm inside him finally breaking through. But then—suddenly, like a burst of sunlight piercing the gray—he hears the sound of laughter, light and carefree, and his heart skips a beat.

He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway with Hwa-Young at your side, both of you catching your breath as if you’ve just run through a field of dreams. You’re panting, your face flushed with joy, and the sound of your laughter fills the space, a melody he never knew he needed.

“Daddy, won’t you join us?” Hwa-Young’s giggle rings out, pure and untainted, like a song he didn’t know was missing.

Jimin can’t help but smile—a soft curve of his lips that’s almost foreign to him. His heart, heavy from years of quiet sorrow, lifts a little more. There’s something magical about the way Hwa-Young is dressed, her tiny body a princess in a sparkling tiara, a wand flicking with imagination. And you… you’re wearing one of his oversized shirts, the stripes playful and careless, paired with sweatpants that seem so out of place on you, yet somehow, they fit.

But it’s your smile—so bright, so unrestrained—that tugs at his heart. It’s the kind of smile that feels like a promise, and it fills him with a warmth he’s forgotten how to name. The way you wear the joy of the moment, not just on your face, but in your eyes, makes him stand from his chair without a second thought. He’s suddenly so eager to be a part of it, to feel it too.

Hwa-Young, with her childish enthusiasm, dresses him in one of his finest suits, and he lets her—lets her transform him into whatever she envisions, like he’s part of her dream. Her wand flicks, and with all the gravity of a tiny magician, she declares him a prince, her magic turning the room into a world of make-believe. You, too, are a princess in her eyes, a fantasy come to life.

And just like that, he laughs. Not the careful chuckle of a man worn by the weight of the world, but a real laugh—one that bubbles up from somewhere deeper, freer than he’s felt in years. His laughter is easy, like the spark of something alive inside him, waking up after a long slumber.

And so, Jimin spends his New Year’s Eve not in solitude, but in this sweet chaos of joy and whimsy, wrapped in the warm presence of you and Hwa-Young. Laughter echoes around them, and for the first time in a long time, Jimin feels something other than the sting of loss. He feels, instead, the tenderness of new beginnings—of a life that’s still unfolding, one moment at a time, thanks to you.

“How’s the songwriting coming along?” Seokjin’s voice is warm, his smile soft as they sit together in the quiet corner of a small café. The air smells faintly of ground coffee and fresh pastries, but Jimin is only half-aware of it, his mind tangled in melodies and words. They’re here to discuss business—upcoming concerts, album deadlines—but the conversation always manages to wander.

“Good,” Jimin answers, cradling his cup of tea between his hands, letting the steam rise and settle around him like a small, comforting cloud. His fingers trace the rim absently, his gaze distant.

Seokjin, ever the curious one, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as if the café itself is too public a place for the question he’s about to ask. “I heard something about a girl?”

Jimin’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, the kind he only wears when he’s trying to hide something playful, something personal. He hides his smirk behind his cup, the warmth of the tea burning away the thoughts he doesn’t want to share. “You mean Hwa-Young?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a low, amused laugh escaping him. “No. Not your daughter,” he teases, leaning in even closer, the words thick with mischief. “But she did mention you’ve been spending time with someone?”

Jimin exhales a quiet sigh, the air heavier than before. This is the part of fame he dreads—how every moment, every detail of his life, becomes fodder for public consumption. Why can’t he just be… himself? Why does everything have to be picked apart, analyzed, turned into an interview?

He shifts in his seat, frustration bubbling at the edges of his composure. “Yeah, so what?” The words slip out sharper than he meant, the bite lingering in the air between them. He regrets the edge, but it’s hard to keep calm when the smallest pieces of his life feel like they’re on display. People don’t even know he has a daughter, for God’s sake.

“Is it serious?” Seokjin asks, his eyes darting around the café as if the question itself might cause a stir. He lowers his voice, wary of eavesdropping ears.

Jimin leans back slightly, his gaze distant, as if searching for something beyond the clink of coffee cups and the soft murmur of conversations. He shrugs, the motion casual but not without weight. “I don’t know.”

The words hang in the air, unspoken feelings swirling around them. He doesn’t want to admit to Seokjin how much you’ve come to mean to him. How time, since that night at New Year’s, has blurred into something both beautiful and terrifying. It’s already the middle of January, and yet it feels as if moments with you slip away like sand through his fingers—so quick, so precious, yet never enough.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his world. Into the spotlight that he’s spent so many years avoiding, carefully building walls around his heart and his life. He loves his fans, truly—more than they could ever know—but some of them can’t understand that he wants the same freedom as everyone else. To live without a camera lens always focused on him, to love without the world watching.

Yes, he’s famous—but does that mean he should be denied the simple, human joys of privacy? Does it mean that the delicate, beautiful moments he shares with you should be swallowed up by interviews, headlines, and fans who don’t know the difference between his public life and his real one?

Seokjin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. “You didn’t really answer my question, though,” he says, taking a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze sharp, yet filled with a knowing curiosity.

Jimin feels the heat of a blush creep up his neck. He can’t help it—Seokjin’s right, and it’s embarrassing to realize that he’s been avoiding the question.

“I’ve written a few new songs. They’ll be ready for the concert in May as a surprise for the fans,” he says softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his voice almost like a whisper, as if savoring the moment of creation.

“Great, that’s what I love to hear!” Seokjin beams, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased. Then, his eyes narrow slightly, a hint of something shrewd in his gaze. “If things are getting serious between you and this girl… maybe you should get her to sign an NDA?” he suggests, a brow arched in mild curiosity.

The words hit Jimin like a punch to the gut. An NDA? The thought churns his insides, his chest tightening as if the air has been sucked from the room. He can’t breathe for a moment, the very idea feels wrong. He would never make you sign something like that. It doesn’t fit with what he feels for you, for the way you’ve come into his life so naturally. It’s not about trust—it’s about respect, about wanting you to be free, not bound by some legal contract. He feels a surge of protectiveness, a silent promise he’s made to himself that no one will take this from him.

He shakes his head slowly, the words leaving his lips with quiet finality, “No.”

Seokjin presses, undeterred, his voice a little more insistent, “Think about it.”

Jimin’s mind races, the idea unsettling, twisting like a knot in his stomach. He leans forward, his voice low but firm, as if to make it clear that this isn’t something he’s willing to entertain. You mean too much to him for anything to taint the purity of what you share.

Even amidst the whirlwind of your own commitments, you always carve out the time to watch him rehearse. And in your quiet presence, there’s a warmth he’s come to rely on, a constant he cherishes more than he can say. He sees you, even on the days when exhaustion weighs on you like a heavy cloak, when your eyelids flutter shut and you drift into peaceful slumber on his studio sofa. Your gentle breaths, in sync with the rhythm of his music, wrap around him like a soft, comforting blanket—a quiet testament to how deeply you’ve woven yourself into the fabric of his life.

You’ve done more for him these past months than you could ever know. You’ve been his anchor, his light when everything seemed heavy, and he is more grateful than words could ever capture. Lately, his mind has been racing with thoughts of how he can repay you, how to show you just how much you mean to him without pushing you away. The idea of scaring you off, of overwhelming you with the weight of his heart, haunts him.

He knows his emotions, raw and untamed, are like a tidal wave sometimes. He’s a writer, after all. Feelings are his livelihood, his currency. But with you by his side, watching you stand by him and Hwa-Young, it stirs something deeper within him—a desire to be better, to be more, to share parts of himself that he’s never let anyone see before. He wants to open up more, include you in ways he hasn’t dared with anyone else, not since Jiwoo.

He has stopped playing, the strings of his guitar silent in the air as his gaze lingers on you. The sight of you, so serene, so free in your slumber, tugs at his heart. Your chest rises and falls in a rhythm as gentle as his own. You look so beautiful in your vulnerability, so tender in your quiet repose. You are everything he never knew he needed, and more than he ever imagined he could find.

He sets the guitar aside, the quiet echo of its final note hanging in the air like a fading memory. The studio, once filled with music, now holds only the soft rustling of your breath as you sleep. Gently, he steps away, his heart full of warmth as he moves to the kitchen. A meal is something simple, but it feels like a small offering of care. It’s what you all need after a day filled with so much—comfort, warmth, and the peace of shared moments.

When dinner is ready, the soft simmering of the stove replaced by the inviting scent of home-cooked food, he calls Hwa-Young to the table. But before she can join them, he slips back to check on you. You’re still there, curled up in the same spot, lost in the world of dreams, soft murmurs escaping your lips as if you’re still tangled in the rhythm of sleep.

He approaches you quietly, a gentle hand brushing against your shoulder as he nudges you awake.

You stir, your movements slow and unhurried, as if unwilling to leave the comfort of your slumber. A yawn stretches your body, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze—drowsy, but warm, and full of that quiet wonder he’s come to adore. “What time is it?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep.

Jimin chuckles softly, a sound that feels like a quiet caress. “It’s dinnertime,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “You fell asleep.”

A blush spreads across your cheeks, warm and sweet as you blink up at him in surprise. “You made dinner?” Your voice is soft, like the surprise is a secret between you and him.

He smiles, a slow, easy curve of his lips, and nods. There’s a softness in his gaze that melts a little bit of the distance between you. Reaching down, he takes your hand, your fingers warm and familiar. With a gentle pull, he helps you up, your body falling naturally into his embrace. You’re close, and in that moment, the world feels just a little bit smaller, a little bit warmer. The blush on your face only makes him smile wider, the flutter of his heart quickening in his chest. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I did. Now come eat,” he says with a smile that’s pure and inviting, pulling you gently along toward the dining room.

There, you sit together, the sounds of soft laughter and small talk filling the air as you share the quiet intimacy of a meal. The rhythm of your conversations, the way your voices blend together, is a harmony more perfect than any song. And in this simple moment, Jimin realizes that this—this right here, this quiet peace—is everything he never knew he needed.

Jimin is wandering through the aisles of the grocery store, his thoughts preoccupied with mental notes about what to cook tonight, when a familiar figure catches his eye. Jiwoo’s mother. The sight of her stops him in his tracks, like a memory brought to life. Her smile greets him before her words do—wide, warm, and full of that unchanging comfort that feels like coming home. She’s always been that to him: a second home, a quiet refuge. After all, Jiwoo and Jimin had been inseparable since childhood, and her house was like an extension of his own—where laughter and care lived in every corner.

“Hi, Jimin,” she says, her voice as soft as the years they shared, pulling him into a hug that feels like being wrapped in a blanket of love. She smells like jasmine, just as she always has, and for a moment, he feels like that young boy again, sitting in her kitchen eating snacks after school.

“How are you and Hwa-Young doing?” she asks, her eyes shimmering with affection, the kind that doesn’t need words to convey its depth.

Jimin can’t help but smile, his chest swelling with warmth at her concern. “We’re doing good,” he says, his voice tender, carrying the truth of his gratitude. “You should come by sometime. We miss you.”

Her face lights up at his words, her hands squeezing his arms gently. “Oh, I will. I miss my granddaughter too. And you.” She hugs him again, and he lets out a soft laugh, feeling her genuine affection wash over him.

But when she pulls back, there’s something new in her gaze—a knowing softness, almost maternal, as if she can see the parts of him he keeps hidden. “How are you really doing, my son?” she asks, her tone dipping into a tenderness that strikes a chord deep within him.

For a moment, Jimin falters, caught off guard by her question. The simplicity of it carries weight, peeling back the polished surface he usually presents. He looks at her, his brow furrowing slightly, wondering how she always seems to know when there’s more to his story.

He stays silent for a beat too long, his thoughts swirling, until she tilts her head and clarifies, her tone gentle but knowing.

“Don’t think I can’t tell when something’s weighing on you. A mother knows.” Her smile is soft, warm, and it reaches into a part of him he thought was better hidden. His heart clenches under its glow, the way it always does when she looks at him like that—with the quiet understanding only she and his mother seems to have.

For a moment, Jimin hesitates, debating whether he should say anything at all. But Jiwoo’s mother has always been more than just a mother figure; she’s a safe haven, a lighthouse in his stormiest seas. Her caring has always been constant, and her wisdom? Unshakable. He sighs, feeling the weight of her gaze unraveling him, and he knows he won’t leave this conversation unscathed. So he exhales, surrendering, and lets the truth spill from his chest.

“I met someone,” he begins, the words heavy and light all at once, as if saying them aloud gives them a shape he’s not sure he’s ready to carry. His chest tightens as months of suppressed emotions rise to the surface, like waves crashing onto an unsuspecting shore.

Her expression brightens immediately, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she leans against her cart. “You did? Tell me about her,” she encourages, her voice tinged with curiosity and delight.

Jimin can’t help but smile, the mere thought of you pulling at the corners of his mouth, softening his entire face. He looks down for a moment, almost shy, before speaking again. “She’s… kind. Generous. Loving. She’s wonderful with Hwa-Young, and she makes me feel…” His words trail off, caught in the tide of emotions he’s still learning how to name. It’s all there, clear as day in his heart, but saying it aloud feels like baring himself entirely.

Jiwoo’s mother chuckles softly, her voice gentle and teasing. “Are you in love?” she asks, the question slipping from her lips with such tenderness that it catches him off guard.

Jimin feels the heat rush to his face, a blush creeping up his neck as he nods, shy and unsure, like a boy confessing his first crush. But as quickly as the joy fills him, guilt rises just as fast. He feels a pang of unease, like he’s betraying Jiwoo by pouring out his heart to her mother about someone else.

His gaze flickers downward, his voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know if it’s right. Talking about her… to you, of all people.”

But Jiwoo’s mother reaches out, her hand brushing his arm lightly, anchoring him. Her smile is gentle but unwavering. “Jimin, love doesn’t take anything away from the past. It adds to it. Jiwoo wouldn’t want you to feel like this—she’d want you to be happy.”

Her words settle over him like a soothing balm, easing the tightness in his chest as he lifts his gaze to meet hers. For the first time in a long time, he feels lighter, as though the burden of his emotions isn’t something he has to carry alone.

Without skipping a beat, she senses the weight in his words, the hesitation behind his smile. Her voice is soft, but steady, like the whisper of wind through familiar trees. “Why do you feel guilty, Jimin?”

He stammers, his heart racing as though it’s trying to outrun the truth. “I don’t want you to think… that I’m replacing Jiwoo,” he says, the words trembling on his tongue, heavy with the unspoken ache in his chest.

She smiles—gentle, knowing, as though she’s been waiting for this moment to ease his burden. Her laugh is tender, almost like a coo you’d give to soothe a child, and she reaches forward, pulling him into the warmth of her embrace. “Oh, Jimin. You could never replace her, and I know you never would,” she whispers, her words wrapping around him like the arms he’s missed in his darkest hours. She steps back, her hands lingering on his shoulders, her gaze soft yet gleaming with a mother’s fondness. “I’m just happy—so happy—that you’ve finally found someone. You deserve that, you know.”

Her smile deepens as she adds, with a teasing lilt, “You know, I always wanted you and Jiwoo to get married. That was my dream for the two of you.”

Jimin’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head gently. “I never had romantic feelings for Jiwoo,” he says, his voice steady but kind. “It wouldn’t have worked. We were… different.”

She nods, understanding in her eyes. “Oh, I know,” she says with a wistful sigh. “Your love for her was always different. But a mother can dream, can’t she? You were good for her, Jimin. You made her laugh, made her days brighter. I still remember watching the two of you play in the yard, running and hiding, always up to something. The way you’d joke around like nothing in the world could touch you.” Her voice trails off, and for a moment, she’s somewhere else, lost in a memory that warms her even as it stings. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she murmurs, “I really miss her.”

The words tug at Jimin’s heart, unraveling the thread he’s worked so hard to keep tied. His throat tightens, his vision blurs, and when he speaks, his voice cracks under the weight of his grief. “I miss her too,” he whispers, the words slipping free like petals carried on the breeze.

For a moment, silence settles between them, heavy but comforting, like an old quilt draped over shared pain. Then, she reaches out, her fingers lightly brushing his hand in a gesture so gentle it feels like forgiveness. Her smile returns, warm and encouraging, like sunlight breaking through clouds. “So… this girl,” she begins, her tone playful yet earnest, “Can I meet her soon?”

Jimin feels a blush creep up his neck, but he can’t help the smile that blooms across his face, unguarded and true. “Maybe,” he says softly, the single word brimming with possibility.

In her presence, he feels something shift—an unspoken blessing, an unshackling of the guilt he’s carried for so long. The weight lifts, and in its place, something new takes root. He feels it growing inside him, tender and unstoppable, like the first green buds breaking through winter’s frost. Just as the air begins to warm and the trees stretch toward spring, his heart is unfurling, blossoming with feelings for you that he can no longer contain.

And for the first time in years, he feels the hope of a new season.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94

→ Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12

→ Author’s endnote: Waaaaaah— 🤧😭 Are you crying? Because SAME. My heart is officially in shambles, and I need emotional support ASAP. So, tell me—what did you think of this whole chapter from Jimin’s POV? Isn’t he just so much in the best (and most heartbreaking) way? 🥺💜 Also… let’s talk about Jiwoo 👀 We know she passed away, but the real questions are: how and why? What’s your theory? Spill the tea—I’m dying to know your thoughts!🕵️‍♀️✨

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 17

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst That could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

summary: joel went back to town for help

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 17

masterlist!

previous | chapter 16

next | chapter 18

Joel sat in the dimly lit truck, gripping the steering wheel as his mind raced. Every passing motel sign felt like a twisted beacon of hope, and yet, nothing—just more dead ends.

He couldn’t stop.

The thought of you out there, taken, in some nightmare he couldn't quite piece together, was enough to drive him insane. He didn't know who this man was, didn't know his name, but Joel remembered the handwriting—he'd seen it in guest books at motels, on receipts left behind, under fake names, always a step ahead.

He slammed his fist into the dashboard, frustration bubbling inside him, pulling him under like a riptide.

The FBI was after him, every second ticking down like a clock he couldn't stop. Joel had become the face of a crime he didn't commit, and now the world believed he was the monster. His brother Tommy had no idea about the depth of this nightmare, and Joel wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep that secret.

Ellie kept calling, desperate to find him, but he couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t risk it—not when the only thing that mattered now was finding you. The guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast. He couldn’t protect you. He had failed. But he wouldn't let it end here.

Hotel after hotel, state after state—the same fluorescent vacancy signs blinking back at him, taunting him like the glow of distant stars that could never be reached.

He had been here with you, in these places, laughing in the safety of their anonymity. But now, those memories had turned to ash in his hands. Every room felt hollow, stripped of meaning, just like the heart inside his chest.

The guest books were all the same—fake names, neat handwriting, the kind that made Joel’s skin crawl with recognition. The bastard was mocking him, leaving a breadcrumb trail that twisted and turned like a sick game of cat and mouse.

And Joel, in his desperation, was losing—losing time, losing you.

Two weeks had passed since you were taken, and each second since felt like it carved another piece from his soul. His temper flared now—small arguments turning into wild eruptions with motel clerks who wouldn’t let him see the guest books.

More than once, his hand found itself tangled in the collar of some poor receptionist’s shirt, his voice hoarse, demanding, begging for information. Every time, he had to stop himself, had to remember that he was a fugitive. That the world had turned against him.

Disguises, fake hats, beards—he did what he could to move undetected. But he couldn’t hide from himself. The nightmares came every night, slithering into his dreams like poison, filling him with scenes of you screaming, of blood, of hands he couldn’t reach.

He drowned it out the only way he knew how—pills, whiskey, whatever he could find. His body was exhausted, his mind unraveling thread by thread, as the days bled into each other.

And then the questions started, sharp and relentless, piercing his already fraying sanity. What if you weren’t taken? What if you had seen the news about him? What if you knew everything—Ben, Jamie, the blood on his hands—and you ran? Fled from him, from the monster he had become.

His heart clenched at the thought, a black hole opening in his chest. No. He couldn’t believe that. You wouldn’t. But the thought twisted inside him, planting seeds of doubt he couldn’t shake.

Was it safe to go back? Could he risk returning to town, even in secret, just to see Tommy? To beg for help? But would you be there? What if you were hiding from him? The questions swarmed like locusts in his mind, buzzing louder and louder until he couldn’t think. He had to go back.

***

Ellie slammed her fists on the table, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Tell me where the fuck he is, Tommy. I need to see him.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. His hands rubbed his temples as he tried to keep his composure. “Ellie, I don’t know where he is.”

“You lied!” Ellie snapped, her eyes wide with disbelief. “He’s out there, hunted, I need to find him!”

“I said I don’t know, Ellie!” Tommy barked back, his voice strained with frustration. “We were supposed to meet in Miami, before all this shit happened. But now? I don’t know where the hell he is.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Ellie’s voice trembled with anger and fear, her fists clenched tight at her sides. “You know something. You have to.”

“Ellie, stop!” Tommy’s voice cracked, the weight of the argument pressing hard against him. His eyes were bloodshot, tired, and filled with a desperation he hadn’t shown before. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

Maria stepped in between them, her voice a soft but firm plea for calm. “Both of you, stop. This isn’t helping. We need to think straight about this.”

Silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken fears. Ellie turned away, frustrated, pacing the living room like a caged animal. She had been staying with Tommy and Maria since Joel had vanished, their home feeling more like a prison with each passing day.

That night, the house was quiet. Tommy and Maria were asleep, their babyboy, Luke, stirring occasionally in his crib. But Maria heard something.

A noise—a creak in the floorboards that didn’t belong. She slipped out of bed, moving with the cautious grace of a mother on high alert. She headed to the kitchen to prepare formula for Luke, but then… she heard it again.

Her heart raced, fear crawling up her spine. Was it a burglar? An intruder? She called out for Tommy, but no answer. Grabbing Tommy’s golf club, Maria moved carefully down the hallway, her knuckles white around the handle.

And then a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.

“Shh.”

She froze.

The hand let go, and she spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Joel?!”

Joel’s face was gaunt, shadowed by exhaustion, his eyes sunken deep into his skull. He held his hands up, trying to calm her, but Maria’s body shook with shock and fear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed, backing away slowly, the club still in her grip. The news reports about Joel raced through her mind—murder, fugitives, everything. She had seen him as family once, but now… she wasn’t sure.

“Maria, please,” Joel whispered, desperation seeping into his voice. “I need to talk to Tommy.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Maria’s voice was small now, shaking. “I—" she looked down the hall toward the bedrooms, fear clutching her chest.

“I didn’t do it,” Joel said, stepping closer, his voice low, almost pleading. “I didn’t kill the Gibsons. I swear it.”

Maria swallowed hard, her eyes wide with disbelief. “But you killed the pastor. And the boy.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with a storm of emotions. “I had to. I had to get rid of them to protect her.”

Maria took another step back, her body trembling. Joel could see the fear in her eyes—she was afraid of him now, the weight of his actions hanging between them like a noose.

“Please, Maria,” Joel whispered. “I need to talk to Tommy.”

Tommy awoke to the sound of Maria’s voice, low and strained. He stumbled out of bed, heading toward the kitchen, his heart sinking when he saw who was there.

“Joel? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Joel’s head snapped up, his face a mask of desperation and grief. “Tommy… I need your help. She’s gone.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, gone?”

Joel’s voice broke as he stepped forward, his hands trembling. “She’s been taken. I—I don’t know what to do.”

Tommy stared at his brother, his eyes wide with disbelief. Joel stood before him like a ghost—hollow, ragged, a shadow of the man he once knew. His face was drawn, eyes sunken with sleepless nights and too much whiskey.

His clothes hung off him, sweat-stained and worn, like they had been clinging to him for days. Tommy could hardly recognize the man in front of him. His brother was now a broken mess, standing on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go but down.

“Come on,” Tommy muttered, glancing back at Maria, who was still clutching Luke protectively. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

Maria nodded nervously, holding Luke tighter against her chest, and Tommy led Joel into the living room, the air thick with tension. Once they were alone, Tommy turned to face his brother, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with restrained fury.

“What the fuck, Joel? What have you done?”

Joel’s hands shook as he rubbed his face, his mind racing, searching for words that made sense. But nothing about this made sense anymore. “I didn’t… I didn’t kill the Gibsons. Tommy, I swear to God—someone’s trying to trap me.”

Tommy’s heart raced, every fiber of him wanting to believe his brother, but the weight of everything he’d heard pressed against his chest like a stone. “Trap you? You expect me to believe that? You fucking killed the pastor, Joel! You killed the boy!”

Joel flinched as if Tommy’s words were a physical blow, his shoulders slumping under the guilt he carried like a cross. He looked down at the floor, his voice cracking. “I didn’t have a choice, Tommy. I had to protect her.”

Tommy's stomach churned as he stared at Joel, disgust twisting in his gut. “You had to? Had to what? What the fuck does that mean?” He felt betrayed, a deep wound splitting his chest open. “You lied to me, Joel. You lied to me.”

Joel’s breath hitched, and he lifted his gaze, his eyes bloodshot and full of desperation. “I did it for her. I had to get rid of them to keep her safe.”

Tommy’s head pounded, his world spinning. “Keep her safe? You think killing people is keeping her safe?” His voice rose, barely contained, anger flooding his veins like wildfire.

“The fucking FBI is after you, Joel! Do you understand that? The FBI!” He was yelling now, his words slamming into the walls of the room, reverberating like a storm.

Joel clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I know that! You think I don’t know how bad it is? I didn’t want this, Tommy, but I’m trying—”

“Trying?!” Tommy cut him off, his voice laced with venom. “You fucking murdered people! And you’re telling me you’re trying?” His hands trembled as he stepped closer, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and sorrow.

Joel’s eyes were hollow, filled with an ocean of guilt he could no longer drown. He took a breath, but it came out ragged, as if the very act of breathing was becoming too much to bear.

“I know… I know I fucked up, Tommy.” His voice wavered, soft, broken. “But I need your help. I need to find her.”

Tommy’s heart twisted painfully. He could see the desperation in Joel’s eyes—the same eyes that had always watched out for him, always protected him.

But now, those eyes were clouded with something darker, something Tommy couldn’t reach. “You lost her?” Tommy’s voice was quiet now, raw with disbelief. “What do you mean you lost her?”

Joel’s hand pressed against his forehead as if he could somehow hold his mind together through sheer willpower. “She was taken. Two weeks ago. I don’t know where she is, and I’ve searched everywhere. I’m losing my mind, Tommy, and I need you to help me find her.”

Tommy stepped back, his hand running through his hair as the gravity of Joel’s words hit him. He had never seen his brother like this—not since Sarah, not since Jane. Back then, Joel had crumbled, but this... this was something worse.

The cracks were deeper now, like his soul was unraveling before Tommy's eyes, and every piece that fell apart took something vital with it. Tommy’s anger began to ebb, replaced by a gnawing worry.

“Joel…” Tommy’s voice softened, heavy with concern. “Tell me everything. What happened?"

Joel sat down heavily, his hands trembling as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a crumpled letter. His fingers, stiff and rough with callouses, were unsteady as he handed it to Tommy.

“This man… he’s been followin’ us. Watchin’ her. I didn’t notice at first, didn’t see it until it was too late.” His voice broke, thick with guilt. "I should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve protected her better."

Tommy took the letter, unfolding it carefully, the paper soft with wear, the ink smudged from being handled so many times. As he read, the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing in around him as the words sank into his chest like stones. The man’s words were obsessive, possessive. A predator circling his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“How the hell did you not notice you were bein’ followed?” Tommy’s voice was a low hiss, disbelief and frustration swirling in his mind. “How could you let this happen?”

Joel’s head dropped into his hands, his fingers gripping his hair tightly as if trying to hold himself together by sheer force. “I don’t know, Tommy. I don’t fucking know. I was tryin’—God, I was tryin’ to protect her, but I didn’t see him… didn’t know.” His voice cracked, and the weight of his own failure bore down on him, suffocating him.

“I can’t get them outta my head. The pastor, the boy… I see their faces every time I close my eyes. I did what I had to, but it’s like their ghosts are hauntin’ me. And now she’s gone, and I—"

Tommy's jaw tightened. Joel wasn’t just running from the law. He was running from himself, from the blood on his hands. The guilt was eating him alive, and now, with you gone, it was suffocating him. Tommy didn’t know if his brother could survive this one.

“We can’t go to the cops, Joel,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head. “They’re after you. You step one foot outside, and they’ll hunt you down. You’re a fugitive.”

Joel's eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, locked onto Tommy’s. "I don't care about me," he rasped. “I just need to find her. I can't lose her, Tommy. Not her too. If I lose her…” His voice faltered, and for a moment, he looked utterly broken.

“I can’t go through that pain again. I can't. It’ll kill me.” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Please, Tommy. Please help me.”

Tommy’s heart twisted. Joel had been strong his entire life, but this—this wasn’t strength. This was a man drowning, clutching at anything to keep himself from slipping under.

Before Tommy could say a word, the sound of footsteps echoed softly behind them. They both turned, and there she was.

“Joel?” Ellie stood in the doorway, her voice quiet but full of confusion. Her eyes were wide, full of questions she didn’t even know how to ask yet.

Ellie stood in the doorway, her small frame tense with confusion and concern, her eyes wide and full of unspoken questions that seemed to hang heavy in the air.

For a moment, neither Tommy nor Joel moved—until Ellie broke the silence, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around Joel. The reunion was wordless, raw, and desperate.

She was mad—furious, even—but beneath the anger was relief, deep and overwhelming. She clung to him like a lifeline, her face buried against his chest, and Joel felt the knot in his heart loosen, the guilt he had been carrying since the day he left her finally beginning to lift.

“Ellie…” His voice was rough, laden with everything he couldn’t say. His arms came around her, pulling her close as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. She was here. Safe. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so fuckin' sorry."

Ellie pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “What the fuck, Joel?" Her voice cracked, caught between anger and the ache of missing him. "I thought something happened to you. I thought you were dead."

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the wave of guilt that surged through him. He swallowed hard, the weight of what he had done pressing against his chest.

"I miss you every day. But I—" His voice faltered, thick with regret. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry I left you.

Ellie’s gaze softened, and the anger seemed to drain out of her. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, softer.

She hesitated, looking around the room as if searching for something. "Where is she?"

Joel’s heart sank, and he looked away, his jaw tightening. “She’s gone,” he whispered, the words like knives in his throat. “Someone took her.”

“What?” Ellie blinked in shock, her brows furrowing. "But… who? Her parents are dead. Joel—" She paused, her voice lowering. "Did you… did you kill them? Did you kill her parents?"

“No!" Joel's voice was sharp, defensive. "I didn’t kill her parents, Ellie. But I—" He hesitated, his throat tightening.

"You killed Ben and Jamie." Ellie said bluntly. There was a brief, Ellie stared at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she exhaled sharply.

“You had to,” she said, her tone flat but understanding. "You did what you had to do." Her words were blunt, as if she'd already accepted the brutal reality they lived in.

“They fucking deserved it.”

Joel nodded, the relief almost too much to bear. He’d been so afraid of losing her too, afraid she would look at him differently. But Ellie, somehow, understood. She always had.

Tommy finally spoke, stepping forward. "You can’t stay here, Joel. The cops are lookin’ for you. The FBI is breathin' down our necks. You stay here, and they’ll catch you. Worse than that, they’ll lock you up for life—if they don’t kill you first.”

“I know,” Joel muttered, his voice low, thick with frustration and dread. “I gotta find her. I have to.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, his mind working through the possibilities. “But we gotta be smart about it. No cops. I’ll handle the heat here, keep 'em off your trail, but you—” He pointed at Joel. “You need to figure out who the fuck took her. Any clues? Anythin’ at all?”

Joel’s head spun, trying to piece together the broken fragments of memory. Then, like a flash, it came to him—Chicago. The man, the one who had been following them.

He had seen him, once, back when you had met the man. "Chicago,"

"She tole me about him, I--I don't remember his name, I was too mad at her for talking to people," Joel murmured, his brow furrowing as the memory sharpened. "I gotta go back there."

Ellie, who had been standing quietly, suddenly cut in, her voice determined. “I’m coming with you.”

“No," Joel shook his head, his voice firm. “It’s too dangerous, Ellie. I can’t drag you into this.”

Tommy backed him up immediately. “He’s right, kid. You’re stayin’ here, with me and Maria. We’ll keep you safe.”

Ellie’s eyes flared with frustration, her voice sharp as she threw back Joel’s words. “Like hell I’m staying here, Joel! She’s my friend too! You think I’m just gonna sit around while you go off, risking your life? No fucking way. I’m coming with you. I don’t care what you say!”

Joel’s heart clenched at the fire in her, the same fierce, stubborn defiance that once belonged to Sarah. For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, like the calm before a storm.

“You stay here, Ellie,” Joel said again, his tone cold, trying to distance himself from the heat of the moment. "You can’t come with me."

Ellie shook her head, her jaw tightening. “No, Joel! I’m not letting you—"

“Ellie!” Joel interrupted, his voice growing sharper. “Ellie, stay here! You need to listen to me.”

She was relentless, her words flying out faster than he could rein her in, her emotions flooding over her like a wave. "I’m not a kid anymore that you can just leave behind! I come with you!”

“Ellie. Ellie!” Joel’s voice started to crack under the weight of it, but she wouldn’t stop.

"Ellie! ELLIE, LISTEN TO ME!"

His shout echoed through the room like a gunshot, halting everything in its tracks. Even Tommy flinched. Ellie froze, her wide eyes finally settling on Joel’s face, the sheer force of his voice cutting through her resolve.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy, and suffocating, like the air had been knocked from the room. Ellie’s breath hitched, her defiance faltering as she saw the raw fear in Joel’s eyes—the kind of fear she hadn’t seen since the days they fought to survive together.

Joel exhaled, his voice softer now but broken, each word trembling on the edge of his guilt and his need to protect her.

“I can’t risk you, Ellie. Not you. You stay here, with Tommy and Maria. I need you to be safe, I need you to be somewhere I know you won’t get hurt. If anything happens to you, I... I can't forgive myself. I can't lose you too, not after everything.” His words faltered, but they were laced with the kind of agony that made Ellie’s heart twist.

He took a step forward, his rough hand reaching out, but Ellie pulled back slightly, her face hardening again, though there was now a flicker of something else—something like fear.

"Tommy," Joel turned to his brother, his voice quieter now, as if every word was scraping at his throat, "keep her safe. If I... if I don’t make it back—”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ellie’s voice was sharp again, her hands curling into fists. “You are coming back, Joel. Don’t give me this bullshit! You always come back to me!”

Joel looked at her, his expression full of something heavy and unspeakable. He took another step closer, and this time, when he reached for her, Ellie didn’t pull away.

“Listen to me, kiddo.” His voice was rough but tender, the words thick with a sorrow that Ellie had never heard before.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leavin’ you, for not bein’ the dad you needed. I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways. But if something happens to me… if I don’t come back, you need to promise me somethin'. Don’t... don’t blame yourself. Don’t blame anyone. You need to keep going."

Ellie’s throat tightened, her breath coming out shaky. She shook her head. “No. No. You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Ellie,” Joel said, his voice cracking like a dam under too much pressure. “But this man—he’s dangerous. And I... I have to protect her. I have to protect you. And if I don’t—if I can’t, I need you to live. I need you to keep going.”

Ellie’s hands clenched tighter, and she felt the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. Her vision blurred, her heart hammering against her ribs. "You don’t get to do this," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You come back. You have to come back."

Joel cupped her face in his calloused hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears she didn’t realize had fallen. “I’ll try, kiddo. I swear. But if I don’t…” His voice broke completely, filled with the raw pain of a man who had lost too much. "If I don’t make it... I need you to be okay.”

The room felt suffocating, the gravity of the moment pulling them both into an abyss of uncertainty, where words like “promise” and “safe” were fragile, almost meaningless.

Ellie pressed her forehead against his chest, her fists clenching his shirt as if holding him tighter could stop the inevitable. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.”

"Don't leave me, Joel."

Joel’s heart shattered into pieces in that moment, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t let her see just how terrified he was, how the thought of leaving her again felt like a death sentence. “I'm sorry,”

Her tears soaked into his shirt, silent but heavy, each drop a reminder of how much he had already failed her—and how much more he stood to lose.

Joel swallowed thickly, his grip on her tightening for a moment longer before he finally let go, stepping back. “I love you, kiddo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, and she looked up at him, her eyes full of the kind of fear Joel wished he could take away. But he couldn’t. He could only hope that this wasn’t goodbye.

***

You don’t know where you are anymore. The days and nights blur together in the darkness, the air thick with the stench of rot and decay. It’s been weeks—maybe more, maybe less. Time doesn’t exist here. All you know is the basement—the cold, damp stone pressing into your skin, the stinging scent of mold in your nose, and the unbearable silence, only broken by the occasional scrape of his footsteps above. Negan.

He’s the one who took you.

You barely knew him, barely interacted with him. So why you? Why now? What had you ever done to catch his attention? The questions buzz around in your head like a swarm of wasps, painful and without answers.

The walls seem to close in on you, the darkness thickening with every second. And then you remember—Negan had come to your house once, a visitor to your father. He was "Mr. Smith," you remember his last name.

But you didn’t think anything of it then. Just another face, another stranger. But since that moment, he had been watching you.

Negan had stalked your every move, following you through the shadows like a predator sizing up its prey.

When he visits, he talks. Always talks. As if the sound of his own voice fills the silence. "You and that ol' man of yours... too busy wrapped up in your own little world, huh?" He chuckles, the sound rough and mocking. “Joel’s a damn fool. Thinkin’ he could protect you, thinkin’ he could keep you safe. Hell, he’s worse than I thought, fallin’ for a broken little thing like you.”

His words cut like shards of glass, and each time you hear them, they reopen wounds you’ve tried to keep hidden deep inside.

Negan paces the room, his boots echoing in the small space. “Joel thinks he’s clever, doesn’t he? Killin’ Ben and Jamie to keep you all for himself.” He laughs, dark and low, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the basement. “He’s too damn stupid to see what’s right in front of him. Me.”

The way he says it, the way his eyes linger on you, makes your skin crawl.

“He let his guard down,” Negan continues, crouching beside you. “And when he finally let you out of his sight? Well, sweetheart, that just made things a hell of a lot easier for me.”

You want to scream, to lash out, but you’ve barely eaten in days, and your body feels too weak to even stand. The cold stone beneath you feels like a cage, holding you captive as much as Negan’s gaze does.

“What do you want from me?” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

Negan tilts his head, a cruel smile pulling at his lips. “Want? Sweetheart, I don’t want anything from you.” He leans in, close enough that you can smell the stale scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. “I just want you. That’s it. You’re mine now.”

The bile rises in your throat at the possessiveness in his voice, the certainty in his eyes.

For the past few weeks, he’s tried to feed you, bringing down food that you refused to touch. You’d rather starve than accept anything from him. Negan would sigh and shake his head, annoyed but patient. "You need to eat, darling. Can’t have you wastin’ away on me."

His words feel wrong, as if there's something hidden beneath them, something dark that you can’t quite put your finger on. There's always a certain gleam in his eyes when he brings the food—like he’s savoring a secret that only he knows.

And then there’s the smell.

That unbearable, suffocating stench that lingers in the corners of the basement. It smells like death. Like something rotting. But when you ask him about it, Negan just laughs. "Basements get like that," he says with a shrug, but the way he says it, so casual, so dismissive—it only makes you more certain that something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Sometimes, when the hunger gnaws at your insides, you almost consider taking a bite, but something deep inside you tells you not to trust it. Not to trust him. You’d rather die here, in the dark, than give him what he wants.

Negan crouches in front of you now, holding out a plate of food, his voice deceptively gentle. “You need to eat, darling. Can’t have you all weak and broken. I like my girls strong. Healthy.”

His words send a chill down your spine, and though you don’t know why yet, you can feel it—the creeping horror hiding just beneath the surface. There’s something wrong with the food, with him. Something monstrous, lurking in the shadows of his every word.

But what?

You swallow hard, shaking your head again, refusing the meal he offers. Negan’s smile tightens, but he doesn’t push. He never pushes. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he rises to his feet, looking down at you with that same dark amusement, like he’s playing a game only he knows the rules to.

“You’ll come around, sweetheart. One way or another.”

As he leaves, you’re left in the dark, your mind spinning, haunted by the rotting smell and the quiet, nagging fear that whatever is happening here is far worse than you could ever imagine.

The cold seeps into your bones, chilling you from the inside out, but it’s not just the temperature. It’s the gnawing fear, the isolation, the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

You can’t stop thinking about Joel. Where is he? Is he safe? Are the cops after him like Negan hinted? The thought tightens in your chest, like a vice slowly crushing your heart. You can barely believe that Joel—your Joel—killed Ben and Jamie. But as much as it shocks you, a part of you understands. He did it to protect you, didn’t he? The idea brings a strange comfort, a warmth amid the cold. Joel, with his strong hands and quiet resolve, would do anything to keep you safe. You liked that. You needed that.

But then, guilt slithers in, twisting and coiling itself around your thoughts. He did it because of you. Because you’re the one who caused all this. Joel shouldn’t have to bear the weight of it all. He can’t be the one to carry the consequences of what’s happened. You wonder if you’ve become a burden, dragging him into this nightmare where death and destruction seem to follow you both like shadows.

You think about the way he used to look at you, the way his rough exterior would soften just for you. His voice, gravelly but so full of warmth, whispers in your memory. You miss him, desperately. His touch, his scent, the quiet strength of his presence. It’s like a piece of you has been torn away, leaving you raw and bleeding, open to every cruel word Negan speaks, every cold gust of air in this filthy basement.

At night, when the world is silent and the shadows stretch long, you imagine Joel’s arms around you, holding you close like he did so many times before. You imagine his breath against your ear, telling you everything would be alright. You wish it were true. You wish Joel were here, with his fierce protectiveness and the way he could shield you from the world, even when it seemed like everything was falling apart.

But you are alone. Alone in the dark with nothing but the echo of your thoughts and the suffocating weight of fear. You’re terrified—terrified to death, even. And it feels like no one will ever find you, like no one will ever know the hell you’re living in. The walls around you seem to close in, and the only thing that keeps you from falling apart is the image of Joel’s face in your mind, his voice a faint whisper in the endless night.

Still, the fear gnaws at you, a ravenous beast. It claws at your insides, making it hard to breathe. You are alone, helpless, and trapped. And yet, in the deepest part of you, there's still a small flicker of hope. It burns for Joel. For the possibility that he’s out there, somewhere, fighting to find you. Because if anyone could save you, it would be him.

Days blurred together in a hazy fog of fear and despair. You knew it was days because each morning, Negan would rouse you from the dark depths of sleep with a cold, menacing presence. He brought food—always meat, always raw and dripping with something that made your stomach churn. You could tell he could cook; the way he handled the food had a practiced ease, but you wanted nothing to do with it. Your heart raced as you shrank away, clutching your knees to your chest, desperate to be invisible.

Today, something shifted in him. His patience seemed to fray like an old rope, unraveling under the weight of his anger. “You can’t keep like this! You need to fucking eat!” he shouted, his voice reverberating in the tight confines of the basement like a thunderclap. The plate of meat he hurled at you missed, clattering harmlessly to the floor as you recoiled, your hands shaking, your body trembling with fear.

Negan had always been rough but strangely composed, treating you with a twisted kind of care. But now, his anger was a raging storm, and you were caught in its eye. He lunged forward, grabbing your face with a grip that felt like iron, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you fucking eat, huh?” The fury in his eyes burned, igniting a primal terror deep within you.

“Please, don’t hurt me! Don’t please!” You cried, the words spilling from your lips like a desperate prayer. But his grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he leaned closer, his breath hot and heavy. “I need you to fucking eat!” The implication hung in the air, a dark cloud cloaked in menace, hinting at the horror that lay beneath his twisted motivations.

Then, with a sudden violent yank, he lifted you effortlessly and tossed you onto the lone mattress in the corner of the basement—the only semblance of comfort in this hellish nightmare. It was stained and worn, a grim reminder of all the other girls who had suffered here, and the air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation. “You need to be taught a lesson, huh?” he snarled, looming over you. “You want me to teach you to be obedient? Why don’t you fucking listen to me?”

Your heart raced as dread enveloped you like a suffocating shroud. You could feel the cold, hard reality of your situation settle over you, a weight that threatened to crush your spirit. “Please, don’t hurt me!” you whimpered, the words spilling out like blood from an open wound.

But Negan’s rage boiled over. He pinned you down, his strength overpowering you, leaving you helpless beneath him. A flash of pain erupted as his fist connected with your side, the blow landing like a hammer against glass, shattering the last remnants of your hope. “You should be grateful you’re still alive for weeks!” he growled, his voice a low, menacing growl. “Usually, the other girls only last a few days!”

Each word was a dagger, slicing into you, twisting deeper until you felt like you were drowning in despair. The room spun, and for a moment, you were lost in the chaos—a captive in a horror movie where the monster was all too real. You could see the flickering shadows dancing across the walls, and for a moment, you imagined they were the spirits of all the girls who had come before you, trapped in this wretched place, their cries echoing in your ears.

Every punch, every insult, was a cruel reminder of your fragility, a stark contrast to the flicker of resilience still fighting within you. You thought of Joel, of the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his spirit. You were more than this dark, stinking basement; you were more than Negan’s plaything. But as the blows rained down, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever see the light again, or if you were destined to fade into the shadows like the countless others before you.

In the depths of your despair, you turned inward, seeking solace in the silent echoes of your own heart. You prayed to God, your words tumbling forth like leaves in a tempest, pleading for this torment to cease. “Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “make it stop.”

But even as you cried out, questions fluttered in your mind like lost sparrows seeking refuge in a storm. Why did this always happen to you? Why were you cursed to walk the valley of shadows, where joy seemed as elusive as a wisp of smoke? It felt as if you were trapped in a parable, a cautionary tale whispered through the ages, where the faithful suffered and the wicked thrived.

You thought of the heavens above, imagined them as vast and endless, a tapestry of stars woven with threads of hope. Yet here you were, a solitary figure lost in the darkness, drowning in a sea of sorrow, with the light of those distant stars barely flickering in your heart. Was this your cross to bear? A burden too heavy for a soul so young?

As Negan’s fists rained down, each blow felt like the hammer of judgment, and your spirit ached under the weight of your own unworthiness. You longed to rise like a phoenix from the ashes, to break free from the chains of misery that bound you, but the flames of suffering held you fast. The biblical tales of resilience echoed in your mind, but you struggled to see yourself as part of those stories—would you ever find your own promised land?

“Am I not worthy of grace?” you questioned the heavens, your heart breaking under the pressure of your own doubts. The walls of the basement closed in around you, suffocating you with their cold embrace, and you felt as if you were wandering in the wilderness, lost and alone, with only the faint whispers of angels to guide you. Would there be a miracle that pulled you from this abyss? Would there be a shepherd to lead you back to the light?

But with each passing moment, the weight of your prayers felt heavier, like a stone cast into a bottomless well. You wondered if your cries reached the throne of heaven, or if they were swallowed by the darkness that surrounded you. “Why, Lord?” you pleaded, your voice cracking under the strain of your emotion. “When will my soul find peace? Why must I suffer while others walk free?”

In that moment, as the pain throbbed through you like a pulsing heartbeat, you realized that perhaps your suffering was not in vain. Maybe the storm would pass, and in its wake, you would emerge transformed, a testament to resilience and strength. Perhaps you were not merely a victim, but a warrior cloaked in shadows, fighting for your own light.

And so, with every ragged breath, you held onto that flicker of hope, whispering your prayers into the void, trusting that somewhere beyond this darkness, there lay a promise of redemption—a divine plan waiting to be unveiled, just beyond the horizon of your pain.

[astraystayyh]

MASTERLIST

all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.

OT8

╰┈➤ series.

༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)

༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)

༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.

༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.

╰┈➤ headcannons.

༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.

༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.

༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.

bang chan.

╰┈➤ one-shots & series.

༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.

⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.

⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.

༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.

⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.

༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.

⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.

༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.

⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."

༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.

The impromptu proposal.

A few hours before the wedding.

The wedding and the morning after.

༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.

⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.

"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.

༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.

༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.

༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.

༊*·˚ chan's hugs.

༊*·˚ chan comforting you through an anxiety attack.

lee minho.

╰┈➤ one-shots & series.

༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.

⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.

⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.

༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.

⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember

༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.

⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."

༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.

༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ mine.

༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.

༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.

༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.

seo changbin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡

⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"

༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.

⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.

in which jeongin (your brother) catches you making out with changbin in the kitchen.

hwang hyunjin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.

⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

༊*·˚ Starry night | museum guide!reader x idol!hyunjin. f.

⟿ in which you fall in love with hyunjin through paintings.

༊*·˚ Breathe | model!hyunjin x photographer!reader. longing and pining. f.

༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.

⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?

"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."

༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)

༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.

༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.

⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.

༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.

⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.

༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)

⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.

༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡

⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.

༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.

⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.

༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.

⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.

༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ serenity.

༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.

༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.

༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.

༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.

༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.

༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.

༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.

༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.

༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.

han jisung.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.

⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."

༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.

⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.

༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.

⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.

"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."

lee felix.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.

⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"

༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.

⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ red lollipop.

༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.

༊*·˚ cooking with felix.

kim seungmin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡

⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."

༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.

⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.

༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.

༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.

༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.

yang jeongin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.

⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.

"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."

༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.

⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.

༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.

[parkitrighthere]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Masterlist for Tangled in Love and Destiny ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Seven friends dive into the messy world of love and relationships! Jungkook, the CEO with a mysterious vibe, gets all tangled up with his new secretary, while Jimin can’t help but crush on an actress who’s got her own baggage. Taehyung is stuck in an arranged marriage he hates, and Seokjin is trying to win over a wife who just doesn’t see how great he is yet. Namjoon’s looking for a second chance with a woman from his past. Hoseok is head over heels for his sassy manager, and Yoongi, the grumpy CEO, can't resist the girl next door who lights up his world. Through all the drama, heartache, and unexpected twists, these connections show that love can really thrive, no matter how tangled things get!

1. BLACK ORCHID PROJECT

Pairing: Jungkook x Secretary!Reader

Tags: Romance | Suspense | Psychological Thriller

Jungkook is the enigmatic CEO of a major conglomerate with a haunting secret—he can hear everyone’s thoughts. But when Y/N becomes his new personal secretary, she’s the only person whose thoughts remain silent to him. Intrigued and unsettled, Jungkook is drawn to the mystery she presents, not realizing that their connection will unravel secrets neither of them are prepared to face

(Mystery | Slow Burn | Supernatural Elements)

Read here

2. TEARS AND TEMPTATION

Pairing: Jimin x Actress!Reader

Tags: Romance | Angst | Drama

Jimin’s life has always been about supporting others, until a gala introduces him to an actress who pulls him out of his carefully crafted world. She’s running from a painful past, and Jimin’s love becomes her escape—except she’s still in love with someone who broke her heart. A storm of passion, pain, and longing awaits.

(Angst | Forbidden Love | Passion)

Read here

3. ARRANGED HEART

Pairing: Taehyung x Arranged Marriage!Reader

Tags: Romance | Angst | Drama | forced proximity

Taehyung, forced into an arranged marriage with his father's best friend’s daughter, can’t stand the idea of being tied down—especially to her. Yet, as life throws them together, the hate starts to unravel, and love begins to grow. But love isn’t easy when resentment runs deep.

(Enemies to Lovers | Arranged Marriage)

Read here

4. ONLY YOU

Pairing: Namjoon x Single Mom!Reader

Tags: Romance | Second-Chance Love

Years ago, Namjoon let you slip through his fingers. Now you're back—divorced and working in his company, raising a child on your own. Namjoon isn’t about to waste his second chance, but love after heartbreak is never easy, especially when old wounds still ache.

(Office Romance | Second Chances | Single Parent)

Read here

5. CELESTE

Pairing: Seokjin x Wife!Reader

Tags: Romance | Drama

Seokjin orchestrated his own arranged marriage, but even after six years, his wife still loathes him… or does she? He’s perfect in every way, but she’s blind to what he offers. As the years go by, will she finally see the man behind the mask? Or will he always remain the one she’s forced to love?

(Marriage | Unrequited Love | Emotional Manipulation

Read here

6. ALLEMANDE

Pairing: Hoseok x Manager!Reader

Tags: Romantic Comedy | Idol AU

Hoseok, the ever-cheerful idol, has one weakness: his sharp-tongued, no-nonsense manager. She keeps him in line, but when their professional boundaries blur, he starts seeing her in a whole new light. She might be his manager, but he’s about to manage her heart.

(Idol Life | Rom-Com | Opposites Attract)

Read here

7. UNDER THE BLUE SKY

Pairing: Yoongi x Neighbor!Reader

Tags: Romance | Grumpy x Sunshine

Yoongi, the grumpy CEO, never believed in love at first sight—until he saw her on a rainy street. He kept his identity hidden, but when she moves in next door, things start to get complicated. Her sunshine personality clashes beneath the surface, sparks fly. Can this sunshine melt his cold heart, or will their differences drive them apart?

(Grumpy x Sunshine | CEO AU | Hidden Identity)

Read here

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler.

[rats-hyperfixation-corner]

gg ship tier list bc fuck it (explanations under cut)

F

Asuka x HC: i don't like mentor and mentee dynamics, also i headcannon HC as aro/ace and really not wanting a relationship unless it's for the memes

A.B.A x Ramleathal: i don't want ram to get hurt

all the bedman ones: isn't he like at most in his teens?

I-no x HC: i don't think i-no likes HC at all

Millia x zato: i think their dynamic is more father/daughter. i just think that makes Zato's redemption far more interesting

D

Sol x Ky: let them be rivals

May x Chipp: why? i think they'd kill eachother

Chipp x Nago: why? (pt.2)

Bridget x Sin: would be great friends, but i can't see them as a couple

Gio x Goldlewis: see above

C

crushing apathy for all of them

B

Pot x Gabriel: i like it

Johnny x leo: a fun himbo x himbo bRomance

I-no x Jack-o: the silly

Goldlewis x Vernon: i get he hates his job, but old man yaoi

Bridget x jam: i wish i could tell you. i just think it's fun

April x May: they give comedy duo vibes, and comedy are always homoerotic

Anji x Chipp:

Anji x Asuka: Anji flirting with the dude who blew up his home will always be funny

Asuka x I-no x Raven x Jack-o: i would not want to be next to their booth at dennys. so i like it

Asuka x Raven: (see april x may)

A

Asuka x Sol: weird enemies to lovers that i like

Sol x Axl: i like the idea of the comic relief x the MC

Ky x Dizzy: not the best but im a sucker for cannon, and their marryed

Chipp x Answer: nerd x dumbass. i like it

Leo x Ram: i think it's super cute

I-no x Axl: LORE

Millia x Elphelt: wasn't expecting to like it as much i as do, but i find it sweet

S

Robo-ky x Venom: my sillies

Slayer x Sharon: dandy

Johnny x Testament: my other sillies. also fanartists do better with this one

A.B.A x Paracelsus: i love these two

Baiken x Anji:

Aria x Sol: most of the plot comes from this so yeah it's a given

Sol x Jack-o: super wholesome ,and also I tend to like cannon ships a lot