#surprise there is no smut this chapter!!!

[gurugirl]

Intuition | bfd!harry

Summary: Harry's got a surprise for you.

A/N: It's been a while! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluff, breeding kink, age gap

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist

Harry was up to something. You knew he was. You’d been around him long enough to know the signs that he was keeping a secret. He was trying to act normal. All lovey with lots of touches. He came home from work that evening with this look on his face like he had a secret he wanted to tell you but had to wait.

“What is it? What are you smirking about? I can tell you want to say something,” you poked his ribs after he got out of the shower and you stood next to him in the bathroom in front of the mirror.

“I’m not smirking,” he smirked.

“Yes, you are!” You laughed and pointed at his reflection in the mirror.

He licked his lips and tried to hide his smile but the dimples remained deep in his cheeks as he turned toward you and wrapped you in his arms. He was still damp after his shower. The towel around his waist tucked in well so it didn’t slide off when he moved his hands up your back and pulled your face to his, pressing his mouth against yours.

He was definitely hiding something. Trying to distract you. And the distraction did work eventually when he got your clothes off and tossed you in your bed and shut you up by making love to you.

“You want a baby? Yeah? Want to be a mommy, Y/n?” Harry was driving into you deep and then pulling out to his crown over and over again, long deep, slow strokes that had you at his mercy.

And you did want that. Harry’s divorce was finalized. It felt like it took so long and the stress that you two went through was difficult but it had been worth it. He was done with Mrs. Styles, who was going to be changing her last name back to her maiden name. You didn’t feel elated about it all, but it was nice to have that chapter over with. You’d never fully recover from the guilt of what you two had done but you couldn’t help that you’d fallen in love with him.

“Put a baby in me, Harry. Want to make you a daddy…” you moaned when he smacked his hips against yours with a thud.

And even though he was already a dad you loved saying it like that. Telling him you’d make him a daddy and he’d talk about making you a mommy and it was so hot. And truth be told, being off birth control had boosted your libido and you wanted it all the time. You hadn’t realized the way your hormones would react to going off it.

“Fuck me, sweet girl… Gonna put a ring on this finger,” he groaned as he took your left hand in his, weaving his fingers between yours and gripping your jaw with his other hand, “Gonna be such a good mommy to my babies…”

The bed under your back was creaking as he thrust and your pussy was so wet the sound would have been comical if you weren’t so gone for it. Gone for Harry.

“Mmm… get it in there deep, just like that…”

Harry rocked into you, keeping his hips glued to yours and you inhaled sharply at the pinch in your cervix. Every time he shoved himself all the way in it ached but you only wanted more and more. Loved that he was tucked into you so far that when he’d come there was less distance for his sperm to travel to get where you wanted it to end up.

“Like that, baby?” Harry looked down at you and tightened his hand around yours as you trembled and puffed out a loud moan, “Gonna come on my cock and let me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes!”

Harry’s deep groans were egging you on. It felt so good. It always did. Harry was a good lover. The best lover.

The front of his muscled thighs were pinned against yours and when he dropped his mouth to your lips you couldn’t hold back a moment longer.

Pulsing and clenching around him as he licked into your mouth, your head was blurry and your heart was pounding and then his orgasm rocked his body as he let out a strangled cry and pumped everything he had into your tummy.

And needless to say, you were out like a light once you’d gotten cleaned up and he tucked you into bed, holding you in his arms and the conversation about what he was hiding was once again on hold.

.                 .                 .

“You’re still here?” You looked at the clock on your bedside table and over to Harry in bed who was stretching his limbs and yawning.

“Mmhmm… Took off today.”

You grinned and rolled toward him, placing your palm on his chest, “That’s nice. Is there a reason you took off?”

That look again. The one that said he was holding something in appeared and he smiled at you, his hand cupping your face, “There is a reason. Yes.”

“Okay. What is it?” You cocked your head with your eyebrows raised.

“A surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“A surprise? Oh, come on! Tell me what it is!” You sat up and got to your knees with a wide grin, “You gotta tell me what’s going on!”

Harry’s soft eyes dropped down over your tits and your tummy and he grabbed your hips, bringing you down to his chest, “You don’t listen very well do you?” He swatted at your bottom making you puff out a laugh, “Said… you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Harry!” You groaned and tried to pull yourself up but he tightened his arms around you so you couldn’t budge.

“Y/n!” He mocked your voice and you laughed at his attempt at speaking in your tone.

“If I give you a blowie will you tell me?”

Harry sat quietly for a moment and let out a breath, “I’ll tell you regardless. You just gotta be patient. But I’ll take a blowie if you’re offering.”

Of course, that wasn’t the answer you wanted so you wound up wiggling from his arms and pulling his t-shirt on before sauntering out of the room to start the coffee.

You were anxious though. You wondered what the surprise was. Why Harry needed to take a whole day off work. What it was he’d been keeping from you…

But there was something else as well; All his recent comments about putting a ring on your finger. You thought it was possible that maybe he was going to propose too. It was no secret that he intended to keep you around. You’d both talked about ‘forever’. Obviously. What with the talk of having a baby and getting a place together.

And there was also the fact that your lease was coming up very soon. So soon it was giving you anxiety because you hadn’t really begun to look for a new apartment, outside of viewing a few houses that were for sale and Harry reassured and told you not to worry about it. You trusted him but there was that little question in the back of your mind that he was perhaps getting things set up for you without you knowing.

Those were just guesses, though. Whatever it was Harry was planning was something you were looking forward to learning.

“What should I wear for this surprise?” You held up a dress against your body as Harry entered your bedroom.

“Whatever you want. Whatever you feel best in.”

“Should I pack a bag? Bring tennis shoes? Will pictures be involved?” You were trying to get it out of him. He wasn’t giving you anything, though.

“No need to pack anything. If you want to wear tennis shoes you can. Just trust me when I say you don’t need to worry. Okay?”

Harry was wearing his typical getup. Jeans and a t-shirt so you just decided to go casual as well. But you did make sure you looked cute. Just in case pictures would be part of the surprise.

He was excited to show you what he’d done. He hoped you didn’t freak out. There were moments when he thought he should have you involved but he wanted to surprise you. Wanted to make it special. He didn’t get lots of chances to do things like this with you. And maybe he’d gone a little overboard on this but he’d committed and couldn’t back out now.

Your mind raced with the possibilities of what he had planned. You felt like it was something big. You braced yourself to be surprised. And boy were you when you pulled into that familiar neighborhood with the cute house you looked at with Harry months before. The one with the yard he couldn’t stop talking about.

“Harry…” you warned in surprise when he pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom house and turned off the car engine.

“What?” He raised his brows at you in question, as if he couldn’t fathom what you were surprised by.

“What is… what’s going on?”

Harry didn’t answer as he climbed out of the car and you opened the passenger door and stepped out, looking up at the house and then at Harry.

He grinned at you and reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys with a pretty pink and silver key chain that read, “Home Sweet Home.”

You covered your mouth when he placed the keys in your hand and then he nudged you toward the house, “Know you loved this place. So I bought it for us. It’s ours. Finished up all the closing of it a few days ago and took today off so we could celebrate.”

Harry had his own set of keys as he unlocked the door and opened it up for you to enter first. You did love the house when you first viewed it.

And now there was a table with dining chairs and a big beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center.

“I’ve put a bed in the master bedroom already. King size. No more double bed for us, baby,” he grinned as you looked around. You were stunned that he’d gone and gotten a mortgage on a house and went through the whole process without you knowing.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

Harry stepped in front of you and pulled you into his arms, “For us. For our family. For you.”

You walked through the house again to get reacquainted. Harry had done the smallest bit of furnishing but mostly it was bare. Ready to be furnished and decorated. The bedroom he had nearly ready. The bed was huge and it had sheets and fluffy blankets atop, a dresser, and a side table on both sides. The ensuite had towels and he’d bought soap and lotion. But when he brought you down to the kitchen the fridge was mostly empty but there was a container of something (something sweet he said) along with a bottle of champagne.

Of course, Harry popped the bottle and pulled out two champagne flutes from the cupboard and you clinked glasses before sipping the bubbly drink.

“To me and you. To forever. I love you,” he spoke as he took your hand in his and lifted it up to kiss your knuckles.

“I love you too, Harry. I know I’ve been really quiet but I’m just processing all this. It’s a shock. But I’m so happy. I can’t believe it.”

You carried your glass of champagne with you into the backyard, which still looked terrible, but it was spacious and Harry shared with you his vision again. What it could look like…

You watched him wave his arms around as he kept looking at you as he spoke, “And this… we can just have a nice patch of flowers. The shade is perfect here and it’ll really brighten up this corner. The tree will need trimmed back but it’s going to be perfect to hang a swing off of and little string lights for nighttime. We’ll put some outdoor furniture on the patio after I clean it all up. Trim out the weeds and fill in the spaces that got overgrown…”

A soft smile covered your face as you watched how excited he was. You were excited too, though. Everything was perfect for you two in that moment. You had the love of your life with you and he had bought a house to make a home in. A place he wanted to share with you. A man you trusted and found yourself falling more in love with every day.

You placed your glass down on the brick ledge near the patio and stepped in front of Harry as he was still yammering on about what he would do with the space and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his pecs, “I love it, Harry. It’s perfect.”

And your hormones were raging as you inhaled his scent and he squeezed his strong arms around you. It didn’t help that he kept talking about children running around, what with you ovulating like you were. You had been keeping close track of it and after months of being off birth control, you were finally starting to feel like your body was adjusting to its natural cycle.

Tilting your head back to look up at him you saw him already looking down at you, “Let’s go test out that bed.”

And now it was Harry’s hormones that were raging. He practically dragged you to the master bedroom and you found yourself testing out the bed just as you asked.

“How do you like it?” Harry panted as he sunk into you over and over again.

You were out of breath as you squeaked out a sound of approval.

“That good huh? Gonna make me a daddy? Gonna let me fill you up with babies, Y/n?”

Harry wasn’t gentle as he pumped into you, harsh thuds against you where he’d grind down every time he buried himself into the hilt. He pulled back, nearly completely out before snapping his hips forward into yours. He set the most delicious cadence, thick shaft filling you and rearranging your insides.

When he slowed down he dropped his mouth against yours, rolling into your wet pussy.

“I’m ovulating,” you breathed against his mouth. You were finally able to speak now that he was fucking into you more languidly.

Harry parted from the kiss with a filthy grin on his face, “Is that right little girl? I get to fuck my come into your fertile pussy?”

“Mmm… yes sir… fuck me til it sticks. Want it so bad. Want your babies and your come…”

The new bed was sturdy, unlike the old one at your apartment. No squeaking or creaking or headboard ramming into the walls… just the sound of your creamy pussy wrapped around Harry’s fat cock and the slap of skin.

It was an excellent way to celebrate the purchase of the new house. A little champagne and a good fucking in the new bed… and hopefully it would end with you pregnant.

You’d never had baby fever or whatever this was. But something about Harry just did it for you. You wanted him in every way. Wanted to show everyone how he was yours, that you’d won, that no one could come between you two. Logically you understood the flaw of that thinking, but logic flew out the window every time he was balls deep; that masculine body over yours, his deep voice saying filthy sweet things in your ear, and his big cock that had you hooked since that first day at your apartment all that time ago.

“Oh my god, baby… look a’that…” Harry shifted himself and lifted your hips so you could glimpse the way he was filling you slowly and pulling back, shiny arousal coating his shaft, “Made for each other.” He began to thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rolled into you, eyes on the action happening where you were connected “Feels good doesn’t it?”

You nodded, “You always feel so good, Harry. I need you…”

He moaned, “I know, baby… I need you too.”

You rocked your hips into his hand as he continued fucking into you until he moved again, tilting himself over you and taking the back of your neck in his big palm, and pressing his lips to yours.

Harry’s hips were glued to yours as he pushed into you, ensuring he stayed nice and deep, massaging your inner walls with every thrust in. The pressure of your orgasm built and built as he lapped his tongue against yours and tucked his cock deeper and deeper until he was no longer rearing back, his pelvis rolling over your clit.

Soft whimpers and pants were muffled from your mouth as he kept your lips occupied with his own.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier as he pressed himself to you and you could feel him trembling. When he moaned against your mouth and rutted in smooth and deep he hit something achy, you simply came undone. Harry had to lift his mouth from yours as you moaned and he gasped at the way you were gripping him and pulsing around him until he couldn’t hold back and pumped into you, stuffing you with his come.

It was a favorite. The feel of his throbbing cock releasing inside you. That way you knew your pussy was siphoning every drop from him and how good your cunt felt on him. His soft whimpered moans as he stilled his hips against yours and twitched until he was milked dry, balls properly drained.

Lying in bed together, limbs wrapped up and sweaty bodies breathing and flushed hot post-orgasm you turned to look at him and lifted your knee, draping your thigh over his hip, “I love you.”

Harry moaned and opened his eyes and pulled at you, his arms wrapping around you, “I love you, baby.”

“I’m pretty sure that was it.”

Harry turned his eyes and looked at you, “What was it?”

You grinned and drew your hand up his strong chest, “Well, we’ll see… but I think you just got me pregnant.”

Harry laughed and you giggled with him. Mostly it was just a tease. You’d have no way of really knowing at that point. But something in your gut told you that there was a good chance of it.

“And what makes you think of all the times we’ve gone at it since you’ve been off birth control that this was the one?”

“Well… it’s been months since I got off birth control and for the past couple of weeks I’ve really been more in tune with my body because of it and my ovulation cycle is starting to get to normal and today my insides were aching and I knew the only thing that would make me feel better was to orgasm and that’s because I’m ovulating.”

Harry grinned and ran his thumb over your neck, “Well I fucked you this morning after coffee, baby. Maybe the one from this morning got you knocked up.”

Biting your lip you slid yourself over Harry and straddled his lap, taking his hands and bringing his palms up to cup your tits, “Either way… feel this?” You squeezed around his hands over your tender breasts, “Haven’t had swollen breasts in a really long time. The ovulation is strong this month. And today it’s at its height. My whole body wants to be pregnant.”

The soft gaze on Harry’s face as he looked into your eyes was full of affection and love as he pressed over your nipples, “Extra fertile today, yeah? Then let me recover a bit and I’ll fuck you again. Just in case third time’s a charm, ya know?”

You laughed, “I mean the day is still early. I think I’m gonna need lots of orgasms today to feel better and you’re just the man to give them to me. Plus, we need to celebrate properly.”

He pulled you down, pressing your chest against his, and groped the globes of your ass in his hands, “Well sounds like I’m gonna have to go buy sparkling grape juice for you, huh Mama?”

You both cackled loudly as soon as he said it. And you both understood it was just post-sex hormones talking in that moment. But you’d know soon enough if your intuition was right. You hoped it was.

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[ancuninfiles]

Comfort pt.2

Screenshots by @astarionposting

Words 4.9K - M/F - Astarion X F! Tav - 18+

Once again, a big ole thanks to @gelican-gelicant Gelican AO3 for beta-reading tf out of this bitch. Shoutout, check 'em out.

Summary: Taking place the morning after their first night together, Tav and Astarion explore one another further before leaving their tented refuge to greet their campmates.

Tags: smut and fluff, oral sex (male receiving), Tav is autism-coded, p in v sex, creampie, cumplay, porn with plot, jealous Astarion (of Gale)

(Read chapter 1 first)

Read on AO3 (recommended)

In the early hours of the morning, the sounds of birds singing and the Chionthar babbling filled the camp. The sky was amber, and dew formed in small droplets on each blade of grass.

The light scattered through the fabric walls of Astarion's burgundy tent, causing the light within to emanate brilliant hues of vermillion. 

Within the ruby veil lay Astarion and Tav, their arms and legs interlocking like a fleshy chain as they faced one another. The tent was tepid and humid with breath. 

Tav was the first to open her eyes. She blinked into lucidity and witnessed the trancing elf before her. He looked like a deva, his skin was so fair that it seemed to glow under the red ambience. 

Tav unlaced an arm from him, instead reaching out to caress his cheek with the backs of her fingers, and his eyes fluttered open. He watched her as she felt the skin on his cheek, then closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. 

Less than a day ago, he had woken up within the walls of Cazador’s kennels, and upon opening his eyes in the morning, he half expected to find himself there again, the last twenty-four hours having been an impossible dream. 

Astarion's skin felt soft under the pad of Tav’s thumb as she admiringly took in his plush lips, and the way his eyes gleamed a gorgeous shade of crimson. 

As Astarion lay peacefully under her gaze, Tav noted that he was cute - unbelievably so, even more than any cat, which his attitude was reminiscent of.

Tav looked Astarion up and down, her image of him unrestricted by the blankets which had come off at some point during the night, leaving them laying in complete nudity, dovetailing calves and feet.

Tav’s eyes danced lower to Astarion’s waist, then paused to rest on his fully erect length. Despite her limited knowledge of the vampyr, the sight of his morning wood still came as somewhat of a surprise - antithetical to what she knew of the classic vampire’s low blood levels, and weak heartbeat. Perhaps it was her blood that rushed through him now?

Astarion watched raptly as Tav’s face changed shades, as her gaze focused on his hardening cock. Surely, as a wood elf, she wouldn’t be faxed by his sunrise salute?

Tav's eyes were wide as they trailed back up to Astarion's face. "I can help you with that."

Astarion smiled. “Oh, don’t you worry. It’ll solve itself eventually.” Tav’s offer only made his girth grow larger, but he knew what it meant to be expected to fulfill someone’s sexual desires out of obligation - and it was not a pressure he felt capable of burdening others with.

“I want to help you, Astarion.” She wore a serious expression. “It would be an honour.”

Tav’s blood rushed to his cheeks and his length. ‘An honour? Gods. This little druid speaks to me as if I am some sort of deity.’ 

He was desperate to hold his composure, but his cock throbbed with want, and, Tav’s earnest stare only further challenged his resolve.

At this moment, he wanted nothing but to lose himself in Tav all over again. To disappear into transient bliss, for however long his body would let him.

Tav unbound their bodies sensually, shimmying herself lower until her head was level with his chest, her left hand resting on his right arm. “Do you want me to taste you, my love?” Her eyes sought his, pleading.

A tight need within his lower abdomen abruptly overcame Astarion. ‘Taste you?’ This couldn’t be. Surely he had died and was being pursued by some ethereal nymph of Mount Celestia. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had offered to taste him; within Cazador’s clutch, it simply did not happen. He was granted eternal life specifically to serve his vampire lord by delivering victims, and most of the time that included fucking them or being fucked by them, and in neither scenario, was he ever a truly willing participant, nor were his needs ever the ones being catered to. 

His cock twitched, a bead of precum beginning to leak from its tip. He choked back a whimper, screwing up his face in repressed pleasure as Tav gazed into his eyes, slowly wriggling herself lower and lower. Expressing his current desire felt like an impossible climb to the summit of a mountain blanketed in ice and snow.

Tav bore witness as Astarion melted into a puddle of yearning, starkly unlike how he had been the previous night - so forthcoming, and vocal. Could it be that he simply wanted it so bad that he didn’t know how to express it? 

Doubt clouded her face then, and she hesitated before continuing, wondering at the cause of his reticence. Does he think he’ll hurt me? Or is he simply lost for words?

Tav paused her descent to say, “It’s not out of worry that I wish to taste you, but out of affection. I’ve spent a mere day in your presence and, despite our tragedy . . . find comfort in it. You make me feel safe, and I want to be connected with you. I want to know you, and to be known by you. I can tell you this most assuredly.” Tav spoke confidently. “But I wish for you to assure me. Please, Astarion. Tell me what you truly desire.”

“You - you want to?” Astarion gazed down at her as his eyebrows canted upwards in a deep, worrisome frown. He reached a trembling hand down to gently cup her cheek with his palm, his thumb tracing her cheekbone fondly. 

“Mhm,” she nodded, smiling endearingly. 

As a result of Tav’s speech, Astarion gathered the resolve to confess his wants, which were warping into needs as his cock began to throb painfully with passion.

Astarion choked out a moan as he began to speak. “I want to fuck your pretty mouth,” he groaned needily.

“Mmm, I can’t wait to taste your cum.” 

Astarion groaned through gritted teeth at Tav’s lewd words.

Tav languidly ran her left hand down his torso, stopping at his pelvis, gently nudging him onto his back before climbing atop his legs, positioning her face over his swollen member. Her right hand came up to grasp the base of his shaft and her tongue grazed his slit. 

Astarion groaned loudly enough that if anyone had been by the fire, they surely would have heard him. He reached his right hand up to fist her hair. It took everything within him not to shove his cock to the very depths of her wanting mouth and have her drooling and gagging until her face went red. 

She placed her lips around his tip and swirled her tongue, wanting to take her time tasting every inch of his beautiful cock. He tasted delicious. His flavour was lascivious and salty. She wanted more of his cock in her mouth and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to continue her teasing for much longer.

Tav lowered her head down onto his length. His cock made contact with her tongue, cheeks, lips, and the roof of her mouth. 

The sensory overload of the scene made her head go numb, from the feeling of his hand in her hair while she sucked on him, to her overwhelming desire to feel her lips at the base of his shaft until his cum leaked down her throat,  his hands roughly pushing and tugging on her scalp all the while.

Tav groaned into his cock wantonly, the soft vibrations of her voice eliciting another shiver from Astarion, his twitching cock leaking more precum into her warm mouth.

The flavour of him was enchanting. She needed to feel his cock fully inside her throat and she needed it now. 

Tav sunk her head deeply onto his shaft, obtaining a whimper from Astarion that was music to her ears. His cock was so deep inside her throat that she couldn’t breathe, and she steadied herself so that she could spend some time down there. With his cock deep enough in her throat to restrict her breathing, she positioned herself to continue more advantageously. She stuck her tongue out above her bottom lip, and it tasted the bottom of his hardened length, wiggling her wet muscle back and forth. 

It was only when she truly needed a breath that she came up, and even still, her mouth never left his cock. She opted to breathe from her nose, which had become slightly stuffy due to her ministrations. It mattered not to her, though. She thought only of the flavour of his hot liquid and the feeling of his hard cock against every fleshy surface in her wet mouth.

Tav began bobbing her head, sucking on him fervently and using her right hand to stroke what she could not easily fit in her mouth. She pumped his cock as more precum seeped out of his hardness, and she lapped up all of his flavours eagerly, moaning deeply onto him.

Astarion groaned through gritted teeth and grasped her hair. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Astarion suddenly craved Tav’s supple wet pussy, and the very idea of cumming inside of it threatened to send him over the edge.

He quickly tore Tav off his cock by her hair, her lips coming up with a pop. Her jaw was slack and her mouth was covered in spend and drool, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to his length. Her eyes were half-lidded and she gazed up at him lustfully.

“Fuck, Tav. I want to cum in your pussy so badly.” He moaned desperately, thrusting his hips upwards.

“Mmm, I would love that, baby,” Tav purred.

Tav ardently climbed up to Astarion with his hand in her hair, searching for his lips with hers. Their lips brushed intimately. She stuck her tongue out to lick his lip playfully, causing him to grip her hair more tightly, smashing their lips together. His tongue sought hers with desperation as he groaned wildly into her mouth, her hips grinding frantically against his.

Tav could feel his wet, hard length bouncing on her bum. Though her core was still sore, a reminder of their previous night together, the thought of him using her further, filling her still-coated walls with even more of his seed, turned her brain into a puddle of desirous soup. 

Astarion pulled Tav from his mouth by her hair and she groaned in pleasure through her teeth. Letting go of her hair, he then slithered both of his hands down to her hips. Tav sat up and placed her hands on his toned, freckled chest, lifting her pelvis cooperatively as Astarion used his right hand to align his large member with her dripping core, while his other gripped her hips bruisingly. 

Tav sank onto his cock, taking him in fully, in one smooth motion. She revelled in the feeling of her pussy -  so perfectly sore and wet with his seed, filled with his thickness until her cervix kissed his tip. Her cunt fluttered as she reached a hand to her clit, rubbing circles on her nub and grinding on his large and punishing cock. 

Astarion groaned at the feeling. Her depths were wet and warm. He wanted to feel her release squeezing on him; no, he needed it. He grabbed both of her hips and held her to hover over him so that he could thrust up into her.

He began spearing her over and over. His pace was violent, matching that of her fingers swirling on her clit. Astarion let out a choked groan and Tav screamed in pleasure. 

Tav’s nipples were hard and her tits were bouncing vigorously with each thrust. Salaciously wet sounds as well as Tav’s screams reverberated throughout the entire camp. Their bodies glistened with sweat and Tav’s face was a deep pink. Her hair bounced and her brows were knit upwards. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were half-closed, gleaming burgeoningly at Astarion.

His face mimicked hers in admiration. They were panting and groaning wildly with absolutely no concern for the ears of their companions. 

Tav began to tighten around him. “Astarion!” she screamed his name with great abandon. 

Her walls contracted around him, squeezing him and coaxing out his impending orgasm.

He continued fucking her through her climax. She removed her fingers from her clit as the quivering of her pussy began to slow. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, resting a hand on Astarion’s thigh and arching her spine.

Astarion snuck his hand to her swollen and sensitive bud. Having had enough, she yelped and stooped forward. Astarion took pride in her response, and he groaned in mischievous laughter. He released her clit and she craned her neck next to his head. 

Her neck was conveniently close to his mouth. Astarion, past the point of check-ins, plunged his fangs into her thoughtlessly as his cogitations grew muddy, the thought process of each moment felt more akin to a feral animal, rather than a person.

Tav squealed and sobbed. She couldn’t believe how amazing it felt to have sex with a vampire. She was finding it hard to imagine fucking without being bitten. The feeling of blood flowing out of her elevated the entire experience; becoming woozy and fuck drunk with a throbbing numbness in her throat. 

The taste of Tav’s sweet blood was sending him over the edge. His breath became uneven and his thrusts became unpredictable, as an unbearable and acute tension coiled in his groin. 

He stuffed his entire cock into Tav and pulled her hips onto his length roughly. His mind was submerged into a pool of red, carnal pleasure. And then, release. Astarion’s cum shot in thick, hot ropes into  Tav’s sore and swollen hole.

Her pussy was flooded with inconceivable amounts of the gorgeous vampire’s seed. She whined at the thought of it as well as the feeling of his mouth sucking and licking at her neck. 

He fucked his cum into her hole with an aggressive thrust which caused it to spurt out in all directions and drip down onto her clit. 

Astarion unlatched his teeth and cleaned Tav’s bloodied throat with his tongue. He kissed and sucked at her flesh, lapping up every drop.

He grabbed her ass harshly and then smacked it, leaving a red handprint. Tav writhed and whined on top of him, insatiably grinding her hips onto the tip of his cock. 

Bodies still connected, Astarion wrapped his arms around her in a hug and then rolled her beneath him. He pulled his arms out from under her back and placed his palms to the floor of his tent on either side of her, lifting himself up.

Tav’s knees were hiked up and her arms rested beside her head. She looked wrecked. Her hair was all over the place, her thighs were covered in cum, her lips were red and swollen, and her neck had four bloody puncture marks on one side, now crusted with drying blood.

He pulled out of her with a groan and their juices started pooling out of her and onto the bedroll. He lowered himself onto his elbows and smooched her tired and hot lips. She sleepily reciprocated the kiss and then smiled, sighing deeply.

He lifted his body from her before sitting on his heels. He ran his hands down her legs and squeezed her warm feet. “Thank you, darling. You’ve been divine.” He smiled genuinely, glancing downwards. 

“Hmm, you more,” she hummed. “I’m so exhausted, I just need a minute.” 

“Take your time - I’ll help clean you up, but we should ideally bathe in the river.” 

It pained him to admit that they had to leave their little escape. He was ecstatic about his newfound freedom, but perturbed about the tadpoles.

He wanted to hide away from his problems with Tav for as long as they could manage. He reached two digits to gather up his dripping seed from the curve of her ass and plunged them inside of her.

Tav groaned and wiggled her hips seductively.

“Mmm, baby. You spoil me, but I need to pee, and our campmates are probably waiting for us,” she breathed.

Astarion curled his fingers and pressed his thumb to her clit. Tav whined and he pulled out. 

“Ah, yes, of course. The campmates.” He frowned. 

He grabbed a nearby cloth and poured a splash of water on it with a glass bottle. He wiped Tav down thoughtfully before moving on to himself. 

“Thanks, Astarion.” She purred his name and rolled over onto her side before getting up to stand. She went to open the tent flap, and Astarion eyed her in shock. 

Is she about to just walk out of the tent naked? 

She hunched out of Astarion’s tent and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. Her stance exuded confidence and power. Before her naked form sat the cleric and the wizard, who was fixing breakfast at the fire. 

“Ah, good morning! What’s for breakfast?”

The cleric glanced at her, her eyes scrunched from the sunlight, and she sat atop her knees which pointed toward the fire. 

“Well, you certainly look comfortable,” Shadowheart observed.

The wizard was attentively working with a cookpot. “Good morn-” he began. He then cocked his head back and bore witness to Tav’s bare skin for only a quick moment before darting his face away in shock, unable to finish his sentence. Gale’s face turned beet-red as he forced his wide eyes to stare back at his cookpot where the food had begun to burn.

Tav, however, seemed to not notice his intense reaction to seeing her nude body. “The food is burning, I think.”

And indeed it was. 

“Right, yes! Sorry about that. It’ll be done soon, so if you want to get ready to eat, that would be splendid!” He spoke louder than he intended to without taking his eyes off the food, stirring it to cook it more evenly and not burn it further.

“Yes! I am starving. Be right back,” she said giddily. She pranced to the woods to pee and collect her clothes. She held them under her arm as she walked to the beach. Tav dropped her clothes on the shore and then quickly walked into the water, trailing bubbles behind her. 

She was waist-deep when she sunk herself fully into the water, arms first. Her bum peaked out of the water as she made her way under. She swam underwater into the calm patch of the river and then busted through the surface with a gasp.

All the while, Astarion got his clothes on and gathered his things for the day. Normally, he would have scrubbed himself raw after bedding someone, but he wasn’t as anxious to get clean after sex with Tav. In stark contrast to his “partners” before, if you could even call them that, Tav didn’t make him feel dirty - she made him feel wanted and special. 

Astarion threw on some camp clothes for the time being and then made his way out of his tent.  

“Ah, number two.” Shadowheart looked amused as ever. She sat on her bottom with her palms in the earth behind her, seeming very relaxed. 

Gale was plating their food onto four plates.

“None for me, thanks.” 

“Alright, and are you as naked as our other friend?” Gale avoided looking back at Astarion.

“No, no. I’m not as comfortable in the nude around strangers as our dear Tav.” 

Gale finally glanced back at Astarion. “So, have you two known each other for a while then, previously to this? That’s not the impression I got when I first met you.” Gale looked back at the food, and he made sure it was distributed evenly across 3 plates.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Oh, no. We just met yesterday, same as you.” This wizard is being awfully nosey, Astarion thought. He held his tongue for now, and strode to the water to join Tav. 

He shed his layers, folding his clothes on a rock. He brought a towel and placed it beside where his clothes were. Astarion hesitantly waded into the water, fearing that the tadpole did not also protect him from running water as it had protected him from the sun. It was the first time his skin had touched river water since he was turned, but it wasn’t painful. He took small and careful strides into the body of water until his chest was fully submerged.

The water was warm. But not as warm as Tav, he reflected. Then, a small seed of stress was planted in his stomach. Where is Tav? 

He looked around, searching and shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. Tav was up the river, holding a medium-sized fish in her hand and squatting atop some rocks by more shallow water. Her hair was wet and her toes scrunched and held onto the rock like a monkey. She carefully stood up and strode across the river rocks. 

She is truly, and very unapologetically, odd. he pondered, causing him to giggle. 

She nudely stalked the side of the river, fish in hand. Tav was trekking back to camp again with no concept of modesty. Hilariously ludicrous.

Tav walked back to the fire where Gale and Shadowheart were eating. She held out the fish to Gale, who was scarfing down his breakfast.

Gale peered up to Tav and immediately started a coughing fit as he choked on his food. He looked away and started thumping his chest with his fist.

Tav shrugged and then offered the fish to Shadowheart. 

“He’s the cook, and I’m eating, so you can just put it in that basket.” Shadowheart chuckled inwardly.

“Fine but it will have to be cooked soon or else it will go off.” She tossed the flopping fish into the basket and then stalked back to the beach to put her clothes on. 

When she got there, Astarion was drying off his hair with a towel and he was wearing nothing but his bottoms. 

“Hey! Do you feel fresh?” She smiled with her eyes.

“Yes, and did you get all cleaned up as well?” He smirked and pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Hmm - yeah, but I think I need to take a potion. I really enjoyed myself with you, but I am so sore,” she stated as she started putting her garments on, one by one.

Astarion recalled feeling the same way before. Torturous. “You can help yourself to any of the health potions in my pack if you wish.”

“Aw, really? Thanks! You’re the best!” she bubbled excitedly as she pulled her shirt over her torso.

They journeyed back to the fire together. When they arrived, Gale was organizing the camp supplies and Shadowheart had left for her tent. 

“We’re back, wearing clothes!” Astarion chanted sarcastically.

“Oh, wonderful,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Here, Tav, your breakfast.”

“Oh! Thanks so much!” She walked over to grab her plate of food and then went to sit on the ground across from him. Astarion was still patting and fussing with his hair behind her. She stared eagerly scarfing down her food. 

“Mm, sho good.” She covered her full mouth as she spoke.

“Thank you - I aim to please,” Gale said dryly. “So, you two caused quite the ruckus last night and, ahem,” he said, clearing his throat, “this morning.”

Tav swallowed her food and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She placed her plate down beside her and then got onto her hands and knees. 

Gale watched her as she slowly crawled towards him. His eyes were wide and he leaned back onto his palms. His body tensed as she crept her hands on either side of his lap.

Astarion looked up and watched Tav inquisitively with his brows canted downwards. He was holding the towel in his hand, frozen and staring at the druid.

Gale looked stiff and uncomfortable, but his face was blushing red. Tav’s face was inches from his chest when she inhaled his aura deeply, taking in his scent.

She sat back on her heels and pushed her hair behind her ears. “You can join us tonight, if you want,” she said, sounding sure of herself.

“What?!” Both men yelped in sync.

Astarion’s undead heart stopped momentarily. He knew that he had no ownership of Tav, but the thought of her fucking someone else sent his mind into chaos, his whole body tensed up.

Gale’s length started straining in his pants as he blushed with a dumbfounded expression. 

Tav looked back at Astarion, puzzled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought -” She hung her head, trying to decide what to say next. “I thought everyone would be happy.”

She stood up and glared at Astarion. Her face was going red, and her eyes were glossy. She clenched her fists and took a power stance, similar to the one she had done earlier. 

The sky was grey and cloudy, and the wind smelt metallic.

Tav burst into tears and stormed away into her empty tent, sobbing while she walked.

Astarion and Gale shared a glance before Astarion huffed and then followed Tav. 

When he got to Tav’s tent, she was curled in the fetal position, sniffing with tear-wetted cheeks. She was rocking herself back and forth and gripping at her legs so intensely that it was leaving red marks that would surely bruise.

“Tav, I -” Astarion stood in the entryway of her tent, holding the flap up. “What’s just happened? Can we talk about it?”

“Mhm.” She sniffled and hugged her legs tighter.

Astarion felt a few drops of rain on his back before climbing into Tav’s tent. He sat cross-legged across from her, his hands folded neatly in his lap. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Tav took a deep breath and then slid her feet to uncollapse her legs. She instead grasped her hands together under her thighs.

“I’m not used to this. Being a leader, and these different customs. Where I’m from, love is shared freely; one would be bullied if they ever expressed feelings of jealousy or possessiveness.” She grasped her scalp with both hands and hung her head down. 

“I see.” Astarion glanced away in thought. “Well, I’m certainly not jealous of Gale.” 

“Oh, well, that’s good - but you looked hurt,” Tav sobbed.

The rain started to trickle down on the tent walls. Tav tugged her thighs and gazed up at the roof of her tent. 

“I’m - fine.” Astarion strained his words. He knew he didn’t own her, and that they had just met, but it was in the nature of a vampire to be possessive. He felt stupid having not guessed that the wood elf would be promiscuous and it tore at him, profoundly. He knew that there was nothing inherently wrong with promiscuity, but the idea of claiming Tav as his own personal pet made his thoughts twist. 

He crawled over to Tav, and she rested the backs of her knees. He climbed onto her, and kissed her deeply, nudging her body down with the force of his lips. 

In Tav’s tent, there were no blankets or pillows; they had all been sequestered into Astarion’s tent. So Tav lay back on the hard ground, and shifted uncomfortably. 

Astarion was perceptive of this through their kiss, so he broke the kiss, scooped her and rolled onto his back so that she could, at least, rest on him.

He was so tender and soft. Tav snuggled her head down to his chest and she closed her eyes. She sighed and nestled into his pectorals. 

Astarion gently caressed her head, petting down her hair. 

In one ear, she heard the peaceful pattering of raindrops above her. In the other ear, Astarion’s heartbeat. 

Astarion pondered the idea of sharing Tav with Gale. Could he even get her off? Probably not. If she did fuck Gale, maybe she would realize how unsatisfying of a lover he surely is. She would never want to do it again and then I could keep her all to myself.

But then he pictured Gale’s cock inside her, where he had been just this morning. Certainly, the wizard would not be missed if his blood were to be shed. Astarion fantasized about murdering Gale. It might just be worth it if he can claim Tav.

But what must he do to truly claim her? After all, he’s already bitten her, fucked her, kissed her, held her - what more could she want? What did Gale have that he didn’t? 

The neediness of having to feed.  He thought. Gale won’t take anything from her as I do, well, except for maybe her time that would be wasted while he fails to make her so much as whimper. Pathetic.

Astarion’s head flooded with ideas of who Gale was, and it made him chuckle under his breath, rousing Tav slightly with the vibration of his chest. 

Tav huffed and then snuggled into him tighter. 

The large part of the day still lay ahead of them, as well as a multitude of unknowns - the solution to their tadpole’ed predicament, the events of the day, where they would camp next - but of one thing, Astarion was certain. 

He added one more simple plan to his short list, then; to make Tav, the promiscuous wood-elf, solely and utterly his. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: autism be damned, that woman can catch a fish

#astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x original female character #astarion #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion headcanons

[superhaught]

Yes, Princess (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: FILTH, smut, 18+ mdni, dom!Regina, sub!Reader, afab transmasc reader, little boy, puppy play, collaring, boot licking, bondage, wax play, face sitting, scratching, tickling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, strap on sex

Lawd have mercy on mine and y'alls souls Jesus. This was very fun. You have been warned.

Word Count: 3900, Part 2/?

Part 1

Regina always gets what she wants, and in this case, its using all of her new surprises on her favorite pet.

Explicit content below!

A few days later, Regina invited you over to her place in the same manner as before, for the same treatment. 

You met her at her car and she took you home like usual, though, the time between these two visits was much shorter than usual. It was typical for Regina to take a couple weeks at a time before asking for you again, but not this time. 

Regina held your hand as she led you up the stairs to her bedroom but then she stopped in front of her door and faced you, “I have quite a few surprises for you inside…”

“Surprises, Princess?” 

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, a cheeky grin plastered on her face, “lots of exciting new toys and other things that we haven’t tried together yet. I want to be... more intense with you, tonight…”

Regina knew what all of your limits were inside and out, so you trusted that she wouldn’t ask you to do anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with. But that didn’t mean that Regina wouldn’t push you. 

You nodded your head at the blonde. 

“Words.” She commanded. 

“Yes, Princess. That sounds good.” 

Regina smiled brightly, pleased by your answer, before she took your hand again and ushered you into her bedroom. 

The bed was adorned with an array of new things. 

Regina had equipped the bed with a rigging system that would strap each of your limbs to the four corners of the bed. The cuffs at the end of each strap were black leather with fur linings. 

There was a matching black leather collar with a leash laid out on the bed. 

Beside it, a brand new, all-black strap-on and harness. 

Her bedside table had a blindfold and a body safe candle on it, waiting. 

Regina watched you as your eyes scanned the room and took everything in. She smiled as your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened. 

She trailed a manicured nail down the center of your back as she whispered, “what do you think, baby? This is all for you…” 

“Wow…” was all you could manage. 

“I have some pretty serious plans for you tonight, baby boy. Do you trust me to take good care of you?” 

“Absolutely, Princess.” 

“I want you on your knees for me, baby boy.”

You nodded eagerly and knelt down on Regina’s floor at her feet. 

She gave you a pleased smile and held your chin with her forefinger and thumb, tilting your head up to look at her, “you’re so pretty when you’re on your knees, little boy.”

“Thank you, Princess.” 

Regina walked over to her bed and picked up the collar and leash, “this is the first step, baby. You’re going to be mine, understand?”

You nodded.

She examined the collar in her hands with a smirk on her face, and then ran her hand along the length of the leash before swinging it around lightly and dangling it in front of you teasingly. 

“Take your clothes off for me, puppy.” 

A switch in your brain flipped and you moaned at her words. You nodded your head and obediently took your clothing off, not wasting time, until you were naked and still on your knees in front of Regina’s feet. 

“Be a good boy. All fours, now.” 

You dropped your hands to the ground and lowered yourself to all fours and looked up at the tall blonde with wide eyes. You felt compelled to pant or even whimper or bark even though she hadn’t asked that of you, but you remained silent for the time being.

“Very good, pup… very good. Do you want this?” She held up the collar in her hands and you nodded.

“Show me how excited you are.” 

You nodded more eagerly and let your tongue fall out of your mouth, panting excitedly for her. 

“That’s a good boy. I’m going to put that pretty tongue of yours to use tonight.” Regina smiled and knelt down slightly as she opened up the collar and brought it to your neck, “I hope you’re ready for this, pet. I’m not going to go easy on you.” 

You nodded again. You understood and you were okay. 

Regina maneuvered around the ends of your curly hair at the nape of your neck and slid the collar around until she clicked it into place behind you. The collar was tight but not too tight, the blonde slid two fingers between the collar and your skin to check and she seemed pleased with herself. She then grasped the handled end of the leash in her hand and stood up, giving a sudden tug to the leash that made you lurch forward a bit. 

You yelped on instinct and the corner of Regina’s mouth lifted into a smile when she saw your eyes roll back slightly and heard the faintest whine of pleasure fall from your lips. 

A few minutes past where Regina just examined you collared, on all fours, crouched on her bedroom floor. Knees and palms pressed into her lush rug. Your ass on full display in the air. You, looking up at her expectantly. 

“I just want one more thing before I take you to bed, puppy.” 

You nodded. 

“I want you to lick my boots clean for me, okay baby? Say ‘yes, Princess’ if you understand.” 

Your eyes widened at her words and you glanced down at her feet. She was wearing brand new Docs. You looked back up at her and nodded your ear again, “yes, Princess.” 

You crawled forward and she shortened the leash accordingly, holding you tightly in place. You hesitantly leaned forward and pressed your lips to her leg first, kissing her over her tights, before looking up to meet her eyes, wordlessly confirming if you were doing what she wanted. 

Regina smiled, unbothered. 

You kissed your way down each of her legs, and then started to lick the leather of her boots reverently. 

You stared up at her while you dragged your tongue over her boots and she nodded in encouragement, reaching a hand down to grab a fistful of your hair and tugging you a little by both your hair and the leash, making you fall forward slightly so that you were licking the toe of her boot rather than just the upper. 

“Good puppy,” she praised.

You whined in response and then she pulled on the leash to bring your attention back to her. 

“You did so well. I want you on the bed now, come on.” 

Regina pulled the leash and brought you to standing then wiped some spit off of your bottom lip and chin with her thumb. She giggled slightly before putting her thumb in her mouth and sucking it clean while you could only watch the display and stare at her in awe. 

She guided you onto the bed and laid you on your back, then took her time strapping your wrists and ankles into the leather cuffs at each corner of the bed so that your body was spread eagle for her. 

Regina kept hold of your leash, winding it up around her palm as she crawled onto the bed and straddled your waist. She tightened the leash so that there was no slack at all and then she leaned down and captured your lips in a bruising kiss that brought a throaty moan out of you. 

Regina smirked and bit your bottom lip before pulling away and unclasping the leash from the collar. 

You watched as Regina slowly took off her shirt while straddling you and tossed the garment aside, revealing a black lace bralette that didn’t actually hide anything from view. 

Your jaw dropped open and you stared at her gorgeous body in awe as she dismounted you for a moment to remove her boots and the black pleated skirt with a built-in garter belt that she wore. She slowly slid the fabric down her thighs and then kicked it off so that she was only left in her bra, matching panties, and tights. 

You didn’t know what to do other than just watch her adoringly. She smiled at you and then kissed you again before whispering in your ear, “I wanted to look pretty for you, little one.” 

You moaned, “you’re so pretty, Princess…” 

“Mmm…” she cooed, kissing below your ear, “thank you for saying so…” She sat back up and reached behind her head to tie her hair into a bun. 

You watched her with wide eyes and whispered, “I love you…” 

Regina shook her head lightly, “shh… I don’t want to hear that right now sweetheart.” She finished tying her hair back and then grabbed the blindfold and body safe candle off of her nightstand. 

“Let me out this on you, baby.” 

You nodded and lifted your head off the pillow slightly  and then Regina slipped the blindfold on you, covering your eyes and bathing your vision in total blackness. 

“Good boy. Not too tight?” 

You shook your head, “no, Princess. It’s perfect.” 

Regina lightly scratched her nails down your sternum and made you shiver and then you heard her rustle in her nightstand again then she clicked a lighter on. 

A few seconds later, a hot drip of candle wax landed on your chest. Your body jolted at the sensation and you heard Regina chuckle, but then the pads of her fingers were rubbing the hot liquid into your skin like massage oil and it felt incredible. 

It continued like this for a while. Regina used the candle to drip the hot wax onto your body. She let it pool in the cavern at the base of your sternum, dropped it in a line down your stomach and over your hip bones, dripped it all over your arms and your nipples. The liquid was hot but not to the point of burning. You could tell that it was reddening your skin but it felt more like a spa treatment than something torturous. Regina took breaks to rub the oil into your skin, pausing to tease you by pinching your nipples between her fingers. 

You’d groan and buck your hips and she’d only pinch harder, or twist them, or bring her mouth down and suck on them fleetingly before rubbing your already throbbing clit with her thumb for just an agonizing second then returning to her ministrations with the candle. 

“My poor pup…” Regina teased, “you’re already such a mess for me…” she finished rubbing oil on your chest for the last time and then slid her hand down between your legs and parted your folds with her fingers, gathering up your arousal onto her middle finger. 

“Fuck… Princess… please…” you whined. 

Regina tutted at you, “I don’t think so little pup, puppies don’t get what they want just from whining do they?” 

You whimpered and bit your lip and then shook your head, not daring to try to speak so you wouldn’t whine more. 

“I think you’re going to make me feel good now, okay my baby boy?” 

You nodded. 

Regina fussed around for a moment but made no effort to remove your blindfold. You then felt her readjust her position so that she was sitting herself on your chest and without much warning, she brought her now bare pussy right down onto your mouth and began riding your face. 

You moaned and gave her your tongue. The vibration from your moan made Regina roll her hips and she breathed out, “oh fuck… that’s so good.” 

Being strapped down, you could barely move yourself. You simply had to allow Regina to take what she wanted from you. 

She grabbed onto your hair with both fists and slid her cunt up and down on your tongue, alternating between thrusting herself onto your tongue and rubbing her clit on it hard. She took time to build herself up and then she was just grinding her clit on your tongue until she finally came and drenched the lower half of your face and neck in her cum. 

Regina continued to ride you while her orgasm subsided and you both moaned together before she got off of you and left you alone for a moment while she cleaned herself off. 

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath and then Regina came back to your side and raked her fingernails down your body again. Your body arched off the bed following her scratches and then she pressed kisses onto your raw skin.

Regina got back into the bed and sat down between your legs. She quietly and methodically began to scratch her nails all over your body. You squirmed and twitched, trying to writhe away from the overwhelming sensation. 

But Regina only rewarded your attempts at escape by tickling you with her fingers. She tickled your ribs and your hip bones and your armpits and behind your knees and you couldn’t help but both laugh and squeal while you fought against the restraints and tried to avoid her touch. 

Regina chuckled at you and only continued to tease you with scratching and tickles. To your horror, she eventually brought this treatment down between your legs and she raked her nails over your inner thighs and then she started to rub the swollen bundle of nerves with teasing flicks, “oh puppy, your cute little tdick is so needy…” 

You groaned and thrashed on the bed more as she continued to overstimulate you without any sign of relenting. She pressed her thumb right onto the head of your enlarged clit and scratched her opposite index finger down the centerline of your abdomen. She was not at all intent on making you cum with her touches. 

Your hips bucked off of the bed and you cried out, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

“Shhh shh shh… you’re such a needy little pup…”

You felt the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes from every nerve in your body firing from Regina’s touch, but the tears didn’t actually want to come. You were struggling to even cry and your eyes just burned from trapped emotion.

“Princess… Princess, please…” you could barely manage your words. You gasped between pathetic whimpers, “please, Princess… I can’t…” 

“You can’t? You can’t, what, baby? You can’t take it?” 

You shook your head violently and kept trying to wriggle free to no avail. 

“Such a naughty puppy… I’m so surprised baby, you were so good before, but puppies that whine and beg don’t get rewards do they?” Regina emphasized her question with more teasing flicks on your clit that only made everything worse. 

You were finally pushed over the edge and you began to sob. Your tears were absorbed by the blindfold but you cried out for Regina, “fuck oh fuck! Princess please I can’t I can’t I can’t please please please let me!” 

“Oh is my little one crying finally?” 

You couldn’t say words, you just nodded and continued to cry, helplessly begging for release. 

“My poor, poor puppy,” Regina condescended. 

“Please…” you whimpered, bucking your hips against her hand again and trying your hardest to squeeze your thighs shut, anything for relief, but were unsuccessful in doing so. 

“Okay, puppy… I’ll help now.”

You nearly fell apart at just the words of her acquiescing to your needs but quickly, Regina’s face was between your thighs and she was lovingly sucking your raw and overstimulated bottom growth into her mouth. 

You sighed from the much needed relief but you couldn’t stop crying even as she was giving you what you needed. Your movements were erratic and Regina had to grab your hips forcefully to calm you. 

She sucked your clit between her lips like she was blowing it and she moaned against you, the vibration of her humming sending you over your peak almost instantly. Regina danced her tongue on the sensitive head and you came harder than you ever had.

You could feel Regina’s smile between your legs while she lapped up all of your cum that spilled out of you and down your thighs and you both cried and laughed through the entirety of your climax and the come down, until you finally collapsed in Regina’s duvet. 

Your muscles shook while Regina continued to clean you up with slow licks of her tongue. She kissed your thighs and whispered softly, “there ya go, baby boy… there there…” 

Some time passed where Regina removed your blindfold and gently unlocked the cuffs around your wrists and ankles. In spite of their softness, you had still worn bright red marks into your skin from fighting the restraints, which Regina took the time to kiss while you stretched out and drank some cold water.

You were laying on your side, Regina playing with the curls of your hair, when she whispered, “are you up for more?” 

“More?” You repeated, “that wasn’t it?” 

Regina smirked and shook her head, “no honey, we haven’t even used the new strap yet.” 

Your eyes widened.

“If you can’t, we don’t-“ 

“No, I want to.” 

Regina met your eyes, “are you sure, baby?”

“I’m sure. I want to do everything you had planned.” 

Regina smiled and kissed your lips, then she stood up and put on the new harness and strap on. 

You watched and waited patiently. 

Regina put a condom on the toy and then sat down on the bed behind you. 

“Okay baby boy, I need you to straddle me but face away from me. Understand?” 

You understood and nodded then positioned yourself straddling her thighs. 

Regina then reattached the leash to your collar and held it loosely around her wrist. 

You looked back at her over your shoulder and saw Regina spit onto her hand then bring her wet fingers to your sex and ensured that you were well-lubricated before she wet the toy with a few strokes of her hand as well. 

“Ready, pup?” 

You nodded. 

“Words.”

“Yes, Princess. I’m ready.” 

“Good boy,” Regina grabbed your hips and you reached between your legs to grasp the dildo and you worked together to guide the dick to your entrance. 

You sat down on it slowly, letting yourself adjust to it a bit at a time. 

Regina grabbed your hips hard and helped control how quickly you lowered yourself, until you were fully sat on the toy. 

You let your head fall back and you moaned, then you started to ride Regina’s cock. 

She held onto you and was quick to take over the movement, suddenly thrusting her hips upward to control the strap on and using her hands on your hips to keep you steady. 

“Oh holy fuck!” You gasped, supporting yourself with your hands on her thighs. 

Regina spanked your ass and thrust into you harder, “that’s my good boy, you ride me so good…” 

You felt Regina tighten her grip on the leash and then she yanked on it, pulling your head and making you arch your back while she fucked into you. 

“You look so fucking cute with my cock in you, baby.” 

“Oh god…” you breathed, “oh god, fuck fuck I’m already so close…”

“That’s a good boy, come for me again…” Regina encouraged. She thrust even harder and you reached between your own legs to touch your clit and it only took a second for you to come again. 

You both moaned and Regina slowed her movements. You eventually pulled off of her and moved onto your hands and knees, getting ready to lie down on the bed, but Regina stopped you from laying down and she positioned herself behind you. 

“I’m not done, little one,” Regina asserted.

“Fuck, okay…” 

Regina spit onto her hand again and rewet the strap on and then she was pushing inside you again in doggy. 

“Fuuuuckk… oh my god…” you groaned and dropped down to your elbows. 

Regina started fucking you quick and hard, not bothering with build up. She leaned over you and got close to your ear to tell you, “this time I’m really not going to stop until you beg me to. I’m gonna fuck you until you really can’t take it anymore.” 

“Holy shit…” you nodded your head as best as you could and Regina pounded into you, her thighs smacked against your ass and the silicone cock filled you and filled Regina’s room with the sounds of fast, wet thrusts. 

Your moans were uncontrollable and you were quickly reduced to a blubbering mess. You came once from just the fucking within a couple minutes, then Regina started rubbing your dick while fucking you and you came again, without even coming down from the first. 

You were crying again from how overwhelming it was, but it felt so good. 

“Fuck oh fuck fuck, Regina!” You didn’t even register the slip, nor would you have cared. 

Regina didn’t seem to, either, “that’s good baby, fuck you feel so good…” 

“Oh my god… fuck keep fucking me!” You came again. And again. Tears were streaming down your face. Your entire body was shaking. You didn’t want to stop. 

Regina started fucking you even harder somehow and her movements got more erratic as she approached her own orgasm, “oh fuck, baby boy… I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come!” 

“Come in me, Regina… please…” 

She groaned and thrust all the way into you two or three more times and then she came with a loud moan.

You moaned and cried out, coming with her, you didn’t know what number you were on now. It didn’t matter. 

Regina didn’t stop there, though. Her movements slowed for a second but then she just kept fucking you. 

“Oh god, Gina…” 

“Hmm, baby?”

“I… I… ohh…” 

“Hard to talk, sweetheart?” 

You gave something akin to a nod of your head. The top half of your body was completely collapsed into the bed at this point. You would have to use your words to communicate to Regina to stop. 

“Gina, baby… I’m done…” you whined. 

She kept thrusting, “you’re done?” 

You moaned.

“How about just one more for me, baby… can you give me one more?” 

“Ohhh… fuck…”

Regina increased her pace one last time and touched your clit again. You were so sensitive and overstimulated that it took no time at all and you came once more with as much of a moan as you could muster in your spent state. 

Even then, Regina still didn’t stop. You could hardly believe how she could keep going. 

You were a sobbing, drooling mess at this point. You tried to speak again and failed, “G-… Gina…” 

“Not good enough…” she retorted. 

You groaned then gasped, “Gina… Princess, please stop… please I can’t take anymore… please, honey…” 

Regina slowed and leaned down and kissed your sweat-drenched back. She took her time but eventually pulled out of you completely then quickly removed the harness and wrapped you up in her arms in the bed, cuddling beside you. 

“Holy fuck…” you mumbled, your face buried into the crook of her neck. 

Regina hummed happily. The blonde rubbed your back lovingly and pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“Gina…”

“Hmm?” 

“Can I say it now?” 

“Say what, baby?” 

“That I love you?” 

Regina giggled lightly, “you can say it, sweetheart.” 

You smiled, keeping your eyes closed and your body entwined with Regina’s, “I love you, Regina…” 

She kissed your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek, then whispered quietly, “I love you, too.”

#regina george x reader #regina george #renee rapp regina george #mean girls 2024 #mean girls fanfiction #regina george fanfiction #regina george smut #regina george lesbian #18+ mdni #dom!regina #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #yes princess

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part X

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER X WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mention of dr*g abuse during childhood trauma, mentions of death and injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, major end-of-the-world terror talk. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As we dive deeper into just how in love Steve and Bauman continue to fall...we also dive deeper into darkness.

We get a glimpse into the childhood past of Bauman Squared.

Steve finally gets to laugh again with his kids -- and with the girl he wants to have his own kids with one day.

Dr. Owens comes back, but it's not why they expected. Erica is given the hardest burden of all. Robin & Eddie are the whacky aunt and uncle that everyone needed and basically get shit back on track while being thrown hard news. Argyle is actually just a kind dude. Nancy is pulling away, while Jonathan finally feels the gut-punching gravity of what he is losing. Jopper is still carrying the weight of both worlds.

And surprise, b*tches: DIMITRI IS BACK AND BOY IS HE SOOO BACK.

Lastly: chicken nuggets. That is all.

WHILE THIS IS A FANFICTION STORY: IT IS STILL MY WRITING. PLEASE RIGHTFULLY CREDIT ME WHEN REPOSTING OR SHARING. I DO NOT GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN. - MISHA @sheisjoeschateau PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

OH SO WE DO LOVE STEVE | Chapter X

“Why do I feel like this is some sort of twisted intervention?”

Erica Sinclair stood in the kitchen next to Murray as he cooked up something to share with a table of adults and teens — plus her.

“In a way, it is,” Murray responded to her as he stirred his ingredients. 

“...okayyyy,” Erica sassed, suspiciously.  “...then why do you want me here but not my brother or my other friends?”

Murray rolled his eyes.  Erica’s attitude was truly the one thing that could bring Murray’s entire mental empire crumbling down like a tower of cards being blown over by a gust of wind.  He pointed his spatula in her direction.

“Think of it this way, kiddo,” he said through a wry, condescending smirk.  “It’s like getting invited to sit at the adults’ table instead of the kids’ table for thanksgiving.  And you’re the only one we’re inviting before you get to go up there and hang out with your little friends.  Alright?”

Erica narrowed her eyes.  “What do I need to know that they don’t?”

Sauce dripped from the spatula as he stared at her.  Christ, she was relentless.  Then again…at least she seemed somewhat perturbed by the idea of knowing things before her brother and their friends.  That was pretty damn selfless for Erica Sinclair.  She cocked an eyebrow at Murray — who squinted back at her.

“Okay, why are you not as willing about this as I thought you’d be…”

“Look,” Erica said, crossing her arms.  “If I’m going to be made to keep a secret?  I need to know all the facts first.  Especially if I have to keep it from my brother.  And Steve.  And Bauman.”

Murray sighed through his nose.  She was right.  Mature, and right.

“I don’t want you to keep it a secret for good,” Murray clarified, speaking slowly.  “I just — we just need you to be made aware of some things before we bring it to everyone else’s attention.  And truth be told?  Harrington needs a break.  So does my niece.  And your friends?  They need some time with mom and dad.  You do, too.  But right now?  You’re the party member in charge of taking on some big information before we spread it to the rest of them.  And quite frankly?  I’m counting on you to help me — and the rest of us — help break it to them.  Got it?”

Erica let all of that land, her guarded expression softening into one of civil understanding.  She pursed her lips, considering this.  Finally, she nodded.

“Alright.  Deal.”

Murray shot her a thumbs up, resuming his cooking.

“That’s really lumpy,” Erica pointed to his saucepan with a soured expression.

“Ohforheaven'ssake —”

__________________________

Robin had taken on laundry duty on Steve’s behalf, knowing that Jonathan intended to talk with him.  Which is why she’d asked Nancy to help her with it, and it has turned out to be a good thing.

Nancy was clearly fraying at the seams.  There was a lot going through her mind, and it was all spiraling fast.  She needed someone to talk to, but none of her options seemed safe. 

She had no idea how or when to break everything she had been feeling to Steve. 

Her relationship with Jonathan was so tense and strained, any conversation shared with him had just blown up. 

And her mom would need to know everything about the upside down, in order to give her proper advice…and at this rate, that option seemed to have no place in this world. 

She couldn’t go to Joyce, because that’s Jonathan’s mom. 

Hopper and Murray were out of the question. 

She wasn’t close enough with Eddie to even consider it. 

And Argyle?  Well, he’d said about as much as he could say.  Far more than what she’d expected, if she was being honest.  

Nancy’s only other option was Robin Buckley.

“God, I swear — the air’s a disease at this point.”

Robin had sat next to Nancy on the porch, carrying the laundry basket.  Nancy quickly wiped a few stray tears, which Robin pretended not to notice – even when Nancy shot her a very forced, tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah,” Nancy chuckled wetly.  “It’s uhh, yeah.  Plagued at this point.  Thanks, Vecna.”

Robin nodded with a smirk.  “Yeah.  Thanks a lot, Vecna.  Fuck you, man.”

That made Nancy giggle, which Robin was grateful to see.  She decided to start off slow, not wanting to force anything.  After all, clearly Nancy was clearly going through it.  And the way she and Robin had started off?  Not great.  Buckley was definitely not trying to push her luck.  Sure, the two of them had gotten along super well as time passed, truly becoming friends while living in Steve’s house.  But they weren’t exactly best friends.  Friends for sure.  But not like Nancy and Barb had been.  Not even close.

“You know,” Robin mused.  “Sometimes, I think back to high school and how…I never really had a best friend while I was there.  Not like you did.”

That made Nancy turn to look at her, curiosity radiating for her bright blue eyes.

“You and Barb,” Robin explained.  “You two were thick as thieves.  She always made sure to take extra notes in Click’s class for you.”

Nancy’s eyes shone with melancholy fondness.  “She did…?”

“Yeah,” Robin smiled.  “Always.  Saved them on little flashcards and everything.  She was always like, ‘I gotta make sure I get this for Nance.’  Or whenever something crazy went down in the classroom, I could tell she was just itching to tell you about during lunch or after school.”

Nancy beamed at that.  She shook her head, grinning widely.  “God, I swear… Barb was like — like that little old lady who couldn’t help but wanna gossip.  Even though she hated drama, she loved it at the same time.  As long as it wasn’t hers or ours.”

“That totally tracks,” Robin snorted.  “What an icon, really.”

“Schyeah,” Nancy giggled wholeheartedly.  “Yeah, she…she was the best.”

Robin watched as Nancy gnawed at her lip, feeling the wave of sadness wash over her.  

“I just wish…” Nancy murmured, voice shaky.  “Just wish that I could…talk to her sometimes, you know?  Not just to tell her how sorry I am.  For everything that happened before she…”

Nancy’s voice trailed off.  Robin dared to reach over and touch her shoulder, relieved when Nancy didn’t push her away or tense underneath her touch.

“I just wanna ask her questions,” Nancy’s voice shook.  “So many questions, like…like the way we used to.  As best friends.  About — everything.  Life, family, love…friends…the end of the fucking world…”

Robin nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I know.”

Because Robin did know.  Whenever she had become best friends with Steve, it had made her world significantly brighter.  Her heart was full, and her soul had been lifted out of its constant anxiety-ridden state.  Robin had been so closed off to bonding with anyone, especially the likes of Steve Harrington.  Little did she know, that guy would end up being her truest best friend and confidant.  The one she could lean on, tell anything to and count on for the rest of her life.  However short that might be, given the end of the world… But she had Steve by her side, trusting him with every secret she had and her literal life in his hands.  

Barb had been that for Nancy.  But she was gone.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy’s voice cracked.  She looked over at Robin with tear rimmed eyes, fighting them from falling as she bit down on her trembling lip.  “About…anything.”

Robin kept listening, wanting so badly to go on a rant but willing herself not to.  Because right now, it’s Nancy who needs to rant.  She needed to ramble until she couldn’t anymore.

“I’ve been so…God, I’ve been so in love with Jonathan since we met and…got through all of this together.  It just…just...worked.  Clicked, made sense.  Way more sense than Steve, but — but Steve and I, we…what we had was…it was real.  Really real.  Even Barb saw it, she just — just didn’t want me getting hurt, or…losing myself for a guy.  But I didn’t really.  Steve never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t wanna do, or…wasn’t ready for.  Ever.  Not once.  He was kind to me, and…and I feel like…like I just… I think I’m the one who did wrong by him.  Not the other way around.  All because I just felt so…lost, and conflicted, and scared, and unsure, and…and…”

Nancy curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks as she ducked her face out of sight.  But Robin scooched closer to her, enveloping her into a comforting embrace as she wept.  And Nancy let her, allowing herself to lean against her.

“I told him what we had was bullshit and it wasn’t,” Nancy cried bitterly.  “It wasn’t, he's not -- I was just…so fucking mad that Barb was gone.  And it was easier to blame Steve, all because he wasn’t hurting the way that I was.  The way that I still am.  But that’s — that’s n-not — b-because he d-doesn’t…c-care…”  

Nancy’s shoulders convulsed, and Robin’s heart broke for her as she held her tighter.

“B-but Jonathan had lost Will, so h-he…he got it.  H-he knew wh-what I was…going through… And I-I j-just felt...so r-right with him.  Because l-looking at him didn’t remind me of…of…”

Nancy choked on a sob.  

Robin knew she meant Barb.  She didn’t have to say it.

“I’m angry.  For me, for Barb, for Steve, for Jonathan…my mom, dad, Mike…everyone.  All the time.  And I just d-don’t know what to do, because…Jonathan shut me o-out, and w-wanted to b-break up with m-me all because he felt like…he was…holding me back, and wouldn’t just t-talk…to me…and then S-Steve… Steve, h-he wanted me back b-but now…h-he…he loves…he loves…”

Nancy ugly cried into her palms, muffling the noise so that it wouldn’t be heard from anyone inside.  Robin clung to her, rocking them back and forth with some gentle, soothing shushes.

“He loves her, Robin,” Nancy cried, heartbreak and anguish lacing her voice.  “He loves her, and s-she loves him back.  S-so much…b-better than I d-did…and I…I should be…so h-happy for him.  And h-her, but I just…I just…wonder if I…did I…did I m-mess up…?  Did I lose the p-person I was s-supposed to b-be with?  I just didn’t…think he’d…move on…and that’s so…fucking SELFISH of me…”

Robin squeezed her.  “It’s not selfish.  It’s human.  Steve is amazing.  But Nancy…it’s okay that you didn’t go back to him.”

“But you thought I should,” Nancy leaned back now.  She looked at Robin dead in the eye with bloodshot, red rimmed eyes.  They swam in regrets, sorrows and bitterness.

“You and Eddie both thought that we should,” she said, voice croaked and upset.  “Y-you both…thought that we…shouldn’t have…broken up, or…”

“You’re right,” Robin admitted, feeling bad but deciding it was best to just own up to it.  “You’re right, I did.  We did.  Me and Eddie.  But Nancy…sometimes we’re just so distracted by what seems right…that we can’t see what’s actually right in front of us.”

Nancy looked at her quizzically.  Robin sighed.

“Look, when you left Steve,” Robin explained, taking her hand into both of hers.  “Back in senior year, and you got with Jonathan…you two had your own journey.  You had each other.  Steve?  Steve had no one during his — except for the kids…and Bauman.  Because back then, he didn’t know yet.  He didn’t know about her and Murray intervening —”

“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said bitterly.  “We all know that now.”

“Just hear me out,” Robin pleaded with her softly.  “I promise, I’m with you, alright?”

Nancy stared at her for a moment, finally softening her tense jaw and nodding once.  Robin picked back up, on cue.

“Steve still had a lot of growing up to do.  On his own.  Dustin was the first to reach out to him.  Well, he basically forced himself on Steve.  And Steve needed that.  He’s an only child.  He needed a little brother to give him grief, and boss him around and pick on him.  You have Mike.  Steve didn’t have that until Dustin wormed his way into his life." Robin added with a smile, " ...and his heart.”

Nany thought about that, expression pensive with realization.

“Then Bauman came along,” Robin continued.  “She was Steve’s age… You and Jonathan were off with the adults.  He got left behind to watch the kids with her.  They went through…a lot of shit that night.  You did, too.  But so did they.  They fought off Billy Hargrove.  They protected the kids, fought off the demodogs in the tunnels.  They survived the night together.  You know what that feels like.  You and Jonathan bonded that way.  Right?”

Nancy hesitates but looks back at her, sniffing.  Eventually, she nods again.

“Right," Robin exhales deeply, proceeding. "So Steve… Steve had someone his age to be around, along with the kids.  And that was great.  Because she’s independent and badass, but also really chill and down to earth.  Like, some sort of femme tomboy.  Which Steve lowkey kind of needed, she really was exactly what --"

“Robin, I get it,” Nancy snapped, not wanting to hear about you in a complimentary way.  At least not at this moment.

“No, hear me out,” Robin insisted, giving her hands another squeeze.  “You need to hear this, Nancy, alright?  You know you’re beautiful.  You know Steve has been helplessly in love with you for years.  That’s not even a question.”  

Robin paused, shifting gears again as she refused to let Nancy look away from her.  

“...but Steve had to move on.  Or…find ways to convince himself that he could.  And Bauman?  She was there for that.  She was around, during all his growth.  And trust me – it was ugly.  You have nothing to envy there.  God, the way that they argued?  The way Steve talked to her, honestly?  Honestly.  You would’ve slapped him.  I sure as hell did a few times.  Mostly verbal slapping.  But I hit him a few times, not gonna lie.  You’ve seen the highlights of Steve’s growth.  You have seen the best parts of him, but…but Bauman was there for all of it.  She got to see it all happen in real time, from the second you and Jonathan met back up with them to right now.  And she owned up to her shit, too.  It wasn’t her fault, by no means was it her fault.  But hey, she took the hits.  Many times.  And she still ended up falling in love with Steve, who she swore was the last person who would ever win her over.  Those two knuckleheads were relentless whenever I came into the picture.  Fighting like lovers in a quarrel with absolutely zero history of affection to show for it.  But still, they got through shit together.  They put their differences aside for the kids, and when it came to fighting off the Russians?  She and Steve honestly kept me so sane.  And they kept us safe, too.  Me, Dustin and Erica.  They didn’t get along in the real world, but in the upside down world?  They did.  They didn’t even think twice.  Steve grew into a way better person because of her.  And she opened up a lot more because of him, and the kids.  She didn’t grow up with siblings either.  That’s another thing they have in common.”

Nancy took all of that in with a solemn expression.  Robin let that sink in before continuing.

“I know this is…a lot.  But really, Nancy…so much happened while you were gone.  Those two fell in love over time without even knowing it.  Shit, we didn’t know it either.  That was a plot twist for all of us — including Murray.  Despite what he says, that guy does not know everything.”

Nancy scoffed.  “I know that.”

“Of course you do.  We all do.  He does, too.  Especially now.  Now that his niece and Steve are clearly so head over heels in love with one another.”

Nancy’s heart sank at that.  She knew that it was true.

“I’m not…” Nancy mumbled, eyes downcast.  “I’m not mad at her for falling in love with him.  Or him.  I just…can’t help but wonder if I messed up.  Missed out on someone that I loved more than I allowed myself to when we were together.”

“You couldn’t have loved him more back then, Nancy,” Robin corrected her.  “Because who he was then, is not who he is now.  And who he is now is someone that Bauman has played a huge role in him becoming.”

Nancy sniffed a few times, bringing her knees to her chest and lost in thought.

“Do you still love Jonathan?”

Nancy looked at her, surprised.  “What?”

“Tell me what you’re feeling there,” Robin pressed gently.  “Why is that going wrong again?”

Nancy got defensive.  “Um, what’s wrong is that he clearly planned on leaving me while I was back here being loyal to him.”

“Right,” Robin mused.  “But…what about after he got back?  What happened then?”

Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t.  She thought about that for a while.

“We just…” she started.  “...we just…moved past it.  We let it go.”

Robin nodded slowly.  “After all you two have been through…knowing damn well that things need to be talked about…you both really thought that was best?”

“He doesn’t ever tell me how he actually feels,” Nancy snapped.  “I’m so sick of it.  I always have to push him to tell me things.  He just — shuts me out.  Clams up, retreats.  He won’t even tell me when he’s upset about something unless I make him.”

“Well then,” Robin nods.  “That’s definitely on him.  But what about you?”

Nancy scrunches her face in confusion.  

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt either?” Robin asks, unblinking.

Nancy stares at her, not knowing how to answer that.

“I told him that I love him,” Nancy whispers.  “And that I…that we’re fine.”

Robin’s expression softens.  “Do you wanna be?”

Nancy’s face crumbles.  “I…I want…”

Robin waits, not knowing what to expect but knowing that it’s getting somewhere.  

“I want him to love me again,” Nancy cries in despair.  “I want him to fight for me, and — and love me the way that I thought that he did.  That he would.  That he always would —”

Robin holds Nancy again as she convulses with sobs in her arms.  They stay that way for a little while, allowing the dust to settle.  Nancy has said enough for now.  It would all unravel itself more over time. 

Meanwhile, Eddie had told Jonathan to make his way upstairs and talk with Steve.

“You’re on, buddy boy,” Eddie told him with a hard pat on the back.  

So while Jonathan made peace with Steve, Nancy had finally released some of her emotions and confided in Robin.

And now, all the adults were in the kitchen as Murray made some food for the older teens and Erica.  They’d asked Robin and Eddie to make sure that Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy were all going to be present for it, along with Erica before she could go upstairs and join the kids.

So here they all were now: sitting at the dinner table while Murray and Erica served them up plates and bowls of random foods.  

Jonathan had watched Nancy make her way into the kitchen with Robin, newly fresh faced and eyes puffy from crying.  She wore her pajamas now, having taken a quick shower and washing off the anguish from her meltdown earlier.  Jonathan’s heart cracked in two, and it did even more as Nancy went to sit next to Robin.  He stood up, unable to help himself.

“I got you a seat here,” he said, voice shaky.

Nancy had looked over at him, eyes cold and expression blank.

“That’s alright,” she said, voice level and cool.  “We share a room.”

Nancy sat next to Robin, demeanor cool and calm and collected.  She was stiff, but there was a chilling resilience to her that Jonathan had not seen in a while.  It terrified him, making his anxiety spike.  Had he lost her?  Was he too late?

He swallowed hard, accepting it — given everyone else at the table.  Hopper had awkwardly reached for some pepper as this was happening, working in slow motion as he felt really uncomfortable.  So Jonathan just nodded, and Joyce gave him a sympathetic look as she placed glasses of water and tea in front of everyone.

Eddie made concerned eye contact with Robin as he poured himself some water.  Yikes.

“I’ll sit next to you, my dude,” Argyle said warmly, knowing he needed to step in.  Jonathan was grateful for that, but still dying inside as he kept stealing glances at Nancy — who looked anywhere except his way.

Murray clicked his tongue loudly. “Alrighty then. Shall we?”

With a thud, he set down his plate. Joyce clenched her jaw but took a deep breath.

“Lay it on us,” Eddie said with a deep exhale, sitting down on the other side of Argyle. 

“Yeah, what’s this pow-wow and why is it just this group who's on it?” Erica questioned as she stationed herself on the other side of Robin. 

“Right,” Hopper sighed before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and leaning back to chew, readying himself. Everyone waited patiently.

“Here’s the deal,” he began, leaning forward and eyeing everyone individually as he spoke. “No one here is being made to keep a secret. That’s not what’s going on.”

“So then why is it private?” Robin asked curiously. 

“Because right now…we need to set some things straight. Set in stone.  Before we dive into our group meeting tomorrow. Consider this…a board meeting of sorts.”

Jonathan furrowed his brow. “Don’t we want Bauman and Steve for that?”

Hopper sighed deeply, rubbing at his beard. “This affects them. And the kids.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at that, feeling nervous. He looked over at Robin, who looked just as worried.

Erica scrunched her face up. “Then why am I here?…”

“Because I need one of you kids to be level headed and vouch for me,” Hopper explained. “And for Joyce and Murray. We’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out. Weighed out our options, talked to El about it.”

“Does she know?” Nancy asked.

“Some,” Hopper nodded. “Most… Not all.”

Erica leaned forward, truly listening and accepting that she was clearly going to need to stick with some sort of plan that her friends were not going to be keen on…

Hopper contemplated his next words carefully.

“Look. Tonight, I need those kids to rest. To laugh, play some card games. Eat too much candy, and just have a good night. Soak up all the fun they can get before this mandate goes into effect soon. And before we have to go forward with a plan.”

Hopper made sure that everyone was with him on that.  Off their nods, he continued.

“There’s two groups. One that’ll stay here, in hiding. Down in the basement, where we’ve already started making up basecamp. They’ll have to stay hidden.  Out of sight.  Quiet.  On high alert.  It’s a gamble.  Just because they’ll be home…it doesn’t guarantee them any safety.”

Hopper took a deep breath, eyes filled with dread.  He rubbed at the gap between his pinched brows.

“…the other group will have to risk getting back out there.  And we won’t be anywhere that’s not swarmed and completely surrounded by the government and — god-knows-who-else, before we can get ourselves back near the largest gate that’s torn itself open and is ready to swallow Hawkins.”

Everyone’s blood ran cold. 

No one was safe. They weren’t before, but now? Nothing was off the table. Everything was high risk, no matter where anyone was stationed.

“If you’re sitting here,” Hopper continued slowly, voice grave, “at this table, listening to this conversation…minus Erica and Murray...you’re in Group 2. ”

Nancy and Jonathan both felt their chests constrict, but they understood. It didn’t surprise them per se. And at this point, nothing should scare them. But it did.

Joyce looked at her eldest son, torn but knowing it had to be done.

Erica looked over at Murray, who gave her a soft nod.

Robin and Eddie looked at each other, along with Argyle, shuddering. 

“Dimitri is going with us,” Hopper added.

“Who’s he?” Jonathan asked.

“Russian soldier,” Joyce told him, holding up a hand to clarify. “He’s on our side.”

Jonathan hesitated but eventually gave her a small nod. He looked over at Nancy, who was staring down at the table with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“He’s got insight,” Hopper continued. “Knows what we’re dealing with, and how to handle what we’re all up against.  We’ll need as many of us as we can get out there.  Those of us who know the risks, and know how to navigate this world.”

Robin processed that, thinking. “So that…where does that leave Steve and Bauman?”

Hopper was quiet. The way he gnawed his cheek made it clear that this was where it got messy.

“Steve is on the frontlines with us,” Hopper explained carefully. “…and Bauman is stationed back here with Murray and the kids, along with Dr. Owens.”

Robin’s heart sank, and so did Eddie’s. They both shared a sad, all-knowing look.  They knew this wasn’t going to go well.  At all. They knew that Steve was going to flip his shit at just the idea of leaving you out of his sight.

“Won’t Dr. Owens have a target on his back?” Eddie asked, concerned. “Won’t that — won’t that draw more danger here…?”

That made Robin look at Hopper, wide-eyed. The retired cop looked pale, eyes full of dread.

“He has to be here in case anything happens to Bauman or Max,” he explains solemnly. “Because if shit goes south here…they’ll need to run.”

Jonathan felt sick.  This also meant leaving Will behind.  “But…how? How can they run?”

“That’s where I come in,” Murray chimes in. “Between me and Erica and Dustin, we’ll be able to keep a close eye out for a signal — which Will can help us navigate.”

“Because he’s still connected to it all,” Joyce explains sadly.  “He still…feels it. He senses when it’s near.”

“Which is why he’ll be able to give us a warning,” Murray nods, adding to Joyce’s input. “Since El has to be out there with you guys, we’ll still have a connected source that's here with us.”

“The kids can’t do this,” Hopper adds, tone firm. “Not this time.  El doesn’t count, as much as I want her to stay back.  She can’t.  I know that.” He looks at Erica with parental eyes.  “But as far as the rest of you kids go?  No more.  It’s already bad enough having to risk you all staying here.  But if this is how it’s gotta go down?  You’re staying where there’s a controlled space, with 2-3 solid abort mission plans — which Murray knows from top to bottom.”

Erica hangs her head, but she nods. She knows this makes sense. 

“As for Bauman,” Hopper continues, eyes sad. “She’s not able to get back out there. Between her heart issues and her bad shoulder and ribs…she has to stay put.”

“No, I agree with that,” Robin says, voice full of gravel before she clears it. “But, umm…I’m just…really worried that…well it’s just — Steve, he’s um, he’s —”

“He’s going to have to do this,” Hopper interjects, but not unkindly. In fact, it’s full of empathy and remorse. “He knows the ways. You’ll all need him. His stamina, his strength. He’s strong, good with a bat and can outrun shit.  He also knows what to keep an eye out for, whatever comes our way.”

Eddie gulps, partially because he’s terrified about facing the underworld again…but also because he knows that Steve will be a wreck the entire time he’s gone with them and not with you. And if Eddie’s being honest, the idea of leaving you and the kids behind is killing him too. He’s especially grown to love you and Dustin over the last year.

“This isn’t open for discussion,” Hopper says, voice firmer and tone low.  “Tomorrow, when we have our living room meeting, I’ll be conveying this to everyone…along with Murray and Joyce.  And I need to know I have each and every one of you on our side.  Those kids are going to raise hell.  All of them are.  And this plan is not changing.  It’s either this…or we all stay hunkered down until we rot.  Am I making myself clear?”

Nancy and Jonathan nodded first, quickly followed by Robin and Eddie.

“Yes sir,” Argyle spoke first, and for the first time he genuinely looked aware of just how heavy all of this stuff really is.  Jonathan gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Erica,” Hopper was looking directly at the youngest person sitting across the table.  “I’m counting on you.  I know that’s not fair, but I am.  You’re tough as nails.  You’re gonna have to be that way with your brother, and his friends.  Your friends.  You'll have to be hard...but gentle enough to get it through to him.  I don’t care what you gotta do, you do it.  Whatever you have to say?  Say it.  And if anybody gives you shit for knowing this before they did…send them to me.  Understood?”

Erica looked back at Hopper with the most somber expression.  But she nodded.

“Understood,” she said, voice low.

Hopper gave her a curt nod before looking over at the older teens.

“As for you guys,” he said.  “We all know the shit that just went down yesterday at the fence.  Bauman’s always been at the frontlines with us.  She can’t be now.  And Steve cannot hang back.  He’s got too much strength that we can’t afford to not have on our side of this battle.  And I don’t care if Bauman insists she can do it.  She can’t, and she won’t.”

“And if she gets stubborn,” Murray interjects, voice fierce.  “Tell me.  If she tries pulling a fast one?  You tell me.  Capiche?”

Eddie and Robin quickly nod up and down.

“I’ll talk to him if it gets bad,” Jonathan says in a weak voice.

Nancy narrows her eyes at him.  Since when do he and Steve talk?

“Good,” Joyce says with a sad, tight-lipped grin and nod at her son.  “He’ll need it.”

"I'll be there for him, too," Robin nodded at Jonathan.

“Will we be able to stay in contact with them at least?” Eddie asks pathetically.  “Via the walkies?”

“When necessary...yes,” Hopper confirms.  “We’ll have to be scarce about it.  Selective.  Nowhere is safe.  It’ll have to be reserved for vital communication only.”

Eddie frowned, but nodded in understanding.  Robin was currently biting her palm, consumed with dread and sickening anxiety.  Leaving you behind?  The kids?  Even Murray, who everyone had come to appreciate in their own weird sort of way — mostly because of how much they all loved you.  He was an extension of you.  The whole situation just felt…fucked.

But wasn’t everything fucked?  Wasn’t this entire world so catostrophically fucked in every single which way, seemingly irreparable?  

Was there actually an end to this nightmare?  A world in which the upside down would cease to exist…monsters would go back to their storybooks and dark, twisted fairy tales…the moon would only ever symbolize light within forgotten darkness...and the sun would never hide behind the ashy debris that currently clung to the air, just outside their windows?

Despite how everything looked grim, with seemingly no end in sight…you all persisted in choosing to believe.  Yes.  Yes, this was going to end.

The end of the world was nearing.  It was inevitable.

But it wouldn’t be your world.

***

You never really put much thought into what having a family would feel like one day.

You’d wondered.  Every little girl does.  In young girlhood, there’s the beauty of innocence that protectively surrounds all grown-up dreams that fuel your wildest imagination.  The dreams of never having to go to school, and being in charge of everything you want.  The dreams of being able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want.  The dreams of meeting your future husband, and getting to wear a big white, sparkly ballgown as you walk down the aisle to your happily ever after.  The dreams of being a princess in a big castle, ruling the land and having cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and tea parties everyday with your friends.

Sure, you’d had those dreams as a little girl.  How could you not?  It was inevitable.

But as you grew older, you didn’t really have a chance to fantasize about much.  You’d been made to grow up from a very young age.  Your grandmother had been there for you enough.  She kept a roof over your head.  Food on the table.  A very generous allowance, even though you never asked for one and you’d gotten yourself a job by the age of 13 painting peoples’ houses and doing yard work.  You’d even gotten hired by your uncle to do data entry for him, along with a couple of his contacts who did intense investigative research and needed someone to work remotely.  You earned your own living, and you did upkeep on your grandmother’s house — despite her never asking you to do so.  She was gone a lot.  She wasn’t very old.  Just a smoker who liked casinos and taking trips with her “friend” from time to time.  A woman, who she only ever referred to as her "assistant."  You knew better than to believe that, but you never said anything about it.  She was a closeted lesbian — which is why Robin coming out of the closet for you had been the easiest news to take, let alone support.  Your grandmother was a tough, long-acrylic-nails-donning boss bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted.  You’d gone with her many times to some casino resorts, mostly staying in the hotel room or just walking around the city.  It felt like living with a Mafia Mobwife.  It was cool, for the most part.  But it definitely meant being able to hold your own.  She’d raised herself when she was a kid — and in most ways, you did too.

It’s why you’d spent so much time with your uncle, who didn’t live very far.  He was home a lot.  Given his line of work, he didn’t go out much.  He became even more of a hermit as the years went on, and you liked that.  It meant consistency.  His spare room basically became your room.  It couldn’t exactly be considered a “guest room” when he never had guests over.  You’re the only person he invited over for company, and he loved it.  The two of you got along effortlessly.  His dark humor rubbed off on you early on, which your grandmother shared in but she wasn’t nearly as quick-witted as Murray.  That’s where you got it from.  But your dry, snarky wit was much more selectively timed than his.  He was all over the place.  You had solid social cues, given that you went to school and were around people often.  Your uncle was definitely an oddball.  But you loved him to death, and you got him better than anyone else did.

You weren’t babied.  You weren’t coddled, or sheltered, or given false hope about the world.  It’s why you held your own, and it’s also why you never victimized yourself.  It was to a fault, but you believed it was for the best.

So when Clark broke your heart into a million pieces, you told yourself it had been a risk from the start.  A gamble, just like the poker tables at those casinos that your grandmother frequented all the time.  Love was a dangerous game, and it spared no one.  There were winners and losers — and you’d lost this one.

But right now, in this moment, you felt as though you had just won every single jackpot that there was to win.  

Because right now, you were sitting in Steve’s lap on the floor of Max’s room in his big house, holding cards closely to your chest as Lucas screeched GO FISH at Dustin.  Steve’s hand was in plain sight, and if you were a cheater you’d have him beat in seconds.  But you didn’t need to win a stupid card game…because you had won the greatest game of all: life.

El and Mike were cuddled up close to each other, giggling and being young teens in love.  In a normal world, you would assume it to be puppy love between them.  But this world wasn’t normal, and the shit that they’d been through together wasn’t any different than what you and Steve had been through together.  It was real love, and you let them be that way.

Lucas was seated next to Max in her bed, holding her hand and laughing like a kid again.  Dustin was hoarding all of the candy from his backpack (so much for sharing) and laughing like a buffoon.  He bickered with Steve and the kids as usual, but something about it was just so…bright.  Hearty laughter bounced off the walls, and there were so many times that Steve had belly laughed — along with you and the other kids — that you’d all lost count.

Sometimes, you swore that you saw Max’s lips twitch.  As if she could hear you all in her coma, wanting to laugh along with everybody.  Lucas would talk to her as if she could hear you all just fine, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead while showing her his hand in cards.  Dustin even gave her a sleeve of her favorite candy — just for her.  He might not have basic manners with the rest of you, but Max?  Always.  

Will was keeping score, seated next to you and Steve with the biggest smile you had ever seen him wear.  He laughed hysterically the entire night, even going as far as verbally expressing adoration for you and Steve.  Dustin would pretend to gag, but Will would just tell him he knew better than to think that the curly-haired smart alec wasn’t completely in love with the two of you being together.  Dustin had grinned all dopey and wide, rolling his eyes but not arguing with him any further.  

At some point, Mike suggested all swapping ghost stories.  

Lucas had barked the loudest laugh.  “How about the one we’re currently living??”

“Hey, hey,” Steve interjected.  “I got a better idea.  Tell your most embarrassing story.  One you’re scared shitless to tell.”

You'd grinned in his arms, snickering.  “Oh I got plenty of those.”

“I mean hey,” Dustin shrugged with a mouthful of candy.  “If we’re gonna die, we might as well get real.”

“Okay chill, we’re not going to die,” Steve scoffed, hiding his internal worry.

“It’s possible,” Mike shrugged, grabbing another bag of M&M’s.

Steve huffed.  “Dammit, Wheeler —”

Mike’s devilish grin was infuriating yet endearing at the same time.

“I wish Max could hear all of this,” El said with a tinkering laugh.

You gave her the warmest of smiles and a wink.  “Trust me.  She does.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucas smiled wide, squeezing Max’s hand.  “I’ll even tell one of her stories, for her.”

“...dude, she’s gonna kill you,” Dustin warned him, but there was a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll go first,” Will announced, laying on his stomach as he ate some popcorn.  “One time?  I was asleep in bed but I woke up because I heard Jonathan moaning so loudly — like, disturbingly loud —”

“Okay, maybe I needed to lay down some ground rules here —” Steve starts with a very tight voice as you snorted into your palm.

“Just hear me out,” Will laughs, holding a hand.  “I thought it was with a girl —”

“William,” Steve scolded.

“But he was in the bathroom,” Will talked over him.  “Shitting his brains out.”

Dustin cackled while Mike audibly expressed disgust while laughing at the same time.  El looked shocked, giggling hysterically into her hand.

“Damn, that bad?!” Lucas roared.

“He lit every candle in the house,” Will cackled.  “Mom went to use it shortly after him and came barreling into our rooms to ask us in a panic what had died up one of our butts!”

Steve collapsed into you laughing, and you couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard.  It was that sort of deep laughter that’s so painful because it’s quiet before you’re able to finally erupt with loud laughs that help you come down from a high.  All the kids were a fit of cackles and giggles, too.  Erica made her way into the room finally, jumping right into things and bringing cookies with milk.  All of you exchanged stories, allowing yourselves to only cry tears of joy.  It was exactly what you all needed, long overdue.

And for the first time in ages — none of you thought about the upside down, or the impending doom that awaited you just outside of the Harrington house throughout all of Hawkins.

That night, you and Steve tucked every single of your kids into their assigned sleeping bags and cots.  Lucas stayed with Max in her bed, asking you sheepishly if that was alright.  You’d nodded, along with Steve — more than approving.  And given you both would be chaperoning that night in the same shared room, you also let Mike and El cuddle up together in a sleeping bag.

“Hands outside of the covers, Wheeler,” Steve warned him, but he gave him a wink — adding please at the end.  Even Mike gave him a smile and nod, like a little kid who felt called out but also didn’t have any intention of disobeying.

Dustin and Will joked in high pitched voices about being bunkmates with their sleeping bags next to each other, given they were the two singles of the group.  Technically, Erica was too.  But even if she wasn’t, she would still demand her own space.  She had situated herself on the floor beside Lucas’s side of the bed, not planning to give him a hard time for a good while given what was in store for everyone tomorrow.

As for you and Steve — the two of you had stationed yourselves in the center of the room, closest to the door.  That way, you could see all your kids at any point during the night and also be the first to fight off any harm coming your way, should danger lurk on the other side of the locked bedroom door.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair as he dozed off, earning a sleepy little “hmph” from him.  After he made sure all of them were comfortably settled in for the night, he crawled over to you.  His nail bat was propped somewhere nearby — ready to be swung into action if need be.  But the need for it that night never came.

You curled into Steve’s chest, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and allowing it to fill all of your senses.  Sighing contentedly, you felt a rush of warmth wash over you as his lips pressed into the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you more,” you murmured in the softest of whispers.

You felt him chuckle against you.  “Impossible,” he breathed into your hair, pulling you so close to him you might as well be the same body.

And had you not been so completely relaxed in his arms, you might have fought him on it.  The whole "I love you more" thing. In fact you definitely would have.  But you just hummed, dozing off in his strong arms and allowing sleep to find you.

***

Waking up had been beautiful. The sun was even more hidden than usual, plagued by the new world coming into fruition. But despite the lack of sunshine outdoors, you felt as though it shone through the entire room as all the kids woke up and whispered to each other. You pretended not to hear them when they talked about you and Steve. Because if you were being honest? You’d been dying to hear their uncensored thoughts. If they thought that you weren’t listening, they wouldn’t hold back from saying what was actually on their mind.

Turns out?  All of them wanted this. The two of you together.  They laughed about how some of them thought that Steve was going to end up with Robin at first. 

“No way,” Lucas shook his head in a confident whisper. “Those two? They’re like brother and sister.”

“Yeah, but Bauman’s so out of his league,” Mike whispered back.

“She is not,” Will added in a defensive whisper.

“She so is,” Mike whispered indignantly.

“No way, Steve’s awesome,” Dustin defended in a whisper.

“Yeah but like,” Mike whispered, pondering with a sigh. “I mean yeah. He is. I like him. He’s cool. Way cooler than I thought he was at first. But Bauman’s literally a badass. She doesn't care what people think.”

“Steve doesn’t care anymore,” Erica chimes in, speaking softly. She’s actually pleading Steve’s case and it’s adorable.  “He used to. But when we were down there with the Russians? And he had to wear that stupid sailor outfit for work?…”

“Oh my god,” Dustin snickered. “That shit was so funny.”

“He looked like Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollipop,” Lucas snickered back, and Will had to shush them so that they wouldn’t wake you up.

“My point is,” Erica continued with sass. “Steve doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him now. I mean…he gave her hell the whole time I was around ‘em.”

“I still don’t get that,” Mike whispered.

“Me either,” El added quietly.

“What do you mean?” Dustin whispered in confusion. “I told you guys the whole story. That once upon a time ramble I had to sit through when Murray basically went on to give us an entire rundown on the two of them?”

“Well duh,” Mike whispered in annoyance. “I know that. But dude…she’s…like, she's...”

“Hot.”

Everyone went quiet, and you stiffened as you held back laughter. Because the person who had called you hot?  It was El.

“Bauman is hot,” El repeated.

Eventually someone snorted. Then, they all did. You bit back laughter, blushing into Steve’s chest with your face kept hidden.

“You’re hot,” Mike added to her in a coy whisper.

“No, you are,” she whispered back sweetly.

“Enough,” Erica whispered definitively. 

“Max thinks that Steve is hot,” Lucas scoffed.

“He is,” Erica and El said at the same time.

“Hey,” Mike whined, and they all shushed him.

“Face it, dude,” Dustin whispered flatly. “He is. I wish I looked like him.”

“You look great, man,” Will assured him. “You got a girl like Suzy. You gotta be a stud to catch someone like her.”

Dustin had blushed at that with a wide, dopey grin. “Think so?”

After listening to them chat some more, eventually Steve started to stir. He’d told them good morning, to which Dustin all too happily responded with a very loud good morning back —- making Steve audibly groan and bite back curse words. The kids all snickered. 

Will started handing out drawings out to everyone. You all had been sketching and drawing together in your assigned room earlier the day before, while Steve had been getting Max’s room ready.  Will had told you all to draw a picture of someone else in the party. He’d even chosen who was drawing who.  

Will and Lucas drew each other.

Mike and Erica drew each other.

El and Dustin drew each other.

And you drew Steve, before he joined you all and eventually drew his original art piece of you while you all played a round of the Game of Life.

Here you were now: holding your drawing close to your chest, and wiggling your eyebrows at Steve. He gave you the most adorable smirk, his cocoa brown eyes still a bit sleepy and his perfect hair the sexiest case of bed head. He stretched, toned arms flexing and his white t-shirt clinging to his muscles in all the right places while being loose enough to wanna rip it off of him…

Not the time, Bauman, you mentally scolded yourself.

Steve had reached underneath his pillow to fetch his drawing of you, holding it to his chest and sitting across from you — crossed-legged and shooting you a wink. All the kids mirrored you both, sitting opposite their assigned art piece subject with throaty giggles and snorts. 

Will looked at everyone excitedly, like a proud art professor, ready for his classroom to partake in show-and-tell.

“Alright,” he smiled. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah, you go first, Byers,” Steve nodded at him with an encouraging grin.

Will blushed. “Oh…well…I mean…I should go last. You guys first. On the count of 3, everyone turn your photos around to your partner.”

Mike snorted as he stared down Erica. “Howdy, partner,” he drawled in a fake accent. El giggled, and so did Lucas. 

Erica shot Mike a wry smirk. “Easy now, cowboy.”

“Bet you made me look like a total loser,” Mike snickered. 

“I don’t have to draw you to make you look like that,” Eric’s said in the most sugary sweet, sarcastic voice.

“Okay snarkbutts, settle down,” Steve scolded lightly in a groggy voice, no heat behind it. “Will has the floor. William: proceed.”

Will saluted him. “Alright. Count of 3.”

“Please tell me you gave me teeth,” Dustin mumbled lowly to El.

“One…”

El shrugged. “I dunno.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. 

“Two…”

Steve gave you a coy look, asking in the lowest of mumbles, “How big’s my hair?” 

You grinned like a devil, your voice lower. “Not as big as your other best trait.”

Steve lifted a very cocky eyebrow with a deepening grin.

“Three!”

Everyone turned their papers around, and a soft silence fell over you all minus a few little reactive intakes of breath.

Dustin had drawn El with a million eggo waffles in the sky around her. She looked like the most adorable cartoon character, with anime eyes and full cheeks. Her hair was shorter, the way she’d looked back in ‘83 whenever she’d returned. But it wasn’t slicked back. It was free, curly and a little wild. Her smile was innocent and childlike, and there was a policeman in the back waving. Hopper. 

El had drawn Dustin with his signature cap and his big toothy grin — which made him beam, because she did give him teeth in the drawing after all. And in this drawing, there were bubble boxes above him that read all the quotes she associated with him, like Steve! and She’s our friend and she’s crazy! and Shit shit shit shit shit!

Mike had drawn Erica into a comic strip. He showed her as just a wee tike, then at Scoops Ahoy with an ice cream cone, then playing DND. The last image of the strip showed her with her arms crossed and a triumphant smile, with a banner behind her that read Welcome to the Party.  (…as Erica looked at it, she felt the most unfamiliar warmth seep into her bones and the joyful sting behind her eyes sent her into pure shock.)

Erica had drawn Mike on his bike, riding through the neighbor with his backpack and a flashlight. His dark hair blew in the wind, and there was a thought bubble above him with little heads that resembled all of his best friends.  Above him and the thought was a quote: “Mike Wheeler: nerd, snark machine and superhero to all.”  (…Mike felt so emo, he didn’t know what to do with it.)

You had drawn Steve in a very chic sort of hot anime-like way.  It honestly looked like an actual character that existed in an anime universe.  In the drawing, Steve held his nail bat in one hand and a McDonald’s happy meal in the other.  He didn’t quite understand that part at first — until he spotted behind him, there was a Winnebago.  Six familiar faces, very stick-figure-esque, stood there waving.  You also stood there, with a quote above your head: “six-piece nuggets, coming right up.”  Steve breathed the fondest of chuckles as he took it all in, wanting to laugh and smile and cry and tackle you with his kids all at the same time.

Steve’s drawing of you was more adorable than you ever thought him capable of drawing.  You were the cutest little cartoon, backpack over your shoulder with combat boots — but you were wearing the most beautiful dress.  It was yellow, which complimented the happy blue sky behind you.  Yours and Steve's favorite colors combined.  There was a big house behind you, with seven other stick figures that looked an awful lot like Steve and your six nuggets.  And right next to you, there was a dictionary-esque definition of you:

BAUMAN (Pronounced bow•men)

A professional love-life ruiner; cute but psycho; hardcore but soft; too smart for her own good; humor darker than the dark espresso she drinks straight, because she’s a sociopath; also hotter than said cup of coffee; terrifyingly beautiful from the inside out; my mortal enemy turned favorite person; the girl who makes everything make sense; someone I can’t fathom living without, and can’t believe I ever thought I could; the love of my life, in this one and the next and so on, so long as she’ll have me.

You had never felt so full in your entire life, and neither had Steve. The two of you just stared at each other’s drawings. Grinning, glassy-eyed, chuckling, aching, filled with every ounce of joy and every ounce dread — all at once.  Neither of you could speak, but neither of you had to. Your eyes, along with his, spoke volumes. They said everything there was to say, just as much as your sketches did.

Lucas had drawn Will in a wizard’s outfit.  He held a tall, majestic scepter — with a large hat on top of his head.  Surrounding him was a large swirl of colors, whimsical and light, painting a galaxy of sorts.  And in this galaxy, there were little floating stick figures with all his friends’ names above them.  Will was smiling in the drawing, with his hands in the air and on top of the world.  Literally, because in the picture he was standing on top of a globe.

As for Will...he had drawn Lucas at a basketball game. He was scoring the winning basket, and an entire crowd cheered behind him.  All of you were there.  Will was there, next to all his friends.  You and Steve were next to each other, along with his mom, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Eddie, Robin and Hopper.  Even your Uncle Murray.  

And Max…that’s where Will’s drawing got unique. 

She was piggybacking Lucas, as he jumped and shot the winning score of the game, her laugh radiating through all the pens and crayons and markers that Will had used to sketch her.  She was alive, as were the rest of you.  Very much alive.

Just as you all were right now, inside one of Steve Harrington’s many bedrooms in his big house with no parents.  

No matter what doom was swiftly approaching — no matter what monsters were looming underneath the surface, and already roaming the real world — you all were together.  You had each other.

You always will.

***

Late morning upstairs has been kind to you.  It's been light.  Hopeful. 

There’s something about walking downstairs that makes the energy shift.  It sends an odd sort of chill up your spine, despite Steve’s arm draped securely over your shoulders as you wear one of his large gray hoodies with your bad arm in a sling.  You feel a certain pang in your chest as the kids follow you all down into the kitchen…but this time, it’s not because of your heart arrhythmia.

As Hopper and Joyce smile at you all in the kitchen, greeting you warmly and having prepared a table full of pancakes that had smiley faces decorated with whipped cream and chocolate chips and strawberries on top — something about the scene frowns at you.  A deep frown that you’ve seen on everyone’s faces whenever there is bad news waiting to be shared.

Your uncle is coming over to hand you a hot cup of decaf coffee, winking at you and Steve as he gives him a tight shoulder squeeze.  He’s moving past you both towards the man named Dimitri, who is walking in from the living room.  Murray brings him over to introduce you.

“Dimitri, this is my niece,” Murray grins.

You shake his hand firmly with your good arm, smiling gratefully.  “Heard a lot about you.”

“You as well,” the man says with a genuine smile, kind vibrant eyes and a thick Russian accent.  He’s definitely seen some shit.

“And this is Steve,” Murray gestures, a bit of a coy glint in his eye.  “Her boyfriend.”

Steve blushes, a soft smile gracing his features and shining through his eyes.  He wholeheartedly adores being called that out loud for the very first time: your boyfriend.

Your uneven heart skips several more beats, which typically would raise a lot of concern — but at the moment, you’re too fucking happy to care or pay it any mind.  You watch Steve flash his signature charming smile and reach out to firmly shake hands with Dimitri, who is looking back at your handsome boy with the widest grin.  The masculine exchange of lighthearted friendly words between the two men makes your stomach dance for some reason, especially as your uncle chuckles along with them.  

This is completely uncharted territory for you. Nothing about this moment is familiar.  But you could really get used to it.  It’s new.  And you adore it.

Dimitri meets the kids, who all take to him very well.  Especially El, who seems to already be familiar with him.  Likely because of Hopper.  Jonathan and Argyle are being introduced to him by Joyce, while Eddie is rounding the corner with a big stretch and yawn.  Steve shoots him a smirk as the metalhead makes his way over for a big ole bro hug, whispering something to him that makes Steve snort while Eddie grins like a devil.  Steve swats at him playfully, successfully smacking him as Robin walks in with Nancy close behind.  Steve’s quirky platonic soulmate makes her way over to you with a warm smile, swinging an arm over your shoulders so that she’s nearly headlocking you in a hug.  She’s a bit taller than you, by just a couple inches, so it gives her some upper hand.  You’re chuckling lightly, nose scrunched and tightly winding your good arm around Robin’s waist as you smile back at Nancy.  Her eyes are still sad, a bit lost.  But there’s no animosity there, at least not that you see.  She looks at you shyly, timidly…but with utter kindness.

Unbeknownst to you — Robin had suggested to Nancy that she stay with her last night in Steve’s room.  For Nancy, that had been…hard.  Necessary, but hard.  For multiple reasons.  For one thing — the last time she’d slept in Steve’s room, she had been his girlfriend. Being asleep in there 2 years later without him, now as his ex, brought back a flood of memories — bittersweet and haunting.  Being in his bed, twisted up in his sheets, felt wrong.  But she just couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jonathan that night.  Not yet.  Not after everything that had unfolded.  So Robin had stayed up talking with her, having a heavy heart to heart.  But it turned out to be exactly what Nancy needed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  Robin Buckley had unintentionally become a nurse of sorts over the last several months, and maybe even somewhat of a therapist.  Although — Argyle sort of had her beat in that department earlier that afternoon.  But he was the much simpler kind.  Whereas Robin got deep, given her innate gift at rambling until you were given no choice but to cut her off because your most honest thoughts were yanked out of you as you were made to listen to her ranting.  Nancy had cried some more, but she’d also laughed.  A comforting mixture of both smiles and frowns were shared between the two unlikely friends.  Robin wasn’t Barb, nor would any other girl be that kind of friend to Nancy.  Robin was very different from Barb.  However, her heart was just as loving.  She loved hard, and it showed.  She let Nancy pour her heart out, pouring some of her own out in return.  And somehow…somehow…it brought Nancy some newfound peace and understanding.

So as she looked at you now, having seen you come downstairs with Steve and the kids — now introducing yourselves to the new Russian house guest, and sharing a special connection with Eddie and Robin in a way that only settled couples so effortlessly did — Nancy could see something in the two of you that she’d not known Steve capable of being while she in a relationship with him.  And while she selfishly ached for her younger self who’d missed out on having that with him (and sometimes still found herself pining after), she selflessly began to feel happy for Steve.  And she even began to feel some happiness for you.  Not completely.  Not yet.  She couldn’t quite commit to making full peace with it all, given that healing takes time.  A very long time.  But as time continued to pass, which Nancy hoped you all would still be granted given the circumstances of the crumbling world, she knew that she would eventually get there.  

Murray and Dimitri were saying something funny, making Hopper and Joyce share a hearty laugh with the two of them while the kids were asking the new gentleman a million questions.  Steve made his way over to you and Robin, hugging you both — and Eddie threw his arms around all of you, resulting in fond groans and grunts from you all along with big smiles.

Nancy and Jonathan made unintentional eye contact as this happened, but Dustin shouting GROUP HUG! snapped their focus away again. The boys all bear hugged you guys while El and Erica were already pouring syrup onto their pancakes.

Eventually, you all sat down to enjoy a feast.  And while it tasted so deliciously sweet…the bitter aftertaste stemmed from looming doom that creeped just beneath the surface of your feet.  The energy shift was still felt, and despite the warmth of homemade pancakes and Steve’s hand on your thigh…your blood ran cold.

***

It was the early afternoon that finally unveiled the darker energy shift you had all been sensing since that morning, after you left the comforting quarters of your little family sleepover.

Everyone was now seated in the living room now — the way you always were, when it was time for you all to have a group meeting and listen to Hopper go over a plan of sorts or give a rundown to the household.  Except this time, Dimitri was here along with Dr. Owens.  It wasn’t like all the other times.  This was different.  Very different.

This one scared you.

Maybe they all should’ve. All these talks that centered around the end of the world. All these household meetings about the impending doom that came with said end-of-the-world. But somehow, you’d grown accustomed to them.  Comfortable.  It meant you were all still alive and that you all had something worth fighting for. And it had always meant there would be another meeting.

But there was an unsettling sort of feeling of finality to this meeting that set it apart from all the others.  And as Hopper stood with both Joyce and your uncle Murray…you felt goosebumps scatter up and down your arms and legs, regardless of Steve’s warm oversized hoodie and your leggings and socks.  Their faces were somber, a bit grim.  Murray kept his arms tightly crossed while Joyce fiddled nervously with her hands.  Even Hopper, ever the strong and firm type, looked nervous.  Maybe even afraid. 

They spoke all slowly, taking their time with why everyone was there — why Dimitri was now in the picture along with Dr. Owens — and what all needed to be discussed.  And the longer they spoke, the thicker the air got.  Tension spread around the room.  It was especially evident as none of the kids were making a sound.  They hadn’t uttered a single word.  Not one of them.  The adults had the floor, and when they asked Dimitri to stand with them, you all knew this was going to go in a bad direction.

So when they all told you the plan, looping Dr. Owens into the picture and why he not only was here for this talk — but here to stay — the gravity of the current situation landed.

You all felt your souls plummet to the deepest depths of your stomachs with a hard thud, as Hopper revealed two large whiteboards.  They both had entirely different detailed layouts…and beside each one, there were two separate lists of names.

One list of names would be at the frontlines.  The people who would be diving head first into the upside down and all of its perils. 

One list of names would be hiding out here.  The people who would maintain home base, helping operate things from the other side in the real world, while risking the chance of being found, caught and killed.

Both sides were at risk.  Both teams could die.  Both groups might not ever live to see another day, or each other, ever again.

As Steve stares at your name, along with the names of all of his kids aside from El, on the opposite whiteboard from his own name…he feels bile rising in his throat.  His stomach twists into knots, deeply tangled with unbearable anxiety and anguish.  His mind races, but his lips don’t move.  Fear paralyzes him, rendering him speechless as the adults keep talking and gesturing to the boards.  The castle on a cloud that his dreams have just began to build for the two of you, walls high and protecting you both along with his kids — his family — was drifting away from him.  And all he could do was watch it drifting further and further away, into the void, as he stared into space.

You felt his grasp on you instinctively tighten as his muscles stiffened.  Steve was rigid against your back, and you were grateful that he couldn’t see your face right now.  You were sitting between his legs on the longest part of his couch, facing the same direction as you took in the whiteboards while absorbing all the information that was being relayed to the group.  With a harsh swallow, you risked peeking at everyone else’s reactions — quickly scanning the room with your eyes.

Mike’s usually sour expression looked far more sad than it usually did.  He only ever looked like that when El was in danger, or things were spiraling out of control.  He sat on top of the coffee table with his elbows in his lap, crouched forward and staring a hole into one of the whiteboards.  Dustin’s mouth was agape, and his unusual silence was loud.  He hadn’t said a word from where he sat on the couch next to Erica.  Will sat on the other side of Jonathan, brow furrowed and heart blue.  He knew the risks being taken, and it hurt his soul seeing that he would be apart from his mom and brother.  He felt as though he always had been, ever since this all began, and it seemed to be a never ending circumstance.  Lucas was taking it all in from his seat on the leg of the couch, hands wrung and expression reserved — but defeated.  He’d really grown into a young man this past year, and he’d been taking so much in stride.  But even so, he looked conflicted.  Really conflicted.  

After taking in the kids’ reactions, your eyes swept over to Robin and Eddie.  She was seated in the giant loveseat, per usual, with Eddie perched on the arm of it.  You narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Robin fiddling her thumbs, eyes darting up and down from her fingers to the adults with the whiteboards.  Eddie was bouncing his knee anxiously, nibbling at his fingernails — which were already bitten to stubs.  While the two of them looked to be taking this hard, the way that the rest of you were…they also seemed to be absorbing it a bit differently.  As if maybe they had a hunch about it already…

It wasn’t until Erica stood up to sit by Lucas with zero prompt that you felt slightly suspicious.  Because as she did, Robin shot a very quick tight-lipped smile in Erica’s direction with eyes that radiated sympathy.  Did they know this was coming?  Is that why Erica had come upstairs with the cookies and milk later than the rest of the kids?

You sighed through your nose, focusing back on Hopper as he gestured for Dr. Owens to stand up with them.  The older man made his way to the center of the tense room, hands dug deeply into his pockets and wearing a very sympathetic smile.

“I’m really grateful you all have put a lot of faith in me, despite everything,” he said humbly.  “Truthfully, it’s not owed.  I know that.  Still…I promise you’re in good hands with me.  Not those guys out there.  Hence why I’m here.  And I know you’d have already figured out by now if I was still working for that side of things.  Between El and Will, and all of you crazy smart folks, I’m outnumbered.”

He added a light chuckle at the end that nobody returned.  Dr. Owens sighed, taking no offense.  He knew this was not going to be taken well.

“I’m in this fight with you,” he said, stronger than how he spoke before.  There was conviction in his tone that he never really used, and it only heightened just how severe things currently were.  “If it were up to me?  None of you would be out there.  I’d be out there on the frontlines.  But…given Max’s comatose state, and Bauman’s heart condition, I know I’m needed here.  Which is just as big a risk that’s being taken out on the battlefield, because we’re staying in Hawkins as the evacuation notice and mandate goes into effect.  The city will be swarmed with government officials who are all behind this.  We’ll be surrounded from all angles.  No one is safe.”

You’re pretty sure that Steve had stopped breathing at this point, and the veins that prominently stuck out from his arms tightly wound around you made your throat close up.  

“I’ll be here to monitor Max, along with Bauman.  I’ve got plenty of medication to help steady the heart arrhythmia, and anything vital needed for a medical emergency — on anyone’s behalf, not just Bauman’s and Mayfield’s.”

“But…what happens if…”

A tight voice made everyone’s heads whip in its direction.  It was Dustin speaking, eyes wide with fear.  He wasn't being his usual cocky, overly confident self.  He looked and sounded genuinely fearful.

“…what happens if we’re caught?  What do we do?  Where do we go?”

Murray sighs, stepping forward.  “We’ve thought about that.  Right now, there’s only 2 options.  But they’re solid.  The best we’ve got right now.  One more than the other.  See, look —”

Murray went into detail about an abort-mission plan, but it sounded distorted in your ears as the gravity of the situation weighed down on top of your shoulders: you were all splitting up.  And this time might be the last time.

At some point, Mike had started to finally come to life.  His snark was returning, but even he wavered and the fear in his voice wasn’t concealed.  Hopper and El had to level with him, which only flustered Mike and caused him to stutter.  They had him beat, and he knew it.  He wanted to storm off, but Erica had told him to sit his ass down and listen.  It was so unexpected that he did as she said.  But your own brain was playing it all in slow motion.  As Will began asking questions with Dustin, you could see how Lucas had looked like he wanted to ask Erica if she might have already known something — but he didn’t.  Dr. Owens was saying something about Will being tied to the other side of things and being the assigned “El” of their group opposite of her, which fired up Mike as he demanded to know why the hell that required him to be out of the group heading to the frontlines alongside his girlfriend.  Before Hopper could even respond, Eddie was jumping into action along with Jonathan — coming to the retired cop’s defense.  That only bewildered Mike more, which fueled Dustin’s confusion into high gear as he made arguments alongside Mike.  Lucas had thrown his voice into the mix, but when Erica’s was louder — telling them all to listen, for the love of god listen, and Lucas stared at her in silent bemusement.  Will was weakly pleading with them all to please calm down, along with Joyce, who shot Argyle (of all people) a desperate look, and he made his way over to sit down next to Will and tell him it was going to be alright.

“NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS ALRIGHT,” Mike cried, angry and sad and scared in the way a child made to grow up too soon has every right to be.

“Mike, please,” Nancy’s voice trembled, her blue eyes glassy.

“Nancy, this isn’t okay!!!” Mike wailed.

“M-Mike,” Nancy stammered, her own emotions giving her a shake she couldn’t stop.  “Just l-listen to me…”

“No, you never listen to me!!!” Mike bawled.  “Never!!!”

“Hey hey, Wheeler, hey.”  

Steve finally found his voice as he reluctantly made his way to stand up away from you and approach his kid that was having an absolute breakdown.  Mike was still wailing, but as Steve approached with an unwavering look in his eye — baby Wheeler allowed for the group's assigned babysitter to actually place his hands on his shoulders and try to level with him.  Mike’s face crumbled, his words not making any sense the more he stumbled over them.  All that could be made out was something he was trying to say towards El — something about why and how could you and tell them I’m coming — which made Steve get a firm grip on his shoulders as he told him not to blame her for this.  After all, Steve had all the experience in the world as far as wrongfully placing blame on someone else was concerned…and it made your entire body ache as you watched him soothe Mike, who just bawled and mumbled nonsense in his hold.

El began to cry, too, leaning into Hopper — whose bottom lip trembled.  He bit down on it hard and willed it to stop, his eyes overwhelmed with everything that was unraveling before his eyes. 

Dustin was going back and forth with Erica, but he sounded so pitiful it made your uneven heart crack.  He kept looking over at Steve, begging him to understand.  Please Steve, please, let me go with you.  Eddie moved to immediately hold him, crushing him in more of a death grip than a hug.  The metalhead mumbled into his curly hair — not this time, kiddo, not this time.  Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, emotions taking over as she barely managed to bite them back.

You stood up instantly, moving to hold Buckley.  She didn’t hesitate to make room for you on the seat, letting you take her in your arms as she shook like a leaf.  You gently swayed her side to side with you, murmuring quiet little words that were meant to be comforting — knowing they weren’t, but offering them anyway.

Your eyes met Jonathan’s across the room as he swayed with Will as well.  His pupils were blown, consumed with dread and drowning in pure misery, and you knew that yours weren’t much different.

Mike had buried his face into Steve’s chest at this point, and it made Nancy cry into her own palms as she curled in on herself.  

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice cracking at the end.  She looked at Hopper and your uncle, eyes guilty and full of shame.  “I - I’m sorry.”

Before you could even process what just happened, Nancy was barreling up the stairs.  Jonathan watched her go, panicking.  He looked at Will, then at you — eyes pleading.  You didn’t even let a second pass before you’d squeezed Robin to signal her, standing up to bring her over to where Will was seated.  You took Jonathan’s place as he went after Nancy, holding him tight as Robin leaned against you on your opposite side.  Argyle kept a kind hand on Will’s shoulder, still sitting to the other of him.  

“Steve, please, you die I die, remember?”

Dustin’s whimpered words had to have been the saddest plea you’d ever heard in your life.  Steve almost broke but before he could he flung an arm to sweep Dustin into his hold, as baby Wheeler kept bawling into his chest.  He held them both steady, letting them fall apart in his protective arms and doing everything in his power not to break down with them.  He couldn’t.  If he did, he’d failed them.  But to Steve’s dismay…he did anyway.  He ducked his head down, shaking against the two of his kids, letting himself silently weep with them.  For them. 

Lucas looked utterly heartbroken, which Erica noticed.  The youngest Sinclair cast aside all her pride, looking at her older brother with the most sympathy and love she could have towards anyone in this world, and she threw her arms around him.  He only let it shock him for a second before he held her back, a grateful silence falling over them both.  

You felt tears of your own begin to brim your eyes, but before letting them fall you looked up towards the adults…seeing your uncle first.  Murray looked back at you with every ounce of empathy and solace that could be found inside his dark soul. 

You gave him a soft nod, silently communicating with him.  I understand.  I’m sorry you had to deliver this news, but I’m here and I understand. 

And he returned the soft nod, lips pressed into a thin line but communicating back through eye contact and body language.  I love you and I hate this.  But I’ve got you.

Dimitri stood next to him, eyes somber and downcast.  He was new to the picture, but having seen the other side of things and just how bad a toll this has clearly taken on you all — he mourned for everyone’s pain. 

Dr. Owens had to sit down, unable to speak and wringing his hands.  

Hopper and Joyce held each other, along with El.  They looked at each other, devastated but steadfast.  

This plan was not open for discussion.  

This plan was not open for debate.  

This plan was final.

And so you let the tears crawl over the edges of your eyes, feeling them skate down your cheeks as you clung to Will and Robin and felt the world sit on top of your shoulders.

***

-- so as you can see, shit's getting intense. the gut-wrenching angst approaching has me overwhelmed but I'm so sickeningly happy about it. suffice it to say, Steve & Bauman are my Roman Empire and they are endgame. so if that gives you any sort of hope, given the inevitable doom that is in store for them and everyone else involved...then yay.

<3 this story forever lives on. forever and ever amen. - misha

TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)

@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose nevillescomslut

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #mishas masterlists #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut #joe keery #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman #murray bauman #jopper #jim hopper #jonathan byers #stancy #sorry stancy

[astarionancuntnin]

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 3 - Ending)

summary: back at your camp, your companions celebrate your findings of the day, concluding this quest. you realize your feelings for the vampire might be more serious than you previously thought, and with the courage the wine gives you, you take a step to do something about it

rating: E

word count: 2.6k

pairing: astarion x you (afab!reader (she/her pronouns used), sorceress tav)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, denial of feelings gets resolved, porn with feelings, alcohol induced sex, overstimulation, mating press, act 1 astarion might take advantage of tav's vulnerability but we're assuming that he's also already falling for her, possessive sex, creampie, reader admits her feelings, soft ending

a/n: FINAL CHAPTER i never expected to get there when writing the first chapter but i got really invested in the relationship of astarion and how i wrote reader!tav in this one. thanks for all your comments and feedback, and most of all thank you for reading along! <3

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You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

-

With the lack of visibility from within the dungeon, you never realized how much time you had actually spent down there. It’s only once outside that you realize how long it’s been, with the sun currently setting. Once you finally reach your camp, dusk has fallen and you spot the campfire already lit, with some of your companions surrounding it. Shadowheart spots you as you emerge from the forest path with Astarion, visibly tired, and bolts towards you, taking you in a strong embrace.

“Oh, thank the Gods you’re alright,” she pulls back, grabbing you strongly by your arms and stares right into your eyes, her worry turning into annoyance. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you?! We were expecting you to be back hours ago!”

You smile softly, “I’m okay, really, we just… got into a predicament of sorts. Nothing to worry about, I assure you.” Before letting your friend’s mind wander too far, you pull out the artifact from your bag. “But,” you raise your voice to get the attention of the rest of your companions watching from afar, as you hold the artifact high and wave it to them. “We found the missing piece!”

“Fuck yeah, soldier!” Karlach shouts from her bedroll. “We gotta celebrate!”

Everyone else eagerly agrees and in a matter of minutes, you’re all drinking, laughing, shouting, and dancing around the camp. Except Karlach, of course, her leg still healing from that awful trap she walked in, but she is just as joyful as the rest of you and drinks along, laying on her bedroll in the middle of the camp. She wouldn’t allow a mere injury to keep her from enjoying her friends’ company. 

As the night settles down and some of your companions head to bed, you’re joined by the cleric, sitting down around the fire.

“So, you and Astarion, huh?”

“Ugh, pleaaaase, it only happened once,” you let your head fall between your hands.

“Really? Because judging by the state you arrived in and the new bite on your neck, I would think that–”

“OKAY fine,” you interrupt her. “...twice.” She gives you a playful look. “But it just, sorta happened you know? I swear I didn’t plan this!”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.” She laughs. “I’m just surprised I guess, I didn’t take him for your type.”

“He’s really not!”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she grins at you.

“I… I don’t even know myself,” your voice softens.

Your vision falls on Astarion who is standing by himself, far from the party, indulging in a bottle of wine by the side of the lake. You keep observing him as Shadowheart continues to talk.

“Don’t you think you deserve to know?” You sigh. “I was sure I hated him. I probably did at some point. He’s so snobby and pretentious and arrogant and– Gods, he’s everything I despise in a person!” “Would it make you feel better if I told you I thought the same thing about you when we first met?”

“Well, first of all, rude,” she laughs before you continue. “Second of all… not really, but it wouldn’t surprise me. That’s how people have always seen me. For years, I lived with the fact that I was unlikeable and unapproachable. I never managed to connect with people. I was convinced there was something wrong with me ever since I can remember. I was never able to fit in. But when I’m with him I’m… happy, somehow. Happier than I’ve been for years. For so long, I thought I would never feel any type of attachment to anyone, that I was practically doomed to live alone for the rest of my days. When I’m with him, I forget about all of this. I don’t know how to deal with that.”

You pause and she notices who you’ve been staring at all along. “Have you told him that?”You quickly snap back to her. “Are you insane?! Of course not!” You cross your arms over your chest, frowning.

“Maybe it would be worth giving it a try?” Her tone is soft and caring. For someone who hadn’t known you for that long, she seemed to understand you intimately.

Her question makes you wonder. A part of you wants to see where this would go, it’s true; you were curious about the possible outcome of this relationship. You had made peace with the fact that you would live on your own forever. You were always seen by others as a cold, ruthless sorceress. It wasn’t your fault your powers were stronger than the rest of your kind, but nonetheless, it put you aside from the rest. Traveling with this group of weirdos is the most proximity you’ve had with people for years. A lot of these experiences with people are very new to you. You take one more sip of wine, your last resort to deal with those feelings.

Shadowheart takes your silence as an answer. “You know, you deserve happiness just as much as the rest of us,” she gets up and pats your shoulder. “You should at least consider it,” she says, before leaving for her tent.

You stay there for a few moments, pondering about what she just told you. You take a deep breath and get up to walk towards the lonely pale elf with your wine-induced courage. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Hey,” you approach him awkwardly.

“Well hello there,” he turns to you, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“Just wanted to see how you were faring, after today. Everyone’s enjoying the night, some people are even heading to bed, but I didn’t see you mingling with the others.”

“Oh darling, I’m doing just great on my own,” he gestures with the bottle of wine in hand. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” 

“Of course you do.” you roll your eyes. “Well, good. I’m glad.”

There’s a silence shared between the two of you then. You get this strong feeling in your chest that you need to express and yet, you just can’t bring yourself to say it. Everytime you part your lips to say it, the words get stuck in your throat. Maybe you’re not drunk enough to go on about your unspoken feelings. Maybe some things are simply better left unsaid, after all. You sigh and shake your head, abandoning your initial intentions.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bother you any more than I already have,” you give him a soft smile. “Have a good night, Astarion,” as you turn to walk away, your smile disappears, leaving only disappointment. It quickly turns into surprise when you feel Astarion swiftly grabbing you by your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he says. Your eyes meet and you notice a change in his expression, his eyes soften. “I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me, is there?”

“It’s nothing!” You force a smile. “We had a big day, I’m just tired and you must be too, I suppose, I wouldn’t want to keep you from resting,” your eyes fall to the ground, avoiding his glare.

He takes a step towards you, closing the short distance.

“You don’t need to go,” his voice is deeper.

“Listen, you really don’t have to do this, we slept together and it was great and it can just stay like that, there’s no need–”

He lifts your chin up to face him and you stop rambling instantly. You feel your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes locking with his.

“Tell me, what would you do if I kissed you, right now?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

Your eyes flutter open, your breath catching in your throat, “I would kiss you back.”

His eyes fall on your lips and you close your eyes as he lifts your chin higher and your lips collide. He kisses you with a tenderness you never would have imagined, with one hand holding your waist closer and the other moving from your chin to your cheek. You feel as if your heart is going to explode ; you kissed him before, but it was nothing like that. At this moment, time stopped, just for the two of you.

He parts from you carefully, remaining close. Your eyes open up to find him looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust. Given how you felt your breathing quickening and your face burning, you must’ve been looking at him with the same intensity. Finally, you speak up.

“Do you… wanna share my tent tonight?”

He smiles with half-lidded eyes. “I thought you would never ask.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins giving you the courage, but you find yourself kissing him back eagerly, getting lost in his embrace, and it takes everything in you to actually make it back to your tent with Astarion. The second you’re inside, you’re both removing each other’s clothing, recklessly throwing them away. You drunkenly stumble on your back and try to suppress your laughter before Astarion is over you, kissing you again. First your lips, then your neck, and your chest, down to your navel, and the mount between your legs.

Each kiss from him has you moaning so easily, as if he played you like an instrument. You don’t make the effort of even trying to suppress the sounds you make, you’ll just blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning. His touch felt so good against your skin, like a healing balm over each wound from your past. His next kiss over your folds has you arching your back, and he grabs a hold of your legs in response, grounding you down. His breath over your pussy sends a river of chills up your spine and you tightly grab onto your bedroll’s blankets for support.

His tongue slipping between your wet folds makes you cry out instantly, as your core is extremely sensitive to any touch in your condition. You try to buck your hips against his tongue and his hold on you only gets stronger.

“Mhh, don’t you wanna be good for me?” He asks, between your legs.

“Y– yes,” you pant.

“Then stay still for me, love.”

His sweet words combined by his masterful tongue plunging into you make you whimper. He devours you as if you were his first meal in days, lapping at your entrance, drinking you in, tasting everything you have to offer. His nose, carefully placed over your clit, teases your sweet spot and you feel yourself nearing your climax. Sensing your desperation, Astarion loosens his grip on your hips, allowing you more movement. Your hands get lost in his curls, lightly pulling them to guide his face over your sensitive area. The build up in your stomach finally releases and you scream as the wave hits you like electricity throughout your body. Your hands fly to your sides, grabbing onto your bedroll for dear life, with the vampire between your legs ravishing you still. 

You cry out, pleading with him as the feeling becomes overwhelming and he leaves your sex to move back up, lifting your legs up in the process. Your lips meet with his, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You get lost in the feeling, messily kissing him back, only parting slightly to allow yourself to breathe. His hands sneak down to grab your wrists and pin them next to your head before burying himself right into your cunt. 

His thrusts are slow and deep, hitting the back of your hole every time. By now, you’re a panting mess, you’re seeing stars, and the only words leaving your mouth are his name, over and over again, each time more jumbled than the last. 

“I do love the way you say my name,” he murmurs.

“A– Astarion…”

“Just like that,” he purrs. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“Astarion…”

“My good girl.”

He pauses between his thrusts, getting stronger and stronger, and making you moan louder and louder. With his last stroke, he dives teeth first into your neck, drinking you in. He drinks from you like a starved man, his pace becoming ruthless. You feel him growl against your neck, his teeth sending a vibration through your skin, before removing his fangs from you. He picks up a punishing pace, drilling into you.

“You’re mine.”“I’m… yours…” you barely manage to get the words out.

“Go on, be a good girl for me, tell everyone who you belong to.”

His words of praise send you over the edge again, you feel as if your soul was leaving your body, with your back arching into him, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and the air leaving your lungs as you scream out his name. Your cunt squeezes his cock and with a last hit, he releases himself inside of you, growling into your ear as he does so. His thrusts become erratic, filling you with his seed. You’re completely overwhelmed and your body trembles with the sensation. Astarion stays still inside of you, your warmth around his length providing him some sense of security as he comes down from his own high. He lifts his head up carefully, and his hands leave your wrist to hold your face instead, your foreheads barely touching.

You felt like in this instant, you could forget about all the misery you experienced, and with him, you could start anew ; he made you feel whole in so many ways.

“Darling? Are you alright?”

With your head between his hands, he strokes your cheeks tenderly, wiping the tears from your exhausted eyes as you admire each detail in his expression. 

I think I’m in love with you. The words resonate loudly in your head. 

He chuckles softly, “Of course you do. How about we leave the love confessions for when you’re less inebriated, hm?”

Loud enough to leave your lips, it seems. If he didn’t answer, you would’ve believed you only thought about saying those dreaded words.

You hum and feel the weight of the day crash upon you and fatigue taking over you as Astarion holds you close, lulling you to sleep.

—

The next morning you awaken, and you're surprised to find Astarion still wrapped tightly around you.

His skin is warmer than usual, probably a result from sleeping skin to skin with you. After your confession from last night, you were scared he would leave you in the middle of the night, like the first time you slept together. You’re glad to find him still cuddled up next to you. You’re aware elves don’t normally sleep, but he seemed so peaceful, his face was relaxed and you could trace his smile lines next to his lips, and his curly hair slightly falling over his eyes.

Too afraid to end this precious moment, but still wanting to be closer to him, you nudge yourself into his arms, your nose touching his chest. You’re unsure if he’s conscious, but part of you thinks it would be better if he wasn’t. Relishing this moment of comfort with him, you mumble your next words against his chest.

“I’m… not expecting you to say it back, but I meant what I said yesterday. I don’t know where this’ll go, but I know I want to be with you.” 

You feel his arms hold you tighter against him.

You sigh in relief. Whether his movements were intentional, whether he heard you or not, you’re glad to have finally gotten that weight off your chest.

Maybe you can learn to be happy again.

-

I’ve never felt like this before

My heart knew I couldn’t

And then you take me in

And everything in me begins to feel like I belong

Like everybody needs a home

And when I take your hand

Like the world has never held a man

I know I cannot heal the hurt

But I will hold you here forever

If I can, if I can

#my posts #my writing #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #tav x astarion #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #ao3 #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #Spotify

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Adria,” your friend’s name, glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure.” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his brow furrowing with worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fandom #evan peters fluff #evan peters imagine #ahs murder house #evan peters smut #ahs fandom #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x you #evan peters x female reader #tate langdon #ahs cult #kit walker imagine #kit walker #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #fanfic #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #warren lipka #kit walker x reader #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x you #peter maximoff #colin zabel #evan peters dahmer

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Stay Awhile & Listen

Elks Chapter 5

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel's back from patrol and he has a surprise for you. Chapter Warnings: An abundance of softness, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, Joel talks a lot about feelings, reader's a nervous creature and Joel's good at taking care of her. Words: 3,700 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: We've made it folks! First chapter with smut.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist *** “See The Changes” by Crosby, Stills & Nash. 

You’ve never been outside the gates of Jackson since your arrival. You’ve lived with barriers longer than without them, why would you ever sign yourself up to see what lies beyond the iron and wood confines? You’re well aware you know less about how to survive than your own students. You’re sheltered you’ve never doubted that, you’re okay with that. Joel? Not so much. 

“You’ve never wanted to leave?” Joel asks over a cup of coffee sitting next to you on his couch. 

It’s Saturday, he’s exhausted after almost a week on a patrol. You could tell as soon as he ambled into your library, tired eyed and a little more gruff voiced than usual… and yet he still invited you over for dinner. He insisted on it even, no matter how much you offered to host him. “Nonsense, you’re working all day, let me cook.” 

“Not really,” you lean back after placing your empty cup on the table, “I’ve really had no reason, and it was never asked of me. I’m sure it’s really dumb of me.”

“Not dumb, just not smar—“

“Just say dumb, Joel,” you turn towards him. 

“Never call you dumb,” a hand cradles your cheek, “I just think you should know the basics of how the world works outside here, just in case there’s a problem. I don’t like the idea of you being unprepared. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“I do,” you answer moving to rest your head against his chest. “They put us through a rudimentary training program here when I first got here, I know how to defend myself.”

“Rudimentary?” 

“Yeah, it means basic.”

“You’re so smart, glad there’s people like you still around.”

“Well,” angling your head up towards him, “you just spent almost a week in the wilderness protecting us and scavenging for supplies. I’m glad there’s people like you.”

“Hm. Speaking of scavenging, I have something for you. S’why I wanted you to come over here. Shut your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you, okay?”

“Is it good, Joel?”

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. “Of course it’s good, now do what I said.”

You close your eyes, placing your hands over them for extra emphasis. You hear Joel grunt as he stands, he grabs your chin, angles it up and gives you a kiss. 

You feel giddy as you hear him walk away, you try to ascertain where Joel is headed over the soft music playing, hearing his footsteps bound up the stairs. 

You’re downstairs all alone, yet you still don’t open your eyes. 

“Eyes still closed?” Joel shouts from upstairs.

“Yes!” You yell, your voice sparking with excitement. 

“Alright, coming down,” heavy footsteps thud down the steps, “don’t peek.”

“I’m not. Promise.”

You rock back and forth on the couch edge as you hear Joel take a seat on his coffee table across from you. You know you’re a nervous creature, but you haven’t felt this type of excited nervousness in years. 

“You can open ‘em,” he softly instructs. 

Your eyes open, first focusing on Joel, a half grin on his face, your eyes move down to see he has something sitting on his lap.

“How in the world? Joel! How did you find this?” your voice peaking with elation as you grab the small gray box away from his lap.

“Traded my brother for it. He ’n Maria need a crib, so I just signed myself up to furnish their kid’s room.” 

“You didn’t have to do that, plus I don’t want to take their stereo. I can’t do that to them,” you reluctantly lift the stereo towards him.

“They still have a record player and besides, they were happy to help you out when I mentioned it to Tommy,” Joel pushes the stereo back in your lap. “It’s small, but it’ll work until we can get you something better.” 

You push down on the CD door and watch it pop open, you’re amazed the hinges still work, you had something like this in middle school. It was blue, you covered it in butterfly and smiley face stickers. 

“Joel, this is… wow,” tears well in your eyes at his thoughtfulness. “I’ve never had someone do anything like you’ve done for me. You just fixed my guitar last week, and now this?” You hastily wipe a rogue tear that escapes away, “I can’t thank you enough, this is so sweet.”

“No need for tears, it was nothing,” he wipes a tear from your cheek, “really sweetheart, I wanted to do this for you.” 

He grabs the stereo from your lap, placing it next to him on the table. “I still feel like I owe you so much for what you did in there,” his head turns towards his studio. “For years I never believed beauty could exist in this world, people like you never survived,” his eyes meet yours as he turns back, “’n I walk into my home one day ’n you’re with Ellie, I finally meet the teacher she won’t stop talking about. You were so beautiful, ’n you left, leaving your CD. I listened to it, selfishly, because I wanted to know more about you.”

His voice is so soft, his words wrapping you in a feeling you’ve never felt before. 

“All the songs on there I’d never heard, pretty new things you left that I got to hear. Then, you fall ’n I bring you in here, you tell me you painted that elk picture, all I could think about that night was how beautiful you were, just like your painting. I see everything you do in that school room, how pretty it is, how nice you made it for your kids, how you painted the flowers everywhere. After years and years of the life I lived, I needed you to do something like that for me, for my life. Every time I’m around you, I just can’t wait until I see you again.” His eyes don’t leave yours as he brings his hands up to hold your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs rubbing against your chin. “I keep on thinking about that enigma word you called me, and you’re the enigma for me. You still want to make the world—this world better… and you do. I can’t believe you exist, so caring, so soft, so smart, ’n so beautiful. I like when you’re near me, I like how you make me feel new after all this time.” 

Your heart blooms inside your chest, he’s always a man of few words, but the way he confesses his feelings, the way his voice deepens as he tells he you how feels, it makes you want him even more.

His name leaves your mouth as a breath, “I like you near me.” You can’t think of anything else to say.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he leans forward and kisses you, your hands moving to grab his arms. He’s so big and strong, yet his skin is always so soft and cushioned against your touch. 

His tongue parts your lips and languidly explores your mouth as you taste the bitter coffee left over on his tongue. The way his mouth fits against yours after his words of adoration makes you deepen the kiss grasping his arms tighter.

You want Joel, you’ve thought about last Saturday all week, tensity radiating through your body whenever you’d think about the feeling of your body pressed against his. Every night since lying alone in your bed you’ve been tempted to reach your hand between your legs and soothe the want, but you refused yourself. You dedicated a whole page in your sketchbook to drawing his plush lips, and now they’re back on you. 

You pull back from his kiss catching your breath. “Joel…” 

“You alright?” His wide eyes focused on you.

“I’m good, yeah, just… thinking about how little time it’s been… and I feel like everything is happening so fast… I don’t know, I like it, I just— is it okay?”

“It’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you,” he rubs your knees while he muses. “Time isn’t the same as it was, you take what you can get in the time s’available to you.”

You nod in agreement as goosebumps prickle along your legs from his touch. 

“You were in here only a few weeks ago when you fell,” Joel looks down, “still can see some of the marks left from the rocks on your knees.” He touches you firmer, like he’s trying to contain himself. “You’ve been on my mind since… sometimes you’re all I can think about I know it’s been a short time, but…” his hands roam farther up resting just below your thighs, “I want you, ‘n I really hate wasting time.”

His lips crash against yours, he’s never kissed you like this. It’s enigmatic, his mouth firmly against yours, and yet his movements are so tender, his hands petting you, slowly rubbing against your thighs, tongue languidly licking against yours, but the pressure against your mouth, the firmness of his fingertips as he rubs… he’s so tense and soft. Your arms wrap around his neck as you rise off the couch, your knees thumping against the table as you sit on his lap straddling his thick thighs, never breaking the kiss. 

Two weeks, it’s only been two weeks, but it’s been two weeks of longing glances, shared stories over meals, quiet understandings, smart replies followed by laughter. You’ve wanted this since you first saw him, the desire burning louder once he was no longer a handsome stranger. You’ve reached an ignition point, and Joel is right there with you, holding the match. 

His hands grab your hips, you can feel him against you, his pants tenting against your core.

Denim rubbing against denim as you grind down on top of him. 

Joel peppers kisses down to your chin, running his tongue along your neck, placing open mouth kisses against your collarbone. He explores you like he’s mapped his journey in his head. You tip your head back and moan out as his hands drag up and cup your breasts. He licks his way back up your neck, your hands grab at his jaw, the desire in his eyes darkening them. 

“Joel…” you breathe out.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I—I want you.”

“Heh,” his exhale hits your lips putting his forehead against yours, “I want you too, baby.”

Baby. A new name, nobody has ever called you baby. The way his drawl stretches out the aaaa, the way his eyes darken even more as he sees what that word does to you, your lips parting with a moan. He catches your moan with his kiss, his lips sucking on your bottom lip, your lips parting to lick his. 

He grabs you by the hips, pulling you closer making you adjust on top of him. He grunts as you grind your core even harder against him trying to soothe the ache between your legs. His hands snake under your shirt, calloused hands palm at the soft skin of your breasts. You haven’t been touched by anybody in over a year, but this? You’ve never been touched like this ever. Other men pale in comparison to Joel Miller. 

Your shirt feels too hot against your skin, you grab at your collar and pull it off, Joel leans back to watch you remove it, he lets out a low rumbled curse as you sit bare chested on top of him. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” Joel nuzzles his face against your neck and inhales. “Smell so sweet.” 

He buries his head between your breasts, thumbs stroking against your nipples as they harden under his touch. He moves his mouth sealing it over your nipple, your back arching when he sucks it farther in. You whine at the sensation, the want in you sparking even hotter at his touch. 

“Good baby?” His words muffled by your skin, his mouth doesn’t leave your breast. 

“Y-Yes, want your shirt off,” you gasp out, “Want to feel your skin.” He pulls away and straightens, lifting his faded black shirt up and off, throwing it on the couch behind you. 

Your hands reach out and survey the broad expanse of his chest, he’s so warm, you can feel the raised skin of the small scars peppered on him, the smattering of hair across his chest that leads down his belly to his jeans. His breathing rising and falling faster against your hand as you run it across his waistband. You watch yourself unbutton and unzip his jeans. Your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you rub your hands along the length of Joel hidden underneath his underwear. 

“Couch, let’s move,” Joel hisses out. “Here, get up."

You stand on shaky legs, he stays sat on the edge of his coffee table. His hands hold your hips pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your stomach. 

“Want to see all of you first, been thinking ‘bout this after that first day you were on my couch.” 

Your cunt clenches at his words, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, and he’s barely even touched you. 

Joel unbuttons and unzips your shorts, he glances up, you give him a nod with a smile that he returns. He pushes your shorts and underwear down leaving you bare and standing in the middle of his living room. Dark brown eyes roam over your body fully on display for him, brows furrowed in concentration as if he’s trying to memorize every mole, curve, scar, and mark on your body. 

“Can’t get over how pretty you are,” he stands up from the coffee table, leaning forward taking your chin in his hand and placing a kiss on your lips. “Now, sit on the couch for me baby.” 

You slowly lower down sitting in the middle pushing your legs together to try to quell the ache in between them.

He stands, his large body looms over you, jeans slung low on his hips, cock laying rigid against the denim. He bends forward and kisses you, hands grabbing your thighs spreading your legs open.

You can feel his breathing accelerate against you as his finger moves across your folds, testing your response, you moan into his kiss as he dips it in and traces a line from your clit to your hole and back.

You’ve imagined him doing this to you back when he was just a crush, just your handsome stranger, your enigma. You never imagined how thick his finger would be, how gentle his touch would feel, how his teeth would gently nibble against your bottom lip. 

“Christ. You’re so tight and it’s just one finger baby,” Joel says, voice low and whispered as he looks down. “Can I taste you?"

You have no words, you grunt a yes as he lowers himself on the floor and pulls you forward, spreading your legs wider. You’re not even shy, being on full display like this, legs stretched open, your pussy dripping for Joel to see. You want him to see all of you, it’s all you’ve ever wished for since that first day you saw his handsome face.

He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against your core. His groan vibrates against your cunt as he tastes you, licking a stripe up.

You’re dripping wet, when Joel adds a second finger you can feel how smooth it slides in and out of you. He looks up from in between your legs while swirling his tongue around your clit, his deep brown eyes gazing into yours. You can’t stop staring at him, the lines between his eyebrows set in determination as he eats you. Your fingers run through his hair, softly combing the waves as his fingers and tongue devastates you.

He’s proven to you numerous times how much he cares for you, but this? This is the ultimate way. The way his fingers pump you, the way his tongue presses down on your clit with the perfect pressure, this is the care you’ve always wanted. 

It’s all so much. What the two of you are doing here in his living room, the build up over the past couple of weeks, the crush you’ve had on him for months culminating here on his couch. The same couch he touched you so tenderly as he bandaged your knee, now that hand is gripping it to stay wide open as he devours you. 

You can feel your orgasm climbing inside with each lick against your swollen clit, each rub of his beard against your sensitive folds, each twist of his fingers inside you. You’re close, so fucking close, and when Joel moans against you, your pussy clenches as it floods with your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out, his tongue licking down to drink you in, tenderly lapping up your wetness, like he’s savoring you and trying to stretch out the time he has between your legs. You moan his name as he leaves a kiss on your clit before pulling away, his mouth and chin glistening from your orgasm. 

Your body tremors through the aftershock of your orgasm, legs still spread wide, your mouth held agape as you pant for air. His hands rub up and down your legs, watching you in awe.  

“Everything about you is too sweet,” he says with a shake of his head as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still can’t believe you’re real."

He kisses your knee before placing his hands on the couch, anchoring himself to stand. He winces as he rises and stretches his back out. 

“You okay?” you ask as you scoot your back against the couch, noticing how his cock still lays hard underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, just a bad back… probably shouldn’t have been on the floor for that long,” he sees you grimace in guilt, “but it was well worth it.” 

He settles on the couch next to you with a huff, pulling you next to him, feeling his bare chest against yours. 

“What about…” your hand runs up and down his thigh. 

“Mm?” Joel kisses the top of your head. 

“What about me doing the same for you?” your hand moves to grip his bulge. “I want to taste you too.”

Joel groans against your hair, “Yeah? Not gonna argue with that sweetheart.”

Your body thrums at the thought of having Joel in your mouth. You quickly get up from the couch excited that now is your chance to be able to show him how much you’ve thought about this moment.

“You just might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen baby,” he whispers in awe as you stand between his legs, “s’not gonna take me long.”

With his sweet words, you kneel down and tug at his jeans and briefs revealing his cock. It’s so large, just like his focus on you, just like the tension in the room, just like the orgasm he just gave you. 

You watch his face as you place a hand on his thigh and wrap your other hand around his rigid shaft, your eyes following the gulp of air he swallows travel down his neck. His skin is so soft here, so warm, you can’t wait to feel him inside your mouth. You slowly pump your fist down his length while lowering yourself onto the floor.

God, he’s gorgeous. His cock twitches in your hand as you hold it, wetting your lips, you bend forward and lick the drop of him that’s leaked out his tip. Salt, sweat… Joel. You moan at the taste, Joel lets a low curse growl out of his mouth when you take him deeper into your mouth. He’s so big, he stretches your lips, opens your throat, fills your mouth fully.

“S’good,” he croaks, his hand brushing a piece of hair away from your forehead, “so pretty.”

You bob your head down taking him to the back of your throat, the thought of how much his big cock is going to fill your cunt sends a flutter through your body. 

Joel’s hand tangles in your hair, lightly tugging and setting a pace as you suck him. 

“S’good baby, close— m’close,” his hips rising and falling to meet your movements.

You nod and hum in agreement hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder. 

His hips pull up, your name whispered out of his mouth as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop, reveling in the taste of him now being a part of you. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, “s’amazing.”

———

“So, about the CD player,” Joel’s voice interrupting your reverie, “I’ve decided it comes with a condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you come with me outside of Jackson for a day.”

“Joel…” 

It’s too late for ultimatums, the only reason you haven’t gotten off his couch and walked home is you’re too comfortable laying against his body that’s currently only clad in his underwear while all you wear is his t-shirt.

“It’s important, it doesn’t have to be now, but soon,” his tone is serious, like he’s overtly concerned about your safety and wellbeing. “Please do it for me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what’s out there…”

“And I do, ’n I’ll keep you safe, it doesn’t have to be for long… just long enough so if you do have to leave… it won’t be your first time out in years,” he urges. “Get your bearings ’n everything.” 

“You think I’ll be okay out there?”

“I wouldn’t ask of it if I didn’t think you’d be okay.”

“I suppose it makes sense.”

“S’pose so. Doesn’t have to be now but just, when the time is right, I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Okay, if it means I get to keep the CD player.”

Joel tightens his arms around you, pressing his lips against your hair. “You get to keep the CD player darlin’.”

You don’t leave Joel's until the next morning, the both of you falling asleep on his couch with his arms wrapped around you. 

A/N: Hi! If you've made it down this far, I appreciate you. Thank you for reading and sticking with this story. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know.

Tag list: @orcasoul

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #elks #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou joel #joel miller fic #joel miller smut

[nayziiz]

Speed | CS55

Summary: In a chance encounter at a gas station, a mysterious woman on a Yamaha YZF R6 catches the attention of Carlos, a charming Ferrari driver. Little did they know the journey they would both go on.

Warning: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Lola)

Masterlist

Chapter 3

As Carlos expertly parked the Ferrari right in front of the restaurant, Lola couldn't help but notice the large reserved sign that stood prominently in their designated spot. It was a subtle yet unmistakable indication of the evening's extravagance, a gesture that left her momentarily awestruck.

As Carlos stepped out of the car and came around to her side, offering his hand with a warm smile, Lola felt a rush of gratitude wash over her. Taking his hand, she allowed herself to be guided to the front door, the soft glow of the restaurant's exterior casting an enchanting aura over the scene.

With each step they took, Lola couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation building within her. This was no ordinary dinner—it was a night of luxury and indulgence, a world apart from her usual haunts. And as they reached the entrance, she finally understood what Carlos had meant when he said it was a fancy restaurant.

Stepping inside, Lola found herself enveloped in an atmosphere of opulence and grandeur, the elegant décor and soft lighting creating a sense of intimacy and sophistication that took her breath away. She had never been here before, nor had she ever been anywhere remotely as fancy. In that moment, she realised just how out of her element she was.

But as she glanced up at Carlos, his hand still clasped firmly in hers, she felt a sense of reassurance wash over her. Despite the lavish surroundings, he made her feel grounded and at ease, his presence a comforting anchor in the sea of luxury that surrounded them. Lola was a simple girl in many respects. His Ferrari may have caught her eye, but lavish things were never her end-all or be-all.

As Carlos pulled out her chair with practised elegance, Lola couldn't help but feel a flutter of appreciation at his gentlemanly gesture. Taking her seat, she offered him a grateful smile as he pushed her chair in, his warm gaze lingering on her as she settled into her seat.

As she removed her jacket, revealing the sleeveless top she wore underneath, Lola caught a flicker of surprise in Carlos's eyes. She couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on her pale skin, a hint of curiosity dancing in the depths of his eyes.

For a moment, Lola felt self-conscious under his scrutiny. She was used to the curious glances and whispered assumptions that often accompanied her appearance. But as she met Carlos's gaze head-on, she felt a sense of defiance rise within her. She was who she was, and she refused to apologise for it. To her surprise, Carlos's next words caught her off guard.

“I was almost expecting tattoos.” He admitted, his tone tinged with curiosity and genuine interest.

Lola's lips curved into a wry smile at his observation. It wasn't the first time she had been mistaken for someone with inked arms, but she couldn't fault Carlos for his assumption. After all, appearances could be deceiving.

But as she glanced down at her unblemished skin, she felt a sense of pride swell within her. Her arms were a canvas waiting to be painted with the colours of her choosing—a blank slate upon which she could write her own story.

“I guess I'm full of surprises.” She replied with a playful glint in her eyes, her words carrying a hint of mischief as she met Carlos's gaze. “You sure know how to treat a girl.”

Carlos's smile faltered for a moment at Lola's comment, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience. If only she knew the truth—that his busy schedule often left him with little time for anything beyond work, let alone finding someone to share a meal with.

As he watched her peruse the menu, a wave of admiration washed over him. Despite her initial hesitancy, Lola had agreed to go on this date with him, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for her willingness to give him a chance.

But beneath her flirtatious exterior, Carlos sensed Lola's underlying hesitation, her guarded demeanour a stark reminder of the walls she had built around her heart. And as he met her gaze, he knew that he had to tread carefully if he wanted to earn her trust.

“I'm glad you think so.” Carlos replied with a soft smile, his voice laced with sincerity.

After a few quiet moments, Carlos attempted to divert the conversation to a different topic.

“I wasn’t sure if you had any dietary preferences, so I thought this place might work well.” Carlos explained. Lola's smile widened at Carlos's explanation, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“That's... very considerate.” She replied, her voice soft with appreciation as she watched him study the menu.

As she observed him, Lola couldn't help but sense the undercurrent of nervousness that seemed to linger beneath his confident facade. It was a stark contrast to the boyish charm he had exuded the day before, and she found herself feeling strangely drawn to this new side of him—the vulnerable, uncertain Carlos who stood before her now.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Carlos closed the menu and set it aside, his movements deliberate as he met Lola's gaze.

Lola pondered the menu for a moment, her gaze flickering over the tantalising array of options before her. With so many delicious choices, she found herself feeling indecisive, unsure of what to order.

“What're you having?” She wondered, turning to Carlos for guidance.

Carlos considered the menu thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the descriptions of each dish with keen interest.

“I was thinking the Fillet Moutarde.” He replied, his voice laced with anticipation as he met Lola's gaze.

“I think I’ll have…the pork belly.” She eventually told him and placed the menu on his. Carlos nodded in understanding as Lola made her decision, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“The pork belly sounds delicious too.” He remarked, his tone warm and encouraging as he reached for her menu.

As he glanced over the menu once more, Carlos couldn't help but notice Lola's hesitation. He sensed her uncertainty, her desire to make a good impression despite feeling out of her element. And although he admired her willingness to try new things, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the realisation of just how stark the differences between them truly were.

“Good evening, sir. Good evening, madam. Can I offer you our wine list?” The waiter asked as he glanced between the pair.

“Good evening.” Carlos greeted the waiter with a polite nod, his gaze briefly meeting Lola's before returning to the waiter. “Thank you, but we won't be needing the wine list tonight. Perhaps just two glasses of Coke, please?”

Lola's heart skipped a beat as Carlos declined the wine list, a surge of gratitude washing over her. She appreciated his consideration. The waiter nodded understandingly and retreated with a polite smile, leaving Carlos and Lola alone once more.

Lola's chuckle bubbled up uncontrollably as Carlos made his suggestion, her amusement dancing in the air between them like a playful melody. The waiter nodded in acknowledgment before hurrying off to fulfil their request for sodas.

“Coke?” Lola asked, her chuckle finally escaping her lips in a soft, melodic sound. Carlos flashed her a sheepish grin.

“Well, I don't drink and drive.” He assured her with a playful twinkle in his eyes. Lola's laughter subsided, replaced by a thoughtful expression as she considered his question. 

“Mmh, I see. I don't really drink, at all, actually.” She confessed, her tone laced with honesty. Carlos arched an eyebrow in curiosity, his interest piqued by her revelation.

“Is that more of a health reason?” He wondered, his voice gentle and probing. Lola hesitated for a moment, considering her response carefully.

“Partly.” She admitted with a shrug. “I crashed my bike on my way home from a party back when I was at university. Ended up breaking my ankle, so I just never had a drink after that again. It usually takes just one small mistake and the next thing you know, everything is upside down.”

Carlos listened intently as Lola shared her story, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and admiration for her resilience. His gaze softened as he absorbed her words, a newfound understanding dawning within him. Lola's experience had left a lasting impression on her, shaping her choices and guiding her decisions in ways he could only begin to comprehend.

“And yet you still get on the bike.” Carlos countered, his tone filled with admiration for her courage. Lola nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

“There's something uniquely satisfying about controlling a powerful machine, especially when every ride is different and unpredictable.” She added, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As Carlos listened to her, he couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with Lola. He too had experienced the thrill of controlling a powerful machine, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he pushed himself to the limit on the racetrack.

But despite his success in the world of Formula 1, there was still a part of him that yearned for something more—for the exhilaration of the unknown, the thrill of the chase. And as he looked into Lola's eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing stir within him. For in her, he saw a kindred spirit—a fellow seeker of adventure, a lover of the open road.

As the waiter interrupted their conversation to take their orders and serve them their Cokes, Carlos couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment at the interruption. He was eager to learn more about Lola—to unravel the layers of complexity that lay beneath her outward appearance.

“So, what is it that you do when you're not out riding?” Carlos wondered, his curiosity piqued as he met Lola's gaze. Lola smiled warmly at his question, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

“I work in software development, so I help create apps and programs.” She answered, her voice tinged with pride. Carlos's eyebrows shot up in surprise, impressed by Lola's profession.

“Wow, not just pretty, but smart too.” He mumbled, completely enthralled by the woman sitting across from him.

Lola chuckled at his remark, a blush creeping into her cheeks at the unexpected compliment. She had always prided herself on her intelligence and hard work, but to hear it acknowledged by someone like Carlos was truly flattering.

Carlos had been out of the dating scene for what felt like an eternity. Sure, there had been a few attempts here and there—dates set up by his fellow drivers, Lando and Charles—but none of the girls had ever captured his interest quite like Lola did. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew there was something special about her—something that set her apart from the rest.

As he sat across from her now, Carlos couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness wash over him—a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a different kind of adrenaline, one that left him feeling more on edge than he ever did preparing for a race. But despite the nerves, there was also a sense of excitement—a thrill that coursed through his veins with every word she spoke.

He found himself mesmerised by the movement of her lips as she talked, the pale pink colour matching her complexion perfectly. It was a small detail, but one that left a lasting impression on him—a reminder of just how captivated he was by her presence.

As he listened to her speak, Carlos couldn't help but marvel at the way she lit up the room with her laughter and enthusiasm. There was a warmth and sincerity to her words that drew him in, leaving him hanging on her every word.

As Lola spoke, she couldn't help but notice the intensity of Carlos's gaze, his eyes seemingly fixated on her lips as they moved with each word she uttered. It was a subtle yet unmistakable gesture—one that left her feeling both flustered and intrigued.

For Lola, this wasn't just any ordinary date. It had been a while since she had ventured into the world of dating, and she found herself feeling equally unsure about how to navigate the conversation and experience. But despite her nerves, there was also a sense of excitement bubbling within her—a feeling she couldn't quite shake.

As she spoke, Lola couldn't help but feel a surge of self-consciousness wash over her, wondering if Carlos could sense her uncertainty. But as she met his gaze, she found herself drawn to the warmth and sincerity reflected in his eyes—a silent reassurance that she wasn't alone in this.

With each passing moment, Lola felt herself growing more comfortable in Carlos's presence, her laughter and enthusiasm flowing more freely as they shared stories and exchanged banter.

“Tell me what you do for work.” Lola insisted as she took a bite of her pork belly.

Lola's curiosity was piqued as she took a bite of her pork belly, her gaze fixed on Carlos as she awaited his response. She had sensed a hint of mystery surrounding his occupation, and she was eager to unravel the enigma that lay beneath.

“Well... It's, uhm, a bit difficult to describe without sounding crazy.” Carlos began, his voice tinged with a sense of hesitation. Lola's interest only grew as she leaned in slightly, her attention fully captured by his words.

“I drive for a living. Essentially, it's just one car, really, but it gets upgraded all the time and I kind of have to see what works and what doesn't.” He continued, his words coming out in a rush as he struggled to articulate the complexities of his profession. Lola furrowed her brow in confusion, trying to make sense of his vague description.

“Like a mechanic, then?” She countered, her curiosity getting the better of her. Carlos nodded slowly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I suppose in a way, yeah.” He admitted. “I work with the mechanics to make the car perform better.”

“That's so interesting.” Lola nodded, her eyes alight with curiosity as she absorbed Carlos's explanation. “And, you said you drive a Ferrari because you work for Ferrari?”

Carlos nodded in affirmation, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah. But, I've worked for McLaren and Renault previously as well.” He added, his tone tinged with a hint of pride. Lola's interest only grew as she listened to Carlos's words, her mind buzzing with questions. 

“How did you get into the whole car industry?” She continued, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“My father was a professional rally driver... I guess he still is.” Carlos chuckled, a fond smile gracing his lips as he reminisced about his childhood. “And I was just always around that space, so it just felt like a natural career path.”

Lola nodded in understanding, her gaze softening as she listened to Carlos's words. She could sense the deep connection he had to the world of racing, the influence of his father shaping his passion and driving him to pursue his dreams.

As they continued to savour their meals, Lola found herself lost in thought, reflecting on Carlos's words. Although she had been hesitant at first, her meal was delicious, each bite a symphony of flavours that danced across her palate.

Glancing over at Carlos's plate, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the sight of his meal. It looked ten times more appealing than hers, each dish expertly crafted and artfully presented.

“Would you reconsider taking me for that ride?” Carlos wondered, breaking the silence after a few moments, his voice filled with a hint of anticipation.

“On the bike?” Lola asked, her eyes widening in surprise as she almost choked slightly on her food at his unexpected request.

“Yeah, on your Yamaha XYZ.” Carlos chuckled again, a playful glint in his eyes as he purposely named it incorrectly. Lola couldn't help but playfully roll her eyes at him before breaking into a smile.

“Have you ever been a passenger on a bike before?” She asked, her curiosity piqued as she met his gaze. Carlos shook his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“When I was a kid.” He informed her, his tone laced with amusement. Lola laughed at his response, the sound melodic and infectious.

“Alright, we'll just go through some basics before we ride anywhere.” She replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

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

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @notyouraveragemochii @heyheyheyggg

#carlos sainz #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #carlos #ferrari #f1 2024 #ferrari f1 #formula one #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #cs55 #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine #cs55 fluff #cs55 fic #forza ferrari #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfiction #f1 imagines #biker girl #biker girl fic

[redrose10]

Finally here is the next chapter! Thank you to everyone that has been patient with me. I’m sorry this has taken so long. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out in a more decent time frame. Comments and messages welcome! Also if anyone wants to send a request for something small that I could write in a little bit of down time feel free! I’ll try to fit in what I can when I can.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 2,898

Tag List: @viankiss @kam9404 @igot7fairlyoddparents

After giving him some space you decided to leave the bedroom with Cherry following closely at your heels. Mae met you in the hallway. “He’s outside dear”., she whispered before heading off to her room. It still amazed you that she seems to always know what you’re thinking.

Just like she said you found Yoongi in the backyard sitting on bench near a very large maple tree. His shoulders were slumped over and he reached up wiping away a few tears. Cherry quickly ran over pawing at his leg begging to be picked up. Yoongi scooped up the small dog before looking up and finally noticing you standing there. Taking a deep breath you slowly walked over not wanting to startle him before taking a seat on the bench.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. I can’t believe I just forced my first kiss on you. Can we please just pretend that never happened?”

You were honestly surprised that he spoke first, but the shake in his voice told you he was seconds from loosing it. You also noticed his skin was a deep red and his fingers trembled as he pet the dog in his lap.

“Yoongi you have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to have feelings and emotions. And if you would’ve stayed I could’ve done this.”

Using your sudden burst of confidence you leaned over placing another kiss on his lips. “Y/N you don’t have to pretend to like me back. I don’t need a pity kiss from you. Besides you’re leaving in a couple days anyways so none of it matters.”, he sighed looking stunned.

“Um no I actually got the okay to stay here and continue to work so I’ll be here for a while as long as you and your grandmother will have me.”, you smiled. Subtly his lips curled into a small smile.

“Also that wasn’t a pity kiss and I do actually like you and would love to get to know you some more.”, you continued happily with the sudden shift in emotions. As much as you wanted to just pin him down and show him how much you liked him you knew something like that would probably make his head explode so you decided to go very very slowly.

Cherry gave his hand a few licks and you saw the biggest gummy smile making your heart swell.

The next morning you and Yoongi prepared a nice lunch to take over to Taehyung’s farm. You could tell he was extremely nervous about going there.

“Hey they are nice guys. They really do want to get to know you and be friends with you. I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise. And if it gets too much just let me know and we can leave.” He nodded in agreement as you made the walk up to the cafe.

Jin greeted the two of you with a huge smile before Taehyung came bounding out. He wrapped you both in big hugs and you made a mental note to let them know that Yoongi doesn’t do well with physical affection. The rest of the guys quickly trickled in taking a seat at one of the large tables.

You and Yoongi set out their lunches while Jin brought over some lemonades and a few strawberry coconut cookies for you and Yoongi to try.

The guys all tried their best to keep Yoongi a part of the conversation and really make him feel welcome. Surprisingly he seemed to enjoy himself, even making a joke that got quite a bit of laughter out of everyone. You could feel the confidence start to build in him and it made you smile. He really seemed to take a liking to Namjoon. It probably had something to do with the fact that Namjoon was a little calmer and more soft spoken than the rest of the guys.

You were just starting to clean up when the front bell rang signally a new customer had arrived. Everyone turned to look which was closely followed by gasps and soft groans. You didn’t noticed anything odd. It was just a woman about your age, but the way the tension filled the air told you something was off.

Looking next to you Yoongi was staring down at his hands that were positioned on his lap. He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Y/N can we please go home?”

“Yeah of course.”, you nodded not wanting to push him past his limit.

As you stood up the woman came walking over. The tall blonde excitedly exclaimed, “Oh hey guys! How are you? It’s been a while.”

Hobi cleared his throat, “Yep sure has Jae.” The rest of the guys remained silent except for Jin who was now standing behind the counter. “You can order over here.”, he motioned.

The woman began to walk over when she stopped in her tracks turning her attention towards Yoongi. Subtly his shoulders tensed up.

“Oh my God, Yoongi?! Min Yoongi? Is that you? I’m surprised you managed to leave your cave.”, she squeaked. Her voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“Jae you can order over there with Jin. We’ll have it right out to you.”, Taehyung spoke up.

“Oh I will but I want to catch up with Yoongi here. I mean it’s been a long time. Since high school right?” Taehyung made another motion for her to walk away, but she ignored it and instead turned her sights on you.

“Yoongi has a girlfriend? No fucking way! You ended up being less of a weirdo than I thought you would Yoongles.”

The more she spoke the more you wanted to walk over and punch her perfectly straight teeth right out of her mouth.

“Jae that’s enough. Order or leave, now.”, Jungkook growled surprising you with his anger.

“Alright alright, I’m just gonna leave. This is why I rarely come back to this dump of a town anyways. I had heard this was a nice cafe, but if it associates with you people then it can’t be all that great.”

She began to walk out the door when you heard Yoongi sniffle next to you which set you off. Slamming your hands down on the table you stormed out of the cafe chasing after the woman.

“Excuse me, who the fuck are you? And why do you think you’re allowed to come treat people like that?”, you shouted inches from her face.

She laughed at you, “Oh not only are you his little girlfriend you’re also his watchdog too? I never took him as the type to go after strong willed and dominating girls, but then again he did try to go out with me once so I guess it makes sense.”

Her words hit you as you recalled Mae’s story about the dance. “ Oh you’re that girl who asked him to go to the dance, but instead played a mean prank on him. You’re repulsive and a terrible person.”, you spat slowly backing away in disgust.

“Oh please. That was like fifteen years ago and he’s clearly still not over it. He needs to grow up and move on. Maybe get some therapy or something.”

You scoffed, “He’s perfectly fine the way he is. Especially considering how awful he’s been treated for doing nothing but existing. I hope you receive the karma you deserve.”

It was her turn to scoff, “Listen I know you’re new here so you don’t really know Yoongi that well so I’m gonna give you some advice. Run. Run as far away from him as you can. He’s damaged goods. Broken. Weird. Fucked up. Whatever you want to call it. We tried to be nice to him back then. He’d run in terror whenever we got within five feet of him or he’d just glare at us. You’ll never have a normal relationship with him. He’ll never be able to fully love you so do yourself a favor and leave.”

You watched as she got in her expensive vehicle and sped off. Footsteps quickly ran up behind you before a hand grabbed onto yours. Spinning around you were met with Yoongi. His cheeks red as tears spilled from his eyes. “Please Y/N, can we go home?”, he begged barely able to speak. “Of course, let’s go.”, you nodded gently taking his hand. Running inside to grab your things you were overjoyed when Taehyung offered to drive you guys back to the inn. You took the middle seat in his truck making sure to help Yoongi in after you and cracking the wind into get him some air.

When you arrived at the Inn Yoongi quickly exited the truck and headed straight for the door. You gave Taehyung a quick thank you and goodbye and followed close behind. Thankfully Mae was nowhere to be found as you really weren’t in the mood to have to explain everything that had just happened.

Quietly you tiptoed down to Yoongi’s room before gently pushing open the door. He had already made himself comfortable under the covers.

You closed the door a little harsher than you had opened it so that he would know you were in the room with him and wouldn’t startle too much. You sat down on the bed and softly brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. His skin still warm and red.

“Are you okay?”, you asked barely above a whisper.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it and nothing she said is true.”

The room stayed silent except for the sound of Cherry’s nails hitting the hardwood from she were in the house.

“Maybe she is correct. I am broken and you should stay away. I’m not worth the trouble.”, he cried.

It took everything in you not to run and hunt that woman down.

“No Yoongi, you’re not broken. You are perfect the way you are and I’m willing to do what it takes to get you to see that.”, you replied wiping away the tears.

Wanting to give him some space you stood up and turned to face the door before feeling a hand grab your wrist.

“Please s-stay with me.”, he barely managed to get out.

Nodding you laid on top of the covers facing him watching as he slowly started nodding off as you continued to gently run your fingers through his hair.

You had no intention of falling asleep next to Yoongi, but here you were waking up several hours later. The light leaking through his dark curtains telling you that it was the following morning already.

Yoongi was still sleeping next to you. His lips opened to the slightest pout that made him look adorable. As gently and quietly as possible you got out of the bed and headed towards the kitchen making sure to close the door behind you.

Mae was already in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Ahh good morning Y/N. Looks like you and Yoongi had a fun night.”,

Instantly your eyes widened in panic, “Oh no no no, nothing like that happened. We just fell asleep I promise.”

“Relax dear. Jin stopped by to drop off some pastries and check on Yoongi. He told me everything. Besides, you and Yoongi are both adult. I don’t care what the two of you do as long as it’s not done in the kitchen.”, she laughed.

You let out an awkward chuckle unsure if she was being serious or not, but either way you didn’t want to find out.

“Here Y/N, try one of these muffins Jin dropped off. They are delicious!”, she exclaimed sliding one over to you.

Happily you took a bite and had to agree that they were incredible.

After a new bites and some silence Mae spoke, “I want to thank you Y/N, for standing up for Yoongi. No one has ever done that for him.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’ve never been so angry before. I hate seeing people get treated like that.”

She nodded in agreement before packing up some of her belongings.

“Y/N sorry to run, but I’m gonna try and head out a little early today so that I can leave before Yoongi wakes up. I have an important doctors appointment and I just don’t want him to have that added stress after everything that happened.”

You agreed and helped her out to the car before heading back inside. You cleaned up your dishes and then decided to get some work done. The novel was coming along better than you had hoped and your boss was very happy with the progress, even making a joke that you should just move and live at the inn full time so you could keep churning out work like that. You knew it was a joke but a small part of you was really wondering if you could make that work.

A couple hours later you heard Cherry excitedly running through the inn which meant that Yoongi was awake so you made your way to the kitchen. He was sat at the table nibbling on a muffin. His hair was still ruffled and his eyes were surrounded by dark circles. He clearly didn’t slept as good as you thought he did.

“Good morning Y/N, do you know where my grandmother is by chance?”, he asked.

“Umm yeah she said she had to run into town for a few things. Should be back soon.”, you tried your best to lie.

“Oh I wonder why she didn’t ask me to go with her.”, he pouted.

“Any plans today?”, you asked trying to change the subject while handing him a cup of coffee.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe work in the garden a little.”

“That sounds nice. Do you care if I help?”

He shook his head so you quickly went off to change into some clothes that you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.

The two of you walked out to the garden with some tools in hand. Yoongi showed you how to pull some of the weeds and how to check if the produce was ripe or not. The way he so delicately touched everything kept you in awe. You were so mesmerized that in your daze you weren’t paying attention and instead of snipping the dead leaf off of the bush you were working on you missed and made a small cut on your thumb. Dropping the small garden shears and hissing out in pain you panicked as you saw the red liquid immediately start to pour from the wound. Not wanting to worry Yoongi you tried to discreetly look for a towel or rag, but it was too late and he and already noticed.

“Y/N are you okay? Come here.”, he said grabbing your non bleeding hand and pulling you into the kitchen. He took out the same first aid kit from under the sink and began cleaning and bandaging the wound.

You couldn’t help, but smile as you watched him work. His fingers softly brushed over your hand as he maneuvered the bandage and cleaned up.

“There!, good as new.”, he smiled.

When he looked up to meet your gaze you quickly leaned in an placed a soft kiss to his lips and then braced for him to up and run away, but to your shock he stayed.

“What was that for?”, he asked in a soft whisper.

You shrugged, “A thank you for taking care of me because I’m a klutz that was too busy admiring my cute gardening partner instead of paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Oh okay.”, he nodded and you’d be lying if you’d say that didn’t hurt a little until you saw a faint flush form on his cheeks.

Then he leaned in and placed another kiss to your lips, this one a little firmer and more confident.

“What was that for?”, you asked.

“A you’re welcome and because I think you’re cute too.”, he shyly smiled.

You started to lean in for an another kiss, but were stopped when the front door of the inn slammed open startling both of you.

“Hello, Yoongi?” Are you here?,” someone shouted.

“I’m sorry. I have to go check on that.”, Yoongi sighed, but you nodded in agreement.

He walked out to the front desk area to greet the guest so you finished cleaning up before hearing footsteps behind you.

When you turned around you weren’t expecting to find a very disheveled and upset Yoongi.

“Yoongi what’s wrong? What happened?”, you asked running over.

“We need to go…I need to go…It’s…She’s…”

Reaching for his arm you tried to soothe him, “Yoongi what’s wrong? I’ll help you. Just take a deep breath.”

“My grandmother is in the hospital. She had a heart attack while in town. I need to go see her.”

You nodded, “Okay let’s go.”

Thankfully the man that had came to tell Yoongi the news offered to drive you both to the hospital.

The two of you sat in the waiting room. Yoongi’s leg nervously bounced next to you as you grabbed his hand to reassure him you were there. You knew that things weren’t looking good, but you could only hope that his grandmother was going to be okay. You didn’t think his heart could take any more.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #bts x reader #yoongi au #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #jin #taehyung #jungkook #namjoon

[lettersofgold]

-> unthinkable | chapter two | jules k.

genre: angst, fluff, smut | authors note: no words for how much I love writing this fic and how much I love jules, enjoy xx | loosely proofed.

warnings: google translations, loosely proofed

summary: jules could never get it quite right. no girl gave him the feeling that he had with you. he wasn’t even sure he knew how to love a woman until you came into his life - even when he was dating around, his loyalty and heart were with you. you couldn’t find someone who stirred the feeling of love in you the way jules did, but he was just a friend and he wasn’t done playing the field. the two of you were giving each other the love you both never felt before and after fighting it for so long, you realized you both deserved it and you were finally ready.

Jules played his heart out. He struggled to think of a time in his life when he fought so hard in a match, mentally and physically, just to come out with nothing to show for it. He was depleted but still mustered up energy for fans waiting for him. He signed a few jerseys, took some photos, then headed back to the locker room to wash away the disappointment. The team was quiet except for the murmuring of the captains. His teammates trickled into the dressing room after completing their media obligations looking as solemn as he was. Jules took a long, deep breath and laid his head back in his locker and stared at nothing. He could not stop replaying the mistakes that cost them the match. He wanted to be angry but his team fought to the very end and that was all anyone could ask for. Jules felt guilty for letting the fans down and a part of him felt he let you down too. It was silly for him to genuinely want to do a stupid dance to see you smile but he wanted to make you being there worth it. It was surprising to see you in a Barca shirt, but it was even more surprising that you were cheering and laughing with a random man. He obviously was a friend or family of an employee of Barca but he had no clue who it could be. He loved seeing you cheer him on but the sight of you smiling and chatting with a man created a sour feeling that settled deep in his stomach. With the disappointment of the match, seeing you focused on someone else, and having to do a presser made him feel worse. Everything felt like utter, complete, shit. At the very least, he would be able to see and hug his friends. For that alone, he had something to look forward to after a nice hot shower.

The family area was crowded but Jules spotted Candace and Kaia immediately. Kaia was her usual, comforting self as she gave him a quick hug and words of encouragement.

“Jugaste bien, Jules. Te veías genial ahí fuera. Incluso Corey lo dijo.” (You played well, Jules. You looked great out there. Even Corey said so.)

Kaia praised Jules but all three of them knew it wasn’t enough to heal the wound created by the lackluster overall performance. The other team outplayed them, it was simple. It never failed to confuse him that his team could have all the pieces to win and look so good on paper yet continue to come up short. It was beginning to be a cycle they couldn’t break. Jules didn’t care that Candace was standing there with a tight face. He didn't pay much mind to Candace, which he found himself doing more and more as of late. She was hot and she was fun to be with but she couldn’t read the room as well as she thought. Candace kissed his cheek before wrapping herself around him for a tight hug.

“Can we take a photo?” Candace asked as she hugged him and Jules’ eye caught Kaia, who gave him a sympathetic look. She didn’t comfort him about the game, all she could think about was a photo.

“I’m not up for it right now, Candace”. He said in a low voice so no one could hear. Jules pulled away and she looked towards her feet, clearly disappointed. There was a lull of silence and Jules asked where you were, his voice neutral. He was so tired he just wanted to go home and sleep off all the losses but not without a proper goodbye to his best friend.

“I think she’s still inside the suite.” Kaia said, looking back towards the elevator. “She needs to hurry. I got an Uber.”

“I think she’s still talking to Davi.”

Davi, who is Davi? He thought. He racked his brain and there was no recollection of a man named Davi.

Candace could see the displeasure on his face and she decided to hammer the nail into the casket. She rarely found herself threatened by any woman. In fact, she liked you. What she didn’t like was Jules’ fondness for you. Yes, you two were friends, Jules made that very clear but it didn’t put out the fire created by the devil on her shoulder. She wanted Jules to herself and she thought that to be fair - they were dating…sort of. Candace knew she was the one going home with him. She was the one who was going to comfort him, love him, and sleep with him until he couldn’t think of any other woman but her. Candace was going to leave no room for questions when it came to your whereabouts so Jules knew where your priorities were - not with him and with another guy.

“They chatted the entire game.” She rasped, “She was sooo flirty.” She egged on with a tiny shimmy of her shoulders.

Candace’s eyes flickered over to Kaia who smiled softly. The woman pushed Kaia to answer to which she simply nodded in agreement before making a comment that it was only a matter of time until you return.

“I’m going to the ladies room in the meantime. I’ll be back.” Candace excused herself.

Kaia moved closer, filling the space left by Candace and as she watched Jules search the room for you, his efforts to be discreet were not effective. Kaia knew how much Jules cared for you, and that was without a doubt. However, standing there watching him search for you with downturned lips, she realized that Jules didn't just care for you as his best friend, but he yearned for your presence and attention. Kaia was amazed but also in disbelief. She knew that she needed to call her fiancé, Corey, as soon as she had some time alone and away from both of you.

“¿Estás bien?” She asked and Jules nodded but he didn’t turn to her. (Are you okay?).

“Por supuesto.” Jules questioned and finally turned to look at his friend. She had a grin tugging on her lips that she was failing to fight. “¿qué?” (Of course.) (What?)

Jules followed Kaia’s eyes and looked behind him to see you picking up your pace into a small jog to meet him with a hug. Jules breathed easier for a moment as he inhaled the familiar scent of perfume. You were giddy and if he wasn’t mistaken, you might have also been tipsy.

“Jules!” You started, your hands still gripping his arms even though you released him from the hug. Jules looked down at you then back up and behind you at the man, who he presumed to be Davi. Davi looked familiar but Jules was unable to put his finger on it.

“My voice is going to be gone when I go to work but this was worth it. You’ll get ‘em next time.” Even though people said the same thing in various ways, it sounded sincere coming from you. He took you in for a moment: the Barca shirt was form fitting and did wonders for your figure and your staple stacked gold necklaces were a perfect contrast against your skin. You looked so happy in his team colors and he knew he found a plus-one to each match Candace attended in the future.

“This is Davi,” you motioned for the man to come closer. You stepped away as Davi opened his hand and took Jules in for a dap-up and bro hug.

“Nice to meet you, man. Joáo told me about you before I came.”

“Joáo?” Jules repeated, becoming more confused about the situation.

“Davi is Joáo’s cousin.” “He’s my baby cousin.” The two of you spoke at the same time and you giggled. Jules knew you were tipsy by the way your glossy eyes found Davi’s - when you were with Jules you laughed with your whole body. Not a small, tiny giggle like the one you just did. Jules blinked slowly and turned his attention to Kaia, needing to focus on anything other than the obvious flirting that was happening in front of him. He didn’t enjoy it and it didn’t amuse him in the slightest. He found himself annoyed at the idea of it.

“Your Uber is probably on the other side of the stadium.” Jules informed Kaia, ignoring their laughter.

“Let me walk you to your Uber.” Davi offered and you accepted with the same smile that was usually aimed at Jules. It was odd seeing you basking in the attention of a man.

“Te enviaré un mensaje de texto cuando la deje en su casa.” (I’ll text you when I drop her off at her house.) Kaia assured Jules.

Jules’ jaw ticked at the sight of you and Davi and that was all the confirmation she needed - there was something more and Jules was doing an awful job at keeping it at bay.

“You owe me dinner.” You reminded him with a pointed finger. Jules chuckled with a final side hug to you and Kaia before shaking Davi’s hand. Davi motioned for you to walk in front of him and you obliged.

“See ya later Jules.” You called over your shoulder.

—

“You okay?” Iñigo’s accent was thick as he sat in his locker next to Jules. Jules was tugging off his shirt as he muttered a half-assed yes and continued changing out of his sweaty gear from training. He sighed and plopped down on the bench of his locker, putting his face in his hands for a moment and took in a deep breath before looking towards his teammate. A week passed but his mood had not changed.

“Why?” He asked with an arched brow. Iñigo was perceptive and as the question left Jules’ mouth, he instantly regretted it. He did not have the capacity to have conversations that were not about football and weren’t about the team.

“Something’s bothering you,” Iñigo stated as a matter of fact, “and your attitude sucks.”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“You’ve been short with everyone all day.”

“So?” Jules replied, genuinely not caring about his own feelings. His tone was curt, proving Iñigo’s statement.

“Whatever, forget it.” Iñigo bowed out of the conversation and focused his efforts on changing out of his own gear, letting the silence brew between them.

The question bothered Jules but not enough for it to linger on his brain. He was thinking of contacting Corey about adding in an extra training session, which would now be five days, instead of the three days he worked in the past. Corey constantly reprimanded Jules for not using recovery days to his advantage but he never turned the footballer away when he showed up at the gym, eyes hungry and ready to conquer a session. He shot a text to Corey letting him know that he’d come in later after a couple of meetings with his manager.

—

Jules sat in his living room confirming different events his manager thought he would be interested in attending - each fashion invitation was an automatic yes. The others, he sent questions about to confirm whether or not it would interfere with his decision to add extra training to his work load. He listened to ESPN+ in the background, trying to finish the calendar quickly so he could leave for Corey’s gym. Candace came around the corner with her phone in hand before she noticed Jules on the floor with a tight look on his face as he typed on his laptop.

“You okay?” She sat on the couch beside him and tucked her legs underneath herself.

“Fine.” Jules clipped, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Okay…” Candace drew out before leaning over to look at his calendar. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to Paris Fashion week?!” She exclaimed.

“No, I’m going to fashion week.” Jules snapped then immediately apologized when Candace slumped backwards into the couch. He moved his laptop and leaned over to kiss her pouty lips and apologized once more. “I’m so exhausted and they didn’t give me a plus one - just my manager.”

“S’okay.” She said with obvious hurt. “Just to spend more time with you, you barely see me.”

Jules placed his hands on either side of her legs and leaned in to kiss her which she greedily accepted, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer and deeper. The kiss was hot and slow, stirring up a need in Jules that he couldn’t deny - he loved how much she needed him. It fueled his ego.

“We have time right now,” he spoke against her lips.

“Really?” She smiled at his suddenness to be all over her. “How much time, baby?”

“More than enough.”

—

It was nearing the end of the brutal training session when the same question rolled off of Corey’s lips, “Are you good?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?” Jules rebutted. He groaned in frustration, dropping the weights harder than he should have. He stepped away from the plates and interlocked his hands on top of his head. “I’m fine.” He muttered looking up at the ceiling.

“You’ve been acting like a bitch.” Corey said nonchalantly which got him a stream of French curse words from his friend.

“I’m just tired.” Jules released with a shrug of his shoulder. Jules wore his emotions all over his body. It was in the way he walked and talked but especially in his eyes - they never lied. Corey could see through his bullshit answer.

“If you say so.”

After the match Kaia damn near kicked down the door to tell him what had happened. She had a theory that Jules was actually into his best friend, a theory which Corey refused to believe. She argued with him about it, laying out the evidence until it all came together. It was easy to see when he considered all the interactions he witnessed. But even with that revelation it meant nothing in the long run because he was dating Candace. He argued about Jules’ loyalty - the footballer was a bit of a playboy but he wasn’t a cheater. He was honest. Kaia had an argument for that too as she reasoned with Corey about why he was constantly dating women: he was getting his physical needs met but was emotionally attached to you. He didn’t just want you but he needed you.

Corey eyed his friend and began racking the weights and asked nonchalantly if Jules had talked to you recently.

“Yeah, why?” Jules chest was still heaving from the lift but was calming and eased at the mention of your name.

“Kaia was telling me about that guy…uh, I can’t think of his name…” Corey pretended.

“Davi.” He spat out.

“Him! Kaia said they’ve been talking recently,” Corey was ready to poke the bear and see what the reaction would be, “Has Joáo mentioned him?”

“No.” Jules’ tone had a bite to it and that was all the confirmation he needed.

Corey stopped asking questions and eased into telling him what to expect with adding two more days of training. He had Jules’ attention and focus but Corey’s mind still wandered to the time the two of you were sitting together at Kaia’s kitchen counter, leaned into each other as if the world didn’t exist. Corey thought of the look of Jules’ as he listened to you speaking with animated hands and how his eyes never left your face - not even once.

Jules stood with his bag on his shoulder and loosed a breath before saying goodbye to Corey. He pulled out his phone to call you and it went straight to voicemail. He called again and this time, it rang twice before it was declined. He figured you and Kaia escaped to the town for dinner considering Corey changed his plans to fit an extra training session in. He reminded himself to apologize to Kaia and give her a gift.

you: at dinner, talk later?

Jules liked the message and stuffed his phone into his pocket, tossing his keys around his finger. The night was cool and he strode to his car before stopping mid step. His heart was beating as if he just sprinted all the way there. In the moonlight parked next to his own car, sat Kaia’s polished Range Rover. Yet you were at dinner.

taglist 🔖 | @queenshikongo3 @abiigaiil1234 @hopefulromantic1 @christianpulisic10 @vile-harlot @02wrldz @milflieutenant @savecharlosfromferrari @jasmindaughteroftheworld @808heartz

#football fanfic #jules kounde x reader #jules kounde fic #jules kounde x y/n #jules kounde x you #jules kounde imagine #jules kounde #football fic #football one shot #football x reader

[infinitefolklore]

Elucien Fanfic Master Post

In The Darkness Before the Dawn, Leave a Light On

About: Elain is sent to the Mortal Lands to live with Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa to work on her Seer abilities, find a way to break Vassa's curse, and try to discover information about Koschei. Elain and Lucien are forced to live and work together, and get to know one another along the way.

Status: In Progress

Tropes/Tags: Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Lust, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant

A Little Bit of Light Reading

About: Elain is all alone at the Town House and Lucien makes a surprise appearance. They decide to "explore the mating bond," but for how long can they keep it a secret? And what happens when the Inner Circle starts meddling in their business? Note: This fic became slightly AU towards the end!

Status: Complete; 43 Chapters; 120,896 words

Tropes/Tags: Smut, Dirty Jokes, Secret Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Drama, Banter, Library Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Family Shenanigans, Sneaking Around, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff without Plot, Drama Llama, Fist Fights, Jealousy, Love Triangles

Little Dove

About: Human!Elain and Fox!Lucien. This is a slight canon divergence deleted scene. After Feyre is taken to Spring Court, Tamlin sends Lucien to go check on the Archeron Estate. Lucien finds Elain all alone and offers her some company. Elain discusses her upcoming betrothal to Graysen, and Lucien tries to convince her to change her mind.

Status: Complete; One Shot; 10,895 words

Tropes/Tags: Alternate Canon, Deleted Scenes, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, One Shot, Fox Mask Lucien, Flirtatious Rake Lucien, Inexperienced Elain, Flirting

Healer in the Night

About: Lucien has been away on the continent on a mission. No one has heard from him in over two months. Elain is worried. On a dark and stromy night, he shows up bloody on her doorstep. Elain nurses him back to health.

Status: Complete; 5 Chapters; 12,750 words

Tropes/Tags: Healing, Injury, Injury Recovery, Angst, Fluff, Elain takes care of Lucien, Lucien is a gentleman, And a flirt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Mating Bond, Eventual Smut, because everyone convinces me to write smut

Meet Me On The Battlefield

About: Lucien is captured by Koschei and our poor fox boy doesn't think anyone is coming to save him. He's wrong.

Status: Complete; 6 Chapters; 12,022 words

Tropes/Tags: Dungeon, Prison, Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Mention of torture, blood and injuries, don't worry this will have a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Final Battle, Lucien is hopeless, Then he changes his mind, I don't want to give too much away in the tags, Lucien Vanserra-centric

Four Minutes

About: The Night Court attends a party in Dawn Court. Lucien finds out some information and turns into an absolute flirt. There's ballroom dancing, except hot. Elain can barely contain herself.

Status: Complete; 4 Chapters; 12,425 words

Tropes/Tags: Ballroom Dancing, Forced Proximity, Regency Romance, Lucien is a flirt, hot and bothered, Lust, Longing, Drinking, alcohol use, Gossip, Song Lyrics, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Teasing, Smut Obviously

Solstice Traditions

About: Lucien comes to the River House on Winter Solstice eve with another gift for Elain. He is pleasantly surprised by her reaction.

Status: Complete; 3 Chapters; 16,198 words

Tropes/Tags: Winter Solstice, holiday fluff, Gift Exchange, Cute, Fluff, Mating Bond, Smut, Honestly was not planning smut but you all asked for it, absolute filth, Elain wears lingerie

ENJOY <333

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #a03 #elucien fanfiction #lucien vanserra fanfic #elain archeron fanfic #smut fanfic #fluff fanfic #emotional fanfic

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 5: Your Opal Eyes Are All I Wish To See

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: this is a short chapter sorry! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

It was comical, the way the cricket chirping filled in the silence as you stared at the older man. Your mouth formed the words but nothing came out, leaving you looking like a fool. You glanced between the two men, Hosea having a sympathetic look on his face. You couldn’t see Arthur, as he was behind you, but you quite honestly didn’t want to see his reaction. A sinking feeling formed in your gut. Did he know the entire time?

“I… what?” You finally found your voice, barely. You had to admit, it did make sense. You knew so little about his work, only knowing that he did distillery work, but made a surprising amount of money from it. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was actually invested in more… illegal means of work.

“If there’s a moonshine shack in the western states, then Mr. Kerrigan is tied to it. Either he owns it, supplies it, or gets a cut from it. No matter where you look, his fingers are all over it.” Hosea spoke, he and Dutch had moved closer to you now, now that they realized you wouldn’t lash out angrily at the information.

“Alright…” you took a breath. “So how does this include me?”

The two gentlemen looked surprised at your willingness, and that predatory smile returned to Dutch’s face. “You see, Arthur told us you might be willin’ to help us… deter your husband from further illegal endeavors… while we get our own cut, of course.”

At the mention of Arthur, you turned to look at him, finding him glaring at Dutch. “I thought I told you I don’t want her involved in this.”

“I know. But we couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.”

Another sinking feeling formed, this one stronger than he last, and the thought was dizzying. Did he only get close to you to secure a job?

You had to turn away from Arthur, no longer able to look at him. You didn’t think he’d be that cruel, right? Still, you couldn’t help the hurt and anger swirling in your mind. 

Silence hung in the air now, and even the crickets seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, halting their songs. “Let’s continue this conversation inside,” you said through the lump in your throat. Climbing up the stairs of the porch, you held the door open, gesturing for the men to come inside. “Go ahead and take a seat in the living room. Just take your shoes off,” you added as they entered.

Arthur stayed put, looking at you with an indistinguishable expression. He murmured your name gently, but you just shook your head. Sighing, Arthur slowly climbed the stairs, halting in front of you in the doorway. When you still didn’t look at him, he continued on inside, glancing back at you with guilt in his eyes. 

Dutch and Hosea sat on one of the couches, chatting between each other, and Arthur sat on the one beside them. They stopped their conversation when you walked in, and you shook your head, signaling for them to continue. “I’ll go get some tea,” you murmured, heading to the kitchen, and you heard them resume talking, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

You took a shaky breath once you were alone in the kitchen, bracing yourself against the countertop. You felt like you should’ve been more surprised about your husband's true business, but that wasn’t what was causing the negative emotion you weren’t feeling. Those two questions were playing on repeat in your head, and left you analyzing every moment you’d had with Arthur, questioning the authenticity of them. 

The clinking of his gun belt moving as we walked brought you back to the present. Straightening up, you grabbed the kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove, and began the process of boiling it. You didn’t even look at Arthur, not even when he said your name again. 

“I’ll be out in a moment,” you responded, grabbing teacups and saucers. You hated the way your hands were shaking slightly.

Arthur didn’t respond, and you thought he left, until you felt him beside you. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the proximity of his body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and that all but confirmed your thoughts.

“So you knew?” You stepped away from him, grabbing the tea leaves, strainer, and a few sugar cubes in a small bowl. Tears welled in your eyes, his silence speaking for him. You laughed bitterly. “You didn’t think that was important to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was moonshine.”

“But you knew he was doin’ somethin’ illegal.”

Again, his silence spoke volumes. “I could care less if he was breakin’ the law. I don’t care that he’s sellin’ moonshine, or whatnot. But imagine if someone found out. I mean, y’all were able to. That would wreck my family. Any credibility gone, like that. And then what? I’m married to some old sack of shit with no income who can’t help my family and who doesn’t give a damn about me!” You really tried to keep your voice down, but you still found it rose in volume as the words spewed from you. “Those two years I sacrificed, worth nothing. So I apologize for my anger, but I don’t think any of you realize how ugly this could get.”

You barely felt the tears streaming down your face, panting as you caught your breath. There was still one question that burned in the back of your mind. Finally turning to face him, he stared at you wide eyes. “You know, you’re a damn good actor, Arthur Morgan. I guess I should’ve expected that from an outlaw. For a moment, I really thought you actually cared about me.”

That seemed to get him out of whatever shocked trance he was in. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, genuinely confused. Or at least you thought it was genuine. You couldn't trust your judgment anymore.

“Don’t lie. All this, gettin’ close to me, little touches, nearly kissin’ me. It was all a ruse, wasn’t it? Just to get the money, and once you get it, you’re gonna vanish, leaving me heartbroken and alone and stuck.”

“Darlin’,” he muttered, and you scoffed. 

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that like you… like you mean it.”

“But I do mean it. I know what this looks like, but please… please don’t think that the past weeks have been fake.” Arthur slowly moved toward you, and when you didn’t back up, he continued until he was right in front of you, just like he had been a bit ago. 

“Then what should I think, Arthur?” You whispered.

“I can’t tell you that,” Arthur admitted. “But I can tell ya what you should know. You should know that I fought ‘em both on this job. You should know that I’ll make sure that nothin’ happens to you and your family. And you should know that I truly do care ‘bout you, darlin’. More than I can put into words.”

The kettle whistled, but it was all background noise to you. You also noticed the way Dutch and Hosea had ceased their conversation, blatantly eavesdropping on the two of you. You didn’t care. All that mattered was the man in front of you. It was hard to stay upset at him though, when he was looking at you so fondly, so softly. 

“You mean it?”

Arthur smiled a bit, relieved. “I do.” You felt him bring his hands up to your face, gently brushing away the tears. “I hate seein’ you cry. And I hate that I was the reason why.” He held you for a few moments, and you felt the tears subside, your cheek only slightly damp. 

The kettle’s noise finally registered in your brain, and you gestured to it with your head. “Mind takin’ that off for me?” You croaked out, voice still recovering. 

Without another word, Arthur did as you asked, the annoying noise disappearing. You grabbed  the teacups with their saucers and set them on a tray, along with the other components needed. You walked past him with the tray in your hands, heading to the living room. You walked with the confidence of someone that wasn’t just crying, and you prayed that your eyes weren’t puffy.

“Go ahead and bring that kettle with you,” you called over your shoulder.

Setting the tray on the coffee table, you took the kettle from Arthur. Pouring out cups for each of the men, you sat once you’d finished, leaving the kettle in reach of the men. Sitting across from them, you observed them preparing their drinks, and Arthur stood around, not quite sure where to sit. Moving over, you patted the cushion next to you with a soft smile. 

With an equally soft expression, he sat next to you, and you resisted the urge to burrow yourself in his side. “Mrs. Kerrigan, thank you for inviting us into your home-”

You cut Dutch off with a light laugh. “No need to be so formal. We’re alone, ain’t we?”

“That we are,” Dutch agreed. “Should we get straight to the point, then?” You nodded. “As we said, Mr. Kerrigan runs the moonshine business in this part of the States. As you were made aware, we ain’t exactly upholders of the law, so we ain’t exactly looking to stop him. We only wish to sabotage him a bit. Attack his supplies on the road, destroy a few of his distilleries. That way, he starts looking for guns to hire. And that’s where Arthur and the rest come in. We’ll offer our services, protect his goods, and we’ll get paid.”

“Alright, that sounds like a decent enough plan, but how does this involve me?” You watched Dutch set the drink down on the tray, halfway drunk.

Hosea spoke now. “We have no idea where anything is at. We have no idea where the caravans are, where the shacks are, who he gets his supplies from. Nothing. We need you to get information for us.”

“You’ll probably have better luck doin’ it yourself, to be honest. He tells me nothin’.”

“We know that. We’re talking about physical evidence. Letters, logbooks, stuff like that.”

“That’ll probably be in his office, but I ain’t got access to that. Again, why don’t you go ahead and just break in yourself and I’ll just, I dunno, not pay attention.”

Hosea sighed. “Because the man sitting beside you would kill us if we broke into your house.”

So that’s what he meant when he said that you weren’t to be messed with. 

You still didn’t think that they needed your help, but a new thought had you grinning. “Are… are y’all askin’ for my permission to rob my house and husband by havin’ me do it myself?”

“In a backwards way, yes,” Hosea conceded, and you snorted. “Arthur did also say you might be interested in… getting back at Mr. Kerrigan, in some way.” It was Hosea’s turn to set the cup down, this one completely empty. You noticed that Arthur hadn't made a move for his own cup, which sat steaming where you’d set it. 

You had to admit, the thought was appealing, and you told them that. “It’s just, I’m afraid how this might end up affecting my family. What if he stops sendin’ my them money ‘cause he doesn’t want to lose more?” 

Dutch and Hosea looked at you, confused. That’s when you realize you said too much; the only person beside you to know what was actually going on with your family was Arthur. It did mean that he had upheld his promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone else, though, and you were grateful for that. Still, you explained to the two men your situation, withholding details you deemed they didn’t need to know. 

“I see,” Hosea shifted in his seat, giving you a sympathetic look. “We can’t promise that he won’t stop sending money, but we don’t plan on asking for a significant sum. Just enough to… help us.”

“And I want to help you, too. But you have to understand where my priorities lie. The minute he even debates ceasing his help to my family, then this is done. You stop attackin’ his supplies, his shacks, everything.  If I find out you’re continuing afterwards, then I will be involvin’ the law.”

Hosea nodded, content with your response. “So you’re willing to help us?”

I want to help Arthur. You nodded, and Dutch extended out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure doin’ business with you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”

You took his hand, shaking it. “You too, Mr. Van Der Linde.” 

You could feel Arthur’s eyes on you, unknowing that you knew what his last name was. You weren’t stupid. As soon as Arthur began to talk about the group that he associated with, it was pretty easy to link them to the Van Der Linde gang that's been headlining the newspapers Hans read. You didn’t mind the headlines; you knew this world was vicious, you had to do what you had to do to survive and protect your way of life. Maybe in another life, you’d be with them, escaping the confines of “civilized” life. 

Dutch raised a brow. “Are there gonna be issues in the future, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You knew there was a threat under the disguise of a question, and you smiled sweetly.

“As long as you keep your end of the deal, then we won’t have an issue. I promise.”

The tension dissipated from the room instantly, and Arthur visibly relaxed in your peripherals. Hosea leaned into Dutch’s ear, speaking too quietly for you to make out, and you felt him drop your hand. “Now, I believe that it’s a good time to mention that Hans will be arriving back any day now. He had eyes on him during his travels, and last we saw he was in Valentine, heading back to Rhodes.”

You expected his trip to Tumbleweed to have taken significantly longer than that, but you realized that he was most definitely not there, probably somewhere in New Hanover instead. “I appreciate that. I’ll… I’ll try to get the information to you as soon as I can, but don’t expect it when he’s home. I can’t tell you how long that’s gonna take, so be patient.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Dutch reassured, but even you could tell that he was lying through his teeth. 

“Good. Now, was there any other business we wished to discuss?” 

“Not today. Thank you for the tea, ma’am.” Hosea smiled at you, and you were surprised to find how genuine it seemed. Out of Dutch and Hosea, you liked the gray haired man more. But maybe that was all a trick, you were talking to the leaders of the most silver-tongued gang in the States. 

“It was my pleasure. Arthur, go ahead and wait down here. I’ll get that payment for you.” Without another word, you stood, collecting the tray and the different components. First dropping those off in the kitchen, you then made your way upstairs. You saw the three of them still in the living room, chatting amongst themselves as they got ready to leave. You failed to notice the way Arthur’s eyes trailed after you, Hosea and Dutch exchanging a look between each other. 

Entering your room, your hands shook as you grabbed the money. It was ten dollars this time, payment for last time and today. You would be a liar if you said you weren’t scared to do what you were about to do. You’d never done anything that even hinted on being against the law, at least now knowingly. But you’d also be lying if the thought of it didn’t excite you, doing something to get back at Hans for the two years of hell. 

The other reason your hands shook made his presence known with a light knock on your open bedroom door. Snapping your head over at him, startled, he stood in the doorway, leaning with his arms crossed. In the dim light, you could only see his silhouette, unable to make out any expression on his face. It had your heart beating, even more so when he slowly made his way into the room. 

“How long have you known?”

“That you run with the Van Der Linde gang?” You shrugged. “Since you showed me the drawings.”

Arthur just hummed. “I don’t mind, you know,” you continued. 

“You should,” Arthur countered. 

“Why?”

“Because we ain’t good men, darlin’.”

“I dunno. From what I’ve seen, y’all are better than most.” 

Arthur didn’t respond, unable to disagree with your statement. Tucking the lockbox back into its hiding spot, you met him halfway, holding out the bills for him to grab. He looked down at them, then back up at you. “You don’t gotta pay me anymore.”

Was… was he stopping his visits? Did he lie to you earlier? Dejected, you tossed the money on the bed, taking a step away from him. “So you’re not comin’ back, then?”

“I never said that. I only said you don’t gotta pay me.”

“Why?”

“You sure are askin’ that a lot tonight,” Arthur teased. “Would you believe me if I said your company is payment enough?”

“I’m sure my company is incredible,” you scoffed. “Sad married woman in the woods, nothin’ interesting’ ‘bout her besides being rich.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar, then?” Arthur challenged.

You almost wish you could. It would make things so much simpler. Instead, you found yourself shaking your head. “Why do you keep comin’ back?”

The atmosphere of the conversation shifted when you asked that question. The conversation had started out almost confrontational, but now it was shifting to something more… tender. 

“I can’t get you outta my head, darlin’. Every single thought I have is of you. Even in my dreams, you’re in them. I can’t stop comin’ back to you, it’s like I’m fuckin’ addicted to you. And just when I think I’ve got it under control, you take my breath away with one of ‘em gorgeous smiles, those soft touches, those shy glances, and I’m hooked again.”

Arthur had closed the distance between your bodies sometime during his little speech, large hands grasping your hips with surprising gentleness. One of them danced up your body, caressing your side, then over your arm, causing you to shiver. You could see him smirk, loving the way you responded. 

He eventually settled on your jaw, tilting your head back lightly. His eyes were dark, but you felt warm under his attentive gaze. Your lips parted, a small gasp leaving them. “Beautiful,” he murmured, almost awestruck, before his mouth was finally on yours. They were soft and overwhelming and they felt like home, and you felt yourself immediately melting against him. It was almost hard to believe that he was an outlaw with how gentle he was being. 

He pulled you in closer, and you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, your other hand cradling his cheek. His beard prickled the delicate skin, but it just led you to think about what that would feel like elsewhere. 

The way he kissed you was gentle, but the tightening grip on your hip and jaw was telling you he was quickly losing the battle with his restraint. Before you could push him further and lead to something more, he broke away, resting his head against yours. At least, as well as he could, his hat mostly got in the way. 

Joy unlike anything you’d ever felt bubbled inside of you, escaping you in a small laugh. You’d just kissed Arthur Morgan, the man you thought was unobtainable. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confessed, breathless.

“Me too, darlin’.”

He moved a bit, kissing your forehead, before resting his chin atop your head. One of his hands cradles your head to his chest, the other wrapping around your waist. Neither of you said anything, simply savoring the moment, and Arthur rocked you slowly. Taking a deep breath, it was mostly the scent of him that filled your senses, making your head spin even more.

He held you like that for a few moments, until you heard the voice of Dutch break the bubble the two of you had created. “Arthur! We’re leaving!” 

You felt him sigh, leaning his head back to look at you again. “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright, Arthur.” You wanted nothing more than to have him stay with you, but he had responsibilities. You couldn’t fault him for that. “Just… kiss me again?”

He chuckled, holding both sides of your face now. “Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he whispered before reconnecting your lips, a pleased sigh leaving you. Fingers curled against your head as he deepened the kiss, pulling away when he heard his name getting yelled again. 

You chuckled “Go. Before they come up here.”

With one final short kiss, Arthur pulled away, walking backwards to the doorway, eyes not leaving you for a second. “Have a good night, darlin’,” you heard him say before he went to turn, about to head downstairs.

“Wait.”

He did, almost immediately, turning his head to look at you with confusion on his face. You really weren’t quite sure what you were about to say, but you needed to say something to him. “Come back to me, alright?” It wasn’t what you really meant to say, but it would have to do for now.

“Always,” he responded with a smile, before vanishing from the doorway. You heard the sound of the stairs creaking as he headed downstairs, the voices of Hosea and Dutch audible soon after. Eventually, you heard them leave, leaving you in stunned silence. 

Another light laugh of disbelief left you, holding your fingers to where Arthur’s lips had been. Everywhere burned where he’d touched you, and your whole body felt like it was on fire. The whole meeting with Dutch and Hosea had practically vanished from your mind, the only thing playing on repeat was the way his lips felt, the way he held you, the words he uttered.

Those memories continued to repeat themselves as you got ready for bed, your thin nightgown doing little to cool you off. They caused you to lay awake in your bed, tossing and turning for what felt like hours. The heat hadn’t subsided one bit, and you groaned frustratedly, sleep coming nowhere near you. 

Getting out of bed, the cold floor felt nice against your bare feet, but it wasn’t enough. You debated grabbing a cigarette, the lighter Arthur had given you in your hands but you decided against it. For once, you didn’t want to forget the way someone’s hands were on you, and so you placed the lighter back into your nightstand.

Still, you stepped outside, the air of the night cooling your skin. Your mind still raced with thoughts of Arthur, but you were cooling down. Eventually, the air caused goosebumps to appear on your skin, and you took that as your sign to try and go back to bed.

Like you always had to, you had to pass the locked door of Hans’ office, and you finally remembered the meeting you had that night. Setting your hand on the doorknob, you debated trying to get in right then, but you realized you had no idea how. You didn’t know how to pick a lock, and breaking it down would be difficult and obvious. A problem for later, then. 

Getting back under the covers, you felt better than you had the first time you went to bed. Sleep was closer now, and as you turned on your side, about to succumb to unconsciousness, you saw the empty side of the bed. 

How you longed for Arthur to be there instead. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You didn’t wake up alone. 

It took a moment for your sleep-addled mind to realize that, nearly turning over and going right back to bed. But when it clicked, you nearly bolted out of bed, dread and sadness chasing away the happiness that came from your dreams of Arthur. 

Hans was asleep next to you, his suitcases stacked in the corner of the room, snoring lightly as he slept. You knew he had to come back eventually, but it still wrecked you. Getting out of the bed as quietly as you could, you snuck downstairs, not ready to face reality yet. 

You paced around your kitchen, running your hands through your hair. You weren’t ready to put on the act again. You weren’t ready to pretend like you were content being Mrs. Kerrigan. You weren’t ready to pretend like Arthur hadn’t just kissed you last night. 

Groaning, you slumped against one of the counters, burrowing your head in your arms. That familiar feeling of guilt returned, but you fought it. You weren’t hurting anyone, being sweet on Arthur like you were. It’s not like your husband actually loved you, so you doubt he’d be too upset. He’d be more upset that something that was ‘his’ was ‘being used’ by someone else. Besides, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

And if you were happy, who was to tell you that that was bad?

Standing up, you rolled your shoulders, forcing a smile on your face. You could do this, you told yourself. This wasn’t any different than the last two years. Just suck it up and pretend. And then before you’d know it, Hans would be gone again. 

You got to work cleaning up the kitchen from last night, washing the dishes used by the guests last night. Next, you started making breakfast, the smell of it probably being the reason Hans woke, walking downstairs blearily. 

He sat in his chair at the dining table, and you served him a glass of coffee with a soft ‘good morning’. He didn’t respond, just sipping on the steaming beverage. It was hard to not look at him in a different light, now that you knew what he was really getting up to behind closed doors. But you kept your face impassive, heading back into the kitchen before the food burned.

Eventually, you served him his food, and you sat in your respective seat, much farther than you had with Arthur. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence, assumedly too tired to do so. “Sorry for wakin’ you,” you apologized, and he grunted. 

“How was your trip?” You tried to engage him in a conversation, but were immediately shut down with a glare. All right, then. It took everything in you not to laugh at him. I mean you weren’t a morning person either, but at least you didn’t treat others like this. What an ass. 

You turned your attention back to your plate, poking at it with your fork, appetite now gone. The two of you ate in complete silence, the only sounds being your silverware against the china and the scratch of your chair against the floor as you stood to refill his cup. 

About fifteen minutes passed before Hans left the table, leaving his dishes for you to take care of. You didn’t have to look up to know where he was going, and you heard the sound of his office door shut moments later. When you confirmed that you were alone, you sighed, tired of just pushing the food around your plate. 

You found that you desperately missed Arthur’s warmth, both physically and emotionally. The house seemed to agree with you; it had never felt so comforting, him being there making it so. Now it felt like a prison, your only company the memories of the last weeks. 

You stared at the now empty seat across from you, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of breakfast, hating when you wasted food. You found that you were glad you agreed to Dutch and Hosea’s scheme; you were excited to make Hans hurt. 

But for now, you had to push those plans out the window. You couldn’t do anything right now, at the risk of you getting caught. All you could do now was play his little housewife and wait for the moment that Arthur’s lips were back on yours.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 7 ✿:+ Fork In The Road.

1-2-3-4-5-6

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: SMUT MDNI, afab reader, cock warming, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it up), Fem Dom (if you squint), VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

A/N: this was part of a much longer chapter so the next chapter should come out pretty soon too teeheehee. 

Word Count: 4437

You remembered the first night at kings landing alone. without your fathers protection, you missed, no matter how futile it might have been. 

you wanted to scream and cry “father keep me, father stay with me, father hold me” but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make a sound. you felt numb, if someone had sliced your hand open with a blade you’d not have noticed. sometimes tears would fall from your eyes straight into the ground and you’d not even noticed you were tearing up. 

that’s the hardest part of being so hard was that when you cracked it shattered more than you noticed. more than you’d be comfortable admitting even to yourself. 

when you mother and brother died your father feared you’d be turn mute for good. 

that’s what intrigued Sandor most. 

you suffered silently. you suffered with expertise. 

once he’d known your heart. your loyalty, devotion, and your fearlessness was when his fascination turned into something deeper. He thought it was obsession and maybe it was, but it was more personal than that too. Poets would call it love. He’d call it nothing. He’d never spoken of it therefore it had no language. It was just what he felt, he knew he cared that was it and that was all he’d admit. 

A day had past since your escape. You both were hungry, he especially. 

You were beginning to enjoy the freedom that came with this new way of life, however. There were downsides. The constant exposure to the elements, the lack of food, hot water, and the lingering fear. Fear of being caught, fear of what was happening now to your cousin, and what Loras would think of you leaving. 

But you had freedom, no more hand maidens pawing at you the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. You no longer had to endure the torment of the Lannister's. No longer had to marry a man you didn’t love, not really anyway. 

As you rode that day, you stopped to water the horses. As you did, a group of five men were riding down the trail behind you. You looked back at them as you heard the sound of their horses trotting. 

“Don’t look at em’” Sandor grumbled, not looking at you. You looked back to, Lika. 

You pet Lika, trying to distract yourself as you felt a pit in your stomach. A pit of dreadful anxiety. You always felt that same anxiety every time you knew something terrible was coming. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look at em’." He grumbled even lower this time as the men came closer. You looked at him and he was looking right back at you. Until his gaze went back to the water Stranger was drinking from. 

It was a large watering hole, so it wasn’t surprising to Sandor when the five men stopped there as well to water their horses. 

As soon as they did, Sandor walked closer towards you, guarding their view of you with his form. 

The group of men were a little rowdy, and they looked over to you and Sandor. 

“Hello there, friends!” A bald man shouted, and your stomach dropped. 

Sandor looked over at the man, show him that permanent scowl on his face.

“I know you, you’re the hound, Joffrey's Dog.” A man with longer hair shouted again.

“How far til Saltpans?” The hound asked ignoring the mans comment. 

“I reckon a day. Maybe another if you’re unlucky.” The bald man said. 

Sandor took the answer and left it at that. Looking away. 

“What’re you doing out there? Far from Kings Landing.” The Stout man said.

“I heard Joffrey's hound ran from the battle of the blackwater.” A tall and dark man said, he seemed angrier than the other men. 

His tone made Lika spook slightly.

“Easy.” You whispered to Lika, stroking her snout. 

“Pretty creature you got there.” the stout man said, you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about Lika, his eyes were on you.

Sandor stepped in front of the mans view of you, “You’ve got food there?” The men had sacks of what looked like food, and a lot of it. “Bring me it.” 

“You got something to trade for it?” The tall man asked

“Not a thing.” The Hound said, it made you want to roll into a ball. He was aggressively confident. 

“Now Dog, we know that ain’t true.” The tall man said tilting his head to get a better look at you. 

“Your cunt friend speaks like that again and I’ll cut out his fucking tongue.” The Hound hissed

“Oh but he’s right the crowns offering a pretty penny for you my friend.” The bald man said.

“And you think you’re the ones to collect it?” The Hound asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Five of us, one of you, and the girl.” The taller man taunted.

“Tell you what, we’ll make a deal with you. It’s been a long journey for the five of us. We don’t want the trouble. We’ll let you go even give ye’ some of our food… for a go at your pretty friend there.” The stout man tried to ‘reason’ with the group.

“Fuck you.” You said with the same ever present venom in your voice. 

The group of men began to laugh at your words, but when the Hound stepped forward with his grip on the tilt of his sword made their laughter falter. 

“Ye have any fuckin’ sense you’ll drop the food and leave.” The Hound spoke coldly.

“You don’t seem to understand the situation.” The tall man spoke. 

“I understand if any more words come pouring out any one of yer cunt mouths, I’m gon’ have to kill each one ye.” He stepped forward once more

“You gonna die for some broken in whore-” The stout man wasn’t able to finish his sentence before The Hound stormed towards them. The men caught off guard were late to draw their swords. 

The first to go was the closest to him, the bald one. Unable to draw his sword in time, the Hound cut him down, nearly in half with one blow. You’d never seen anything like it, no, you had. It was like when Gregor cut his horse in half with one blow. You could stew on that thought long before he moved on to the next man.

The tall one, who at that point was able to draw his sword. Their swords clashed together, the Hound kicked his knees in, making the man drop to the ground. That's when he plunged his sword into his chest. He huffed as he retracted it from the mans body. 

He moved forward to the next man, a man with long hair. He seemed startled by the whole scene unfolding. He threw his sword to the ground and raised his hands up quitting. Sandor rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration, he lowered his sword and punched the man so hard his neck must have snapped. 

As the man hit the ground Sandor approached the stout man who said the final words that broke him. The stout man tried to climb his horse but Sandor pulled him down to the ground. Sandor loomed over him as he began to beat him with his hands.

“Say it again!” he shouted again and again as his fist plummeted into the man’s face again and again. 

You were so entranced by this violent dance unfolding in front of you, you’d hardly realized he’d only killed three men, the fourth was under his fist now, and the fifth was… 

“Sandor!” You shouted as the fifth man jumped onto his back. The man was able to cut the Hounds cheek with his nails, deeper than one would expect. The man tried to strangle him from behind, but Sandor was too tall and too wide for the man to. Sandor got ahold of the man, as he did Sandor managed to snap his neck. 

He turned his attention back to the stout man who was still breathing.  

Sandor took out his knife and stabbed it into the mans heart, wiped the blood on the mans sleeve. 

He approached you, he was covered in blood. Huffing and puffing, he put his blade back in its sheave. He picked you up by your waist and sat you on Lika. 

“Sandor…” You mumbled as you looked down at your clothes that he inadvertently smeared blood on. 

He grumbled something that sounded something like “Sorry”, as he walked back over to the bundles of food still attached to the abandoned horses. As he untied each one, and carried all of them back to your horses, you couldn’t help but admire his strength. One man would struggle to carry just one but he could called all three without struggle.

꒰ ୨୧ ─・┈ ꒱꒱

You had washed your pants, your wool sweater, and Sandor's armor, in the water after the attack. They laid out on a near rock as they dried. You two sat beside one another in front of a warm fire. 

Sandor sloppily shoveled meat and bread into his mouth with his large brutish hands. You watched him, in awe. How he could have killed five men and less than an hour later be eating like a king. 

“Eat.” Sandor said with a mouth full of food. you shook your head, “Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe, ripping a piece of meat off and holding it up to your mouth, “I’m not that imp lord, I won’t let you starve. You can eat it or I'll make you eat it.” You pouted a little, looking from his eyes to the piece of food in his hands. You took his wrist and moved his hand closer to your mouth as you ate in as he wished, from his fingers. 

As you chewed it your face scrunched up, “It’s-” 

“Shit” He said shoveling more into his mouth.

“Hardly worth dying for.” You said as you grabbed some bread, hoping it’d be better than the meat.

“Those cunts didn’t die for the fucking food.” Sandor grumbled, 

You stopped chewing for a moment and looked at him. His words, brutal but in some indecent way romantic. He’d kill five man for simply insulting you.

You watched him eat, in... adoration? Awe? Who knows. You watched him eat, and noticed the cut on his face still bleeding.

“Your face-“ You said reaching out to touch his cut cheek, he grabbed your wrist stopping you, “Stop it.” You rolled your eyes as you commanded and he actually gave in, letting go of your wrist. You ran you hand against his cheek, he looked down, avoiding your eyes. He pushed away his food, “come here.” You spoke softly. Instead of him coming closer he pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around you.

You used your sleeve to tap the blood away from his cut. Dapping at it trying to stop the bleeding.

“I told you… no one is ever gonna hurt you again.” He whispered, looking into your eyes.

“I don’t want you hurt either.” You said still trying to stop his bleeding,

“Too late for that.” He grumbled.

You leaned in and kissed his lips incredibly gently, running your hands against the sides of his face, letting them run down to his neck.

“I don’t deserve this,” He rasped as your lips parted, 

You kissed his nose, “Too late for that.” You gently rubbed your nose against his own just before you kissed him again.

You kissed him deeper, but softly. His hands ran through your hair. He admired the length of it, the texture of it, the color of it, and the smell of it. 

You moved you leg over his lap. He kept at petting your hair, his hands traveled down to your lower back, the other to your thigh. You knew he was going to push you onto your back. So you stopped him, moving his hands to your hips. “Gentle” You whispered into his mouth. 

You began to rock your hips back and forth against his now stiffening cock. He groaned into your mouth. Your kisses still soft and gentle, but now increasingly sloppy. 

You felt his hands begin to ready himself to flip you on your back again. So once again you stopped him. “A mans meant to fuck his woman.” 

“I’m your lady?” You teased him with a subtle smirk as you kissed his jaw

“Well, youre not anyone else’s that for fuckin' sure.”

You pulled his cock out, grinding your clothed cunt against it, rocking your hips against it making his thighs flex involuntarily. He began to paw at your small clothes. 

“I’ll fucking rip these off you if you don’t take em off.” 

You grabbed him by his jaw with both your hands forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I told you to be gentle.” Your grip softened as his hands wrapped around your back. “Let me be sweet for you.” You whispered into his mouth. 

You moved your small clothes to the side and pushed his cock inside of you, slowly. You were wet, but not wet enough for it to not sting a little. 

You winced a little, “Nphm” You whined a little. 

“Thats what happens when you don’t let me-” You cut him off by kissing him again, 

Once his cock was in you, just barely brushing your cervix, you stopped moving. You just held him while you kissed him. 

He bucked his hips, hitting your cervix in a way that made you arch your back.  

“Don’t move,” You whispered in his ear, licking and nibbling on it lightly.

“The fuck are you doing-” he growled but then let out a small moan from your tongue on his ear.

“Shut up.” You said into his ear in a breathless moan as you felt yourself getting wetter. Fitting him better, molding around his now familiar shape. 

It made him growl under his breathe, gripping onto the plushness of your hips. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, woma-” You cut him off again kissing him deeply, sucking on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and he bit your lip. 

You lifted your tunic over your head, tossing it beside you. You still had on the top half of your small clothes. 

Sandor leaned down and began sucking at your breasts through the fabric, his hands caressing them gently. But his grip tightened as you let out a moan and he felt you tighten around his cock. 

He growled into your breasts, the vibration from it made you even wetter, soaking his cock and only making it easier for him to sink in deeper, pushing against your cervix. 

He then discarded his own tunic, “Take that off-” His voice rumbled, so you did. You took off the top half of your small clothes. His mouth returned to your breasts, swearing against your skin, you could feel him pulsing inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to fuck. Not be fucked, but you needed to fuck.

You rolled your hips and it made him bite down on the plush skin of your breast which made you mewl. You stopped after moving just the once, 

“You want more?” You asked petting the hair on his head

“Fuck do you think?” You grabbed him by his jaw and chin, forcing him to look at you. 

“I won’t do it if you don’t ask.” your hand trailed from his chin to his throat, squeezing it a little before dragging your nails down his chest. He bit his lip smirking a little, not letting allowing himself to ask, his pride stopping him. “No? Alright then.” 

“Please..” He said through gritted teeth, 

“What was that?” You teased him,

He grabbed your throat and pulled you to his mouth, “please…” He said again this time biting your lip.

You began to grind yourself on his cock. At this point you were so wet you did it with ease, it was all pleasure. You moaned into his mouth as he kept his grip on your throat. 

“Fuck” He cursed into your neck as he licked and nipped at the skin, “At’s it-  fuck me-” He whispered against your bruising skin. 

“Nmm- Ah! Sandor-” You moaned into his ear as you clawed at his back. 

“Taking me so-” He grunted, gritted his teeth “So fucking good!” He struggled to say without grunting. 

Your legs began to feel weaker, and weaker, shaking. Fucking was a new skill you’d obtained and this part was just as new. You knew you couldn’t keep bouncing yourself on his cock alone. But rather than admit failure, you licked his ear, and moaned into it “Sandor, mmmphm, please, I need you to fuck me,” 

Without hesitation his hands went to your ass, bouncing you on his cock. “Ah!” You moaned again and again, your breasts bounced against his chest, making you only that much wetter. You pressed your cheek against his, constantly moaning directly in his ear. It drove him mad. You could feel yourself coming undone, “I’m cuming!” You whined against his face. He turned his head slightly to kiss your cheek sloppily, 

“Good, do it, cum on my cock, Birdy.” He groaned into your ear. 

You felt your legs spasm, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing down his shoulders tight, digging your nails into his skin. You buried your face in his neck as you reached your peak, you moaned so loud, it could’ve been a scream. 

He took your face from his neck, holding it so you’d look him in the eyes, he brushed the hair from your face, “How’d that feel, Birdy?” Strangely gentle. You kissed his lips sloppily, 

“Keep going,” You panted into his mouth. To which he obeyed, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly erratic pace.

He looked down at your cunt sucking him back in, the thick ring of cream you created around his cock, the way your thighs were shaking, it was beginning to be too much for him.

His hand tangled in your hair, foreheads resting on one another, moaning into each others mouths, the way his hands made you feel safe. 

“Sandor,” You couldn’t stop the words from coming, “I love you.” You moaned breathlessly, you hoped he didn’t hear but he did, it sent him over the edge unexpectedly. 

He melted in you, you felt the heat spreading in your core.

As you laid against his chest, sweating, panting, exhausted, he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Love you..” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morning you woke in his arms. You both got dressed, and no real words were spoken.

As you readied Lika, Sandor came up behind you. 

He put a piece of bread in your hands. As you looked at it, he wrapped one hand around your waist and leaned down to smell your hair.

You just smiled to yourself, looking at the piece of bread. 

He patted your behind quickly, “Hurry up, got a long ways to go.” 

Just as you were about to mount Lika, you and Sandor heard the sounds of at least twenty horses galloping closer and closer, and the sounds of men. 

Sandor wasted no time picking you up and putting you on Lika.

“Go, take off that way and don’t stop-” He growled at you 

“I can’t leave you-“ You tried to plea with him, 

“Did it sound like a fucking question? Get the fuck out of here!” He shouted at you,

“No!” You shouted back with the same ferocity as he did. 

“Stubborn bitch.” He said under his breathe, “Take this,” It was his dagger. “That ways North, keep going til I get you or you get to the Starks.” He said,

“Sandor-” You began but he hit Lika and yelled, making her take off with you on her. You couldn’t get her to stop, all you could do was look back and watch as a group of men surrounded the man you loved. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

It was miles til Lika was calmed enough to respond to your commands. By then it was no use. No point in going back, you knew if he needed help you weren’t able to give it. 

Once you found a small creek you decided to stop let Lika drink.

As she drank, you sat there, wondering what to do. 

Who were those men? Where they Lannister men? Raiders? Should you wait for him? He said he’d come, was he trying to give you hope? Unlikely, he wouldn’t be so cruel. As you were contemplating, 

“My Lady Arryn!” It startled you, no one had referred to you as a Lady in so long, much less your house name. 

You turned to see a older but handsome knight, in pretty silver armor. He had a blue cape. And was riding on a large Brown horse. 

“Who are you?” You held out your dagger at him,

“Ser Varys Cole of the Vale, my Lady. I didn’t recognize you in those clothes, but how could any knight forget such a vision once he’s seen it.” 

“Ser Cole? You served my father.”

“Indeed I did, My Lady.” You eyes still watched him like a… well a falcon, “So perhaps given the circumstances, you could lower your weapon?” He said with a smile,

So you did, trying to play the cards in your hand. “Ser Cole, I require your assistance, I need to find Robb Stark.” 

He looked down regretfully, “My Lady, I am afraid I cannot assist you with such a task.” 

“Why not?” You pressed, 

“I am under the order of Lord Baelish to bring you to him directly.” 

“The Vale is under the direct protection and order of the Arryns as it has been for generations, and you take your order from Baelish, not I?”  You asked with furrowed brows and beady eyes,

“I am afraid so my lady.” 

You looked at him with disgust, you walked back towards Lika. “Leave me then, I shall find my own way.” 

“I am afraid I cannot allow that, my Lady.” He said, you looked back at him with a harsh gaze.

“You can, leave me. Just go and I won’t speak a word of it.” 

“My Lady, your father would want me to see you to safety.” 

“You believe safety is with Little Finger?” You questioned him like he were a child. 

“It’s not out here.” He said looking around, you hoped Sandor would ride up and cut him down. “My Lady if you do not come willing I have orders to take you ropes. I’d prefer you untied. So would your father.” It only angered you more that he mentioned your father so much. 

You wanted your dog.

“I will not go to Kings Landing.” You said sternly, gripping on to your dagger. 

“No my lady, I’ve been instructed to take you to the Eyrie.” He said as if it were an improvement. 

You held the dagger in your hand. your thumb brushing the handle of the blade. You contemplated it. You could kill him. maybe. steal his armor, his sword. Travel north until you got to Winterfell. But that’s all to say you could take the armored man in combat, and that no one else along your journey would try to kill you either. 

“How far?” You asked, hoping he’d say two days journey. So you could run at night. 

“Lord Baelish is occupying an Inn near by. He had a feeling you’d be around this area.” He was lucky you got separated from Sandor in that case.

He got off his horse and walked towards you, “You can go on your horse, My Lady. Or you can go in ropes.” 

“Ropes.” You said, you pulled your dagger our and stabbed him in his leg, but he grabbed your wrist before you could remove it. 

He gritted his teeth, “That was not necessary, my Lady.”

He pinned you on your back and tied your hands together. Placed you on your horse, then tied your horse to his own. All the while limping. 

“Forgive me, My Lady.” 

He said as he rode on, you prayed to all the Gods, old and new, for Sandor to be around a tree. For him to come up the rode, for him to kill this man, for him to untie you, and be in his arms again. 

But no.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you arrived at the Inn, Ser Cole carried you off your horse. You wanted to kill him for even touching you. He placed you on the ground and guided you to Little Fingers chambers. 

“What is this? Untie the girl!” Petyr ordered,

“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Cole did as he asked. 

“Leave us,”

“Yes, My Lord.” 

Ser Cole left the room.

You rubbed your wrists and stared daggers at Baelish, you wanted to kill him right then. 

But the knight outside the door would have killed you too, you’d have to wait til you had your dog.

“A sight for weary eyes, my lady. Even in rags.” He said with a twisted grin. 

“Don’t take me back there, to Kings Landing.” You asked, but it sounded more like a command.

“If you wished to escape why wouldn’t you have asked me, you know I would have done anything-” 

“You had ample time to help me and chose not to.” You interrupted him,

“You and Lord Tyrion seemed contented.”

“And you seemed contented to watch.” 

“I know he has been positively bereft in your absence.” You felt your stomach drop. You’d wondered on him, for a moment, but you assumed he’d be fine.

“Lord Tyrion is a decent man,” You said with concern in your voice.

“Then why not marry him?”

“Because I am not a decent woman.” You blurted out with venom,  “I rather you kill me then go back there.” You threatened. 

“I’d never do such a thing,” He ran his finers against the skin of your forearm. Sandor would have cut his fingers off for it, you thought. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I asked your father for your hand, did you know this?”

You swallowed, “I did.” 

“Do you know why I did?” You felt sick, a pit in your stomach, that same pit of dread.

“You want the Vale-”

“I wanted you.” He said as he leaned in and kissed your lips. Your lips did not move and your eyes stayed open. Sandor would have cut his throat for that, you thought. 

As he pulled away you pressed your lips together and looked down. 

“You aren’t taking me to Kings Landing are you?” You whispered. 

“No, no my lady I am not.”

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens, sorry if you had to wait a little for this one. It is a longer chapter so I hope it satisfies you or a lil.  Also I know, I know, the ending is a bit of a bummer, reading angst is never as fun as writing it but distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.  I also gave you sub Sandor so like…. You're actually so welcome. 

Beloved Tags: 

@dontfollowjuststuff

@helpmeescapethisreality

@merfic

@broadsdrinkwhisky

@the-queen-of-sorrows

@eddiesbongwater

@not-neverland06

#sandor clegane x reader #Sandor clegane #got x princess reader #sandor x reader #sandor the hound clegane #game of thrones x reader #sandor clegane #got x reader #got hc #game of thrones #the hound #got #sandor headcanon #sandor #sandor clegane fanfic #the hound fanfic #sandor fluff #sandor fanfic #sandor clegane smut #sandor clegane fic #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fluff #sandor fic #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #sandor clegane angst #sandor angst #sandor smut #game of thrones smut #smut

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 27 - ‘You’re Mine’

“You want to come inside with me, baby? Because I’m really thinking you should.” Trent whispered greedily into your ear as your hands worked over his body. At this point you were practically grinding your body on him, his hands were all over you. Your innocent lay at a hang out with your friends in the back garden was starting to heat up. Unbeknownst to you the two girls Marcel had invited had been listening to your whole conversation start to finish, watching the interaction, since you strutted over from the pool to Trent currently kneading your ass with his big hands. The girls were over in an outdoor bar area close by and really there’s no better word to describe what they were doing other than fangirling over the pair of you. Since your ‘expose’ girls alike that followed or knew of Trent seemed to have a small obsession over you. The fact that the girls ended up in your back garden watching you first hand was just surreal to them.

“I’m actually obsessed with them, I’m shook we are here right now…” one girl quietly squealed to the other squeezing her arm trying to be nonchalant. To their benefit, in moments like this, you and Trent were in your own world. You had no concept that anyone else even existed. “He’s so fucking hot, I would do anything for him.” She continued whining and dreaming his hands were on her instead. Marcel had invited the two girls although one he knew better than the other. The lesser known clearly was a little more infatuated with Trent then he’d care for.

“I still can’t decide who I want to be in the relationship, to be fair.” The other confessed giggling as they tried to listen closer to your conversation watching Trent’s hands massage your bikini clad body while you kissed his bare chest. Hearing you talk about your lives had the girls torn between if seeing and listening to you on top of Trent was making them horny or if the whole thing was incredibly sappy and endearing, breaking their hearts wishing they had that type of love. The one Marcel knew better was leaning towards envy. When he eventually walked over to the girls to ask what they were up to they wouldn’t divert their attention away and just yessed his question, he followed their line of sight to see that they were gawking at you. He rolled his eyes unamused but not particularly surprised either. Whenever you and Trent hosted parties or hang outs you always allowed him to invite whoever he wanted, you trusted him and his friends but it wasn’t all that uncommon if he didn’t know them as well for them to be a little more than excited to be at a particular Alexander-Arnold’s home. He disregarded the ogling and wrapped his arms around the two girls before grabbing another drink for the three of them. As time passed you eventually peeled yourself off of Trent with the intention of meeting him back inside per his cheeky request. You scurried over to the bar area where they were first in hope of finding your currently missing phone.

“Marccce! I haven’t seen you all night where have you been?” You cooed, squeezing his shoulder, waking by him, eyes scanning the counters for your phone. You could’ve left it out but lately it started to make you more self conscious about what people could do with it so you began to search before your rendezvous with Trent inside.

“Been busy avoiding you.” He laughed a little, coming to give you a hug from behind while you still sought your phone out. You shook him off feigning annoyance. The two girls watched the interaction with eyes wide deducing the close relationship you two shared.

“Just rude all the time… I hope you’re at least being nicer to your guests.” You laughed back at him taking your first glance at the two younger girls standing beside him. One in a tiny bikini the other in a little cover up. Cute, you thought. “Have you seen my phone?” You asked him sliding your hand along the bar in hopes you’d miraculously graze over it.

“Nah, sorry… but by the way Y/N this is…” Marcel went on to introduce you to the two girls who were there now looking at you as if you were a celebrity. Both their faces nearly dropped, jaws slacked staring at you before their faces turned to show big gleaming smiles.

“I literally follow you on insta I’m so obsessed with you and Trent. You two are literal goals. You're both so hot… it’s insane.” One girl eagerly blurted out. Marcel looked less than impressed but he just ignored her. Your eyes widened as well surprised by the straightforward compliment. You weren’t sure you’d even call it a compliment but nevertheless. It was a little bold but fine, you were flattered. The other girl that stood slightly closer to Marcel spoke a little quieter, thanking you for having her at your home. It was clear fairly quickly that these two girls had very different personalities. One brave and outgoing, the over more timid and sheepish.

“Really… she and, most definitely, Trent are not that great. Don’t be too excited.” Marcel quipped with a laugh wrapping his arm around the more shy girl pulling her closer to him. Internally you furrowed your brow trying to deduce the situation between the three. You tried to recall his comments at dinner but were lacking so you attempted to try and read their body language for clues.

“Oh wow well that’s nice of you… all you.” You winked at Marcel. You were genuinely referring to the one girl's appreciation for your hospitality and sarcastically to Marcel all at the same time. You finally spotted your phone and grabbed it off the counter and squeezed Marcel’s arm glancing at the girls “Nice meeting you both! Hope you have a fun night! If you need anything just ask me! Marce isn’t exactly the most helpful.” You said as your voice tailed off walking away from them. You made your way through your back garden before you spotted George and beelined over to him. He started to shake his head as you came over.

“He’s inside already…” George spoke to you before you even got within arms distance. You gave him a big smile and swirled on your heel to turn around. You skipped towards the house in your little bikini excitedly. You slid open the big glass door and stepped into the warmly lit house. It was relatively quiet inside compared to the blasting music outside. You walked into the kitchen and looked around only for no Trent to be seen.

“T…” you cooed quietly as you skirted down the hallway slow peaking your head into every room. There was no response. You continued down the hall in your search. You peeked into the pantry, you looked into the laundry room, then you started to feel a little discouraged with your luck. That feeling began to disappear quickly though when you opened the door to a study, it was kind of like an office that neither of you really ever used but there leaned back on the desk was a very, very pretty Liverpudlian boy. The two of you definitely were going to put the room to use now.

“Took you long enough.” Trent cooed, coming to stand up straighter taking a step towards you with a big smile.

“Well, why did you have to go so far away!” You giggled stepping into his embrace as he spun you around, his hands dropping around your waist. Your hands coming to wrap around his neck as your nails scratched gently on his skin.

“Because, baby, I want you to be loud for me.” He whispered pulling you into a hot kiss. You felt your body shiver at his words, the warmth of his breath so close to your skin. You moaned as his hands slid down to grip your ass. He slapped it harshly as he slid his tongue in your mouth when you gasped. He picked you up from under your ass and placed you on the desk gently but forcefully. He stood between your legs spreading them apart with his looking down at you. His hands were just everywhere on you in an instant. He teased your nipples through your bikini, then suddenly your top hit the floor, your tits spilling out into the cold air. He was so nimble you couldn’t focus and he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Look so fucking beautiful like this.” He moaned as he rolled your hard nipples between two of his fingers. Swiftly he let go and grabbed your chin with his hand. “Gonna be a good girl f’me?” He cooed with a sinister smile. You just nodded, returning a similar grin. His hand slid down your front into your bikini bottoms.

“I’m so wet already, T…” you whined as you felt his fingers run through your folds. He gathered your slick before he began rubbing soft circles on your clit. Your whole body trembled in shock at how quick and rough he moved. You were desperate for him already.

“You’re horny baby aren’t you?” He asked pulling you a little closer to the edge of the desk towards himself as his fingers worked meticulously. “You’re fucking soaked, hmm? You’re so good f’me aren’t you, baby?” He whispered closer to you as his lips started to kiss on your neck leaving behind bite marks. He groaned when your hand slipped to palm his cock. You both were grinding into each other's hands. You nodded eagerly at him with a pout.

“I need you, T. Please, baby. I want your cock.” You moaned out when his fingers slipped inside you and began to work in and out of you at an inhumane pace.

“Nah, nah, nah baby. I want to hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear you make a mess all over my fingers first.” He cooed as he found a perfect rhythm. It was fast and hard. You were so close to your climax. You clawed at his back needing to feel him as you collapsed your head onto his shoulder, your mouth sucking ferociously on his neck, no doubt leaving behind a trail of evidence from your lips.

"Please let me cum, T, I need to cum" you cried with no shame, you needed to release. You couldn’t handle his teasing. The knot in your stomach was about to snap. You couldn’t maintain any composure if you wanted to.

"Cum all over my fingers" Trent said assertively coming to kiss your mouth as his fingers continued to plunge into your throbbing pussy, his thumb circling your clit. He continued at the fast pace leaving no time for you to tell him your high was about to crash over you. You moaned his name as you came before Trent’s hand slowed pulling out. His drenched hand slid up to push into your mouth. You desperately sucked around his fingers moaning. “Good girl. Tell me you’re a good girl.” He cooed watching you suck and shudder, your chest heaving.

“Fffuck.. fuck, T. Jesus.” You breathed so heavily. “I’m your good girl. I’m yours baby.” You felt hazy as Trent began to pump his cock with his other hand. He was so achingly hard for you. He squeezed his base as he dragged his leaking tip against you.He looked down at you with a devious smile. You nodded enthusiastically, “Please, baby.” You whined, begging. You bucked your hips before Trent grabbed them pulling you into him as he slid his thick cock inside you. You both let out pornographic noises feeling the other. He felt fucking perfect.

“You're so fucking perfect. You take my cock so well, baby.” He murmured as he sucked on your neck. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into you. You purred as he started to fuck into your pussy faster. He brought his hand down to massage your already sensitive clit. “Fuck baby. Needed you all night. Think you needed me to. Listen to how wet you are?” He groaned at the sound of your soaked pussy squelching as he rammed in and out.

“Uh huh, fuck T. You’re so big. Oh my god.” He lifted your leg over his shoulder, hitting a deeper spot that he knew would send you into a frenzy. Your body was jerking into his as he hit that spot over and over and over. You babbled, unable to focus on anything other than how massive he felt at this angle, hell, how massive he felt all the time. “l love you, baby.” You practically started crying as you hooked your arms around his neck.

“Watch, baby.” He pulled his body off yours some. He groaned, looking down at the sight he wanted you to see. “Watch it go in.” The view of his cock perfectly sliding in and out of you covered in slick had you practically orgasm instantaneously. He was obsessed with the way you’d arch your back in pleasure beneath him. His hand sliding around your body to hold the small of your back as he continued to fuck you. You moaned uncontrollably as hips stuttered when you clenched tighter around him. “Fuck, gonna fill you up, baby. You gonna cum for me again, beautiful?” You couldn’t answer the question too lost in the feeling before he let your leg drop, wrapping it around his waist as he laid his heavy weight onto you.

“Tell me you love me, T.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks as his hip movements slowed and a smug grin came over his face. He rocked into you softer before his fingers came and began to rub your clit in tight, fast circles again. He relished in getting you into a state like this,

“I fucking love you Y/N, I fucking love you baby.” He said punctuated by thrusts. Your arms gripped him tighter. “Hold onto me, just like that. Take my cock just like that.” You were dripping down your legs and all over him at this point. And with that realization, just like that, your walls pulsated around him creating an even stickier mess “Cum on my cock, baby. Just let go for me” he whispered almost out of breath as you tried to wrap your legs tighter around him. You nodded as you high crashed over you, fucking you deeper than before. You came and he didn’t let up, your thighs twitching with overstimulation. “Doing so good f’me. Almost there.” He cooed, gripping your waist harshly. His hands were bound to leave bruises, your nails dragged down his back.

“Fuck, fuck!” you moaned, digging your manicured nails into his skin further. “Please, T. Please, fill me up! I need it, I need your cum in me!” You whined when his hand let go of you and move to grab onto some of your hair. He pulled it and you back harshly so he had full access to your bare chest and neck. He dragged his lips from you collar bone up your throat. He pushed into you deeper one last time before painting your insides white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned. Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled into you.

“Jesus, baby… fuck, that was so good. You feel so good.” He fumbled his words as he let out contrived breaths holding you to him. You stayed close to him, your sticky bodies stuck together as you whispered ‘I love yous’ into his ear, your hand lightly raking up his spine after his movements halted. You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist. You probably should have gone and showered after that but instead you cleaned yourselves up slowly and returned outside with smug smiling faces. You held his hand walking back out and you gazed up mesmerized by that million-dollar smirk plastered onto his unfairly pretty face. You think you fell in love a little more in that moment as the moon and fairy lights cast over him. He gave you a cheeky wink before diving back into a conversation with friends casually like nothing just happened inside. You could only stand there with a child like grin clung to him, internally still recovering from your earth shattering orgasms.

The night started to fade closer into morning when the last person you didn’t really know all that well finally got an Uber and left so you felt like you could relax. It was a really fun rest of the night but now things had returned to normal. George was slumped on your couch watching TV with Trent and two other boys, where they were meant to be. Tyler being his usual helpful self was with you picking up a few things outside. You made your way back inside and saw your pretty boy still shirtless sitting on the couch. You beamed seeing him look so comfortable and so goddamn handsome. Tyler hopped over the back of the couch to sit near George but you opted to be slightly more graceful and walk around the room to them. You circled the couch and stood in front of Trent blocking his view, still dressed in your tiny bikini and a sly grin. He looked up at you with amusement. He definitely wasn’t complaining about your scantily clad body in the way of whatever was on the tv, he couldn’t even remember what it was once you were there.

“Yes?” He laughed some at you reaching his hand out to try to wrap his hands around your waist. You stepped back sucking your teeth. He looked back a little surprised and a furrowed brow that you weren’t letting him touch you.

“Youuuu are coming with me.” You sang, switching your facial expression to a big grin. You grabbed his hand and pulled him up out of his seat. He stood up and allowed you to drag him across and out of the living room. Everyone else in the room whistled and ‘OOooOoooOo’ teasing and just being the usual and general pain in the asses they were making fun knowing exactly what you wanted Trent upstairs in your bedroom for. Trent shook his head with a smile feigning annoyance at his friends and brother’s razzing him.

“Night lads!” Trent said, waving his hand over his head refusing to turn around to look back at them. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him for you to lean your head onto his shoulder.

“Wrap before you tap please!” Tyler yelled jokingly or probably seriously while the rest of the boy’s cacophony of laughter echoed in the big room. Trent leaned over to you to whisper in your ear.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ hushly in your ear. You slapped your hand at his chest lightly and jokingly. “Oh I’m sorry, pretty girl, have you suddenly changed your opinion on creating what’s going to be arguably the most perfect baby ever? Or hmm… I don’t know the past two years of unprotected sex? Which one is it, baby?” He started to giggle, poking fun at you.

“Oh shut up, T!” You squealed, breaking out of his embrace and running up the stairs. You ran into your bedroom and had never gotten ready for sleep faster, makeup off, face washed, teeth brushed, hair care done, and well… you decided it would be best to wear a skimpy black Fleur du Mal lace bodysuit you’d been saving and tuck yourself immediately under the covers. Trent made his way to the bathroom after you and by the time he came out you had changed and tucked into bed to be a little surprise for him to ultimately unwrap. When he walked over to the bed he was a little suspicious seeing how smug your face was laying waiting for him. He peeled back the blankets to get in and his jaw dropped.

“Baby… baby… baby… what am I going to do with a girl like you, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten into this bed without getting rock hard. What are you doing to me?” He groaned, shaking his head. He ripped the blankets back more to get a full view of you. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered. He climbed over you and hovered before he started kissing every inch of you, every single inch. He kissed over your whole body. Slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. He left behind little signs of him, shiny spots caused by his warm spit. “You are the most beautiful women in the world, Y/N. I don’t understand how I got so lucky.” You giggled and pulled him up for a big wet messy kiss. He rolled you over on top of him and he wiggled some to sit back against the headboard. You straddled him before he asked you to sit back some. He leaned you back holding onto your waist. “Just let me look at you.” He groaned at the view. You sank down further on him letting him feel your lace covered core over his leg. His hands were all over you, yours all over him. Your lips came crashing together but moved slow and sensually. You nibbled on his plump perfect lips. He moaned into your mouth, while you slipped your tongue in. Heavily breathing in between every kiss. You leaned away for a moment with a big smile. Trent and your eyes still closed, mouths still parted, dying for more, a string of saliva connecting you two but giggles took over you. “Let me keep kissing you, baby.” He begged not wanting to stop.

“I like kissing you, baby but I wanna look at you. Makes me excited seeing you under me.” You giggled in a lighthearted moment giddy and a little buzzed to see his beautiful face beneath you, his perfect lips flushed and swollen. The room had gotten hotter, your core was aching. Your wet pussy was grinding slow on his strong thigh at this point.

“I know, pretty girl and I can feel how excited you are on my leg right now so just let me make you feel good.” He said getting restless as his hand started to slide to reach between your covered folds. You squirmed away a little. Suddenly your body and your mind were not in sync. You wanted to fuck him. There’s no doubt about wanting to fuck him but you were paralyzed for a second feeling self consciousness wash over you about the rise of media attention on you. You shook your head ‘no’ with a guilty but silly grin. He returned a smug smile gesturing to the wet spot of your slick that was now beneath you on him.

“Stop! I can’t help it! Look at you!” You gestured at his body.

“Baby. I fucking think about you, and this…” he then gestured to your body mimicking your movement, “and this pussy probably 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.” He laughed a little.

“T! Hey! That’s mean, I’m cute and funny… and I don’t know have other attributes… other things too...” You actually weren’t offended, you loved to know that he found you that attractive but it was fun to tease.

“Baby, I know. You’re so amazing and so amazing at so many things. You just also happen to be incredibly attractive and very very good in bed so I’m sorry but I’m not not going to think about all of it if I’m the lucky lad that gets to have you in my bed for the rest of my life.” You smiled softly because even though it sounded image based, it really wasn’t. It was really adorable and just made you feel amazing to hear. You felt so special he thought you were beautiful but it plagued you thinking of the headlines that’d been popping up as of late.

“Baby…” you cooed and he hummed eager to have you. “Erm… can I ask you something?” You spoke quietier as Trent’s eyes were glued to your body. “T…” you paused picking his chin up with your hand to look at your face and not your tits. “Do you care what everyone thinks about me?” You sheepishly asked.

“What? What do you mean? I would never care.” He said, his words were fast and rushed. You didn’t feel very good about them. Your idea to be extra sexy tonight had kind of backfired on you. You now felt like nothing like that. You had gotten more self conscious somehow. You sighed and rolled off him.

“Nah, nah, nah, beautiful. Alright, what’s going on here?” I don’t like when you’re upset ever and definitely not if you’re in something like this. Did I do something?” He pulled at the strap of your lingerie with a little pout. Trent hated when your face dropped. When the light and warmth behind your eyes faltered. He preferred to be the one to make everything a little brighter in your life and he was determined to fix it when it faded.

“No, of course not. It’s never you, baby. I just mean…” you sighed. “Just like all the articles about me, my life, my intentions, I don’t know.” You whispered shyly. He pulled you close to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. He giggled and you weren’t sure why so you pulled away some to look up and see his face. Your eyes fixed on the most gorgeous smile in the world.

“Baby, no. I know you, they don’t. Hmm?” He cooed, coming to press a kiss to your lips now. “I love you. I love you and know you by your words and your actions. I love you not because of what someone types up and what someone typed up would never change that, sweet girl.” He spoke softly and he looked at you with more love than you've ever seen in your life. The ways his eyes filled with warmth had your heart faltering. You weren’t sure you knew what air even was anymore until he breathed life back into you with a kiss. You started to giggle giddy that the man whose arms you were in, whose bed you shared, whose home you had made with, whose life you wanted to spend the rest of yours with, loved you.

“Okay.” You managed to get out through your massive beaming smile. “You can go to sleep now” you continued giggling pulling him into the tightest hug you’d ever given someone. Squishing your cheek against his bare skin. You just about squished that boy to death. He grunted under your grip.

“Thank you for your permission but you’re insane if you think I’m letting you go to sleep next to me in this.” He looked down at your perfectly sat boobs pressed up against him. He pulled you in for a big kiss. A messy makeout ensued. You fell asleep a few rounds and orgasms later on Trent’s chest dreaming that maybe this time or sometime soon it would result in having a baby. Trent watched you as your eyes gently closed, your lips in a perfect pout, the lingerie tossed on the floor. You clung to him safe and happy. He adored you just like this.

You woke up the next morning alone in bed. You pulled Trent’s pillow over to you and pouted like a little kid. His scent made you calm but you missed him. You forget he had told you he was doing an early workout today but even when you did remember you still kept your pout missing and wishing he was cuddled up with you this morning. You got your morning started and headed downstairs in a t-shirt of his. You slowly walked to the kitchen, eyes half closed. You walked past the stairs going to the basement where Trent was in the gym. You could hear the vibrations of the speakers; it made you smile imagining him working out. God, he was hot, just even thinking of him had you almost drooling. The kitchen was scattered with cups which bothered you, you knew the boys who stayed up after you had gone to bed had remade a mess you had already cleaned up last night. Moments like this made you think of university sometimes like just a bunch of friends were living together except the thought burst the feeling of nostalgia when they all left you in a mess like right now. At the end of the day this was your home, not some university apartment. Your home with beautiful furniture and now subsequently ubiquitous icky boys. You loved them but ugh… so you cleaned before you started to make a coffee and preemptively the protein shake Trent would come up and want.

“Erm… hi, I’m sorry.” You heard a meek voice round the corner into the kitchen. You practically jumped it scared you despite her being incredibly soft spoken.

“Oh shit!” You laughed as you pressed your hand over your now very fast beating heart. “Sorry, sorry hi! Morning!” You said with a cheery smile looking at one of the girls Marcel had invited over who seemingly had spent the night.

“I’m so sorry!” The quieter of the two girls giggled too. “I don’t mean to bother you but I’m so hungover do you think I could get a water?” she asked shyly. You handed her a water immediately. She seemed so introverted you almost felt bad asking but you couldn’t not get some information out of her initially with the incentive to tease Marcel.

“It’s Gracie, right?” You looked at her standing awkwardly in a shirt of his. She nodded her head with a timid smile. “Did you have a good night?” She kept her voice low and told you she did but something told you that it maybe wasn’t the whole truth. As you said her name and looked at her standing in your kitchen something pinged in your head. Her name, her face, you started to remember a lunch you had with Marcel one time where you think he had mentioned this girl. You asked if she wanted to sit with you in a little area off the kitchen and she said she would so you started to prod her with questions more intrigued by her and not so much the intent of teasing him anymore.

“So how do you know Marce?” You asked sweetly with a smile. She stirred in her seat taking a sip of water first before a familiar Liverpool accent began to accentuate words.

“I grew up with them.” She giggled. “We all went to school together for a little. We were really close and then I guess… drifted, I don’t know.” She shrugged and looked out the window.

“I get it, I feel it’s just like that when you’re close with boys growing up.” You tried to make her feel better but didn’t really know her situation and it felt like there was more to this story. You were praying it stayed connected to Marcel only and didn’t involve Trent. You didn’t think the current headache you had from last night could handle something like that right now.

“Yeah, well once I got tits things kind of shifted so I’m around a lot more now…” you were relieved when she laughed after making the comment. Marcel was really sweet deep down so you were continuing in prayer hoping he didn’t do anything mean to this girl.

“So you guys…” you paused waiting to let her fill in the blank for you.

“Oh well yeah, I mean we have. We do. I don’t know, we’re close friends but..” The thought of Lauren came ringing in your mind and you felt a little guilty but Gracie assured you her relationship with Marcel was a pretty relaxed one so it subsided. “Anyways I came last night because I wanted to see him but he also invited my friend so I figured whatever” she shrugged again. “I just wanted to be with him and if that meant she’d be in the bed too I guess that’s just how my night was going to go.” She giggled some more. For someone who had such a shy demeanor she clearly was down to mess around and you kind of loved it.

“I get it. I don’t blame you.” You held your hands up in innocence and giggled with her before reaching out to squeeze her arm to reassure her.

“It wasn’t pre planned or anything!” She tried to unnecessarily defend herself for the threesome she was explaining she had last night.

“Do you, Gracie, I’m here for it” you couldn’t not laugh. “If you do like him though you should tell him. You know… maybe so it can just be the two of you next time. He really is sweet, probably go better than you’d think” She gave you an ‘I know’ look and you both giggled before being interrupted by the sound of feet running up a staircase.

Trent came up from the gym. He looked as you would expect, absolutely jaw dropping. The sweat still rolling down his chest and abs. His shorts hung low showing a deep v. You sat facing the back garden when he snuck up behind you. He wrapped his arms around you tight pressing his sweaty body to your currently dry one.

“Ew, T!” You squealed as he pressed a fat wet kiss to your cheek. Gracie sat there and smiled at his sweet affection before you peeled a clingy, perspiring Trent off you.

“You alright?” Trent cooed looking at Gracie. You could tell he recognized her but wasn’t totally sure so he didn’t really say much else. She told him she was all good, nodding. He then leaned his head on your shoulder. “Can I get you some breakfast, pretty girl?” You smiled and shook your head ‘no.’ “Can I get you to come take a shower with me maybe then?” You giggled at his follow up as he squeezed your waist.

“Yes to the shower, no to the breakfast, baby but I did already make yours though.” You looked up at him with doe eyes. He smiled mouthing a thank you and walked to the kitchen to go get the protein shake you had made.

“Is he always like that?” Gracie watched Trent’s muscular back round the corner to go get his breakfast.

“Like what?” You giggled watching the same sight completely enamored with the boy.

“That. The whole making breakfast, offering you to go shower with him, the kisses.” She said, “I don’t know, perfect?” You smiled widely thinking of a few things she was missing from her list of what made him so great but you agreed, he was perfect.

“Yeah, T’s always like that, I guess. He just is…” you paused and smiled and watched him walk back into the room and sit next to you. “He’s just T.” You smiled at him before kissing his cheek. Gracie rolled her lips. She was starting to realize that what she had was not what she was looking for. She wanted someone to be just themselves. A version of themselves that was perfect just for her.

You woke up the next day and you couldn’t not think about Gracie and Marcel. It was playing on your mind on repeat trying to put together all the facts as Trent cuddled closer to you. He snuggled on top of you laying across your stomach. He wrapped his arms around your waist nuzzling his face onto your soft skin. Sadly for you, preseason was fast approaching. It was making you sick… as a matter of fact everything was making you feel sick this second. As Trent muffled ‘I love yous’ into your skin you started to feel queasy.

“T… can you like loosen your grip.” You said with a serious tone. He only squeezed tighter thinking you were kidding. “Trent, serious. I feel really sick.” You peeled his arms off you and sat up against the headboard. He sat up with you and looked at you with furrowed brows concerned.

“Baby…” he cooed quiet. You didn’t respond, dropping your head. He just stared at you trying to analyze what was wrong. You were normally so affectionate even if you were sick. Abruptly you sprung from the bed and ran to the bathroom. “Shit!” He yelped as he followed you hearing your body slap to the cold marble floors before you started to throw up. He came to your side, gathering your hair, holding it back, stroking your back up and down your spine slow. “You’re okay, beautiful. It’s okay, you’re okay.” He hushed you softly. You started balling crying as you sat up wiping your mouth leaning against the wall.

“T…” you whined crying. He tried to ask you what was wrong but the tears just kept falling. You couldn’t get any words out and to be fair you had no idea what was wrong.

“Okay, okay. C’mere. It’s gonna be okay.” He pulled you into him. You collapsed in his arms and his embrace as he stroked your head kissing it softly. “Love you so much, gonna be just fine.” He tried to assure you but something felt incredibly off. You laid around the house the rest of the day doing nothing curled in a ball on the couch. Despite his best efforts, not even Trent’s bribes for food, the dogs, shopping, cuddles would get you to move. When it approached day two of you being immobile he had passed a level of worry he was comfortable with. Trent was always protective of you but this had gone too far. “Sweet girl, I’m calling someone, something is not right.” He whispered, rubbing your arm. You shook your head unhappy with the suggestion.

“No, please baby I’m fine. I’m just…” you couldn’t finish the sentence because in fact you didn’t understand what was happening. It wasn't until a random advert flashed across the tv featuring a pregnant mother. All the color just about drained from your face. Trent watched it empty out of your full cheeks. He furrowed his brow with eyes fixed on you and turned to the tv to see what could’ve caused it but the advert had changed by that point. At that moment you stopped fighting and you let him call a doctor. Later that day a doctor made a house call and sat next to you on the couch. You cuddled into Trent scared of a possibility he was unaware you were even thinking of.

“I have to ask… are you currently using any method of contraception?” The words hit Trent like a freight train. You felt him wince. You started to cry.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that. Nothing to be upset over.” Trent whispered to you before explaining your situation to the doctor. He brushed his knuckle over your cheek. Suddenly you felt like you were 15 and having sex was somehow wrong or taboo. You discussed at length with the doctor symptoms and possibilities before they asked to do some blood tests. It wasn’t something you wanted to do but you had to. They took the vials and sent them out with a nurse. The turn around would be a few hours and said they would give you a call. Trent walked the doctor out. The front door closed and you started crying all over again. Trent came back with the dogs jumping on top of you. The affection should’ve made you smile but it didn’t. They really tried their hardest to make you feel better but it wasn’t working.

“Baby…” Trent cooed, almost silent. “I thought you wanted this?” He asked you, reflecting on what the doctor had said and the possibility of being pregnant, completely terrified you’d had a change of heart. You just kept crying as you grabbed his waist holding onto him.

“I do, I do.” You sniffled out. “I’m just scared.” You said between tears. He hushed you before finding something on the tv to watch in an attempt to distract you. You nestled under the blankets and he held you tight as you waited.

“Okay, thank you. Yeah, we’ll be in touch if that happens. Thank you again.” You overheard Trent hang up the phone as he paced in the hallway outside your living room. He walked back in and your stomach dropped. He gave you the type of soft smile you knew wasn’t good. You had shut your eyes in pain trying to think of anything else but at the moment you couldn’t possibly think of anything but the baby you knew wasn’t in your stomach.

“They said it was just premenstrual symptoms, an effect you’re having coming off birth control. It’s going to be okay, baby.” His tone just about shattered your heart. You could feel his sadness and disappointment fill the room. You curled further under the blankets and tried to cover your face with them to muffle the gasps. Your eyes started to well. You cried uncontrollably. If you weren’t so lost in your emotions you’d probably have noticed that Trent had looked pretty close to tears but he would’ve never cried in front of you right now, not now, not like this. Trent jogged over to the couch and swiftly grabbed you holding you tight to him. He hushed you trying to wipe your tears at the pace at which they were falling. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. Shhhh. It’s okay. I love you.” He whispered as your body shook. You felt like you couldn’t swallow, like you couldn’t breathe, like you couldn’t still your heart as it thumped against your chest. It felt like the whole room was collapsing and yet he held you so calmly and securely.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” You quivered out squeezing your eyes tighter. You felt like you disappointed him, like you had somehow messed up. Your whole body felt tired and deadened. You two hadn’t even been actively doing much of anything to have the baby yet but this felt like someone had stabbed you in the heart hearing that you weren’t pregnant. “I don’t know why I got my hopes up.” You whispered into his shirt. You felt the soft cotton of it dampen from your tears. His warm hands rubbing you stung. You couldn’t look at him. You failed him. You thought he’d hate you. It was a sudden yet slow burn that you in fact were not on your way to starting a family. For some reason all you could think of was just how perfect you had described and talked about Trent with Gracie and yet here you were being anything but that to him. He was absolutely everything and you couldn’t do this thing for him.

“We’re gonna be fine, pretty girl.” He gave you the same soft broken smile. It was so different from his normal full, toothy, childish grin it almost made you sick. Days began to blur by and you mostly kept to yourself. You didn’t feel like you could tell anyone; not your mum, Tyler, not Lauren, Marcel, your sister, Dianne. In fact, Dianne had called you a few times but you just let them all run to voicemail. You couldn’t face her. Trent tried to cover for you and said you hadn’t been feeling well but Dianne knew you both better than that. Nothing really had happened but you wanted this baby so bad. The dramatic drop from possible to nothing was so jarring.

“So tomorrow… we go again I guess, yeah?” You spoke softly looking into the mirror putting on a moisturizer watching Trent dry off with a towel.

“Yeah, yeah… we go again. It’ll be good but hard. Will miss you so much sweetheart.” Wrapping the towel around his waist. He cooed walking up behind you, his strong arms came around your frame. He squished your body tightly eliciting a giggle from you but your face fell more into a pout just thinking of him not being around for almost two weeks. “Sure you don’t want to stay with my mum?” He asked with a kiss to your temple.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. Don’t want to put her out like that.” You shyly admitted but really you just didn’t want her to catch you crying over a baby you never had and missing your boyfriend who was only gone for his preseason. Your emotions felt so misaligned and so out of control since the doctor's visit.

“Will go by quick.” He lied and nodded before kissing you again. “Got you a little something you know?” He started talking walking out of the ensuite so you followed him back into the room and then into your wardrobe. “Stay there!” His laugh echoed in the room as he gestured for you not to come any closer to him as he rustled around looking for something. “Close your eyes, baby.”

“T…” you whined not particularly in the mood to play any games.

“C’mon. For me please. Close them.” And so you did. You heard him come walk back over to you. “Gimme your hand.” And so you did then feeling his bigger soft hand hold yours and a cold metal drape over your wrist. You squinted your eyes open some. “No peeking! You little cheat.” You smiled with a pout opening your eyes fully now. You looked down and Trent was clasping a dainty diamond gold tennis bracelet onto your wrist. You mouthed a thank you before he pulled you into a tight hug. “So you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” He giggled.

“You’re dumb…” you giggled “not in a million years.” Leaning up to kiss his lips.

You laid in bed that night unable to go to sleep feeling his chest rise and fall under your cheek. You watched the light from outside dance and reflect off your new bracelet that rested over him in silence as your mind raced.

“I got you, baby.” Trent whispered into your hair.

“You’re awake?” You whispered back into the quiet room before placing light kisses all over his bare skin. He hummed in assurance. He rubbed his hands over you and you purred back. Even though you were dreading his departure tomorrow, right now you felt more comfortable than you had in days. His hands slowly ran down your back and cupped your ass.

“It’ll happen.” He muttered in a low voice. You nodded and picked your head up resting your chin on him, your hand stretched out to play with his perfectly plump lips. You pulled at his bottom one before swiping your thumb over it.

“You’re so gorgeous, pretty boy.” You cooed back with a soft smile trying to change the subject, “These are absolutely heavenly.” You said pulling once more on his lip.

“Oh yeah? Good use too.” He cheekily said before he flipped you over and was on top of you. You gasped as he disappeared beneath the covers to in fact put his perfect pout to very good use. It wouldn’t result in a baby by any means but it sure as hell would feel good. An hour and a few orgasms later you were laying back on top of him dragging your foot slowly up his toned leg. The feeling of his soft skin under you was sublime. The sound of his quiet breathes synced with yours as he started to doze off. His smell comforting you into a sleepy haze. And when your eyes fluttered open the next morning suddenly the bed was empty and he was gone leaving you with a new braclet and no baby.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

On to Chapter 28 xx

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 2

Priest!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Bucky couldn’t seem to shake her.  Even though she never came to the church anymore, he saw her out in public way too often.  They always seemed to be bumping into one another.  They would say their pleasantries and then be on their way, until one day she invited him for coffee.  He didn’t see anything wrong with going for a coffee.  He’d done it with other congregants before.  She invited him out to coffee more often where they would sit or go for walks and talk for hours about anything and everything.  Religion as well, which he thought was odd.  She was extremely well educated in scripture and passionate about intellectual and philosophical questions when it came to the idea of God’s existence or religion vs. spirituality.  He felt like he was learning a lot from her and agreed with many of her points.  Their coffee dates became a regular thing until she finally heard from the lawyer again.

“The estate is out of probate,” Y/N said offhandedly one day.  Bucky’s head whipped around to her.

“Oh, that’s good.  Took them long enough,” he tried to sound unphased.  

“Yeah.  I was thinking of holding the meeting at the church, since some of the money will be going to you guys,” she continued, looking out over the water where they sat at the Brooklyn Bridge park.  

“That makes sense,” Bucky agreed.  He sat silently for another minute before drumming up the courage to ask, “What will you do when it’s all done?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said.  “I have nowhere to be.”

“Hm…well, if you do decide to leave, I hope you know I’ll miss you,” Bucky knew he was playing with fire as he said it.  He’d grown even more fond of and infatuated with Y/N as the months had progressed.  He not only was attracted to her but genuinely enjoyed her company.  He’d gone to sleep one too many times since starting to meet up with her a little too…excited, having vivid dreams of what life would be like with her.

Y/N gazed at him, an unreadable expression on her face.  Bucky met her stare, once again knowing he shouldn’t, but wanting this moment.  Y/N broke eye contact as she blinked rapidly then looked down at his hand in his lap.  She reached for it and held it as she looked back out at the water.  “Me too, Buck.”

***

“Father Barnes!  I know you’ve met our helper today,” Sister Carter said as she led someone up to him.  He looked around and his eyebrows furrowed.  

“Y/N?” he asked. 

“Yep, I uh, I don’t know what happened.  One minute I was just talking to her at the grocery store and the next I was agreeing to help with an activity,” Y/N looked surprised and a little upset with herself.

“Well, Sister Carter can be quite convincing,” Bucky laughed.  Sister Carter gave him a slight shove to his arm.

“It’s almost Christmas, we need all the help we can get for Mass,” Sister Carter scoffed at him.  “And some rumors have surfaced about Miss Y/L/N having quite a lovely singing voice that she used to use back in the day, and our little choir needs desperate help!”  Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked at Y/N worriedly.  Y/N met his gaze and just gave him a shrug.  “This way!” Sister Carter redirected Y/N sharply and pushed her towards the adults standing at the front of the sanctuary.  Sister Carter ran over to the piano in the corner and sat while Y/N stood in front of the choir.

“Uh…hi,” Y/N waved awkwardly.  “I guess let’s, um, go over what you’ve all been practicing?”

Within 20 minutes Y/N had the choir sounding better than they had for years.  She was able to help them fix their vowels and fine tune the way they sang.  Sister Carter was beside herself with excitement at having a choir that sounded somewhat good rather than a jumbled mess of noise.

“Miss Y/L/N, you’re a god send!” Sister Carter ran up to her as rehearsal drew to a close.  “Could I ask you to help with one more thing?”

“Uh, sure,” Y/N sighed.

“Miss Natasha Romanov here,” Sister Carter waved over one of the altos, who quickly came over, “has a solo in the song ‘Silent Night.’  Could you help her with it a bit?”

Y/N shook Natasha’s hand as they all walked over to the piano.  Bucky had been watching from the sidelines the entire time, admiring Y/N’s way of teaching people and her patience with them.  He got to hear her sing little snippets of the songs.  She had a nice voice, and he enjoyed getting to see this small part of her that she had buried long ago.  He also felt a protective streak over Y/N, feeling the need to watch over the rehearsal to make sure she wasn’t pushed too far into doing things she wasn’t comfortable with.  

As they practiced and Natasha was singing Y/N would interrupt and suggest trying something different, and when Natasha tried again it sounded better, making Natasha feel confident and smiling widely at her.  Bucky felt himself smiling like an idiot as he watched.  At one point Natasha was struggling with a higher note.

“Okay, yeah as an alto that’s a little out of range for you, so maybe if you try this,” Y/N showed Natasha how to breath to get the right support then showed her how to position herself and how to imagine the sound coming out of her mouth and through her body.  “So…’Sleep in heavenly peace…sleep in heavenly peace’…”

Bucky was transfixed.  Y/N’s voice at full volume, sweeping through the melody like it was second nature to her, with a perfect vibrato to it, was a sound he would gladly die to.  Natasha repeated what Y/N had done and was able to recreate the sound almost perfectly.  All 3 of the ladies celebrated with each other and ended practice. Bucky stood and started cleaning up after everyone that had come for Christmas Mass prep as Natasha left and Sister Carter and Y/N spoke to each other.

 “Thank you for your help, Miss Y/L/N,” Sister Carter gushed over her.  She glanced at Bucky who was farther away.  “Looks like we had a fan watching us.”

“What a weirdo,” Y/N mock whispered.  

“He’s quite the looker,” Sister Carter said, watching Y/N’s face carefully.

Y/N gave her a perplexed look.  “Um, yeah, he’s pretty…yeah, pretty.”

“Too bad he’s a man of the cloth, am I right?”

“I’m sorry, Sister, what are you trying to say?” Y/N faced her, her eyebrows furrowing as she gave her a disapproving look.

“Nothing!  Oh I mean no offense, dear.  It’s just hard to see a young, good-looking priest be distracted by a…well…”

“A what?” Y/N dared her, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Sister Carter’s friendly exterior seemed to melt away as she gave Y/N a disapproving look back.  “I see the way you look at each other, dear.  It won’t happen.  He’s a priest.  He will always choose God over you.  You’re his temptation, his Jezebel, nothing more.”  

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up at her accusation, a loud scoff leaving her open mouth.  “I beg your pardon?”

“I must get going, dear.  Thank you again for your help tonight,” Sister Carter quickly gathered her song books and gave Y/N one last tight smile before leaving the sanctuary.

Y/N watched her leave, astonishment still on her face at her audacity.  She huffed a sharp breath and quickly gathered her things.  As she turned to leave she almost smacked right into Bucky.

“Oh god, I mean gosh, I mean…ugh,” Y/N grunted as she stepped back.  “I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Whoa, what’s the rush, Y/N?” Bucky asked, an amused smile on his face.  It disappeared as he looked at Y/N’s expression.  “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N retorted, rubbing her face with her hand.  “It’s just late, I’m tired.”

“Oh, well, you sounded amazing up there,” Bucky complimented her.  Y/N watched him as he smiled at her.  “You’re a great teacher.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing at Bucky.

“Like what?” Bucky recoiled.

“Like…” Y/N stopped.  She had had some serious feelings for Bucky ever since he had comforted her that first day after the office meeting.  The coffee dates and long walks together as they talked cemented the fact that she not just liked him and found him attractive, but wanted him on a primal level.  She felt like she had been doing a good job at keeping up the act of just being friends, besides the odd holding hands or hugging that was very brief.  But if someone else could see something happening between them, it wasn’t as subtle as she had hoped.  She shook her head at herself and shut her eyes tight.  “I’m the temptation…” she muttered.

“What?” Bucky asked, leaning in to hear her.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.  Excuse me,” Y/N scurried around him.  

Bucky stopped her with a hand on her arm.  “Wait, did Sister Carter say something to you?” he asked.  Y/N tried to shake his hold on her but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let me go, Buck,” she tried to keep walking.

“No, wait,” Bucky suddenly cupped her face in his hands.  Y/N froze, her eyes widening and her hands instantly grabbing his wrists close to her face.  They sat there in silence, staring at each other, their breathing getting heavier, the space between them closer than it had ever been before.  Bucky’s eyes bore into Y/N’s, flickering back and forth and then glancing down to her lips.  Y/N gasped and pushed his hands away.  Bucky stepped back, his hands still in front of himself like he didn’t recognize them as his own.  “I’m…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Y/N felt like she could cry.  She wanted to reassure him, to hold him to her chest and stroke his hair and tell him it was alright, anything to wipe that awful horrified look off of his face.  And yet the words kept tumbling around in her head.  “Temptation…Jezebel…you’re the Jezebel…”  She inhaled a shaky breath then turned and literally ran out of the sanctuary.

Bucky felt like he couldn’t move as he watched her run.  What did he just do?  Why did he do that?  He held her, didn’t want her to leave, even felt like he was about to kiss her.  What was happening?

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #priest!bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky barnes #chapter 2

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fifteen

🐴Chapter summary: A bushfire threatens to turn your home to ashes— will the fire consume everything in its wake? Can you manage to get out before it’s too late?

🐴Chapter title: Did I Tell You?

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise at this point?), fire, almost dying (but no one dies!), a secret that finally gets the light of day, revelations, smut in the form of unprotected semi public sex (indoors in a stable); neck biting and kissing, handjob, clit play, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, marking, hair pulling, pussy rubbing, praise kink, slight exhibitionism (Jimin just doesn’t care, lol).

🐴Status: ongoing (to be completed on 2nd May 2024)

🐴Word count: 13.7k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267, *tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Did I Tell You?” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: okay, I promise this is the last of the horrible angst— there’s still a tiny bit of drama left, but it’s not really angsty, just drama lol 😆

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜* *for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next (Monday) →

“You burn like fire Burn like ice Your heart tears, your heart tears You be strong and hold it in But your heart still cares” - ‘Never Enough’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Your eyes gradually flutter open, and a sense of unease settles over you, the heaviness of your head serving as a stark reminder that it’s the dead of night. Yet, something feels off—there’s an eerie whooshing sound permeating the air, accompanied by an unexplained warmth that seems to linger oppressively. Each breath you draw feels laborious, as if the atmosphere itself has thickened, suffocating and dense, leaving you struggling to fill your lungs with the heavy, stifling air.

As you groggily open your eyes, a sense of disorientation washes over you, prompting you to sit up on the bed and plant your feet firmly on the familiar, yet unexpectedly warm, wooden floor. Confusion gnaws at your mind—why is the floor emitting heat, a sensation so out of place in the chill of the night?

The eerie creaking noises echoing through the darkness send a shiver down your spine, an unsettling sensation creeping over you like a shadow in the night. With each step, the unexpected warmth of the wooden floor sears against the soles of your bare feet, intensifying the sense of unease that coils within you.

You approach the door, your hand instinctively reaches for the handle, only to recoil at the unexpected warmth that radiates from its surface. Ignoring the discomfort, you grip the handle once more, determined to open the door, but it stubbornly refuses to yield. Panic mounting, you hasten to the window, drawing back the curtains, and are met with a terrifying sight: flames, fierce and unrelenting, dancing in the distance beside the house. Your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush towards the wall shared with your sister, desperate to ensure her safety.

“Jess!” Your voice echoes with frantic urgency, reverberating through the walls as you pound on them with growing desperation. “There’s a fire!” Each word is punctuated by the thunderous pounding of your heart, the gravity of the situation propelling you into action.

Your heart sinks as the silence from the other side of the wall persists, your pounding growing more frantic with each passing second. With a growing sense of dread, you turn back to the door, only to find the handle searing to the touch, its heat now unbearable. It’s in that moment of realization, as the reality of the situation sets in, that the horrifying truth dawns upon you— the fire is inside the house. 

As panic grips you tightly, you frantically scan the room, your senses heightened by the thickening, suffocating air. Each breath feels like a struggle, the oppressive weight of the atmosphere pressing down on your chest.

Amidst the chaos, a melody of distant voices pierces through the haze of panic, drawing your attention to the window. With trembling hands, you fling it open, revealing the familiar faces of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin standing outside below. Tears blur your vision as relief floods your senses, grateful beyond measure to see them safe and unharmed amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

“Guys!” Your voice echoes with desperation as you lean out the window, your heart pounding in your chest. “There’s a fire and Jessi isn't responding. I’m scared,” you cry out to them, tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of fear and helplessness. The urge to escape and just crawls out the window grips you fiercely, but the height of your window serves as a cruel reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourself in.

“Yeah, we can’t get into the house, the fire’s too intense,” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with despair, her anguished expression striking you to the core. A chill runs down your spine as the weight of her words sinks in, dashing any hopes you had of imminent rescue.

“We’ve already called the fire station, they’re on their way!” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the chaos with palpable frustration, her words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

“You need to find something to cover your mouth with and close the window tight. We’ll figure out a way to reach you and Jess,” Ara’s voice quivers with urgency, tears streaking down her cheeks as she pleads with you, her desperation mirroring your own.

“Why should I close the window? I can barely breathe in here,” you gasp, your words punctuated by labored breaths as you cling to the fleeting sensation of fresh air flooding in.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but keeping the window open will only feed the fire more oxygen, making it worse. You have to close it and find a way out, and we’ll do everything we can to reach you,” Ara insists, her brow furrowed with worry as she implores you to heed her advice.

You gulp down your rising panic and shut the window, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Rummaging through your dresser, you snatch up a scarf to cover your mouth, desperate for even a shred of relief from the stifling air. Returning to the door, you try everything—pushing, kicking, pleading—but it remains stubbornly sealed shut, mocking your futile efforts. Exhaustion creeps in like a heavy fog, clouding your thoughts as the acrid stench of smoke fills your lungs, each breath a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. The distant roar of flames outside serves as a grim reminder of the encroaching danger, fueling your mounting dread. Has the fire reached your floor? Is that why the air feels so unbearably hot and thick? Panic grips you tighter, uncertainty gnawing at your resolve as you brace yourself for the worst.

Desperation claws at your insides, urging you to reach your sister’s side, yet with each passing moment, your body feels as if it’s succumbing to an invisible weight, dragging you down with relentless force. Defeated, you shuffle back to your bed, the searing heat of the floorboards scorching your bare feet with every agonizing step.

The weight of exhaustion presses down on you like a leaden blanket, dragging you tiredly towards the comforting embrace of your bed. As you sink into its welcoming embrace, your gaze drifts upwards, the once-clear ceiling now obscured by billowing clouds of smoke, a grim testament to the encroaching danger. Frustration and helplessness surge within you, a primal scream of defiance rising in your throat at the merciless grip of the bushfire wreaking havoc on your home.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and soot that stains your skin, as you feel the tendrils of consciousness slipping away, consumed by the suffocating grip of smoke and heat. Gasping for air, each breath a desperate struggle, you’re overcome by a sense of utter helplessness. In the suffocating darkness, a chilling realization dawns upon you—this may be the end, this is how you die.

As darkness encroaches upon your consciousness, a kaleidoscope of memories floods your mind like a relentless tide. Childhood days spent playing with your sister, laughter echoing through the air; stolen moments with Jimin, each glance a silent confession of your affection. Regrets and what-ifs swirl together in a maelstrom of emotion, a poignant reminder of the preciousness of time. Thoughts of Jimin linger like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the encroaching abyss. Despite your reluctance to surrender to the void, exhaustion weighs heavy upon your weary soul, leaving you with little strength to fight.

The air grows thick with suffocating heat, enveloping you in an oppressive embrace as darkness threatens to consume you whole. Despite the sweltering temperature, shivers wrack your trembling frame, tears mingling with sweat upon your cheeks in a testament to your despair. A profound sense of isolation descends upon you, a heavy cloak of loneliness in the face of impending doom. Panic claws at your chest, a desperate plea echoing in the recesses of your mind—no, you’re not ready for this, not yet. 

But in the blink of an eye, the world fades into an abyss of darkness, swallowing you whole.

Without warning, Jimin awakens in the dead of night, a strange sensation coursing through his body, disrupting the peaceful slumber he usually enjoys. His eyes flutter open, his mind unexpectedly alert, an oddity at this late hour. Running a hand through his tousled blonde locks, he senses the futility of attempting to return to sleep. With a resigned sigh, he resolves to quench his newfound thirst, navigating his way down to the kitchen in the darkness, the silence of the night shrouding his solitary journey.

Descending the stairs with deliberate steps, Jimin navigates his way through the dimly lit house and into the kitchen, where he fills a glass with water. As he takes a sip, his gaze absentmindedly drifts towards the window, only to be arrested by a peculiar sight outside. With a furrowed brow, he pulls back the curtain, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of flames licking the night sky, casting an ominous glow over your residence.

A surge of dread washes over him, gripping his heart with icy fingers as he beholds the inferno raging outside your home. His breath hitches in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, as the glass slips from his trembling fingers, shattering upon impact with the unforgiving floor. Water spills like tears, mingling with the shards of glass.

Heart pounding with urgency, he races up the stairs, his feet pounding against the floor with frantic intensity. Bursting into his brother’s room, he flings the door open with a resounding crash. 

“Jungkook! Wake up!” he cries out, his voice laced with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire at Bora ranch!”

Startled from slumber, Jungkook bolts upright, his eyes wide with confusion and sleep-induced disorientation. “What’s going on?” he demands, his voice tinged with a mix of alarm and bewilderment.

“Get the fuck up! We need to make sure they’re okay!” Jimin’s voice cracks with urgency, his words laced with a potent blend of fear and determination. With a swift tug, he yanks the duvet off Jungkook’s body, his movements urgent and decisive. Jungkook springs into action, propelled by his brother’s urgency, scrambling to grab some clothes as adrenaline courses through his veins.

In a sudden rush of realization, Jimin’s eyes widen as he registers his scant attire, clad only in his boxers. With a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, he dashes back into his bedroom, his movements swift and purposeful as he hastily throws on some clothes, his mind racing with the need to act swiftly in the face of impending danger.

“Should we get Yoongi and Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice rings out amidst the chaos, his words punctuated by the thunderous rhythm of their footsteps as they hurtle down the stairs, snatching up their boots in a frenzied haste.

“Yeah, we need all the help we can get!” Jimin’s agreement echoes through the tumult, his heart hammering against his ribs with a frantic urgency— you have to be okay. With determination driving him forward, he sprints towards the cottages where Yoongi and Hoseok are sleeping. Bursting into Yoongi’s room without a preamble, he finds the poor man groggy and disoriented, his yells initially falling on deaf ears amidst the haze of sleep.

Suddenly, Hoseok materializes in Yoongi’s doorway, his voice tinged with disbelief and concern. “A fire?” His words hang heavy in the air, cutting through the haze of confusion and sleep like a beacon of clarity amidst the chaos.

Jimin simply nods, a whirlwind of panic swirling in his eyes, each frantic heartbeat urging them to hasten their efforts. With a bush fire, time is a merciless adversary, and he knows they must act swiftly to ensure your safety.

With urgency coursing through his veins, Hoseok rushes to Yoongi’s side, his hands grabbing hold of his weary form and shaking him awake. “Wake up, babe!” He exclaims, his voice trembling with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire!”

Yoongi jolts upright, his eyes scanning the room in a frantic search for signs of fire, only to find none. A wave of relief washes over him, his tense muscles gradually easing. Yet, as he catches sight of Jimin’s startled expression, a sense of unease creeps back into his veins, dispelling the fleeting comfort.

“The fire’s raging at Bora ranch,” Jimin urges, his voice urgent as they hastily don their clothes. “We need to move—now,” he insists, his words a fervent plea propelled by the gravity of the situation.

With synchronized determination, they burst outside, their feet pounding against the ground as they rush towards their vehicles. Jungkook’s truck roars to life, its engine already purring with readiness as they pile in, their hearts racing in tandem with the accelerating beat of the engine. Tires screech against the dirt, leaving behind a trail of urgency as Jungkook accelerates out of the yard, the weight of their concern propelling them forward towards your home.

The atmosphere inside the truck is suffocating, weighed down by an oppressive silence that hangs thick in the air. Jimin can hardly take it, the tension gnawing at his nerves like a relentless predator. But as they approach your house, its silhouette shrouded in towering flames, a surge of dread courses through him. Outside, chaos reigns as stable hands dart about in a frenzy of panic, their frantic movements a stark contrast to the engulfing inferno.

Jimin leaps out of the truck, his heart pounding with a desperate urgency as he makes a beeline for Soo-ah amidst the chaos. “Where is she?” He demands, his voice a raw mix of fear and determination, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance.

Soo-ah’s sorrowful expression sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, a cold knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He glances over at his brother, Jungkook, who stands beside him, his chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled urgency. Together, they share a silent understanding—a silent vow to do whatever it takes to ensure your safety amidst the engulfing inferno.

“They are both stuck inside, they can’t get out and we can’t get in,” Ara’s voice trembles with tears, her words cutting through the chaos like a knife. Hoseok rushes to her side, a pillar of strength amidst the turmoil, his arms encircling her trembling form in a comforting embrace, as they both grapple with the overwhelming fear and helplessness of the situation.

“Have you called the firemen?” Yoongi’s calm demeanor belies the urgency of the situation, his voice steady as he takes charge amidst the chaos. Jimin struggles to comprehend Yoongi’s composure, his own heart threatening to burst from his chest with worry for you. Each passing second outside feels like an eternity wasted, a precious moment lost in indecision—Jimin knows they can’t afford to delay any longer, action must be taken, and fast.

He has to do something!

Restlessness consumes him, an urgent energy coursing through his veins as he clenches his fists at his sides. The weight of inaction pulls down on him like a heavy burden—he can’t simply stand idly by while you’re in danger. Every fiber of his being screams for action, for a chance to reach you, to pull you from the engulfing flames. The thought of you trapped inside ignites a fiery determination within him—he refuses to entertain the notion that you might be suffocating in there, not while there's still a chance to save you.

His body moves with an instinctual force, propelling him towards the main door in a surge of determination. The cacophony of voices around him fades into insignificance—he hears their warnings, their pleas for caution, but he cannot heed them. Time is slipping away, and he refuses to stand idle while you remain in peril. The urgency to ensure your safety eclipses all other considerations. He must find you, reassure himself of your well-being, and bring you to safety, no matter the risk.

The oppressive heat of the engulfing flames envelops him as he stands in the doorway, a stark reminder of the danger that looms within. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, he knows he must make the attempt, no matter how reckless it may seem. Desperation fuels his actions as he improvises a makeshift barrier for his mouth with the edges of his shirt, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the searing heat and choking smoke. Surveying the inferno that surrounds him, he struggles to push aside the paralyzing fear gnawing at his core. Thoughts of your potential whereabouts flash through his mind—maybe you’re still asleep in your room, blissfully unaware of the imminent danger, or worse, trapped and helpless amidst the relentless blaze. Yet, he refuses to entertain the latter possibility, not yet—not until he’s exhausted every ounce of effort to find you and bring you to safety.

As he stands amidst the flames, grappling with the enormity of the task before him, a familiar presence materializes at his side. 

With a swift turn of his head, he locks eyes with his brother, a silent exchange of determination passing between them. Without a word spoken, they share a nod—a silent agreement to face the inferno together. 

In perfect synchrony, they steel themselves against the searing heat and billowing smoke, and with unwavering resolve, they plunge into the heart of the raging blaze, their footsteps echoing amidst the crackling of flames.

Amidst the oppressive heat and acrid stench of burning wood, the air thick with the suffocating smoke of a fire run rampant, Jimin’s senses reel with the intensity of the fire. The stairs before them lie engulfed in a writhing sea of flames, a daunting obstacle that threatens to thwart their desperate bid for rescue. 

Yet, driven by a fierce determination, Jimin and his brother press onward, their footsteps echoing against the backdrop of crackling fire. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, they ascend the staircase with swift determination, their breaths ragged and labored as they navigate the treacherous terrain. As they reach the top, their chests heave with exertion, the searing heat seeping through their clothes and scorching their skin. His heart pounds in his chest as they exchange a wordless glance, a silent reassurance passing between them in the face of unimaginable peril.

With purposeful strides, Jungkook moves towards Jessi’s door, his hand poised to turn the warm handle, but it refuses to yield. Jimin follows suit, his trembling fingers grappling with the warm doorknob of your room, yet despite his efforts, it remains steadfastly locked. 

Panic threatens to consume him as he grapples with the realization that their path to safety has been obstructed, the flames of despair licking at the edges of his consciousness.

Locked in a desperate race against time, their shared determination ignites a surge of adrenaline as they exchange a resolute glance. Without hesitation, they channel their combined strength into a synchronized assault on the stubborn barrier before them. With a primal roar of exertion, they unleash a barrage of powerful kicks, the thunderous impact reverberating through the air as their boots collide with the sturdy wooden door.

Driven by an unwavering resolve to reach you, to ensure your safety at any cost, they pour every ounce of their being into the relentless assault. And then, in a moment of sheer defiance against the encroaching flames, the door yields to their collective might, splintering open with a deafening crack as the barrier between them and their objective shatters into a shower of wooden fragments.

As he storms into your room, a tempest of urgency swirling around him, his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, cocooned in the midst of chaos. With gentle yet determined hands, he reaches out, his fingers threading through your hair in a tender caress, seeking to anchor you in the tumultuous reality. 

“Love?” His voice, a lifeline amidst the turmoil, carries a blend of concern and relief, each syllable imbued with an unspoken plea for your response, a desperate hope that you’ll awaken from the grasp of slumber and reassure him that you’re safe.

An eerie silence blankets the room as his call goes unanswered, a chilling reminder of the precariousness of the moment. His heart lurches with a primal fear, the stillness of your form casting shadows of doubt in his mind. Uncertainty claws at his senses, a relentless adversary threatening to overwhelm him in the face of the unknown.

Reluctantly, he inches closer, his trembling hand hovering over your chest, a hesitant gesture born of equal parts dread and determination. With bated breath, he seeks solace in the rhythmic cadence of your heartbeat, a fragile melody that whispers tales of life amidst the chaos. As the reassuring thud beneath his palm registers, a flood of relief washes over him, a torrent of gratitude cascading through his veins. In that fleeting moment of reassurance, he offers a silent prayer to the heavens, a fervent plea for your continued safety.

Yet, the sight of your motionless form sends a shiver down his spine, a sobering reminder of the perilous precipice upon which you both stand. Though your breaths may still dance in the realm of the living, you seem to be unconscious, which isn’t good either, but he reckons it’s better than being dead.

Gently, he gathers your weight into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that belies the urgency of the situation. As he lifts you, he can’t help but notice the telltale traces of dried tears etched upon your cheeks, each mark a silent testament to the fear and despair that had gripped you in his absence. His heart twists with a fierce pang of guilt, knowing that you had endured this terrifying ordeal alone, trapped within the suffocating embrace of the inferno. The realization tightens his throat with a knot of anguish, exacerbated by the acrid tendrils of smoke that coil around him, assaulting his senses with their noxious grip.

With each step towards safety, his arms cradle you protectively, a shield against the relentless onslaught of danger. Despite the weight of your unconscious form pressing against him, he carries you with unwavering determination, his every movement fueled by a desperate need to ensure your survival. With each step, he navigates through the swirling chaos of flames, his senses heightened to the crackling roar of the inferno that threatens to consume everything in its path. It’s a testament to his quick thinking and reflexes that he’s managed to evade the licking tongues of fire thus far, emerging unscathed from the fiery labyrinth that surrounds him.

As he emerges from your room, a flicker of relief washes over him at the sight of his brother, bearing your sister in a similar protective embrace. Their eyes meet in silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding passing between them that you both are now out of immediate danger. It’s a fleeting moment of reassurance amidst the chaos, when he realizes they have the task of maneuvering back to the safety of the outdoors.

As they descend the stairs, the cacophony of splintering wood and the ominous crackle of flames grow louder, echoing through the crumbling structure like a sinister symphony of destruction. Jimin’s eyes dart frantically around the deteriorating surroundings, a surge of urgency coursing through him as he watches sections of the building succumb to the merciless fire. His heart pounds in his chest as he realizes the gravity of their situation. Each passing second brings them closer to the brink of catastrophe, the looming threat of imminent collapse hanging heavy in the air like a palpable menace. With a gut-wrenching sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Jimin knows that they can’t afford to linger a moment longer.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous roar of the blaze. 

Every fiber of his being screams at him to flee, to escape the clutches of the encroaching flames before it’s too late. They have to get out now, he realizes with chilling clarity, their very lives hanging in the balance as the once-familiar surroundings crumble into ash and dust around them.

As Jimin descends the stairs, his senses heightened by the chaos engulfing the building, a faint sound cuts through the roaring inferno—a whisper, barely audible amidst the crackling flames. His gaze flickers downward, drawn to your motionless form cradled in his arms.

Despite the pallor of your skin and the stillness of your body, your lips tremble with a silent plea, forming words that dance on the edge of his consciousness. With bated breath, he strains to decipher the murmured syllables, his heart hammering in his chest as he strains to catch every fleeting whisper amidst the cacophony of destruction.

As Jimin descends the stairs, your faint voice reaches him through the thick veil of smoke, each syllable a fragile thread binding his heart to yours. “Jimin, I…” you whisper, your words a haunting melody amidst the chaos of the raging fire. His name on your lips is both a plea and a promise, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that binds you together.

His chest constricts with emotion as he hears the tremor in your voice, your body frail and vulnerable in his arms. Every fiber of his being yearns to shield you from harm, to banish the fear and uncertainty etched upon your face. In that fleeting moment, amid the swirling inferno, he vows to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

Jimin and Jungkook descend the stairs, navigating through the billowing smoke and collapsing debris with a sense of urgency. As they reach the bottom, the sight of the main entrance consumed by a wall of flames sends a surge of panic through their veins. With no way out in sight, they exchange a silent glance, their determination unyielding in the face of adversity.

Turning away from the inferno blocking their path, they set their sights on the back entrance, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Their boots pound against the scorched floorboards as they dash toward the exit, each step fueled by the instinct to survive. Amidst the crackling of flames and the roar of destruction, they press forward, driven by a singular purpose: to escape the clutches of the fire and emerge unscathed into the cool embrace of safety.

Gasping for breath, their lungs craving the cool kiss of fresh air, Jimin and Jungkook burst through the back entrance, their bodies trembling with exertion and relief. Collapsing onto the ground, their chests heave with the weight of their harrowing escape, sweat mingling with soot on their skin as they bask in the newfound freedom from the raging inferno behind them.

Coughing violently, Jimin gently lowers you to the ground, your figure appearing eerily motionless against the backdrop of chaos. Yet amidst the turmoil, the subtle rise and fall of your chest offer a glimmer of hope, a fragile reassurance that despite the devastation surrounding you, life still stubbornly persists within your fragile frame.

As he cradles you close, he feels the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat beneath his trembling palms, a fragile reassurance amidst the devastation. His yearning intensifies, desperate for the solace of your gaze to pierce through the suffocating haze. A solitary tear breaks free, tracing a path down his soot-stained cheek, as he leans over you, his silent sobs mingling with the crackle of the flames.

He surveys your form, clad in nothing but your short pajamas, and his heart aches at the sight of ashes smudging your delicate features and clinging to your body, while your bare feet carry the painful marks of the searing heat. Unable to stem the tide of tears cascading down his cheeks, he's overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, his anguish mirrored in the devastation that surrounds you. Fuck, now he can’t stop crying.

“What happened?” As he lifts his gaze, his eyes meet those of your sister, cradled in his brother’s arms, her coughs echoing the struggle for breath that they all share. Amidst the billowing smoke and crackling flames, her bewildered expression speaks volumes, silently questioning the chaos that has thrust them into the cold night air.

Jungkook gestures toward your engulfed home, and a wave of sorrow washes over her features, etching lines of despair onto her once hopeful face. But then, her gaze flits between Jungkook, you, and Jimin, her eyes widening with realization like a sudden crack of lightning in the darkness. With a desperate urgency, she squirms in Jungkook’s arms, a silent plea echoing in her frantic movements to reach you both.

“She’s not waking up. But she’s breathing,” Jimin murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration as he seeks to comfort your sister. Yet, deep down, he knows his words offer little solace, for the absence of your consciousness weighs heavily on them all.

Tears cascade down Jessi’s cheeks as she seeks solace in Jungkook’s comforting embrace, her sobs muffled against his chest, her entire frame trembling with fear and anguish.

The urgent rhythm of footsteps echoes across the scorched ground as Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin converge on the terrace where Jimin and the others are gathered, their faces etched with concern and their eyes wide with fear, their collective breaths held in anticipation of the unfolding tragedy.

Relief washes over Soo-ah’s face as she collapses beside you, her eyes darting between your still form and Jimin’s tear-streaked face, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and gratitude, thankful for the sight of you both amidst the chaos and devastation of the fire.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the tension, his concern palpable as he approaches, seeking answers amidst the swirling emotions and charred remnants of the night's events.

“Come on, wake up love,” Jimin’s voice quivers with desperation as he tenderly strokes your hair, his silent plea echoing in the night air. The weight of everything you’ve endured hangs heavy in the atmosphere, urging him to pray with all his might for your return to consciousness.

“I think she’s unconscious,” Jimin’s voice trembles with emotion, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggles to maintain composure. The touch of Yoongi’s hand on his back offers a brief moment of solace amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that they’re all in this together.

“Maybe she inhaled too much smoke,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, laden with concern as he offers a possible explanation for your unconscious state. With the others drawing nearer, their collective worry hangs heavy in the air.

“I just want her to be okay,” Jimin’s voice breaks with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of his fear and love. His hiccups betray his struggle to contain his anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks to cascade onto your face, a silent plea for your recovery.

“She’ll be okay,” Yoongi’s voice is a soothing whisper against the backdrop of chaos, his hand a gentle anchor on Jimin’s trembling back. Yet, despite his attempt to reassure, the pain in Jimin’s chest refuses to subside, a relentless ache echoing the uncertainty of the moment.

As the piercing wail of sirens fills the air, Jimin’s tense muscles finally relax with a sense of relief—help has arrived. The firemen swiftly leap into action, their trained movements a dance of efficiency as they unleash torrents of water and foam, battling the voracious flames that threaten to devour everything in their path. Amidst the chaos, Jimin’s eyes catch sight of another vehicle approaching, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Recognizing it as an ambulance, his heart leaps with a mix of hope and apprehension. Two paramedics rush to his side, their urgent footsteps echoing his own racing pulse as they settle beside him.

A burly fireman strides over, his expression etched with urgency as he scans the group for any sign of distress. With a grave nod, he inquires if anyone else remains trapped inside the fire. Heads shake in unison, a collective silent plea for everyone’s safety. Satisfied with their response, the fireman retreats to join his comrades, a determined glint in his eye as they continue their battle against the encroaching blaze.

Their gaze shifts from the firefighter to you and your sister, where the paramedics are now attending to your needs. With a practiced eye, one paramedic assesses your condition, expressing confusion at your unconscious state despite outward signs of normalcy. Assuring you’ll be taken to the hospital for further evaluation, he seems baffled by the inexplicable situation. Meanwhile, Jessi vehemently refuses assistance, insisting on remaining at the scene rather than being whisked away to the hospital.

The paramedics emphasize the standard protocol following exposure to a fire, urging Jimin and his brother to accompany them. “It’s crucial we assess you for any potential smoke inhalation effects,” they explain, gesturing towards both of them.

As Jimin and Jungkook nod, relinquishing control to the paramedics, they witness the swift actions unfold. You’re carefully placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Meanwhile, another ambulance arrives, from which a fresh team of paramedics rushes to attend to Jessi. Jimin observes Jungkook’s steadfast support, walking alongside her, holding her hand tightly. Despite her protests about the ordeal’s necessity, she's more concerned about your well-being, and Jimin's heart swells with gratitude for your unwavering bond.

You’re gently loaded into the ambulance, and Jimin’s heart weighs heavily with worry. The paramedic gestures for him to join you, and he settles beside you in the cramped space, sandwiched between the paramedic and you. Oxygen masks are swiftly placed over both of your faces, and Jimin’s gaze remains fixated on you as the paramedic meticulously examines you for any signs of damage from the fire—cuts, burns, anything that might indicate the extent of the ordeal you’ve endured. Jimin's breath catches in his throat, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he waits for reassurance that you’ll be okay.

The ambulance lurches into motion, and Jimin feels every jolt and bump along the road, a stark contrast to the stillness within the vehicle. Through the small windows, he glimpses your home, a haunting silhouette against the backdrop of flames and the cascading spray of water and foam. A queasy sensation churns in his stomach, and he coughs softly, his eyes fixed on your serene but fragile form as the paramedic diligently tends to you. In the midst of chaos, his focus remains solely on ensuring your safety, his heart aching with the weight of uncertainty.

Fuck, he hopes with every fiber of his being that you’ll be okay.

You feel a comforting warmth against your hand, a reassuring presence that eases the ache in your body. Slowly, you register the weight of a head resting gently on your shoulder. With a soft groan escaping your lips, the pressure shifts, a gentle response to your discomfort.

Your eyes flutter open, and a dry, scratchy sensation grips your throat. You cough softly, squinting against the assault of the room’s yellow fluorescent light. Where in the world are you?

As you turn your head, your eyes adjusting to the harsh light, they land on something beautiful: Jimin. Your heart quickens its pace, and a smile blooms on your lips as you take in his presence, though his expression carries the weight of worry.

“Hi, my love,” he whispers, his voice dripping with love and longing, yet tinged with a hint of sorrow. The sound of his voice washes over you like a comforting wave, and you eagerly intertwine your fingers with his, seeking solace in his touch.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze, filled with an ocean of love, meets yours, yet there’s a subtle furrow in his brow that unsettles you. Despite the warmth in his eyes, that furrow hints at a worry you wish you could erase.

You cough again, the rasp in your throat a reminder of the ordeal you’ve been through. “Okay, I think,” you manage, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of beeping machines and sterile hospital air.

He strokes your hair again with a tenderness that soothes your frazzled nerves, his touch tracing a path of reassurance down to your cheek. As you lean into his caress, a sigh escapes your lips, enveloped in the warmth and comfort he offers.

With Jimin’s hand firmly clasped in yours, determination fuels your efforts as you struggle to sit up. Against the backdrop of beeping machines and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room, you finally manage to rise, albeit slowly. Your gaze sweeps over the array of medical equipment surrounding you, noting the IV drip connected to a port in your hand, a tangible reminder of the ordeal you've endured.

As the door creaks open, a figure clad in a white coat strides in, their demeanor exuding both professionalism and concern. The doctor’s presence commands attention as they approach your bedside, their eyes scanning you with a practiced scrutiny. With a gentle yet probing inquiry, they delve into your well-being, seeking reassurance amidst the lingering aftermath of the fire. Despite your efforts to convey resilience, your voice betrays the strain.

“That’s to be expected with all the smoke you inhaled. And you’ve been unconscious for a few days, so that might not help the itchy feeling you have in your throat,” The doctor’s words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of your realization. Unconscious? For days?

The revelation hits you like a wave, washing over you with disbelief and a sense of disorientation. You exchange a bewildered glance with Jimin, your mind struggling to reconcile the lost time with the present moment. The doctor’s explanation offers a semblance of understanding, attributing your hoarse throat to the lingering effects of smoke inhalation and the prolonged unconsciousness. 

As you meet Jimin’s reassuring gaze, a silent understanding passes between you both, anchoring you in the present moment despite the disorienting haze of recent events. His nod offers a steadying presence, a silent promise that you’re not navigating this uncertainty alone. Returning your attention to the doctor, her words linger in your mind like an echo, a gentle reminder of the fragility of your body and the importance of self-care in the aftermath of such trauma.

“Rest,” she advises, her tone a blend of professionalism and empathy, “and we'll monitor your progress closely.” With a final sweep of her gaze, she withdraws from the room, leaving you and Jimin enveloped in a cocoon of quietude.

Turning towards Jimin, you feel the weight of the recent ordeal pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. “There was a fire... in my house,” you utter, each word a struggle against the vivid memories clawing at the edges of your consciousness. As the recollection floods your mind, your voice wavers, threatened by the surge of emotions threatening to engulf you. Yet, despite the turmoil within, Jimin remains a steadfast presence by your side, his silent solidarity a lifeline in the midst of chaos. Feeling his gentle touch, a comforting reassurance amidst the turmoil, you find solace in the warmth of his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hand.

“I thought I was gonna die,” you confess, the words tumbling from your lips laden with raw emotion, each syllable a testament to the terror that gripped your heart during those harrowing moments. As you speak, you feel the jagged edges of fear still lingering in the corners of your mind, a sharp reminder of the perilous brush with mortality you’ve just narrowly escaped. “But then you came and saved me, didn’t you?” You continue, your voice trembling with gratitude and vulnerability. Turning your gaze towards Jimin, you meet his eyes, the intensity of your unspoken emotions reflected in the shimmering pools of unshed tears that threaten to spill over. In that moment, a surge of longing washes over you, an overwhelming desire to envelop him in a tight embrace, to seek solace in the shelter of his comforting presence.

He nods solemnly, his gaze mirroring the tumultuous whirlpool of emotions churning within you. With a gentle yet unwavering grip, his hand remains intertwined with yours, serving as an anchor amidst the tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. In his touch, you find solace and strength, a silent promise of unwavering support and companionship through the darkest of storms.

You vividly recall the sensation of sturdy, familiar hands enveloping your body, anchoring you amidst the chaos. Amidst the acrid stench of burning wood that filled the air, his scent, musky and robust, wafted around you like a reassuring embrace, calming your frayed nerves even in your unconscious state. In the firm grip of his hand, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the turmoil, a silent assurance that in his presence, everything would ultimately be alright.

As memories of that harrowing night flood your mind, tears cascade down your cheeks, each droplet a testament to the fear and relief etched in your heart. Drawing solace from his presence, you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his embrace. With a gentle gesture, you pat the space beside you on the bed, silently beckoning him to share in the solace of your sanctuary. Obliging your unspoken invitation, he rises from the chair with utmost care, mindful of the tangle of wires that tether you to the machines. As he settles beside you on the bed, his comforting presence envelops you like a protective shield, igniting a flicker of warmth that kindles a fire within your soul, banishing the lingering shadows.

You turn to him, your gaze tender as you witness the silent testament of his emotions, a few tears tracing their path down his cheeks. With heartfelt sincerity, you express the depths of your gratitude, your voice soft yet laden with profound meaning. “Thank you, Jimin, for saving me,” you whisper, each word a poignant acknowledgement of the profound impact of his selfless act.

You observe as a cascade of tears continues to journey down his captivating face, each drop a testament to the depth of his emotions. Without hesitation, you lean closer, seeking solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat, nestling your head into the sanctuary of his neck. In his embrace, you find refuge from the turmoil of the past, finding peace amidst the storm of emotions.

“You don’t have to thank me love, I would do anything for you,” he murmurs tenderly, intertwining his fingers with yours once more, his touch a gentle reassurance.

“Are you alright, though? You went into the fire to save me... Are you hurt?” you inquire, gazing up at his face, tracing the contours of his razor-sharp jawline, the delicate arrangement of moles adorning his neck, and the trio of moles gracing his forehead. He’s so breathtaking.

His chest is a comforting support, and you can feel the gentle vibrations as he speaks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried about you,” he assures, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet hospital room.

You smile against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. “I’m alive thanks to you,” you whisper softly, the words carrying the weight of your gratitude. In this moment, you’re overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through you—love, gratitude, and a profound sense of being alive. You’re grateful for his heroic actions, for the precious gift of life he’s given you. Because in that harrowing moment, when flames threatened to engulf everything, you were certain it was the end. Yet here you are, with him by your side, and there’s a world of possibilities waiting to be explored together. You're filled with a deep appreciation for every moment, every experience yet to come, with him as your steadfast companion. As you bask in the warmth of his love, you feel your heart brimming with an overwhelming abundance of affection, ready to overflow at any moment.

You squeeze his hand gently and lift yourself up a bit, yearning to lock eyes with him. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the remnants of emotion lingering in his eyes. “Jimin,” you start, your hand finding its place over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch. As you look up at him, his hazel eyes capture yours, and a tender smile graces his lips, revealing his endearing crooked teeth. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” The words spill from your lips, carrying with them the depth of your affection, the intensity of your feelings for him.

His eyes soften, and with a gentle touch, he traces the curve of your cheek, his fingers lingering on your lips. As his touch glides over your bottom lip, a wave of tingles dances down your spine, and an involuntary moan escapes your lips, soft and breathy.

“You have told me. And I love you too,” he reassures, his voice a soft caress against your lips. With a surge of affection, you lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the softness and warmth that only his kisses bring. It's a tender embrace, each moment stretching as if time itself pauses, conveying the depth of your love and gratitude in the gentle meeting of your lips.

“Jimin,” you murmur, the weight of your words heavy with emotion, as you draw in a deep breath, feeling the electric hum of love coursing through your veins. “I don’t want to waste another moment. I want to spend every heartbeat, every breath, with you—for all eternity.”

You observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his eyes widening like saucers, and a flicker of uncertainty dances across his features. Did you overstep? You quickly reassure yourself—it’s not a proposal, merely a declaration of your unwavering devotion. You just want him to understand that you're in this for the long haul.

“Don’t you want that?” You inquire, peering into his eyes, hoping to decipher the unexpected silence that now envelops him.

“Are you proposing to me?” He queries, a perplexed furrow forming on his brow, and you respond with a gentle smile.

“No, I just want to let you know that I want to be together forever. Not that I’m opposed to marriage or anything,” you clarify, your voice soft with affection, and you offer a reassuring smile. As you observe his expression easing, a warm chuckle escapes your lips.

“Also,” you begin earnestly, meeting your boyfriend's gaze, “I want you to know that I’m okay with Deiji, too. I’m ready to help take care of your child as if they were my own.” You grip his hands gently, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. You realize you haven’t fully addressed the challenges of his impending fatherhood and the presence of his ex, and you want to make amends.

His expression shifts, a subtle blend of emotions crossing his features—sadness, maybe regret. It’s a moment of vulnerability that you can’t quite decipher, leaving you feeling unsettled and curious all at once.

“What’s wrong?” you inquire, your voice soft but laden with concern as you peer deeply into his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the turmoil brewing within him.

He releases a heavy sigh before mustering the courage to speak. “It turns out the baby isn’t mine,” he reveals, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

Your eyes widen, the realization sinking in like a heavy stone dropped into a tranquil pond. Weeks of intuition, of silent doubts, now confirmed in a single sentence. Yet, amidst your own turmoil, you ache for him, realizing the depth of his happiness at the prospect of fatherhood, now shattered by this revelation.

“Deiji lied,” he exhales, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and acceptance. Despite the gravity of the situation, there’s an odd calmness in his demeanor, tinged with a hint of subdued sorrow, as if he’s come to terms with the betrayal.

“Wait, that means…” You pause, the realization dawning on you slowly, each piece falling into place like a puzzle.

“Yeah, she cheated on me,” he utters, his voice laced with a complex blend of anger and sorrow, the betrayal still fresh in his mind.

Tenderly, you cup his cheek, your touch conveying volumes of empathy. “Jimin, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice a soft balm to his wounded heart.

He shakes his head gently, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet strength despite the storm raging within him.

You shake your head adamantly, the weight of his pain echoing in your heart. “No, it’s not. Cheating is never okay,” you assert, your voice firm with conviction. “And I know how much you looked forward to becoming a father.”

You envelop him in a tight embrace, seeking solace in each other’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your words laden with empathy and understanding, as if trying to absorb his pain into your own being.

His hands find your back, his touch gentle yet seeking solace in the familiarity of your embrace. It's a moment of silent understanding, where words aren’t needed, just the reassurance of each other’s presence.

He draws back, his gaze sincere as he speaks, “It’s okay. I never wanted her. It’s always been you, and I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, dating her just to spite you. I’m sorry for that. But you’re the one who matters to me.” His words hang in the air, heavy with honesty and a newfound clarity.

As his bottom lip quivers, you draw him closer, pressing your lips against his in a reassuring kiss. “It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmur softly against his mouth. “I forgive you, okay?” The warmth of your embrace envelops him, offering solace in the midst of his turmoil.

Tears glisten in his eyes as he sniffles, his nod a silent acknowledgment of your forgiveness. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “With how I behaved, I know I don’t deserve your love. But I’m grateful to have it.” His admission lays bare his vulnerability, underscoring the depth of his appreciation for your understanding and acceptance.

You tenderly stroke his head, guiding him into the embrace of your chest, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s presence. Both of you have your share of mistakes, and it’s not solely his burden to carry. You’ve reconciled before, acknowledging past errors, and now, in this intimate moment, you reaffirm your forgiveness. As you hold him closer, you silently convey reassurance, promising that together, you’ll weather any storm that comes your way.

You linger in that comforting embrace for what feels like an eternity, finding solace in each other’s presence amidst the tumult of emotions. However, as the minutes pass, your mind drifts back to the charred remnants of your home, now a haunting memory etched in the flames’ aftermath. The uncertainty gnaws at your heart, casting doubt on the notion of having a place to call home, leaving you grappling with a profound sense of loss and displacement.

As you hold Jimin close, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence, a pressing question weighs on your mind like a heavy stone. “Jimin?” you murmur, feeling the subtle shift of his movements against you. “How badly... how badly was the ranch burned?” The words hang in the air, laden with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the flickering flames that devoured everything in their path, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

As Jimin eases back, his eyes meet yours, revealing the toll of the recent turmoil etched upon his features. “Almost the entirety of the house is gone,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of sorrow, “but everything else remains unscathed.”

Your heart plummets, and the once bright smile on your face fades into a grim realization. It's the nightmare you dreaded, the cherished sanctuary of your childhood now reduced to ashes, swallowed by the unforgiving flames.

“So I have nowhere to live?” You voice the question, its timidity echoing in the sterile confines of the room, laden with uncertainty and a hint of despair.

“You’re welcome to stay with me. All of you,” he offers, his voice a comforting embrace, as soothing as a summer's night. The words wash over you, a balm to your uncertainty, and you find solace in the idea of sharing a home with your boyfriend, if only temporarily while your beloved ranch is rebuilt.

“I’d love that, thank you,” you beam at him, drawing close for another kiss. As his arms envelop you, you feel a rush of warmth, reassurance flooding your senses. In that moment, locked in each other’s embrace, you realize with certainty that amidst the ashes of your past, a new beginning awaits, and everything, somehow, will be alright.

You, your sister, and your stable hands have all relocated to Jimin and Jungkook’s ranch while yours undergoes reconstruction. Several months have passed, and living in your boyfriend’s abode has proven to be a delightful experience. Jimin has effortlessly woven you into the fabric of his life, making you feel cherished and embraced at every turn. Together with Jungkook, they’ve played the role of hosts and chefs, dishing out delicious meals that have become cherished memories, a testament to the warmth and hospitality that permeate every corner of their home.

It’s as if you’ve found your true home, and you start to wonder if maybe home isn’t defined by a location, but by a sensation, a warmth nestled within your heart. It’s the feeling that envelops you when you’re surrounded by those you hold dear, a sense of belonging that transcends physical boundaries.

Despite the comfort and warmth you’ve found in this temporary haven, your heart yearns for the day your own ranch will be restored to its former glory. With just a month or two remaining until completion, the anticipation bubbles within you like an eager child awaiting Christmas morning.

“Do you look forward to moving back home?” Jimin’s voice breaks through the tranquility of the moment, drawing your attention away from the serenity of the couch. His fingers intertwine with yours, a gesture so familiar and comforting. His question hangs in the air, stirring something within you as you ponder the imminent return to your beloved ranch.

You shift your focus to him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. A soft smile graces your lips as you wrestle with your thoughts. “It’s a bit of a mixed bag,” you confess, your tone tinged with uncertainty.

You nestle closer to him, your gaze drifting down to his velvety lips, tempting and inviting. “I’ve grown to love it here,” you murmur, your voice soft with affection. “It feels like home, with you.” 

Pausing, you meet his gaze again, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Yet, there’s a different kind of warmth waiting for me back at our ranch. I miss that familiarity too.”

As he nods, his gaze deepens, hinting at unspoken desires. Drawing closer, your lips meet in a passionate embrace, igniting a rush of sensations. You press into the kiss, a hunger driving you to explore deeper, to savor the intoxicating taste of him. His tongue envelops you, a blend of sweetness and longing, leaving you craving more with each kiss of his soft lips.

With a shared laugh, you both pull back, locking eyes filled with a mix of affection and mirth. The moment lingers, a silent understanding passing between you as you bask in the warmth of each other.

“I’m thrilled you feel at home here. Having you by my side every night is beyond amazing,” he confesses, his eyes shimmering with adoration, his smile speaking volumes. You're drawn to him like a magnet, leaning in for another kiss. While you’ll miss the nights spent together, there’s comfort in knowing you have a few more months to cherish these moments before returning home.

Amidst the kiss, he chuckles softly and breaks away, “As much as I’m loving this, we’ve got work to do. Remember we have to put hay into the stalls while the horses are out?”

You chuckle, realizing you've been indulging in too much couch time, wrapped up in kisses and embraces rather than tending to your responsibilities. “You’re right,” you agree, rising from the couch. “Time to get back to work. Let’s do it.”

You both stand up, Jimin's hand fitting perfectly into yours as you stride out of the house together, heading towards the expansive stables. 

Amidst the rustic charm, you locate the towering stacks of hay tucked at the back. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the task, filling your wheelbarrow with fragrant hay. Laughter bubbles between you, turning the chore into a playful competition, each of you determined to fill the wheelbarrow faster than the other.

With a victorious grin, you complete the task first, playfully teasing Jimin by sticking your tongue out as you seize the wheelbarrow and start pushing it down the aisle of the barn. Jimin, undeterred, swiftly grabs another wheelbarrow, determined to catch up, his movements swift and purposeful as he gathers hay, his competitive spirit ignited by your playful challenge.

In the bustling aisle of the barn, he leaps into action beside you, tossing bundles of hay into each stall with practiced ease. Amidst the flurry, a clump of hay finds its way into his blonde locks, prompting a mischievous glint in his eye as you yelp, attempting to evade him. With a playful smirk, he retaliates, clutching a sizable heap of hay and closing in on you, his laughter blending with yours in the echoing space of the barn.

“No, no, babe!” You giggle, attempting to evade Jimin’s playful assault with the hay, but he’s determined, closing in on you until you’re backed into a corner. 

With a mischievous grin, he launches the hay into the air, creating a whimsical downpour that envelops you like a gentle rain shower. As the golden strands settle around you, you’re captivated by the intensity in his eyes, darkened with desire. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he presses his thigh against your core, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

He stands before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’s just sprinted a marathon, yet you both know he hasn’t moved a muscle. His proximity is suffocatingly close, his breath warming your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, teasing but not quite touching. 

You seize his chiseled jaw with an urgency born of desire, yanking him down towards you, your lips crashing together in a fervent collision of passion. The kiss is fierce, a whirlwind of hunger and longing, leaving no room for hesitation or restraint. Each movement is charged with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, as if you’re trying to convey a lifetime of love and longing in that single, electric moment.

As you delve deeper into the kiss, a surge of arousal courses through your veins, electrifying every inch of your being. His responding moan resonates within your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a firestorm of passion within you. It’s as if you’re suspended in mid-air, enveloped by the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours, lost in a realm where time stands still and the world fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a symphony of desire.

“You taste so damn good, always,” he pants between heated breaths, his fingers entangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine with each gentle stroke. His gaze is intense, brimming with an insatiable hunger that mirrors your own, igniting an inferno of desire that threatens to consume you both. Every fiber of your being aches for him, your body responding eagerly to his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins like wildfire. It’s a testament to his prowess, his ability to awaken your senses with just a glance, leaving you trembling with longing and your desire pooling in your panties, aching for his touch.

“You too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, the words laden with unspoken longing and affection as you rest your hands on his sturdy chest. His black t-shirt clings to his muscles in all the right places, accentuating every contour and ripple, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the tantalizing sight. As your eyes wander downward, you can’t help but notice the subtle bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, igniting a fierce heat within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

“Jimin, I…” you gasp for breath, your chest heaving with desire as your eyes lock with his, burning with an intensity that mirrors the inferno raging within you. Every fiber of your being aches with longing, your body yearning for his touch, his embrace, his everything.

With a silent understanding passing between you, he nods knowingly, seizing your hand and pulling you with a sense of urgency back down the aisle, toward the towering haystacks. Each step quickens your pulse, anticipation electrifying the air as you follow him into the room with the hay, ready to lose yourselves in the haystacks and each other.

Amidst the scattered hay surrounding the towering bales, Jimin guides you down into the soft bed of straw, eliciting giggles as you sink into its fluffy embrace. Though the itch of the hay tickles your skin, it’s a minor nuisance compared to the thrill of Jimin’s weight pressing down on you, his lips tracing a fiery path along your neck. Each kiss and gentle nip leaves a tantalizing mark and you can’t help but giggle beneath him.

His thigh presses firmly between your legs, teasingly close to where you ache for him most. A soft whimper escapes your lips, a symphony of desire harmonizing with each tender caress of his mouth against your neck.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as your hands glide over Jimin’s hips, deftly unfastening his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With each movement, you feel the urgency building within you, a primal need igniting every nerve ending. His low moan reverberates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but reciprocate, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer. As he grinds against you, your gaze locks with his, a silent promise of desire burning between you.

The intensity of your desire surges through every fiber of your being, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be satisfied. With trembling fingers, you tease at the waistband of his boxers, the anticipation electrifying the air between you. “Jimin,” you murmur, your voice thick with longing, “I want you to fuck me. I need you so bad.” Each word drips with urgency, a fervent plea for the release of the burning desire that consumes you both.

As he withdraws from the tender caress of your neck, his eyes lock onto yours, capturing the raw intensity of your lust. The delicate skin of your neck, adorned with the marks of his fervent affection, serves as a testament to the passion that courses between you. A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips, echoing the primal yearning that consumes you both.

His gaze mirrors your own urgency, reflecting the unbridled desire that courses through both of you. With a fervent hunger burning in his eyes, he reaches up, his touch gentle yet charged with longing, as his fingertips trace the contours of your cheek. “Fuck, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with anticipation and longing.

Your fingers deftly navigate the fabric, eagerly removing any barrier between you and him. As his boxers pool around his knees, his hardened dick springs free, standing proudly before you, a tantalizing promise of pleasure. The sight of him, flushed and ready, sends a surge of desire coursing through you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire, as you admire his girthy and veiny cock; the head is red and glistening with precum. The thought of feeling him inside you again ignites a fire within you, fueling your craving for him even more.

As your fingers stoke his dick, eliciting a gratifying hiss from Jimin, he reciprocates the fervor by deftly undoing your pants. Sensing the urgency in his touch, you relinquish your hold on him, allowing him to eagerly strip away the barriers between you. With a sense of urgency, he slides down your pants and panties.

“Babe, you’re already dripping,” his voice, a husky whisper, sends shivers down your spine as his eyes widen with desire. The intensity of his gaze ignites an inferno within you, fueling your longing for him. Unable to contain your desire any longer, you arch your hips upward, a silent plea for him to fulfill your burning need.

“Yeah. I just want you so bad,” you murmur between desperate kisses, your fingers curling into his shirt as you draw him closer. A surge of longing courses through you as you feel his dick pressing against your heated pussy. With each tantalizing movement of his hips, his cock brushes against your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your grip on his arms tightens, your nails digging into his skin, as you lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch.

“Fuck that’s good,” you gasp, your breath hitching with each delicious stroke of his cock against your folds and clit. Every movement sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire of desire within you. Your senses are overwhelmed with the intoxicating blend of arousal and anticipation, leaving you trembling with need. As much as the friction against your most sensitive areas drives you wild, the ache for him to be inside you grows stronger with each passing moment.

His touch sends shivers down your spine as his fingers glide over your cheek, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the hunger coursing through him. 

“So wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp, filled with desire and need.

Your breath hitches as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself fully to him amidst the scattered hay, the remnants of clothing forgotten in the heat of the moment. Jimin'’s relentless grinding ignites a fervor within you, eliciting desperate cries of pleasure. But as your senses reel, you seize his movements, locking eyes with him in a primal plea. “Jimin,” you gasp, urgency lacing your voice, “I need you inside me—right now.”

His chuckle dances in the air, teasingly playful, as he savors your eagerness. “So impatient. But I want to take my time with you,” he muses, his voice a velvet caress that stirs desire. His playful pout almost breaks your resolve, but the ache between your thighs demands satisfaction. Your core pulses with anticipation, craving the exquisite fullness only he can provide; you need him to fill you up, feel the stretch of him, the tingles he gives you, oh so fucking delicious.

“You can take your time, once you’re inside me my love,” you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper that ignites a fire in his eyes. Cupping his cheeks, you draw him into a passionate kiss, your urgency urging him to fulfill your craving. He nods, his desire mirroring yours as he relinquishes the teasing of your clit, his focus shifting to the imminent union of your bodies.

His cock glistens with the slickness of your arousal, from all the rubbing he did to your clit. With a hand, he guides his dick, teasing your entrance with its velvety heat, each touch sending a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Jimin,” your breath catches in your throat as he teases your entrance again, your voice a soft warning in a hiss, urging him to take you fully. His chuckle, accompanied by that endearing display of crooked teeth you adore, is all the reassurance you need before he presses into your welcoming warmth, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body.

Gradually, he eases himself into you, each inch a tantalizing stretch that sets your nerves ablaze. Your arousal has left you slick and ready, no sting, only the exquisite sensation of being completely filled. When he finally reaches the hilt, his disheveled hair framing his face in a tantalizing manner, he already appears thoroughly ravished by the desire coursing through him.

His breath hitches as he withdraws entirely, the intensity of his desire evident in the way he swiftly realigns and thrusts back inside you with force.

You moan his name, fingers digging into his biceps as you plead, “Harder, babe.”

Jimin complies, but his pace remains deliberate. He did say he wanted to take his time with you. Each thrust is deliberate, unhurried, yet filled with a sensuality that drives you relentlessly toward the edge of ecstasy.

With every thrust, he emits a low grunt, his nose scrunching in concentration, a sight that makes you smile because you think it looks so damn cute and it makes your heart flutter with love.

An incessant itch prickles at your back, a reminder of the hay strewn beneath you. You silently thank the fabric of your shirt for shielding you, sparing you from the discomfort that would surely ensue if it weren’t there. 

In the silence that envelops you both, your eyes lock in a wordless exchange brimming with intimacy. No words are needed as you bask in the profound connection between you. His presence alone speaks volumes, echoing the depth of your union. Each of his deliberate thrusts plunges you into a realm of ecstasy, delving deeper until he finds that sweet spot, igniting sensations that curl your toes and leave you gasping for more.

His breaths come in ragged pants, matching the rhythm of his deliberate thrusts—each one deep, hard, and achingly slow. You sense his awareness of the way your walls clench around him, urging him on. With a voice strained with desire, he murmurs, “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, the word barely escaping your lips as your body writhes beneath him, consumed by the intoxicating rush of pleasure.

His fingers dance over your pulsating clit, each stroke synchronized perfectly with his deep, rhythmic thrusts, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With every delicate touch on your small bundle of nerves, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of a climax as your breath quickens.

“Come on my cock,” he urges, his voice a husky command that sends shivers down your spine. With a firm grip on your throbbing clit, he intensifies his movements, his eyes ablaze with desire as he implores you to let go, to surrender to the pleasure coursing through your body.

His image is a sinful delight, with his tousled blonde locks framing his sweaty face, his dick lodged inside you electrifying, and his skilled fingers orchestrating ecstasy on your throbbing clit. It’s overwhelming, the sensation building inside you, simmering for what feels like an eternity until you finally surrender. With a primal whimper, you give in to the release, your body convulsing in pleasure as you climax around his cock.

“Fuck,” breathless and trembling, you pant, feeling him withdraw his fingers from your throbbing clit, yet continuing his languid, deep, and unhurried thrusts. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite your disheveled state, he chuckles softly, but you find solace in his amusement, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters.

Lost in a haze of lust, you fail to register the creak of the door opening until it’s nearly too late.

“I just have to find my jacket, I think I left it here somewhere,” your heart skips a beat as Hoseok’s voice echoes through the stables, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Wide-eyed, you let out an involuntary moan, still gasping for air, and your gaze shoots to Jimin, his girthy cock still buried deep inside your pussy.

You witness the panic reflected in Jimin’s widened eyes, attempting to push him away in haste. But before you can utter a word, he leans in closer, applying gentle pressure to silence you, his hand enveloping your mouth as he breathes a hushed “Shhh.”

As the tension thickens, you wonder if Jimin truly grasps the gravity of the situation. The sounds of Hoseok and Yoongi echo through the stables, each footstep amplifying your anxiety. The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine – the potential fallout from such an encounter is enough to make your heart race. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Jimin remains a statue beside you, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of uncertainty. Together, you hold your breath, silently praying for the imminent danger to pass unnoticed.

He stills inside you, not moving an inch. All you can do is hope that they don’t notice you and that they find Hoseok’s jacket fast.

The tension mounts as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “Why is there hay scattered everywhere? And the wheelbarrows out on the aisle, that ain’t safe,” his mumble sends a chill down your spine, amplifying the urgency of your predicament. 

Each step he takes feels like a countdown to potential disaster, and you find yourself holding your breath, praying for a miracle to spare you from discovery.

“Are you sure you left it here?” Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of irritation, slicing through the tension like a knife. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, a chuckle escapes you, a tiny spark of levity in the midst of chaos. But that innocent sound proves costly, as Jimin’s dick shifts inside you, coaxing a soft moan from your lips, muffled by his warm and gentle hand. 

Then, as if time itself holds its breath, silence descends like a heavy shroud, enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. You hold your own breath, a silent prayer echoing through the chambers of your mind, pleading with the universe to spare you this embarrassment. The only sound is the frantic thud of your heart, each beat a drumroll of impending doom. You strain your ears, every nerve on edge, listening for the slightest hint of movement. Finally, the faint shuffle of feet reaches your ears, a symphony of relief as the danger retreats, leaving you trembling in its wake.

Jimin’s lips descend upon your neck, his touch both urgent and tantalizing, while his hand remains firmly pressed against your mouth, stifling any sound that threatens to escape. Each kiss, each nip sends a jolt of electric pleasure coursing through your veins, even as your mind races with the intensity of the situation. Fuck. Is he serious? Does he want to be found fucking you?

A mixture of a rush of lust and adrenaline rushed through you and you don’t know what to do. 

Are they gone?

You squirm beneath him, his touch is delicious and igniting a wildfire within you. His dick still rests inside you, not moving, the sensation is nice, and fuck you love it.

“I think it’s over here,” as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, your heart races like a stallion thundering across open plains, each beat echoing in your ears like a drumroll of impending doom. You strain against Jimin’s firm grip, your breaths coming in ragged gasps that threaten to betray your hidden rendezvous. With every step they take, the weight of the moment presses down on you like a heavy bale of hay, the urgency of silence now a lifeline you desperately cling to. Thank god Jimin is covering your mouth, because you’re not being silent at all.

“Hobi. Let’s go,” Yoongi’s voice slices through the air like a whip crack, sharp and commanding, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. It's the sound of authority, the kind that brooks no argument, and you hold your breath, willing the seconds to stretch into eternity, praying they won’t uncover your hidden embrace.

“Why? I have to find my jacket,” Hoseok’s plea rings out, laden with urgency, but it’s futile against the force of Yoongi’s insistence. There’s a tug-of-war in their voices, a battle of priorities playing out in the dimness of the stable. You shift slightly, granting Jimin more access to your neck, and your eyes dart around, landing on a jacket nearby. Fuck. It’s a stark realization—it’s likely Hoseok’s, the very item he’s desperately searching for amidst the scattered hay.

“We can find it later,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade, its edge honed with unwavering resolve. 

“But babe, I think I left it by the hay, I’ll just grab it real quick,” he tries to plead again, his voice carrying a hint of desperation, a last-ditch effort to salvage his misplaced belonging.

“No. We can get it later. I have to show you something outside,” he says, his voice carrying an air of urgency, a mysterious promise laced within his words. It sounds like Hoseok finally relents, abandoning his search for the jacket.

Exasperated, he grumbles, “I don’t get why I can’t get my jacket, but fine,” as their footsteps gradually fade into the distance.

Jimin’s teeth graze your neck, igniting a surge of electric desire that courses through every fiber of your being.

As the door clicks shut, Jimin releases his grip on your mouth, allowing you to draw in a long-awaited breath, relief washing over you like a wave.

Breathless with adrenaline, you exclaim, “Damn, that was too fucking close!” 

Playfully smacking his chest while your heart still races, you chuckle. Despite the tension, a smile tugs at your lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, his bitten lip betraying a hint of mischief.

With a low chuckle, he leans in to capture your lips in a hungry kiss before resuming his rhythmic movements, each thrust deeper than the last, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

He withdraws slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases, “Bet you’re grateful for keeping quiet now, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you retort, “Were you aiming to get caught? Is that a kink of yours?”

His laughter resonates, a rich blend of depth and sweetness, as he utters your name with a fervent moan, “I couldn’t care less.”

With a gentle stroke of your hair, he whispers, “You were so good at being silent babe. Where do you want me to come?”

You bask in the warmth of his praise, reveling in the intoxicating feeling of being praised. His thrusts become more urgent, yet he maintains a deliberate pace, each movement driving you closer to your orgasm. With a sense of urgency in his rhythm, you know he’s on the brink of release. Breathlessly, you reply, “Inside me.”

“Fuck. Do you think you can come again?” His question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation, his gaze smoldering with devilish intent. The tantalizing nip of his lip sends shivers down your spine, a thrilling danger you can’t resist. With a fervent nod, you invite the challenge. As his finger finds its way back to your clit, a primal moan escapes your lips, surrendering to the electric sensation.

Every touch, every caress, every moment with him is an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and longing. He fills you, surrounds you, consumes you in the most exhilarating way possible. You’re insatiable for him, craving his presence with a hunger that can never be fully satiated.

“You’re taking me so good, babe,” His voice, a husky rasp, sends shivers down your spine as he praises you again. You can’t help but admire the way his jaw clenches in pleasure, god he’s breathtaking.

His breaths come in ragged gasps as he increases the tempo, driving deeper and faster into you. The sensation is electrifying, sending you spiraling closer to the edge once more, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” gasping his name, you lock eyes with Jimin, your plea echoing in the intensity of your gaze as he expertly pinches and pulls at your clit. A symphony of sensations overwhelms you, and you’re unable to contain the loud moans escaping your lips, your hand instinctively seeking to stifle them. Despite your efforts, ecstasy washes over you once more, your body convulsing in pleasure amidst the prickly embrace of the hay, as Jimin relentlessly propels you through the waves of your climax.

“Shit, so fucking pretty babe,” his words, dripping with raw desire, ignite a fire within you as he showers you with praise once more. The intensity of his admiration sends a surge of both love and lust coursing through your veins, causing your inner walls to pulsate with a primal need that only he can satisfy.

His hands assertively grip your hips, drawing you into him, while your fingers clench his sturdy biceps, anchoring yourself in the electrifying moment. His parted lips and rapid breaths synchronize with the rhythmic thrust of his hips, each movement a testament to his escalating desire. The friction of his dick against your walls elicits a delicious sensation, a prelude to the impending climax. You watch, captivated, as he nears the edge, pleasure etching across his features—his furrowed brows, scrunched nose, and the tightening grip of his hands on your hips. With a primal grunt, he releases his warm essence deep inside you, punctuating the moment with the fervent utterance of your name.

With a few final, fervent thrusts, he drives into you, while a mixture of both your juices spills out of your spent pussy and trails down to the hay. Gasping for air, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared ardor, you both revel in the aftermath of your ecstasy. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he leans in to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

As he moans your name, the sound reverberates through your body, sending intoxicating shivers cascading down your spine. Your body responds instinctively, pulsating around him with an undeniable fervor. 

He withdraws slightly, trailing his lips down to your neck, where he plants soft, lingering kisses before tracing a path upward to your ear. The warmth of his breath caresses your skin, sending delightful shivers coursing through your body as you quiver beneath him. Though his words are whispered, they echo loudly in the depths of your being, “I love you.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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