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m4ritos · 4 months

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☆ pornstar choso! ☆

𝘐, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐𝘕 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘖𝘍, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘯-𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘦.

pornstar choso who’s just a little fucking weird.

choso seems to be extremely socially awkward when he’s around set. which is a real shame because he’s so.. pretty. he’s standing at a little over 6’4 with broad shoulders and a body carved into perfection, a handsome face with the most gorgeous features— he’s not a conventional kind of attractive but the kind of attractive you get from the art guy who smokes too many cigarettes.

he stands around. not particularly doing anything wrong per se but the way he just idles around with this tiny little water cup in his hand gets a few looks and scratches to the noggin. choso is taller than most people on set so anyone can explicitly see him people watch. usually, the sets are bustling and busy in between scenes. there’s wardrobe personnel, personal assistants, catering, makeup artists and hair stylists frantically working around him and he’s just in the middle of all the chaos with no sense of urgency.

pornstar choso who turns into an absolute beast once the cameras are rolling.

it’s really like a switch in his head flips. choso’s entire demeanor seems to shift into machine designed to fuck and give pleasure. you met him very briefly that same morning and he seemed like a nice guy— awkward but sweet. the scene wasn’t anything crazy in particular; it was a domestic type of affair starring a pining pair who finally give into each other

you can’t count how many times he’s made you cum without trying— but it starts to make you delirious. see, when scenes get really good like this, and both actors are into it as much as they are, it feels like the world around them no longer exists and they’re in their own bubble. they start to go off script and the director typically allows because often times, the method acting and improvising is better than any cheesy lines they get fed from the script. that’s exactly what happened.

choso’s cock is fat just as much as it is long, making it heavy under its own weight. it’s a pretty shade— maybe one or two shades darker than his complexion but when its hard, it’s flushed all over with this pretty mauve color. his actor profile says it’s 9 inches but it feels like its bigger probably because of the way he fucks. choso doesn’t let up in the slightest— you can be twitching, writhing and scratching from the pleasure but if he doesn’t hear an utterance of your safe word, he will not stop. choso switches positions like you’ve never experienced before; you could be in doggy with your back arched at a 90 degree angle then he’s flipping you over like a doll and putting you into a mating press.

pornstar choso who’s confused as to why he prematurely ejaculated because.. that.. never happens.

“cut!” the director calls out before rubbing his eyes with a pinch. “take 30– christine bring me a Valium and a club soda please.”

choso was so embarrassed when it happened— he let out this simple “I’m sorry.” in a low.. almost pained apology before slipping out of you, watching his seed ooze out of you like he disassociated from reality. watching him, watch himself like that.. didn’t feel like he was acting or in character to you. which made you wonder..

it felt.. a little too real for choso and that was something that has always separated work from real life for him. the line was blurred a little too well between the chemistry you and him both had— it took the intimacy to a different level. one he hasn’t had the luxury of experiencing in a very, very long time. in his dressing room he splashed his face with cold water, looking at himself in the mirror before getting a call from you.

“hi.. I just wanted to talk to you in private. you didn’t have to apologize to me back there.. I get it happens, there’s no need to beat yourself up over it, okay? If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s sweet. i’m out on the patio— the weather’s nice if you want to come join me.”

pornstar choso who’s really sweet to his costar even though he’s a bit awkward. he has a crush.

“thank you.. for the talk. I hate to disappoint.” choso says, looking down as he swirls around the cup of ice water in his hand. he finds it hard to keep eye contact with you but doesn’t really understand why. yeah, he’s a little embarrassed but there’s something about you.. his heart is racing and his palms feel clammy. you’re beautiful. “disappoint? kamo are you serious..?” you giggled. oh, did he say something wrong? you have a cute laugh but that’s not the point. what could be funny in this moment? “yeah. i’m serious..” he watches you tilt your head as you look up at him and his cock twitches back to life— just in time too, only 5 minutes left for recess. he notices a white flurry on your hair and he removes it carefully.

“choso.. you were far from a disappointment, sweetheart.. I could barely think straight.” you giggled again, feeling yourself get shy under his gaze. “I’ve been faking it for a long time for the sake of the camera but.. I seriously can’t tell you the last time I’ve came that hard, let alone in a row..” you reached out to caress his face. “Don’t beat yourself up.. you just keep fucking me like that again and again.. got it?”

pornstar choso who thinks he wants to ask out his cute costar but isn’t a fan of rejection.

high risk, high reward. choso has attempted to date outside his profession but it’s always failed. it’s not hard finding a woman he’s attracted to but getting them to stay after they find out he’s in sex work is the part that always seems to fall through. if they’re not scared off during the first week then once he actually has to go to work, it’s more than likely followed up with a “I don’t think I can do this.”

choso has never once blamed any of his hookups for their discomfort because he’s quite understanding. he knows himself that he would probably have a hard time too if he had just been a “regular” guy and never dated anyone who was in sex work. that requires a certain level of maturity, understanding and communication for that to work.

he asks you out once filming is finished and everything is wrapped up. you’re sitting in a plush robe in a director’s chair sipping on a juice box, swinging your feet back and forth as you scroll on your phone. there’s a cute smile on your face, your cheeks flushed and hair a little bit messy. you notice his presence before he says anything and he just kind of.. word vomits before you can greet him. “can I take you out.” sounds more like a statement than a proposal but you smile at him anyway.

pornstar choso who’s pleasantly surprised when you say yes.

“i’d really love that.. pick me up tomorrow at 6pm?” he’s surprised to say the least, he didn’t think you’d agree but he definitely didn’t expect you to initiate when. regardless, choso is excited. the social media platforms will be thrilled to hear their favorite adult actors are dating— eventually, it makes more sense to start an Onlyfans than it does to work under a company.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso smut

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cherienymphe · 1 year

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Basic Training VI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You were helping Christine out in the kitchen when Margaret brought her daughter downstairs. The brunette was really kind, you’d come to learn, patient in making sure you got everything right. She didn’t seem bothered by your quiet disposition, instead content to simply talk to you with no expectation of any responses in return.

When the other brunette made herself known, Christine had awed.

“Oh, she’s getting so big,” she cooed, pausing in what she was doing. “Almost a year now, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Margaret breathed, a bright smile on her face. “Steve’s already talking about trying for another.”

You turned away, resting your gaze on kneading the dough, afraid to screw it up and afraid to stare in the face of your possible future. Although, you supposed that there was nothing possible about it, and you struggled to accept that. Your chest grew tight as you heard them fuss over the baby girl behind you, not wanting to entertain the thought of that being you one day, all smiles and sparkly eyes as you held Peter’s baby.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took you too long to realize that Margaret was talking to you, and you hesitantly looked over your shoulder. They were both quiet as you looked between them, an encouraging smile on Margaret’s face as your gaze eventually fell to the little girl in her arms. You felt unsure, glancing down at your hands before brushing them on your apron.

“I…” you gestured to the dough. “I’m a mess and…I don’t know if I should…”

“It’s okay,” the new mom softly encouraged. “She loves meeting new people.”

She was approaching you before you could protest any further, and you carefully took the baby when she handed her off. You supposed that Margaret was telling the truth, her daughter taking you in with wide eyes and studying you just as much as you were studying her. She was very sweet, very cute, and you felt yourself frowning a bit.

“I’m taking her for a walk around the property,” Margaret mused, and Christine hummed at that as she continued cooking. “Get her some fresh air and sun. Maybe even let her crawl around a bit.”

She poked at her daughter’s cheeks, a fond smile on her own rosy lips, and she let out a sigh.

“Pretty soon there’ll be more babies filling up this house, and then Laura, Sharon, and I won’t feel so alone.”

Margaret said it so casually, and you blinked for several reasons. For one thing, you didn’t know that Laura and Sharon had children too, and again, you were reminded of how isolated you felt from the other women. They probably sat around and chatted with each other about these things, those three in particular maybe even watching their children play.

In the same train of thought, your stomach churned at the mention of more children. You wondered just how long Margaret had been here for her to be so casual and content with her situation, to talk about everyone’s situation this way. Then again, you wondered if it had more to do with who she was married to. With a husband like Steve, there probably wasn’t any other choice but to find happiness in this predicament in some way.

Either that or be wholly miserable all the time.

Be humiliated all the time.

Her words had you handing her child back to her, and it was then that Steve appeared at the entrance of the kitchen. The sight of him had you flinching, and you almost felt like you were wrong to touch his child, stepping away from Margaret just as she smiled at the blond.

“There you are,” he said, smiling back at her and fully stepping into the kitchen.

You discreetly returned to the dough, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“I was just bringing Sarah down for a walk and wanted to visit whoever was in here making breakfast for everybody,” she sweetly replied, and you wondered if it was exhausting to have to appear to be that happy all the time.

You couldn’t imagine Peter expecting that of you, and you looked down, thinking of that morning in which Peter had forced you to watch Steve punishing Margaret. You felt your skin grow cold as you recalled his brutality, just the sheer act of treating someone that way, and especially for something as minor as messing up food or not smiling as big as he expected.

In the back of your mind, there was a stray thought of gratitude that you weren’t in her place.

“That’s great, honey,” you heard Steve tell her, and it sounded genuine. “Especially since Y/N is here.”

You paused at that, hesitantly looking over your shoulder, shuddering as your gaze met his. Despite the smile on his pink lips, the look in his blue eyes didn’t quite match, an emptiness to them that had your stomach sinking.

“It’ll be good for her to be around the children more,” he mused, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’ll help her get…acclimated to how things are around here.”

You understood the words that went unsaid, turning back around and fighting back tears.

Steve wanted you to face your future, to stare at it head on and accept your fate. He wanted you to see the wives with their kids and maybe even interact with the small children, slowly opening up to the idea of children your own someday. At that thought, you wondered if Margaret had even come down here of her own volition, or if it was carefully orchestrated by the same man who’d orchestrated everything else in this house.

You only released a shuddering breath when they both left, and you found your thoughts drifting to Peter. He was still in bed when you’d made your way downstairs per the routine, something you were a bit better at now. You were still a God-awful cook, but as long as Steve wasn’t standing over you, you were fine. Funnily enough, outside of the night you’d cooked fish, the only time you’d come close to that was when Peter had helped you that morning.

There was a brief thought that you wished you had his help, now.

You immediately paused at that, gently shaking your head with a frown. You shouldn’t want Peter’s help for anything, even if only to make your time here easier. The hand he had in your kidnapping was astronomical. After all, he was the sole reason you were even here. As much as you didn’t want to subject anyone else to this, you sometimes wondered about what would’ve happened if you’d never gone into that diner that day.

Maybe you, Pietro, Wanda, and MJ would be almost to Florida by now. Maybe you’d be in some town a lot nicer than this, enjoying historical monuments and whatever shopping mall Wanda would no doubt be excited for. Tears kissed your eyes at the thought, and you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

Thinking about your friends made you sad, but not thinking about them felt…disrespectful. You couldn’t forget them, for as long as you lived, but reliving your time with them and wondering about what could’ve been hurt too much. It made your chest ache in ways that almost brought you to your knees, and you were grateful when Christine gently reminded you to roll the biscuits out small.

“Will I ever get to go outside?”

Your question was so quiet that it was a wonder Peter even heard it, and you looked over your shoulder at him as he took his utility belt off. So much of your road trip had been dedicated to nature and outdoor activities, courtesy of your contribution, and being stuck in this house and only able to gaze up at the stars from a barred window was getting to your head. It was even worse during the day, unable to step outside and soak in the sun.

You knew why, of course.

“Eventually,” he finally answered, slowly making his way to you. “Probably not anytime soon though…”

His word choice was not lost on you, and you blinked at him, frowning slightly.

“It’s just like with the basement,” Peter explained, drinking you in. “The same way Steve wouldn’t let you out if he thought you were a danger to anyone or was going to escape…”

He trailed off, letting you fill in the dots, and you turned back around to look up at the sky. You could feel Peter’s gaze on you as you pressed your forehead to the window, just standing and watching the outside world. You were sure that if you were let outside, right now, you would run. You probably wouldn’t even be able to help it.

However, the thought of being caught mentally scared you away from the mere possibility.

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard Peter walk away, watching him disappear into the bathroom. You stared at the door for some time before turning back around. You didn’t like sleeping next to Peter…but you’d unfortunately found that sleeping without him was impossible.

The nightmares still woke you up sometimes, and in your delirious and fearful state, it was easy to accept his comfort as he shushed you and held you. It was shameful really, and your gaze found the floor. It was usually why you took this time to get into bed before him. You liked to pretend like you were asleep whenever he got out of the bathroom, unwilling to watch him crawl into bed and lay beside you.

It was easier to pretend this way.

You pulled the covers over you, still staring at the window, and you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were in some screwed up purgatory, stuck between the traumatic events that led to your capture and your inevitable future. You were unable to go back to before it had happened, but your mind wasn’t ready to go forward either.

You weren’t ready to become like Jane and find happiness here, smiling at Peter whenever you saw him, and you for sure weren’t ready to become like Margaret or Laura or Sharon. You couldn’t imagine having a baby with the man who’d kidnapped you and ruined your life, smiling at the child like a gift instead of what it really was.

Physical evidence of just how in deep you were.

Thoughts of your nightmarish future guided you to sleep, and the next time you woke up, Peter’s arm was around you, holding you in place and attempting to keep you from flailing. Your chest was heaving, and his other hand was on your head, smoothing over it as he gently shushed you.

“You’re okay,” he breathed. “You’re safe…”

The cool air hit your face, and it was then that you realized you’d been crying in your sleep. You couldn’t stop though, because your nightmare wasn’t just a nightmare. It was real, and you were currently living it. Peter’s soft and soothing tone wasn’t doing much, and your forehead pressed into your pillow, your tears wetting it.

“Y/N…”

You really didn’t like Peter saying your name, the sound of it coming from his lips causing a shudder to climb up your spine. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping them around you, and you were wetting his chest with your tears now instead. He rocked you, gently, wiping your face and telling you that you were okay.

…but the last thing you felt like was okay.

You felt so far from okay.

“Are…are you going to make me have a baby too?”

Your voice was but a whisper in the quiet room, and you felt Peter pause. He didn’t answer right away, and the more his silence stretched, the lower your heart sank.

“We don’t have to figure that out, right now,” he whispered back. “It’s just you and me, okay?”

You sniffed.

“…but…but Steve wants the house to be full of children…” you heard and felt Peter sigh. “He expects me to have children. I know he does, I could see it on his face.”

You continued when Peter didn’t respond.

“…and what he wants he gets, right? Right?” you tearfully wondered, trembling at the thought.

“That’ll be between you and me,” Peter softly told you, playing with your hair and stroking your back. “…and we don’t have to talk about that, now. It’s okay.”

You swallowed, tearfully staring into the darkness and feeling pathetic that of all people, Peter was the only one you found yourself confiding in.

“I’m scared, Peter…”

“Of what? Of me…?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Peter almost sounded offended at the thought. You didn’t know how to tell him that you were afraid of him. You were afraid of him and Steve and every other man here, afraid of their capabilities and the predicament they’d put you in. Of course, you were afraid of Peter.

The power he held was what got you here in the first place.

Everything about Peter terrified you. He looked like an angel, but one word from him silenced your friends forever and forced you into captivity. You supposed he was the nicer of the bunch, yes, but there was something about him that Steve clearly respected, something about him that could talk you out of being punished and buy more time for you to adjust.

Your mind drifted to that day in the kitchen, the finality in Peter’s tone as he addressed Margaret. You thought about her lack of argument, how easily she’d accepted something that evidently wasn’t normal all because Peter had made his position on it clear. You thought about how at ease he was around the men who’d killed your friends, how he talked with them and laughed with them and probably thought of them as friends. Brothers even.

Yes.

You were very afraid of Peter.

…because he was both the source of your torment and your comfort.

The same man who’d put you in this situation was the one who held you late into the night, keeping the nightmares at bay. The very same nightmares that he caused. Peter was the one you turned to whenever you were unsure about anything, unable to get direction from anyone else. He was the one you hid behind or sought out whenever Steve’s cold blue eyes fell onto you.

Peter had put you in this predicament…and he was the one you needed to survive it.

It twisted you up in ways you couldn’t even understand, and you hated the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I’m scared of everyone here,” you honestly told him. “I want to go home.”

Peter didn’t say anything to that, just softly rubbing your back. It was something you said often, and even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen, you couldn’t stop saying it aloud. It was something you just needed to say, and Peter let you.

“Sweep up every last bit of glass…”

Steve’s cold voice had you trembling harder, and you kept your gaze on the mess before you.

“We have children that crawl around here, and I’ll be damned if one of them hurt themselves because of your clumsiness.”

You fought back tears as the blond loomed over you, shaking as you brushed more glass into the dustpan. Natasha had thought nothing of telling you to dust the foyer, an easy enough task. That was what you’d thought anyway, but somehow, you’d managed to knock over the vase on the table by the entrance, and you’d heard the thunder of heavy footsteps before the sound of shattered glass had settled into the air good. Even before Steve had rounded the corner, you knew how badly you messed up.

An apology was barely on your lips when Steve had started tearing into you, ordering you to hurry up and clean the glass. You knew he had a point about the children, and you did feel bad, but it was a genuine accident.

“That vase has been in this family for years,” he said, making you feel even worse. “…and one afternoon with you and it’s gone just like that.”

When all the glass was in the trash, you got the feeling that Steve wasn’t quite done with you, evident in the way he still stood by the foyer. Your stomach turned as you faced him, and your mind drifted to the basement. If Steve would punish his wife like he had over the smallest of things, there would be no telling what waited for you over a family heirloom.

Then again, you didn’t belong to Steve…and you hated how much that comforted you.

“Peter’s at work,” the blond hummed, and you warily eyed him. “…so, you’ll have to be punished in a way that won’t upset him too much.”

You frowned at that, eyes widening at the yard stick Steve revealed from behind his back.

“You’re adjusting…but not fast enough.”

You glanced around, and you weren’t hopeful enough to think that no one was around to witness your scolding. They were there but were no doubt hiding from the blonde’s wrath lest it latch onto anyone within the vicinity.

“That vase has been dusted a hundred times, and only with you did it become a broken mess.”

You blinked back tears, struggling to find your voice.

“I’m sorry, Steve. It…it won’t happen again,” you forced out, and he hummed.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he breathed. “Hold out your hands.”

You weren’t quite sure you heard him correctly, and you looked at him in confusion, brows drawn together. Steve’s face was as serious as ever, and at the sight, your tears finally spilled over. You pulled your lip between your teeth, shaking as you did as he told you.

“Flatter,” he said, flattening the yard stick underneath your hands until they were flat and even.

He tapped them twice.

“Palms up.”

If it was possible, your eyes widened further, but the fear of worse had you obeying him, and the deep breath you took didn’t prepare you for the pain you felt when Steve struck your hands. Against your best interest, you snatched them towards you, holding them to your chest. You held in a sob as Steve tsked.

“Hold them out,” he slowly demanded, and they were shaking even more now as you did.

Your palms were up, and Steve raised his hand, raising the yard stick with it before bringing it down across your palms again. You hissed this time, hands lowering some, but you kept them upright, knowing that was what he wanted.

He’d brought the long piece of wood down onto your palms fifteen times, each time hurting worse than the last. By the time Steve was done, you were a sobbing mess, your palms red and aching. He’d given you another lecture on the importance of being careful, but you’d been in too much pain to clearly hear a word he said.

You stumbled up to your room the second he dismissed you, clutching your hands to you the whole way.

Your back met your door as soon as you closed it, shaking so bad it was a wonder you were still standing. At that thought, you stumbled to your bed, tripping over your feet and collapsing onto the mattress. You knew that you should run your hands under some water at least, maybe even ask around about something to put on them, but you were in too much pain and too humiliated to do that.

They burned, and the only thing you were capable of doing was crying yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t an easy sleep, drifting in and out, the pain bleeding through your subconscious and waking you up here and there. With the form of punishment Steve had chosen, you surmised that you weren’t expected to carry out the rest of your duties for the rest of the day.

The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t alone.

Peter’s fingers were on your forehead, smoothing them along your sweat-kissed skin. You thought you were dreaming at first, but when your eyes remained open, the brunette gave you a rueful smile. The sight made your face crumble, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he sighed. “Steve told me what happened.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at the mention of the blond.

“It was an a-accident,” you choked out. “I didn’t-.”

“I know,” he exhaled, fingers gently trailing down your arm. “I wish I had been here. I should’ve been the one to…”

He trailed off, but you knew what he was going to say. As crazy as it sounded, you also would’ve rather Peter had been the one to dole-out your punishment. With his hands on your arms, Peter helped you sit up, guiding you to your feet. You couldn’t stop shaking, sobs still climbing out of your lips as he pulled you into the bathroom.

He turned the cold water on, and you hissed when it ran over your palms. Peter left you for some moments, and when he returned, he turned the water off. You noticed that one of his hands were occupied, and when he sat you back down on the bed, he gently told you to hold out your hands.

You watched him kneel before you, rubbing some salve on them, something that made you initially hiss, but his circular movements with his fingers were gentle.

“A lot of things won’t be tolerated around here,” he quietly started, and you looked down. “It’s taking a lot for you to adjust, and that’s okay considering…”

Silence descended over you both for a few moments.

“…but Steve doesn’t have the patience for it. Not like I do,” he softly told you, glancing up at you as he wrapped your hands. “I can only protect you if I’m here because when I’m not…”

He continued wrapping your other hand.

“Your responsibility falls to Steve…or Sam…or Bucky, or Tony. Basically, any of the other husbands that can take it upon themselves to punish you themselves…or leave it to me.”

Peter set the gauze aside, fixing you with a gentle look as he rested his own hands on your knees.

“…and Steve isn’t the type to leave it to me.”

More tears fell, and Peter reached up to wipe them away.

“…but you work,” you tearfully said. “You’re not always here.”

Peter took a deep breath, gently grabbing your hands. You winced at the action, and you watched him bring your palms to his lips, kissing one and then finally the other.

“Do you want me to be here more?”

The question took you by surprise, and Peter looked up at you from beneath his lashes, dark strands kissing his forehead.

“I can take some time away from work if it means helping you…adjust.”

You sniffed.

“If it means looking out for you…”

More tears escaped, skipping down your cheek.

“Steve terrifies me…and I… If I have to be punished,” you struggled to say the word. “I would rather it be by you.”

Peter studied your face for a while, eventually nodding as he stood. He sat beside you on the bed, and you laid down, holding your hands to you. The balm helped with the pain some, but it was more so the humiliation and the recollection of the act that still had you crying.

Peter stroked your face, maneuvering you so that your head rested in his lap.

“It hurts, I know,” he said, tone soothing. “It’ll barely feel like anything at all in a week.”

His other hand rubbed your back, traveling to your waist and kneading the skin through your dress. The softness of his touch was a nice contrast to the flare of pain in your palms, to the memory of Steve’s punishing movements. When Peter took your hands again, pressing gentle almost nonexistent kisses to your palms, your lashes fluttered and disappointment filled you when he pulled them away.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker imagine

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restless-mama · 2 months

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Sol Exposed

Back at it again! Encouraged by my beloved friends from the 14DWY Discord server (I love yall!), I decided to write Sol (from The Kid at the Back, visual novel) fic. Sol belongs to @fantasia-kitt and Christine belongs to me. Female pronouns and etc are used. THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS TO TKAB!

Summary wise, sometimes you just can't do what you want and think you can get away with it! Christine finds out what her crush has done to her and she wants to get even. She exposes him in at least three ways. His naughty deeds, his body, and his feelings.

Warnings: Stalking, Drugs, Handcuffs, subby Sol

Banner belongs to @arklayraven

It was late but as your typical college student, Christine was tapping and clicking on her laptop as she sits at her desk browsing the internet. A glass of orange juice sitting by her laptop. Her phone lights up with a notification. Her lamp on her nightstand was still on emitting light throughout the room. It was Sol, her current crush. He wishes her goodnight and that he’ll see her tomorrow. A high pitch giggle escapes her lips while she kicks her feet a little. If only she could confess her feelings to him. Yes, she had a crush on Crowe in the beginning. She felt it would be better off if Crowe and her remained friends. Grabbing her phone, she sends a reply biding him goodnight and reminding him to not stay up so late. She was aware of him staying up in wee hours of the night, doing God knows what.

She looks through some false nails to buy since Halloween was around the corner which is her favorite holiday. Christine orders a set of false nails from an Etsy seller of the name AnastasiasNails. The set of nails were in a coffin cut set with black lace and red small false rubies as designs.

Another thing she had to order was a costume for the Halloween party her school hosted. She decided to purchase a black gothic lolita dress. It was a halter dress with a bowknot on the halter neck which exposed the rib-shaped cutout on the back. The skirt part of the dress was laced tiered ruffle. After placing her orders, she looked out of her window. The lock was still broken, and it reminded her to look at the hidden cameras she had set up in her apartment. Some of her laundry has gone missing, like her favorite pair of panties. Also, items disappearing and reappearing around her house. Then there were a few mornings with some dried substance on her stomach. A few times she notices bruises on her neck and/or collar bone. However, she doesn’t remember a thing.

Christine pulls up the footage as her fingers wrapped around the cold glass of orange juice. She sip from the glass that consists of the fruity, tangy drink. Her finger clicking on the mouse to fast forward on the video. Suddenly she stops and watches to see someone climbing through her window with the broken lock. Her brown eyes widen and swallows hard. A surge of anxiety and fear coursed through her body as she continues to watch the hooded figure walked out of her room. Her eyes darts over to the camera recording that was in her kitchen.

Her brown eyes studied the figure and noticed how tall he was. He was most definitely taller than her which she was only 5’5”. She watches in horror as the figure opened her fridge door to take out her orange juice and twist open the top. Then they took out a pill that looked very familiar, opened the capsule and dropped the powdery medication into her juice. Christine drops the glass that she was drinking out of, onto the ground. She watches in silent horror as she realizes her drink has been spiked. No wonder why she has been sleeping so well lately.

“Son of a bitch!” Christine curses as she stands up. Her body was shaking a little from what she has watched. She was about to move to grab a nearby towel to dry the orange juice off the carpet, until the figure’s face caught her attention. The brunette stands there in shock and turns her head back to her laptop screen. Their eyes looks very familiar... They were orangey-red.

“No...” Christine whispers. She knew who those eyes belonged to. ‘He... he wouldn’t... would he?’ The brunette thought her herself.

The spilled juice was longed forgotten. The young college student sits back down and continues to go through the footage. He does leave her apartment but comes back late at night when she was in bed, asleep. Once again, he sneaks in through her window. She watches him pick up her arm and drop it, confirming that she was in a deep, drugged sleep. He pushed his hood down to reveal his black hair with green highlights and his mask was pushed down under his chin. It was indeed Sol. In the footage, he kisses her face close to her lips. He strokes her hair, tucking a strand of her messy dark brown and red hair behind her ear. She watches him suckling her neck, creating the mysterious bruises, which she realizes were hickies. Then the unthinkable happens. How could he...? He was so kind to her. So protective and caring.

Christine watches in shock and....arousal? She couldn’t believe she was getting turned on by the sight of Sol doing this to her while she slept. This type of behavior wasn’t acceptable for normal standards, yet she could not deny the surge of pleasure course through her veins as she watched him. The tip of her tongue darts out and laps her top lip, imagine how he would taste. Perhaps she was just as crazy as him... Maybe... She should get even.

~*~

With little effort, it didn’t take much lure Sol back to her apartment. They both had an assignment to finish anyways. Christine, being such a lady, offered Sol something to drink. Once they finished their refreshments, they retreated to her bedroom. Christine sat down in her chair as the taller man sat down on her bed as he drew her. She could feel his red-orange eyes trace every bit of her body. Her heart pounded in her chest as she keeps it together as she suppresses the need to make him beg. It’s only a matter of time now.

Sol wipes the sweat off his brow as he notices he has gotten hotter than usual. A surge of lust rans through his veins. He forwards his brows as his eyes bore into his drawing of his beloved. He usually could control his urges when he’s near her. Something was wrong. His heart begins to beat faster, and his pants felt a little too tight against his body. His body is getting hotter by the minute.

“Sol...?” Christine’s voice could be heard, and the artist looks towards the direction of the voice. He jumps and gasps as he realizes she was inches away from him. His face becomes more flustered. Another surge of pleasure rushed through his body, especially his member. How did she get so close? When did she get so close? The brunette couldn't help but giggle, he noticed the tone of it was more... menacing.

The brunette moves in closer to him. Her lips inches from his lips. “Are you okay...? My little stalker?” Christine confronts him. His eyes widen in shock.

“Fuck...!” He whispers. Before he can explain himself, she presses her lips against his in a passionate kiss. His pencil and sketch book drops to the carpet floor as she pushes him down onto her bed. Her hips rolls against his member through the fabric of their pants. This earns a muffled groan from the taller man. Seizing the opportunity, she got a hold of his arms and handcuffs him to the bed frame.

Sol looks up in shock at his the woman above him. “Christine... let me-” A delicate finger pressed on his lips shushing him from explaining himself. Christine staddles his hips rubbing her groin against him earning a moan from the man below her. His skin was so sensitive and hot. Her scent on her bed was driving him insane more than usual. He wondered what was going on. Then it dawned on him that he didn’t get like this after he drank something she gave him. No... his own beloved couldn’t do this right? She wasn’t capable? Or was he wrong?

The woman on top of him breaks the kiss. "I added a little something to your drink... Just like you did mine but mine is an aphrodisiac.” Christine giggles. She looks down at him with her caramel eyes full of mischief. “I put hidden camera around my apartment Sol... I know everything... And now, it’s my turn to have my fun with you~” Her soft hands moves under his shirt, pushing it up as she touches his tone torso. As if her touch left a trail of fire in her wake. Her fingers reach to his pierced nipples and strokes them with her fingers.

“Ahhh! Christine!” Sol pants out with his face flushed with red, choking down his moans, trying to remain quiet. He was panting and sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes half-lidded and full of desire.

“Someone’s very sensitive, aren’t they?” Christine said seductively and playfully, “Tell me Sol...” She darts her tongue out and swirls her tongue around his pierced nipple causing him to squirm and whimper uncontrollably, “Is this what you wanted me to do to you? To take this big cock of yours?” Her hand undoes his pants and pulls out his thick, long member and strokes it very slowly. She had to admit... She was impressed by the length and size of his erection.

The green haired artist looks up at his beloved with a mixture of shock and desire. He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen and forward. “Yes.... Yes! This is what I wanted...” Sol whines out as his throbbing cock leaks precum onto her hand. His own obsession with her was bad enough but with the aphrodisiac running through his veins took it to the next level. Without any hesitation, she pulls off his pants and boxers off.

“You’re so hard for me...” Christine teases. She sits on her heels and lowers her head over his veiny member, which still leaking with precum. Her lips parted around his wide cock and sucks off his salty seed. She sticks her tongue out and traces the thick veins on his member. Sol’s eyes roll back into his head as he feels Christine’s wet tongue swirling around the over sensitive tip of his cock. He could feel shivers down his spine while his body becomes overloaded with pure pleasure.

All he could think of was her. Her scent. Her touch. Those lustful yet mischievous, caramel eyes. His fantasies were becoming a reality, but this exceeded his expectations. “Oh fuck, Chris...” Sol gasps between labored breaths, his eyes hazy and burning with desire. “You make me feel so goddamn good...”

His needy words and pleas were music to her ears. The brunette could feel the surge of arousal shoot down her clit. Christine takes his cock into her mouth sucking him in and taking him deeper into her mouth. Her brown eyes shot up at him to meet his red-orange eyes, maintaining eye contact as she sucks his dick. Sol watches Christine takes his throbbing member deeper into her mouth, swallowing his erection with ease. He gasps loudly at the sight, like he was in a trace. He finds himself utterly captivated by her beauty and the way she seems to relish having power over him. His hips buck involuntarily, driven wild by her experienced oral skill. She takes him deeper in her mouth and into her throat, deep throating him. She swallows, causing her throat to squeeze around him, earning a straggled moan from Sol.

Suddenly, Christine pulls away. A mix of frustration and confusion could be seen in his eyes as he watches her pull away. “W-why did you stop?” He whines between heavy pants.

The corner of her lips tugs upward into a smirk as Christine gives Sol a seductive look. Her hand reaches down to the hem of her tight red shirt and slowly pulls it off revealing her breasts in a black lacy bra. She could hear him tug hard against the cuffs. Metal clashing metal. He lets out a long ragged, breath and looks at her hungrily, unable to contain the raw lust burning through his body. His mouthwatering. His eyes never leaving her body as she slowly undresses in front of him. She removes her bra, releasing her breasts from the confines which earns a breathy gasp from him. Her hand finds her hair tie on the end of her brain and removes it, letting her brown and red hair free from the messy braid.

“Oh God... Pumpkin..” Sol pants as watches her remove her black ripped jeans and panties. Just looking at her nude body, his face was burning from lust and desire. “You’re so beautiful... Please Christine. Take the cuffs off. Let me touch you. I need to touch you.” The green haired handsome man begged. His voice was hoarse. His eyes never left her nude body. They always reminded her of lava and she could feel the heat of his gaze burn onto her skin.

“No...” Christine denies him and straddles him, rubbing her wet cunt on the underside of his shalf. Sol trembles beneath her and whimpers out her name. She had to admit, her name coming out of his mouth sounded like music to her ears. “You been a very, very bad boy, Sol... I think I’m going to make you beg for forgiveness.” She rolls her hips slow against his throbbing member, earning a needy moan from him. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

“Fuucckkkk.....!” Sol cried out low as he pulled hard against the cuffs in desperation again. Metal raddles against one another. His body quivers in need. His aching cock was getting harder and hard to the point where it began to hurt as his body reaches to its limits. It needed a release. He HAVE to cum. He couldn’t even think to control himself any longer. His mind clouded by what his body needed. Their eyes met once again, and she could see his pupils blown wide with desire.

“I’m sorry Christine! Please...” Her stalker chokes out, “I’ll do anything! Anything! Just please, please! Make me come... Let me come!”

Christine giggles lowly. “So needy and desperate...” She teases him, “You look so cute when you’re at my mercy...”

Before he could respond, the brunette slips him inside of her warm cunt, earning a throaty groan from the man beneath her. A gasp escapes her lips as his wide cock stretches her pussy walls. Perhaps she may have underestimated his size. Christine forwards her brows and bites her lower lip as she takes all him inside her. Sol watched her intensely and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Guess I’m a lot more to handle than you thought, huh?” Sol pants out still flustered and desperate yet still able to give her a smug grin. Christine narrows her caramel eyes at him. She pulls herself up until his tip was barely in, she slams down hard in a fast motion taking all of him again.

“Fuck!” Sol lets out a surprised yelp as his soulmate slams down onto him with force. The cuffs rattle once again as he yanks against them again. His head is thrown back onto her pillows, inhaling her sweet floral scent. God... She smelled divine to him. Her walls tighten hard around him, giving him a hard squeeze before as she starts to move up and down his veiny cock. Suddenly she slams down onto him again and they both let out a moan. Her fingers find his pierced nipples and begin to stroke them as she rides him. She kept her pace unexpected and erratic, driving him into her cunt.

“Ohhhh fuck...! Pumpkin... You feel so fucking good..” Sol rasped out with his eyes hazy, his face still red, and his mouth slightly agape, drool starting to hang out from the corner of his lips. Christine couldn’t help but moan as his thick girth rubs her sensitive walls in the right places. He was the thickest she had ever taken.

“Ahhh...” She pants, “You know... You could have asked. I might have said yes... Instead of drugging me...” She whispers as she slams her cunt up and down his cock. She begins to increase her pace, bouncing wildly on him. It was pushing him towards the edge.

“I know... Ahhh...” Sol moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m sorry, Christine...” He sounds sincere even though he sounds so fucked out of his mind. He could feel her warm juices which are mixed with his pre-cum flow down his cock and balls. His balls tighten as he draws near his climax. It didn’t help that she was near her own peak and her walls became tighter and tighter than before.

“Ahhhh... Fuuuccckkkk...” He groans lowly. His eyes find her face and a surge of pleasure shoots down his hard cock. Before him was his beloved with her face contorted in bliss with her puffy lips parted. Her eyes half lid as she rides him in abandonment. That sight alone threw him over the edge. “Christine...! I’m going to cum!” Sol bucks his hips up wildly to meet her pace, trying to catch his high. They began to move in sync causing both parties to cry out in pleasure. His balls tighten. He could feel the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. His back arches as he releases a torrent of his pent-up seed inside her tight walls. Christine was not far behind him. She moans out sweetly as she cums hard against him member. Her walls gripping him like a vise, milking every drop of his seed. His name leaves her lips as a whisper.

“I love you, Christine! I love you so much...” Sol whimpers out his confession as he rides out his orgasm. He could feel the heat leaving him a little. It seems that the aphroditic was wearing out. Just a little.

“Y-you love me?” The brunette breaths out, trying to catch her breath. Her warm caramel eyes looks down to catch his hazy gaze. It was time for Christine to become flushed. Her heart pounding against her chest. “Why didn’t you just say so...?”

Sol sighs and looks at the woman on top of him, “Shit I don’t know... You looked like you have a crush on Crowe.” He said Crowe’s name with such venom. Was he jealous all along?

“I had a crush on Crowe.” Christine corrected him and crossed her arms, squeezing her tits together. “Past tense, Sol... Besides, I have a crush on you.”

“Wait... What?” Sol couldn’t believe his ears. She then slowly pulls herself off him which makes him whimper out in disappointment.

“You heard me... Now let me uncuff you.” Christine said as she moved to take the key from under her other pillow and uncuffs him. She assumed that he was done and the aphrodisiac had wore off. However, once the cuffs were off, Sol’s large hands were on her waist, and he gently pushes her down onto her bed. A gasp escapes the woman’s lips as the green haired man pins her down by her wrist. Her brown and red hair scattered on her bed. A blush forms on her shocked face. Sol growls lowly at the sight of her. He could feel his blood rushes down to loins, making his member erect once again.

Her caramel brown eyes meets his red-orange ones which are filled with so much burning desire. She could just simply melt in his gaze. She can’t deny her own desire, especially being held down by him. Sol leans in, their lips just inches from one another. She could feel his hot breath against her cheek. His short green hair tickling her skin. "What happened? You were so bold earlier...” He teases and whispers lowly, “Or you like being held down do you?”

Before Christine could answer, Sol crushes his lips against her roughly. His cold lip piercings rubbing against her soft lips. She parts her lips, allowing his tongue in as they both kissed passionately. Then she felt the cold metal of her own hand cuffs being applied on her wrist. All she could do was just submit to his power. They continue their heated, passionate kiss until they both break away to breathe. They both pants and gazed into each other's eyes. Sol then pulls away to sit on his heel and removes his two shirts, along with the long black key necklace he had on. After tossing them aside, he lowers his head down to one of her nipples and suckles it into his mouth.

A sharp gasp was heard followed by a moan as he swirls his tongue around the bulb. Her body arches back. She felt his hand slip down between her legs, his index finger rubbing against her entrance, teasing her and smearing his cum around. Christine moans and squirms beneath him. Sol releases her nipple with a loud “pop” then parts her thighs with his large hands. He growls in delight as he admires his own cum leaking out of her cunt. His member growing harder at such a delectable sight.

“Fuck... You look so cute when you’re filled up with my cum...” He groans lowly as he rather his own seed with his own fingers and pushes them into her pussy making Christine cry out in pleasure.

“Sol!” Christine cries out. She could feel her falls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. His fingers begin to stroke her sensitive walls making her throw her head back in pleasure. Her hips roll to meet his thrusts until he pulls his digits out of her and brings them to her puffy lips. She obediently parts her lips, letting him push his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the digits to lick and then suck off the cum off his fingers. Once they were licked clean, he pulls them out of her mouth as a string of saliva was still attached from her tongue and his wet fingers.

The green haired men then push his fingers back into her wet cunt and curls his fingers repeatedly, searching her sensitive spot. A sharp inhaled gasp was heard from the brunette. She was never able to find her own g-spot with her own fingers, but it seems Sol’s fingers were far better. They were longer and able to reach the right spot in her cunt. Her body trembled in delight. Her back arched and she began to moan uncontrollably.

“Oh my GOD!” Christine cries out in pleasure as her tight walls tighten around. Suddenly, she cums and squirts all over his hand and forearm. Sol doesn’t let up, he continues to drive his digits into her franticly, making her soak her bed sheets beneath her. His name continues to leave her mouth in such debauch manner as she cums and squirts repeatedly.

“Ahhhh! It feels too good!” The woman whimpered and moaned wildly, uncontrollably. Her walls spasm and contract against his fingers.

“I just got started and you’re already falling apart.” Sol said lowly, a playful smirk tugged on his pierced lips as he teased her. He then lowers his mouth and stroke his tongue against her clit making Christine roll her hips. A straggled moan escapes her lips. The sounds she made were like music to Sol’s ears. He pulls out his own fingers and replaces them with his tongue, sucking and lapping up her liquid gold. She tasted so divine. She sounded like an angel to him. Just like how he imagine she would.

Christine feels his then laps up to her clit once more and suck gently onto the swollen clit. She could feel electricity courses through her body from his administrations. Shivers shooting down her spine. She gazes at him, watching him with her half-lidded lazy eyes. He could hear her pants for air. His pierced lips brush away from her clit and onto her thigh. She could feel the coolness of the small metal. Teeth gazing over the flesh, he bites down softly and sucks forming a soon to be small bruise on her thigh.

“This is how I will make you feel every night.” Sol pulls back and gazes at his mark in admiration. “That’s what you will get for being mine.” He pushes her legs up until her knees meet her chest and parts her legs with his large hands. Christine moans as she felt him rub himself over her clits and wet folds, teasing her. She makes a rasped out a desperate moan, “Please... Don’t tease me...” begged Christine. Her eyes pleading him. Her face flushed red, and her eyes barely opened.

Sol chuckles softly and slowly pushes himself in, inch by inch. He could feel her slick and wet pussy envelop him, wrapping around his thick member. Christine moans softly as she involuntarily contracts her walls around him, pulling him in deeper.

“S-shit... you’re so tight...” Sol growls lowly as his cock is swallowed by her warmth. Unable to contain his desire, he quickly pulls back until his tip only remained and drives his thick member deep inside of her wet folds with one forceful thrust. The brunette cries out in bliss as he filled her completely. His hips begin to move rhythmically, thrusting himself into her tight walls again and again, fucking her hard and making her scream in pleasure. “And you’re all mine. Mine to take. Mine to fuck.”

“Yes.. Yes! I’m yours... Only yours! Please don’t stop! Harder. Sol.... Harder!” Christine moans out loudly as he obeys her command and buries himself into her in an unrelenting tempo. His name leaves her lips repeatedly like a prayer, making his heart swell with emotion. She gazes up at his face and her heart flusters at such a delectable sight. His face was contorted in pleasure. Sweat drips down from his brow. Some of the ends of his green hair wet from sweat, sticking against his cheek. A blush was formed on his face. His mouth a gape as he pants. His eyes sadly shut. She wanted to see those beautiful, lust filled red-orange eyes of his.

Her hand shot up and placed on his cheek, stroking it. He snaps his eyes open at the sudden touch, recalling that he did cuff her. Apparently, she quietly uncuffed herself earlier. “Keep your eyes open Sol... Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. I want you to remember how I look while you fuck me...” She purrs.

Her words cause a surge a desire to run through his veins as it adds more fuel to need to please her. Sol places on of his large hands on her shoulder and one on waist. HE holds her in place as he slams into her wet folds in pure reckless abandonment, giving into his primal instincts. Christine's eyes rolls to the back of her head and cries out his name. Her hand slips off his cheek and onto his shoulder, digging her nails in. The sounds of skin colliding, along with lust filled noises from the couple could be heard throughout the room.

“I’m cumming!” Christine moans out, her walls tighten hard around him earning a low growl from Sol. Her cunt gripped him like a vise and then she squirts all over his member and his groin.

“Fuck!” Sol chokes out as his pace becomes brutally fast as he chases after his own orgasm. The scent from her sticky fluids overwhelmed his senses. Her tight walls tighten around his thick cock, driving him to the edge. He thrusts into her once more until he unleashes a torrent of his seed into the warm, wet pussy and sending himself in a lust filled Eupora. “I love you Christine! You’re mine... All mine!”

They both gasp and pants to catch their own breath, trying to normal their breathing. Sol then buries his face into her neck, nuzzling her. “Mine...” He breaths.

“Yours... just like you’re mine...” Christine whispers in his ear as she runs her fingers in his green hair.

~Later~

Christine runs her fingers through her wet hair, applying her hair product into her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Her black towel wrapped securely around her torso. Sol was still taking a shower. At first he didn’t want to take a shower, stating that he wanted her dried fluids to remain on him which earned a look from Christine. He eventually relented and agreed to a shower. Christine went first and once she was done, Sol have already put on new bed sheets after removing the ones that were stained with their fluids. She felt so embarrassed but Sol reassured her that he just simply wanted to take care of her.

The sound of water being cut off could be heard, indicating that Sol was done taking a shower. He steps out and dries himself off with one of Christine’s extra towels. He steps in in view of the mirror and dries his green hair. Christine’s brown caramel eyes traced his naked form in the reflecting surface. His body was slim but toned. His tight muscle flexing in his arms. She also notices a good number of old bruises that have faded to yellow.

“Enjoying the view, pumpkin?” Sol said playful, shooting a smirk at the mirror as he dries the side of his head. Christine blushes and drops her gaze. She grabs her perfume to spray on her wrist, as he chuckles behind her. As she rubs fragrance on her wrist and neck, Sol wraps his arms around her from behind and bends down slightly to rest his on her shoulder to nuzzle her neck. She could feel his bare chest on her back, his hot breath on her neck.

“Hmm...” He inhales her scent, rubbing her nose against her tender flesh. “No wonder why you always smelled so good...”

Christine could feel him getting semi-hard and she elbows him gently. “Behave yourself. Sol.”

A low chuckle emits from his throat, and he kisses her temple. “For now... But I’m pretty sure you’re hungry. What does my soulmate wanna eat?”

“Soulmate, huh?” Christine giggling and turns around to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close, “Surprise me. I always enjoy your cooking. Just don’t spike my orange juice again...”

Sol laughs and picks her up to kiss her lips. He knows that she’s not going to let him hear the end of it.

#the kid at the back vn #tkatb vn #tkatb sol #tkatb oc #solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back #tkatb

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stvolanis · 3 months

Text

summer lovin’

PAIRINGS: JJ Maybank x priests daughter!OC

WARNINGS: foul language, religious imagery, unestablished relationship, JJ being JJ, mentions of marriage

NSFW WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, slight degradation, praise, pet names, biting, marking, overall cutesy sex

The heat was getting to JJ Maybank in more ways than one.

It started when his friend, who’s name he had no interest in remembering at a bonfire he attended with the rest of his friends, bet that he wouldn’t be able to fuck the priests daughter. Poor JJ didn’t even know who in the hell she was.

She was homeschooled, didn’t go to any parties and was rarely seen in town; having had all her food necessities at her little home-grown farm she lived on somewhere on figure eight. The only place people seen the jewel was every Sunday and Wednesday, bright and early, attending the local church’s 8AM service.

Now, jj by no means was a church man, but when this bet was laid upon him, best believe he was there bright and early in his best button up shirt, that just so happened to be his only button up shirt. His pants, perfectly starched to a crisp, and a cross pendant hung off of his necklace. The whole get-up, all for the priests daughter.

He was taken aback when he seen her for the first time. She was so different. Different form any of the other women he had ever met or seen on TV.

She was a small little thing. Dark brown hair braided with small pink ribbons on the end, and wispy bangs framed her porcelain-like face. Her eyes were a bright green, and if you were lucky, you’d be able to see them when they weren’t staring at her feet as if they were the most entertaining things she’d ever seen.

Her skin was pale, yet her face was scattered with disoriented freckles, almost from head to toe. Freckles covered her forehead to her nose, to her cheeks, down her neck and onto her shoulders that were revealed by her flowy sundress.

She followed her father around the busy church like a lost puppy, who had her mother hanging off of his arm like a proud trophy. Laylah, the priests daughter JJ was now so infatuated with, only spoken when she was spoken to, and hid behind her family like the plague was near and out to get her.

He noticed that she played with the flowery rings on her finger when she was nervous, or when she grew bored from her parents talking to random, faceless people for too long. He’d watch Laylah tap her feet on the wood tile beneath her, creating a sense of beat before her father lightheartedly scolded her for being too loud, to which she’d mutter a small apology.

Laylah’s mother, who’s name was Christine, just so happened to be a part of Popes moms’ book club. JJ heard Mrs.Heyward call her christy when they’d laugh over tea, showing a sign of some familiarity. JJ was sure to intervene in Mrs.Heywards book club, much to Popes annoyance as he knew what was going on, with this new found knowledge if it meant getting closer to Laylah.

Laylah, on the other hand, had heard tales of JJ Maybank. All of them filled with vile rumors, yet nothing could have prepared her for the man that stood across the room so confidently.

His skin was tanned, probably from all the surfing he did when the waves were just right. She wondered if every man from the cut was as pretty as him. She shook her head from the thought with a blush coating her cheeks.

His hair was blonde, and messily grown out—yet it suited him. A strand fell onto his forehead, and her hand itched to reach up and fix it, but she knew she couldn’t. She’d never hear the end of it from either of her parents.

“That boy is such trouble, nowadays.” Her mother, Christine, would say at the dinner table. “Yknow, I heard he was caught stealing from the fish-mart, Isn’t that absurd?” She’d gossip to her husband, who nodded his head absent mindedly as he stared at his news paper. Laylah would just roll her green eyes.

JJ wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was being eye fucked, so it was no surprise when that cocky smirk of his pulled at his lips when he caught her red handed eyeing him from head to toe.

He was aware of the female attention. Used to it, even—as cocky as it sounded. A quick fuck was all they ever were to him, and that’s all they’d ever stay. No one had ever come close to catching his interest, and JJ wanted to keep it that way, but you were making it so unbelievably hard for him.

He knew he’d have to settle down one day, but he had always dreaded the idea. Surprisingly enough, not because he’d have to be loyal, but because of the sheer commitment. He’d make a lousy, controlling, jealousy and possessive boyfriend…imagine how’d he’d be if he became someone’s fucking husband.

Laylah was different from the women who he was used to having one night stands with, and he he could tell this without even having to approach her.

She was sweet, pretty, quiet, innocent and obedient—but obedient in a way where he felt like she bit back her tongue a lot. Like she had a lot on her mind, but her voice was too weak to be heard. She was always expected to listen and do her school work at home, and do the chores her father assigned, but she longed to be a teenager.

She longed to go out and have fun, meet people and actually have friends. JJ knew she’d love the rest of the pogues, and she’d fit in just right. Laylah wanted to party, and maybe even drink. Maybe even meet a boy or a girl who peaked her interest—but she knew she never could. She laughed at the idea in her head. How silly of her to think such things?

This was her life. Being the priests quiet, obedient daughter.

JJ was like a breath of fresh air, as she was to him, too. They lived two completely different lives in two completely different worlds that finally decided to collide on the outskirts of a warn-down church.

When he watched her walk outside, he knew he’d be stupid not to follow suit.

She sat on the steps of walk way leading up to the church, and he watched like a creep as she pulled out a bubble-gun lollipop from her bag and stuff it into her mouth with a sigh. JJ smiled before making himself known by taking a seat next to her.

Her mouth fell agape for a moment, like a fish out of water. She didn’t know what she should say, or what she should do. Maybe she should run back inside, or run for the hills? No, that couldn’t be right. This wasn’t right. But it felt like it was.

“You’re a cute little thing, aren’t ya?” He chuckled out, fishing out one of his joints from his back pocket. She gawked as she watched him light it, bringing it to his mouth and taking an easy puff right outside the steps of Gods house.

“I-I’m not supposed to talk to you.” She admitted, looking down at the lollipop that embarrassing had fallen out of her mouth when she was gawking at him. He smiled, almost knowingly. “Whys that?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

“You’re a bad man, JJ. That’s what my momma said.” Laylah spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. JJ grabbed his shirt covered chest, feigning pain. “Ouch. Broke my cold heart, baby.” He said, smiling when he saw a ghost of a smile paint her pretty lips.

“You don’t seem bad.” She said after a while of silence, glancing over at him. He shook his head. “I’m the worst.” He admitted, though lightheartedly. She hummed in acknowledgement. “I think I’ll decide that for myself, mister.”

JJ smiled.

From that point on JJ Maybank was completely enraptured with the small girl.

He made sure to come to church every Sunday bright and early just to be able to see her, and when no one was looking, the two of them would sneak out and talk till the service was over and she had to leave with her parents.

She learned that the rumors of JJ being a thief were half-heartedly true. He admitted that he had stolen a few things here and there, but only when he really needed to. He trusted you enough to know about his troubles at home, and how stealing was the only way to make sure he was able to live comfortably.

Of course, it upset her. She hated that he had to go through what he did, and she knew he deserved better than what life had dealt him. She was glad he didn’t try to sugar coat it like everyone else seemed to when they spoke to her. Everyone treated Laylah like she was a child, and she just had to take it.

But JJ—he made her feel like a woman.

He listened to her when no one else cared to, and he comforted her in his own odd way with understanding. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, he listened to ever honey-covered word that slipped past her plump lips like they were law. He clung to every sentence, and every laugh.

He wanted to know how many more laughs she had. Besides her usual giggle, he wanted to count them all. He wanted to know what made her upset, and what kept her up at night. He wanted to scare every bad thing away. Chase away her worries and woes, just to see that smile he grew to adore so much.

What was once a bet was turning into so much more, and JJ didn’t know how to feel about it. He wasn’t used to the feeling of caring for someone ever since his mom. He didn’t want to hurt her, like he seemed to hurt everyone else. She was delicate and sensitive, and like Christine said, he was a bad man. No good for a girl like Laylah Moore.

Fear consumed JJ at one point when he caught himself daydreaming about a life he didn’t know he’d enjoy while in the middle of class.

The thought of coming home to Laylah after a hard day. The house smelling of his favorite food, roasting warm in the oven. She’d turn around with a sweet smile one her face, kissing all over him while letting out little “I missed yous” and “how was work?”. He could picture himself wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they swayed together, a slow song playing in the background.

He shook himself from the thought with furrowed brows. it was unfair. All of it. He knew she would never be able to be with a man like him—and it was a thought he’d have to shake out of his head.

But till you realized that, he’d have her in every way he could.

So there the both of them were, sat snug on Laylah’s pink sheets. Her legs were spread and trembling as JJs fingers slipped past the band of her underwear, working at her sensitive bud. His fingers teased at her entrance as her hand gripped on to his upper arm; nails digging into his muscle when he entered her knuckles deep.

Her mouth hung agape as wayward moans fell from her lips that were swollen from JJs relentless attacks on them. “Shh, honey. Know it feels good, but y’gotta be quiet, mama.” He cooed as he curled his finger, making her walls clamp around his fingers.

“Don’t want your daddy to find out that his daughters a whore for pogue dick, hm?” He mocked, his free hand coming up to wrap around the base of your throat tightly. Laylah whimpered, biting down on her lips to suppress her moans.

“Can I stuff this pretty pussy, baby? Hm? Want my cock to fill you up?” He asked, his breath leveled with your ear. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her head way thrown back onto his shoulder as she felt her end near. “S’wrong, JJ! have to wait f’marriage.” She slurred.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Gonna marry you anyway, pretty baby.” He said, not realizing what he said till Laylah’s doe eyes peered up at him. “Really, JJ?” She asked with hopeful eyes.

Fuck. How could he say no now?

“Course, s’long as you let me use this cunt whenever I want.” He replied, kissing the side of her cheek sloppily. Her bottom lip sat snug between her teeth, deep in thought. JJs fingers had long slipped away from her pussy, and his fingers that were still coated in her slick tenderly rubbed at her thighs.

“S’gonna hurt. That’s what my friend told me.” She muttered, doubts creased into a frown. JJ rolled his eyes. “Just gonna hurt for a second. It’ll feel good right after, promise.” He reassured. God he wanted to beat up the stupid friend who told her that. Making his life harder than it needed to be.

“Pinky promise, JJ?” She asked, holding out her manicured pinky. His interlocked with hers, and in a flash, JJs cock was aligned with her entrance—her juices spilling over and acting as a lubricant as he slid his cock between her folds.

His chest swelled with pride as he watched the way her eyes never left his cock, almost frightened. “Too big, JJ. S’not gonna fit.” She said, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ll fuckin’ make it fit.” He huffed out.

His fat tip prodded at Laylah’s entrance, teasingly almost before he plunged his cock inside of her with one harsh thrust. Her eyes widened and tears pricked her eyes as the stinging pain in her lower region began to become too much. It felt like she was being torn in half. “Take it out, JJ! Hurts too bad!” She cried out.

He wiped the tears from her eyes, kissing her trembling lips. “I know, shh, I know. Just give it a second, yeah? It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He whispered, kissing anywhere his lips could reach to distract her from the pain. She clung onto him; her nails digging into his back. A trophy he’d later wear when he goes out surfing with his friends.

His cock sat inside of her, and she could feel the twitch of his cock, and the way he pulsed inside of her. God, it took him everything in him to not start fucking her into oblivion. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it, and he didn’t want to further hurt her.

So, he waited. And as soon as she breathed out a small whimper that sounded more of pleasure than pain, he slowly began to rock his hips into her. “See? S’not that bad, pretty baby.” He grunted out, throwing her legs over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around her thighs tightly.

Her mind felt fuzzy with bliss as his tip kissed her cervix. Her hand reached to cup the side of JJs cheek, and he froze for just a moment. Her touch was tender, and so fucking full of love. The love he craved but was to afraid to accept. But he’d accept it for her. He’d do anything for her.

He melted into her touch, and his lips crashed down onto hers as he began to pick up his pace again. Their lips molded together perfectly, and nothing could prepare JJ for the words that slipped past her lips next. “I love you.” She said, but it was barely above a whisper.

He didn’t hesitate with his response. “I love you too.” He said, digging his face into the crook of her neck, planting a soft kiss. Laylah’s hands tangled in his hair as her legs wrapped around his waist, securing his position inside of her as she felt her stomach tighten.

“I feel weird, JJ.” She moaned, her head lulled to the side as he smothered her neck with kisses, and laid fresh hickies on her breasts. “Just let it go, baby. Squirt f’me. Know you can, baby, give it to me.” He moaned out against her, his thumb traveling down to play with her clit.

“O-Oh God!” She moaned out, the grip she had on his hair slightly tightening, almost painfully, but JJ didn’t care. He rather enjoyed it. “Not God, sweetheart. Me. Say it. Say my fuckin’ name.” He urged, biting down on her nipple painfully.

“JJ!” She moaned out again and again like it was a prayer, but was muffled by his hand clasping around her mouth to quiet her noises. She was wrapped so tightly around him, and he just barely managed to pull out when he reached his peak.

JJ’s cum painted across Laylah’s lower stomach, almost beautifully against her pale skin. Her chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as she watched JJ jerk himself off a few more times, his cock releasing a few more drops from his mushroom tip.

He looked so pretty like this. Mouth hung open as he panted, and the small mound of blonde hair that sat atop his cock was drenched in her fluids. His hair matted to his forehead from sweat, and that boyish smile dancing on his face as he moved the hair out of her face.

It felt right now. Laylah was no longer ashamed of her feelings, nor was she afraid of what figure eight would say when she would bring JJ along with her as a personal plus one at an important meeting of her mothers.

Before, she was living, yet she never really felt alive. She drug herself out day by day, like an endless cycle of disparity and orders. She hated getting out of bed, as there was never anything for her to look forward to throughout the day. Nothing to keep her going. She was just there.

And as she laid on top of his chest, tracing stars over the muscle of his arm, she felt content. she felt happy. She felt free. And most of all, she felt alive.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

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christine-ye · 3 days

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Ok maybe it's just me but I somewhat thought that Cure Lillian's pose looked a bit similar to Mew Mint's

#christine watches wonderful #precure #pretty cure #wonderful precure #wonderful pretty cure #mayu nekoyashiki #nekoyashiki mayu #cure lillian #tokyo mew mew #minto aizawa #mint aizawa #mew mint #it's definitely the positioning of the legs that sells it for me

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gingiesworld · 8 months

Text

Obsessions (5/?)

Wanda Maximoff x Rogers Fem Reader

Warnings: angst, longing, huge time skip. Grief. Fluff

Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6

18+ MINORS DNI

The last four years flew by, Wanda graduated from the local college as she constantly looked on Y/N's social media. Seeing she had been silent for the last two years.

"Have you heard from Y/N?" Wanda questioned her twin who sighed.

"Look Wanda, I am not going to be in the middle of this thing you have going on." He told her bluntly.

"I'm worried about her, Pietro." Wanda stated as he just shook his head.

"It's a little late now." He scoffed as he stood up from the sofa. "Also if you're wondering, Christine broke up with her and she has been in England for the past year."

"Why?" Wanda pressed as he sighed.

"Peggy is dying." He told her, tears in his eyes. "Y/N needed to be with her mom so she referred the last year of college to stay with Peggy." He watched as Wanda started up the stairs. "How you use this information is now on you Wanda. What you decide to do now will impact the two of you."

Wanda knew exactly what she needed to do. She needed to be the friend for Y/N, the friend she should have been all of those years ago. So she booked a flight to Heathrow, a one way ticket as she didn't know how long she would be there for. How long she needed to be there for.

Y/N had been staying at a hotel nearby the family home, not wanting to stay under the roof as she needed some time to herself as her Uncle and cousin would be there to help her. Y/N was shocked the moment she heard a knock on the door, opening the door unsurely to see Wanda on the other side.

"What are you doing here?" She asked her bluntly as Wanda sighed.

"I wanted to be here for you." She told her, stepping inside and dropping her bag on the floor. "Pietro told me."

"He had no right." Y/N spat as she glared at the woman before her. "I managed to get through losing my dad without you and I can sure as hell get through losing mom without you here."

"I am not going anywhere Y/N." Wanda told her softly, reaching for Y/N's hands. "I am right where I need to be." Y/N searched her eyes for any signs of regret, Y/N soon captured her lips in a hard kiss which Wanda soon pushed her away. "I am not doing this with you again Y/N." She told her sternly. "You are in a vulnerable state and I will not take advantage of you like that."

"You're not taking advantage!" Y/N yelled as Wanda watched her pace the floor before stopping and looking out of the window at the city below them. "I guess, you're right. I am not in the right mindset for that." Wanda listened as she spoke. "I guess I just, I can't lose her Wanda." For the first time in years, Wanda had seen some form of emotion in her eyes. "She is my mom, how am I supposed to go on without her. I lost my dad and that was ok I guess. I had mom and we got through it together but now, who do I have?"

"You have me." Wanda told her confidently. "I am here Y/N. I am right where I want to be. Where I need to be." Wanda stepped closer. "And I am not going anywhere." Y/N let her walls down and sobbed, Wanda opened her arms for her to hold as she cried and cried. Whispering sweet words to her and just holding her in a warm embrace as she cried.

At some point throughout the night, Wanda had moved the two towards the bed as Y/N started to lose her energy, tired from the overwhelming emotions she never wanted to feel again. She soon woke to Wanda talking lowly on the phone as she ran her hand through Y/N's hair.

"I don't think she is doing too well Piet." Wanda spoke softly, not paying too much attention to the girl in her lap looking up at her. "Yes, I am here for the long haul." Wanda scoffed at something her brother said. "No. I am not going to leave her alone. Leaving her in the first place is my biggest regret and I have to live with that."

"Hey." Y/N spoke softly as she tried to save Wanda from a conversation with her brother. "Tell him I'll call him later." She asked Wanda who relayed the message. Wanda watched as Y/N had gotten up and walked into the bathroom. Washing her face before looking at her reflection in the mirror. She looked exhausted and weak, there was barely any life left in her eyes. She didn't even recognise the girl staring back at her.

"Y/N?" Wanda knocked on the door after realising Y/N was in the bathroom for a long period of time.

"Yes?" She asked as she stepped out to see a concerned Wanda.

"I'm going to go and book another room but please just call me if you need anything." Wanda told her.

"Anything?" She asked with a raised brow.

"Anything but that." Wanda told her firmly, stepping away from her. "I already told you I am not going to do anything like that with you while everything is going on."

"You mean my mom dying and me becoming an orphan?" Y/N sneered as Wanda sighed sadly. "I'm sorry." She apologised as she went to grab a bottle of water. "I guess I am just not used to this right now." She pointed between the two of them.

"I am trying to be a friend to you again. I am trying to be the person I should have been all along. The friend I should have been regardless of my own insecurities." Wanda told her.

"Just go home Wanda." Y/N told her sadly. "I just, I don't think I can deal with this right now."

"I am not leaving you." Wanda told her firmly.

"Yes you are." Y/N spat. "You did it easily all of those years ago."

"Yes I did and I hate myself for it." Wanda told her. "Please give me this chance to show you that I am here now. I am all in with whatever this is." She pointed between the two as Y/N sighed, tears in her eyes as she saw the best friend she used to love before she turned her back on her.

"The hotel is fully booked and there isn't another one for about 45 mins away." Y/N told her softly. "You can take the bed and I'll take the sofa."

"No." Wanda shook her head as she wore a gentle smile on her face. "You take the bed and I'll take the sofa."

"You won't fit on it." Y/N stated as Wanda laughed.

"And you will? You're taller than me Y/N." She told her as Y/N nodded in agreement.

"I guess the bed is big enough for the two of us." She shrugged as Wanda agreed. The two did their nightly routines before settling on the bed, leaving a gap between the two. Wanda turned to look at Y/N who remained looking at the hands in her lap.

"I have been seeing my therapist since leaving New York." Wanda told her. "I have figured out a lot of the reasons I was the way I was. I know it's not an excuse but maybe one day we can talk about it all?"

"Maybe." Y/N told her. "I think we do need to talk about it all, but after my mom because I don't think I can deal with all of the grief alone."

"You won't be alone Y/N, I am going to be here for you. Every step." Wanda took Y/N's hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze as Y/N gazed at her.

"I missed you. This version of you." Y/N whispered as her tears started to fall. "This is the version of you I have always loved." Wanda just gave her a guilty look before lifting Y/N's hand and kissing it gently.

"Get some rest." Wanda told her softly. "You're going to need it." Y/N just nodded before bidding goodnight and turning away from Wanda.

As the days blurred together, the pain grew more and more as Peggy came closer to her last breath. Especially since the diagnosis, this was the worst thing for her family to watch. They all witnessed her start to fade away, the disease slowly taking her away. The soft words of love and affection were spoken to each of her family until it was just Y/N left with her. A smile on Peggy's face as she took her daughter's hand.

"I have always been proud of the person you have become." She told her as Y/N listened. "You have a huge heart Y/N, don't ever lose sight of the good in the world, in your relationships."

"Mom." Y/N started as Peggy hushed her.

"Wanda came back." She whispered. "She has changed, well she is more like the little girl I knew when you first introduced her to your father and I." Y/N wiped a tear that fell. "Don't push her away because of the past. Communicate with her. Become friends again and maybe in the distant future, you may become more."

"I don't think so." Y/N whispered as Peggy took a labored breath.

"You two are a match made in heaven." She told her. "You just need to work out the past and work towards the future."

"I'm going to miss you." Y/N whispered shakily as Peggy gave her a sad smile.

"I am never going to be too far." Peggy told her with a smile. "I will always be in your heart with your father." Y/N watched as Peggy started to lose consciousness, she witnessed her take her last breath before she left the room. The feeling of the warmth of Peggy's hand slowly fading as she walked through the halls. Her whole being numb as the world around her seemed to blur. Walking to the nearest pub and ordering a pint as she sat at the bar. The sound of the music melded in with the sound of the sports commentator on the football match playing on the TV.

Wanda entered the pub and took a seat beside them, ordering herself a drink and another for Y/N. She knew that drinking may not be the best thing right now but Y/N needed her more than anything.

"She's gone." Y/N whispered as Wanda sipped her pint beside her. "She's with dad now and I am here. Alone."

"You're not alone Y/N." Wanda told her comfortingly. "I am not leaving you, not again."

"How am I supposed to trust that?" Y/N asked quietly.

"I don't know." Wanda gave a tight lipped smile before talking once more. "I guess I have to earn the trust that I lost back. I have to show you that I mean every word I am saying because I mean it Y/N. I will be here with you. For everything."

"I guess we can be somewhat acquaintances." Y/N smirked as Wanda nodded with a giggle.

"To new acquaintances." Wanda clinked her glass with Y/N who just smiled. The first genuine smile she had given the brunette before her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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weemssapphic · 8 months

Text

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 11

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Larissa meets your roommates - and a phone call manages to sour your evening.

words: ~4.3k | ao3 link in title

A/N: sorry for the long wait (again) 💀 really struggled with this for some reason but to make up for it, chapter 12 is complete already and will be posted soon (and will feature our darlings going on their super slutty trip <3). until then, hope you enjoy and that it turned out okay! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Larissa felt so safe and so warm in your arms that she’d ended up falling asleep; her head on your chest, her feet dangling off the end of the couch, your arms snug around her waist. The slamming of the front door woke her with a start, and she buried her head into your chest, thinking perhaps that if she willed the world around her to fade away, it would. No such luck - footsteps approached the living room and a vaguely familiar voice came closer and closer.

“Hey, are we still- oh. Shit. Sorry!”

Larissa tightened her grip on you as she felt you shift beneath her, feeling the vibrations of your voice in your chest against her cheek.

“Do you always have to be so loud?” you complained, sounding groggy - it seemed you’d fallen asleep as well, and Larissa’s lips curled up into a soft smile.

“It’s not even 6 pm, I didn’t think you’d be asleep!”

“We were just taking a nap!”

“I can see that.” The smirk in Cassandra’s voice was evident from her tone. “Anyway, I was going to ask if we were all still planning on ordering pizza tonight. I’m starving.”

“I guess. When are Robin and Christin coming home?”

Larissa wondered how much longer she could keep herself out of this conversation and pretend to be asleep - your hand came up to rest on her head, nails gently scratching at her scalp, and she shivered in delight.

“Christin just texted, they’re on their way.”

“Okay. Uh, yeah, we can order pizza.”

Larissa chose that moment to peek cautiously up at you. You noticed her move and smiled down at her - that smile alone made Larissa’s heart flutter.

“Sorry if we woke you,” you murmured.

“It’s alright, darling.” Larissa’s voice was slightly hoarse and she cleared her throat, a little embarrassed as she felt the lingering presence of your roommate in the doorway. “I should probably get going…”

Pushing herself into a seated position, she smoothed her dress and ran a hand subconsciously over her updo. She felt you shift beside her, resting your cheek on her shoulder and placing an arm around her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Do you have to go?” you mumbled into her shoulder. Larissa’s heart clenched at the undertone of neediness in your voice, and she felt the familiar gnawing sense of guilt in her stomach at everything that had transpired in the past 24 hours.

“You should stay,” Cassandra chimed in. Larissa’s gaze snapped over to the young woman and was met with wide brown eyes that watched her curiously. “I mean, Y/N seems to really like you. It would be cool to get to know you.” She shrugged, leaning against the door frame as her eyes flicked between Larissa and you.

Larissa looked down at you for your reaction. “It would be cool,” you agreed softly. “But I know you’re not feeling well so it’s okay if you just wanna go home.”

She supposed it would be important to get to know your roommates - and despite how tired she was, she was craving your company now more than ever. So she wrapped an arm around your waist and smiled at Cass. “Thank you for the invite. I would love to stay for the evening.” Larissa didn’t miss your beaming grin, or the way you squeezed her tighter.

Cass left the two of you alone and padded off to her room. The moment she was gone you had Larissa pressed against the back of the sofa, straddling her lap and pressing your lips to hers in a searing kiss that took her breath away and drew a soft groan from her throat. She rested her hands on your waist, kissing you back eagerly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, punctuating your words with kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Larissa pulled back, fixing you with an amused look. “What are you thanking me for, love?”

“For saying you’ll stay.” You blushed and hid your face in the crook of her neck, your words muffled against her skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I know it’s not the best time and you’re tired and maybe you just want to go back to Nevermore but-”

“Darling.” Larissa took your chin gently between her fingers and guided you to look at her. She felt her heart soar at the care and worry for her own well-being that she saw reflected in your eyes. “I want to be here with you. Your friends are important to you and I think it’s time I met them properly.”

“Okay,” you murmured with a smile. “Still, thank you.”

~~~

Robin and Christin came home shortly thereafter and the five of you ordered pizza. It wasn’t long before you were squished together on the couches, chowing down and chatting.

Larissa could tell why you liked your roommates so much. Watching you interact with them made her feel a wistful sort of grief for her own past experiences - how nice it had been when she’d come to Nevermore and met her new roommate, the beautiful and witty and mysterious Morticia. Oh, how they’d hit it off in the beginning, thick as thieves, becoming the best of friends… becoming more. And then Morticia had changed. When she found Gomez, it was like Larissa had become nothing but a toy to her. Instead of coming back to her dorm after a day of classes, excited to gossip and giggle and snuggle like in those early years at Nevermore, she would enter her room with a feeling of dread, never knowing if she’d find her roommate cozied up to Gomez, or perhaps getting ready for some party that Larissa hadn’t been invited to.

In spite of her own heartache, she couldn’t help but smile as she watched the four of you joke around, happy that you’d managed to find people who seemed to truly care about you.

The way that Christin clung to Robin, resting her head on Robin’s shoulder as they sat on one end of the larger sofa, emboldened Larissa, who found herself subconsciously reaching for your hand and wiggling her fingers in between yours.

You turned to her with a look of surprise on your face and Larissa couldn’t help but grin. With a brief glance at your roommates who were locked in a heated debate about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, Larissa raised her thumb to the corner of your mouth and swiped at a drop of pizza sauce, the pad of her thumb lingering on your lip for just a moment, before she lifted her thumb to her mouth and sucked it between her lips. Larissa let out the faintest of hums to tease you, heat pooling in her core as she watched your pupils dilate, your gaze fixed on her lips.

“Jesus, you guys are worse than Robin and Christin,” Cassandra whined, pulling both you and Larissa back to the present. Larissa felt her cheeks grow warm, smiling sheepishly as you mouthed an apology before turning to your roommate.

“You’re just bitter because you’re single,” you said - the brunette shot a withering glare in your direction.

“How would you like it if I brought a guy home and-”

“It’s different if it’s a man,” Christin interrupted with a playful eyeroll, you and Robin quickly agreeing as Cassandra huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re the one who agreed to live with a bunch of lesbians,” Robin said with a grin.

“Well Y/N used to be on my side,” Cassandra grumbled. “Before she met Larissa.” Her gaze landed on the blonde, her lips quirking up into a devilish grin - Larissa could feel her face grow warmer still.

“Leave Larissa out of this,” you protested.

“I’m right here, you know,” she murmured, unable to hide the wide smile that was beginning to stretch across her face.

“Don’t worry, we like you. But Y/N has turned into such a simp since she met you.”

Your other roommates agreed and Larissa looked down at you, amused to see that your cheeks were glowing just as red as hers felt.

“Moving on,” you said, clearing your throat. “Whose turn is it to choose what movie we watch?”

~~~

After pizza, Larissa agreed to stay for a movie - you were glad your roommates hadn’t sent her running for the hills (yet), and thrilled at the prospect of snuggling up to her on the couch, craving the physical closeness. It was Christin’s turn to choose a movie and she went for a classic: Mamma Mia.

Larissa’s plush thighs bracketed your own, your back pressed comfortably against her front and your head resting back against her shoulder. One of Larissa’s hands was splayed across your abdomen, pulling you snugly into her, the other hand resting on your hip as her thumb lazily stroked your curves. You could feel yourself slowly melting into your partner, as if your bodies belonged together, fitting like puzzle pieces. Larissa was warm and soft and oh so comforting, your brain going slightly fuzzy as you relished in the sensation of her breath on your cheek and her legs brushing against yours, enveloped completely in the scent and feeling of her.

A soft buzzing could be heard and Larissa’s hand left your hip, shifting you aside slightly to reach down into her purse next to the couch. With a glance at her phone screen, a sigh escaped her lips and she pressed a quick kiss to your temple before wiggling out from underneath you, whispering, “I’ll just be a minute.”

You settled back onto the couch as Larissa padded into the kitchen, nestling into the warm spot where she had been sitting moments prior. You found you could hardly concentrate on the movie, though, as you strained your ears, curiosity getting the better of you - it was awfully late to be getting a work call. It was no use, however - Larissa spoke in such hushed tones that you couldn’t make out a single word.

When Larissa re-entered the living room, you shifted aside so that she could resume her position behind you. As she pulled you between her thighs, you craned your head back to look up at her, noting a subtle shift in her demeanor - what exactly she was feeling, however, you couldn’t tell, as her features quickly settled back on neutral.

“Who was that? Is everything okay?” you whispered, trying not to draw the attention of your roommates.

“Everything is fine, darling,” Larissa whispered back, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. You quirked an eyebrow and Larissa quickly looked away, her gaze landing on the television - you felt your stomach drop at being dismissed so quickly. She pressed her lips absentmindedly to the crown of your head, draping an arm loosely over your midsection.

Realizing you weren’t getting any more information out of her, you turned back to the movie, but your attention waned and you found yourself unable to fully relax into Larissa’s arms as you had before. Larissa was hiding something from you, and it did not feel good. It felt as though your intestines were twisting themselves slowly, excruciatingly, into intricate little knots. It felt as though a lump was rising in your throat, making itself a home and making it hard to breathe as your brain immediately jumped from one worst case scenario to the next about what Larissa could possibly be hiding.

As you felt the distant sting of tears threatening to make an appearance, you extricated yourself from her grip.

“I’m getting water, does anyone want anything?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level, purposely avoiding Larissa’s gaze.

Robin shook her head no, Christin let out a quiet “nope”, Cassandra said “no”, all turning their attention back to the movie. Larissa stayed silent, and you could feel her eyes on you as you left the room, burning a hole into your back.

Standing in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, your back to the living room as you took deep, steadying breaths. Surely you were overreacting. Surely. It was probably just a call from someone at Nevermore about a student, routine business, Larissa was probably just tired. You were probably doing what you did best and reading too much into things. Right?

Except it felt like something bigger. Larissa seemed so stressed and on edge - no matter how often she would tell you she was fine, she clearly wasn’t, and there was nothing you could do to help her. And that feeling sucked.

Soft footsteps sounded behind you and your heart fluttered hopefully as you turned around - only to be met with the sight of Cassandra, leaning in the doorway and watching you with her dark brows knit together.

“You didn’t come in here to get something to drink.” It was a statement, not a question - you’d known each other for so long that she could see right through you. You shook your head no, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth to hide the way it wobbled.

Cass sighed and stepped closer. “You wanna tell me why you’re hiding in the kitchen instead of cozying up with your woman?”

You shrugged and she rolled her eyes in response. “Is it because of the phone call? Do you think she’s…” She bit her lip and gestured vaguely.

“No… I don’t know. I don’t think so? But she’s being weird.”

“So talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk.”

“So make her! If something is bothering her, you should know.”

“Yeah, I know…” You nodded, swallowing against the lump in your throat. The thought of adding to Larissa’s stress made you nervous - you never wanted to do that - but there was something else. What if she was hiding something from you? Would you want to know? Would you be able to handle it if she was?

“You guys get lost in there?” Robin called out from the living room.

“We’re coming,” you yelled back. Cassandra gave you a pointed look, which only served to deepen the pit in your stomach. You ignored it and poured yourself a glass of water, brushing past her to re-enter the living room, your roommate following close behind you.

You settled back into Larissa’s arms - she looked worried, her brows knit together, but there was also a hint of guilt swimming in those sapphire pools. It made you feel worse, knowing that Larissa could sense something was off, and you hoped she would address it soon.

When the movie finished, Larissa’s arms tightened around you and her lips found your cheek. You tensed at the contact - Larissa noticed and immediately pulled back, and you felt a strange sense of guilt at avoiding her concerned gaze as you sat up and stretched.

“Ah shit.” Robin stood from the couch as she checked her phone. “It’s almost midnight, I have to be up in 5 hours. It was nice to meet you, Larissa.”

Larissa smiled warmly. “Likewise.”

One by one, your roommates excused themselves - Cassandra making a point to bump your shoulder on her way out.

“They’re all very kind, I’m glad you have them,” Larissa said once the two of you were alone, tilting her head to the side and smiling softly.

“Yeah, me too…”

Larissa’s eyes searched your face, her smile slowly fading as she took in your rigid posture. “Darling, are you alright?” She took a step closer to you, taking one of your hands in her own - you were certain she could feel how clammy your hand was, and your fingers twitched nervously.

“I’m fine,” you lied, not quite able to meet Larissa’s gaze.

“Y/N, look at me.” Strong fingers gripped your chin and urged it up, your head tilting backwards. You had no choice but to look the shapeshifter in the eyes, your breath catching in your throat at the stern look on her face.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice low, and your cheeks turned pink. Her gaze seemed to drink in your expression - nervous, sad, needy - and her face softened, her hand dropping back down to her side. “Have I done something?”

It took you a moment to find your voice - when you did, it was hoarse. “I don’t know. Have you?”

Larissa furrowed her brow, her eyes narrowing - you could tell she was thinking. Hard. Then her face fell, seeming to take your stomach along with it.

A long, heavy silence engulfed the both of you, Larissa’s nostrils flaring as her eyes darted about the room - your own eyes were glued to her face, carefully taking in every microexpression that passed across it before it finally settled on hurt. Your stomach rolled uncomfortably as a wave of dread began to crest within you, growing larger with every passing beat of silence.

Finally, Larissa spoke, her voice strangely calm and level. “Is this about the phone call I received?”

“I… I don’t know. Is it? I feel like-” You could hear your voice start to shake and you swallowed thickly. “I feel like you’re not talking to me… What about Morticia? I don’t even know who she is and yet you’re, I don’t know, drinking yourself to death because of her?”

Larissa sighed, reaching up to cup your face. “Oh, love, it’s alright, it doesn’t matter. It’s silly. Please, don’t worry ab-”

“Don’t tell me not to worry about it, Larissa,” you hissed, feeling angry tears threaten to spill over your cheeks. “I am worried about it. I’m worried about you.” Your throat was getting tighter by the second as you stumbled over your words. “I want to help you but I don’t know what’s going on, I feel like you’re trying to shut me out.”

Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut, a pained expression crossing her face as she swallowed visibly, her throat bobbing. “I don’t mean to shut you out,” she whispered, letting out a shuddering breath. “Morticia was my roommate at Nevermore. She once meant very much to me, but that was a long time ago. Now she is nothing more than a thorn in my side and, unfortunately, the mother of one of my students.”

She looked as though she wanted to say more, her mouth opening and then closing again, no sound coming out. Then she shook her head lightly, her voice bordering on pleading. “I’m sorry. Please trust me.”

You weren’t satisfied, not in the slightest - your mind was racing with question after question. But Larissa looked as tired as you felt, and any fight you had in you was quickly draining from your body. “I do trust you,” you whispered. “You can trust me, too, though…”

Larissa’s eyes, blue and glassy and wide as saucers, snapped up to meet your gaze. “I do.”

She placed her palm, warm and comforting, on your cheek, her long fingers curling behind your ear, and you found yourself nuzzling into her touch. Her eyes darted hesitantly between yours and she leaned down to kiss you, slowly enough for you to stop her. You didn’t, allowing plush red lips to melt against your own - hesitant and loving and needy all at the same time. One of Larissa’s hands curled in your hair while the other gripped your waist and tugged you closer as her tongue swiped at your lips.

A door somewhere in your apartment creaked open and, becoming aware that your roommates were still very much awake, you pulled back. “It’s getting late. You need sleep. Proper sleep.”

Larissa peered down at you, unblinking. Finally, she nodded slowly and bent to fetch her purse. “You’re right.”

“I’m not done talking about this,” you whispered, half-hoping Larissa wouldn’t hear you as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“I know. Please be patient with me?” Larissa’s voice was soft and bordering on timid, and you nodded, offering her the most reassuring smile you could muster as you walked her to the door.

You watched her form retreat until she’d disappeared entirely into the night before closing the door and leaning back against it, your body tense and your heart aching.

~~~

In the following days, you could tell that Larissa was trying to make it up to you. She sent you more texts than usual, mundane updates of her day - she even sent you a voice note during her lunch break, the very first one she’d ever sent you, telling you proudly how she’d managed to get groceries and restock her fridge. In the evenings she called you, waiting until you’d fallen asleep before hanging up. You talked about many things, but not Morticia - never Morticia. It still left you feeling a little… off - you hoped she would be ready to talk soon.

On Thursday, you returned home from your morning classes to an empty apartment and busied yourself with making lunch when the doorbell rang.

Figuring one of the girls had forgotten their key again, you opened the door, only to be met with the sight of a delivery driver holding a large box.

“Delivery for Y/N?”

“Uh.” Your brows scrunched together in confusion - you hadn’t ordered anything. “Yeah, that’s me…”

The man thrust the package into your hands and turned to leave, wishing you a nice day. You closed the door and looked down at the package, your heart skipping a beat when you read Larissa’s name on the shipping label.

Settling on the couch, you opened the box - there was a bunch of gold tissue paper and, among it, a small card. A smile crept up your cheeks as you picked up the card, recognizing Larissa’s neat, tight cursive.

My darling, In anticipation of our trip, I have a little gift I’d like to give you. It would please me greatly if you would wait to unwrap it until we’re together, so I’d like for you to bring it with you. I hope this isn’t terribly presumptuous of me, but I couldn’t help myself. Hopefully you are looking forward to this weekend just as much as I am. All my love, Larissa

You bit your lip, your heart feeling like it could burst at any second. Carefully sifting through the tissue paper, you uncovered another, slightly smaller box and something softer and more compact - clothing? - both wrapped in gold paper. You pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of the mountain of tissue paper and sending it to Larissa.

Y/N: You really didn’t have to get me anything!

It only took Larissa a minute to respond, as if she had been waiting to hear from you.

Larissa: I know that, darling. I wanted to.

Y/N: Are you suuure I can’t open it yet? You’re really killing me with the suspense here…

Larissa: I am certain that you can be a good girl and wait for me.

You were grateful to be home alone, your cheeks growing warm and electricity spreading through your limbs. It was crazy just how much you were at Larissa’s mercy, how she was able to turn you on with so little effort on her part - you decided that Larissa deserved a little teasing.

Y/N: And if I don’t want to be a good girl? Then what?

Larissa: Then you would deserve to be punished.

Y/N: Well maybe I want to be punished by you.

It took Larissa noticeably longer to reply to that text than to the others, and you grinned down at your phone, imagining the principal getting all riled up in her office - perhaps texting you during a meeting, trying to hide how flustered you’d managed to make her. In all fairness, you’d gotten yourself worked up as well, your cunt throbbing with a need that you’d have to take care of soon.

Larissa: Noted.

You laughed - it had taken her a whole 4 minutes to reply with that one word.

Y/N: That’s all?

Larissa: Darling, you’ll be the death of me… I’ll call you tonight, alright?

Y/N: Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to eat lunch :*

Larissa: Thank you x

~~~

Larissa did call you that evening. You were snuggled up in bed, your phone lying on the pillow next to you as Larissa’s soft, lilting voice floated from the speaker. The clacking of her laptop keyboard could be heard in the background.

“Have you packed already?” Larissa purred.

“Yep.”

“And you packed what I sent you?”

“Yeah - unopened and everything.”

“Good girl,” Larissa murmured seductively, her voice dropping an octave.

“God, Larissa,” you groaned as heat spread through your body. “You know how unfair it is when you do that.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Larissa said coyly - you could picture her batting her lashes and smirking, and it did nothing to help with the throb between your legs. “I’ll pick you up around 10 tomorrow, our flight leaves at 12:45.”

Your eyes grew wide. “10? In the morning? Are you sure?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You could hear the frown in Larissa’s voice, the clacking of the keyboard coming to a halt.

“I just mean… don’t you have to work?” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your pulse picked up.

“I think Nevermore can survive without me for one day, love. Even principals are entitled to a vacation,” Larissa teased.

“Oh.” You were glad Larissa couldn’t see you blush. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be ready at 10.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not, I just thought…” You were unable to finish your sentence - honestly, you were a bit surprised, having thought she’d want to pick you up in the evening after work.

“You mean so much more to me than you realize,” Larissa said softly. Her words overwhelmed you - you wanted so desperately for them to be true, your heart close to bursting. If Larissa had been there with you, you’d have kissed her senseless on the spot.

You swallowed, your voice hoarse with emotion. “I can’t wait, Larissa.”

“Neither can I, darling. Now get some sleep, I want you well-rested for the weekend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied with a giggle, reveling in the barely audible snort that Larissa let out. “I love you, Rissa.”

“I love you, too, pretty girl.”

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yona049 · 2 months

Text

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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Disclaimer!

This is a story following the events after the Phantom of the Opera (2004) and only follows the movie and not any other adaptations!

Started with this fic a few years ago and finally continued bc I couldn't find any new fic's to read! 🥺

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(For ambiance~)

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Y/n stood with her feet planted infront of the burning Palais Garnier opera house, the ashes of a once red stage curtain falling on her bare shoulders. The only bit of warmth was the costume she was wearing.

A red fire dancer, her hair still in perfect shape. Tho it seems that the other staff of the Opera house weren't as lucky.

Her home was burning down infront of her eyes, and snow did nothing but usher on the burning flames of rage.

This was the doing of one Phantom of the opera. The damned demon took it all from them, their home, their jobs and even Christine Daaé.

The lead singer and great musician that made Y/n dance like never before, Christine's sweet melody made her feet float inches from the ground as her soul danced in sync with her body.

One shiver crawled up Y/n's spine when she heard an unghastly scream. Her feet simply lept to it, only to find a man crawling out of the burning opera house.

"Monsieur!" she cried out to him.

His face seemed to have already been caught by the fire and he barely wore anything but a shirt and his trousers. Y/n fell to her knees beside his weak body.

"Don't worry, Monsieur, you are out of the fire! Please, be still! You are injured. "

She trembled watching blood force its way through the thin gaps between the snowflakes. Blood still warm enough to melt and merge with ice to water.

In a desperate attempt, Y/n pulls off the bottom part of her dancing grown and desperately looked for the point of injury when she finally found the wound on the calve on his leg.

Tieing it tightly before Y/n hoisted him up to his feet.

"Please lean on me, we need to get further from the flames!"

He didn't speak, only grunted in pain. His voice was deep, without effort as if he was willing to Perish without hesitation.

Y/n took a moment to gently touch his burnt skin on his face, he didn't seem to whine. It was as she thought, the wound was not from the fire that had engulfed many others in its treacherous flames.

She shakes herself awake and quickly focuses on the problem at hand.

"I have strength to carry you, but you'll need to carry your consciousness for a little while longer!" she shutted, her voice swelling with pity for him.

'What happened to this poor soul?' She wondered and dragged his feet though the snow.

Y/n didn't know his name, nor his origin from the opera house. Perhaps a operator for the theater special effects? Or perhaps a member of the audience, sitting among the red velvet seats and nearly getting crushed by the chandelier falling loose from its hinges.

It wasn't long after when Y/n and the other performers were taken to a nearby inn. Perhaps it was the will of a greater power that the Opera managers didn't leave them to rot on the streets. Rather to reclaim insurance funds or come around a lone?

At least, she hoped that was the case. But for the moment, she was afraid of what might happen.

The opera house had been home for the last eighteen years of Y/n's life. No, certainly more!

Her father was a dancer, and her mother's legacy had been lost among the chatter and rumors of the opera.

Y/n's father had passed when she was only ten. Now, she was eighteen years older and she promised to follow in his dancing steps to fame.

Still engulfed in her thoughts Y/n stared into the small oil lamp flames while she sat on the bed of the inn. The figure of a woman danced in the red and orange colors.

This seemed to distract her from the man waking up from his exhausted slumber behind her.

He winced with a grumble when Y/n's head turned to face him. His palm covering the burn on his face that she saw before.

"Monsieur?" she whispered in an effort not to frighten him.

His gaze slowly trailed to Y/n's worried expression, but his palm never left his face.

Y/n took this opportunity to explain their predicament.

"Please, do not be frightened. We're in an inn, the managers have sent us to wait until they can reclaim funds."

She stood up to take the bowl of water and cloth to dampen the burnt flesh on the man's face.

She knelt down beside the bed and lightly lifted the damp cloth to his face. His eyes met hers, but Y/n only stared in silence hoping he'd understand her efforts.

Tho he was hesitant, his palm lightly lifted from his face. She feared the wound was still hissing with pain. Lightly the cloth is placed onto his eye and he gave a simple sigh of relief.

Silence filled the room, it would've seemed like only the stars were their witness if it weren't for the drunken cheers from the bar below.

Finally the man took a breath and spoke.

"What of Christine Daaé? Has she been found?"

Y/n's breathing seemed to betray her when her body couldn't fathom the gentle voice the man muttered. She tried to form words, creating a stutter.

"Y-yes, it um, It seems she has been retrieved by the Viscount Raoul de Chagny. She has offered many services to those who did not escape the flames unscathed." she whispered and willed herself to not look into his captivating eyes.

He looks to the side and gives a simple smile, seeming satisfied with his thought.

As soon as his skin was dampened once more he tried to stand with a gasply hiss of pain.

"Monsieur, please be patient! Your wound is still open and fresh!"

He grits his teeth before taking his seat again but looking back at the fireplace.

The rest of the night remained quiet, like he didn't have need to ask her anymore questions.

An awkward night spent sharing a room with a stranger. He fell asleep quickly with exhaustion.

Y/n couldn't sleep. Things ended so abruptly! How could she? Her love died in the fire, her home, belongings. She had nothing to her name anymore.

Y/n quietly stood up from the bed trying to keep noises to a minimum. Avoiding the creeking floor boards and opening the window to look outside.

The smoke from the Opera house covered the sky, no moon in sight. This quiet moment with her thoughts caused her throat to close up and her eyes to push tears.

As quietly as she could, she tried crying everything out, to no avail. Morning her loss took more than just a moment of soft tears.

"I'm sorry my love, Aloïs, I couldn't save you!"

She whispered. Her lover in the theater house had been burnt in the flames because he pushed her away from falling beams.

"Aloïs?"

She gasped when the voice lurks from behind her caught her off guard. The man stood up from the bed and had walked to right behind her without her hearing him.

"Monsieur! I'm so sorry, did I wake you?"

He shakes his head before spotting Y/n's shivers. Looking back at the blanket on the bed, he grabs it with one hand and swings it across her shoulders.

A gentleman! Y/n wasn't sure many workers from the Opera were quite so kind.

"You knew my Aloïs?"

He nods before leaning on the wall next to the window.

"Indeed, he helped me with costumes, more specifically Masks." The man mumbled folding his arms across his chest.

Y/n quickly realized what he meant when the dim light shone on his burnt face. Aloïs was the lead costume designer for all actors, singers and dancers in the opera. He'd certainly be willing to help a gentleman like the man stood next to her.

With a small giggle she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, Aloïs would do something like that. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable without a mask."

He looks at me confused almost relieved that he wasn't the one in trouble for once. That someone genuinely asked if he was uncomfortable instead of rushing him away and out of sight.

"You're apologizing? Mademoiselle-"

"Y/n, please."

He seems to smile before leaning closer and wiping a lingering tear off Y/n's cheek.

"Y/n, my name is Erik."

Small talk lasted for a few more hours until the sun started to rise.

All members of the Opera house were called to the outside of the Inn where Monsieur André and Firmin would enlighten them of the situation.

Monsieur André took the lead standing ontop of the inn balcony.

"Listen all! I'm afraid we have terrible news you will all now be let go from the Opera house!"

A sudden uproar of voices filled the street and Y/n felt my body wobble a little from shock. Erik stood beside her with his hand on the small of my back trying to stabilize her.

Monsieur Firmin then took the lead and explained:

"This was a terrible tragedy! And with the business in shambles we have no hope of reviving it, thanks to our generous sponsor, Viscount Raoul de Chagny, we will be giving out warm clothes to help with your resignation."

They both quickly scurry out of view back into the inn, likely out the back door leaving the crowd in shock and anger.

Y/n bit her lip feeling another wave of sadness overcome her. Quick breathing and a pounding heart for the unknown future that lied before her.

"Fools!" She hears Erik mumble under his breath.

"We must go quickly!" he said grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd to the front.

They got their clothes, thanks to Erik for getting them there early enough to take a few extra pieces of clothes.

Even with a wounded leg, Erik managed to take them to a proper alleyway to get dressed in the clothing.

He dressed first, then stood at the front of the ally to let Y/n get dressed keeping a look out.

A gentleman walked by peeping into the alleyway, but Erik growled loudly and with his burnt face scared the gentleman away.

"I'm done!"

Y/n smiled walking out with the costume she wore neatly folded in her arms.

Erik seemed to smile at her for a very small second then it quickly fell away, he brought his palm to cover his face.

"May I?"

He looked at Y/n confused until she gently took his hand and pulled it away.

"This might not be as good as Aloïs's handy work."

She looked down at her costume before quickly ripping off a piece of the skirt. She used the edges to tie it delicately around the side of his face tracing over it.

"You shouldn't have to hide! People are children! Gasping at the first strange thing they see." Y/n declared.

Erik chuckles but only for a second before going back into a smile.

"Perhaps."

He offers his arm which Y/n gladly took. They walked out into the crowded streets.

The sights were great and all the small shops and children seemed so foreign to her. In the Opera house they only had wooden or stone walls with the occasional windows high up in the building. The space of an open sky and streets going as far as the eye could see was a breath of fresh air.

A few hours later, Y/n suddenly realized that neither Erik or herself currently had a place to live, she have no living family to rely on.

Walking around the city for the first time in years distracted her from the dormant thoughts about the trouble we were in.

She looked back at Erik ready to ask him if he has a plan, but his eyes were sparkling. He was bewildered and intrigued by buildings, people, sounds and other sights. Y/n was starting to wonder if he'd ever been outside the Opera.

She felt a smile spread across her face from the warmth radiating off Erik.

"Erik, have you never-"

"Hello little mis!" a voice from behind her.

Three men quickly surrounded them and Y/n felt her body shrink into fear. Her lack of outside experience made her forget about the rats lurking around the city.

"Well, well! Give us a smile! How much?"

Y/n felt one of the bigger men behind her run his hand down her back.

She jump forward from his touch ready defend herself however, Erik pinched her arm tightly between his bicep and torso.

Y/n looked up at him and noticed the grimace clenching of his teeth.

"Now, this is unfortunate, just as I was starting to enjoy the outside." Erik fumed.

The man reaches for Y/n's behind again but this time Erik uses a closed fist to swing right into the man's nose.

He pushed Y/n off to the side, just hard enough for her to delicately hit the wall. She watched while this night old acquaintance fights off three large men with a bit of wood he swooped off the ground.

Using it to jab into the first mans forearm and then kneeing him in the groin.

Erik kicks the second man in the side, and to their luck, the third starts running. Finally all three run at the first sight of blood.

Erik breathes heavily before dropping to a knee with a loud grunt,clutching his injured leg from the fire.

"Erik!" Y/n ran to his side and wormed her arm underneath his arm and around his torso.

"We have to leave before they bring friends." Y/n stammered.

Her eyes dart around to land on a Inn with a tavern at the ground floor. The sun was setting again so soon and the candles of the tavern were lit.

She walked with Erik and quickly made their way inside to set Erik down in the corner of the tavern by a table.

"Oi!" The barkeep yells at us.

"Out!! You don't have no money!"

Looking at their clothes Y/n understood exactly how he knew we had no money to spend.

"Please! This man is injured, we need-"

He interrupts Y/n again.

"No money, no service! Out!"

Y/n bit her lip hard, thinking of anything to pay this man until she got a small shred of an idea.

"I dance!"

This makes the barkeep stop and look back at them. He leaned against the bar and waited.

Y/n realized he wanted an example before she swallowed the lump of pride in her throat.

She slowly pulled her coat off revealing a very inexpensive dress they received from the Managers.

Low cut to account for all bust sizes and too long skirt for all heights of woman in the Opera house. Throwing the coat over Erik she leaned close to his ear to whisper.

"Hold on, I'll get more help and medicine for that leg."

He groans grabbing Y/n's arm, objecting to what he knew she'd do. She felt her heart want to cry at his genuine worry for her pride. She gently lifts his hand off before turning back to the bar keep.

She looked down at her skirt before lifting it and tieing it into a knot showing just above her knees.

The musician with a pocket fiddle in the corner starts playing a rhythmic song and patrons start coming in.

Y/n puts on the best smile she could muster before starting to move her legs and hips.

Y/n felt the gazes of every drunken basted, but worst of all, she felt Erik watching her. Intrigued or Disgusted? She wasn't sure. She hoped for the latter. It was the better of the two.

Moving her hand over a rich looking patrons shoulders before spinning to the bar and smiling at another gentleman.

For what felt like forever, Y/n danced following each rhythm of each song played.

Getting a small tip from some patrons before she stopped and leaned against the bar.

Out of breath with her chest moving up and down rapidly. Another song had ended. She wasn't sure how much longer she could continue, her legs burnt from no warm up before hand like she knew she had to.

The barkeep, more likely the owner of the inn, pushed a glass of water toward her.

"Well done girl! We haven't had this many patrons in a while."

He praised but Y/n growled and reached out to him with an open palm.

"I did my part, I need payment."

The barkeep looks disgusted and Y/n was afraid for a moment he would refuse her payment. Thankfully he reached into his apron pocket and gave her a good hand full of coins.

Before she could pull her hand back he grabbed her wrist and smirked.

"Come back, with a better attitude, and you can make twice as much."

Y/n gritted her teeth looking away knowing its a large possibility she'd need to come back for more payment.

She pulled her wrist back then ran to where she'd left Erik only to spot him with an angry expression.

"Erik?"

She knew it, he was disgusted! She hesitated in front of him. He only managed to lean forward and pull the knot out of her skirt letting it cover her legs again.

He looks away but patted on the seat beside him. Y/n felt her body once again shrink in on itself as she sat beside him.

She took this opportunity to count the coins and realized they had enough to rent a room for the night and for her to go buy bandages and medicine.

Once they were in the room she felt a very strange hole in her heart, she felt like she'd betrayed him. She was sure he'd leave the next chance he got. She basically did what he'd tried to prevent in the first place.

She sat on the bed facing away while Erik used this time to wash up in the wash room and apply the medicine and bandages himself.

"Y/n."

His voice stood out from the muffled cheers downstairs.

His hand traveled to Y/n's and he sat beside her on the bed.

"I'm sorry."

Those small words made Y/n breath a sigh of relief before she felt his arms wrap her into a hug.

She'd never cried in front of anyone or at least she tried to avoid it as much she could, so how is it possible for this man to have seen her cry twice.

His chin rested on her head as she sobbed. It felt like she would never stop. Until Erik started humming. A soft but familiar tune. A song from the Opera house used in one of the famous plays.

It was beautiful, an angel of music. A voice she didn't know she longed to hear. In sleep he sang to her, and in dreams he he came.

Y/n slowly calmed her sobs before her body fell into a limp sleep and exhaustion.

Erik smiled before slowly laying her onto the bed, however she was clenched onto his shirt so tightly, Erik gave in and layed with her on the bed.

He looked at her calm face wondering how she was able to remain so strong though everything, even taking care of him aswell as herself.

Feeling his heartbeat similarly to the first time it did when he saw Christine. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and slowly pulled her into his chest, keeping her covered from all the worldly wrongs.

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vickiee-mcmuffin · 1 year

Text

Reunited

Word count: 3.1k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit Smut, Fluff? (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: Here's another fic that was on ao3 for like a day because it flopped so I deleted it. Let's hope it doesn't flop here too. 🫣😅

Summary: You have the honor of being one of Christine's bridesmaids at her wedding. But when you notice a certain person has been invited, it brings back heartbreaking memories.

You woke up with a soft, little yawn. The warmth and comfort of your bed were addicting, your soft pillows far too inviting. But you had to get up. There was no time for sleeping. The day ahead was big. Christine – one of your good friends – was getting married. And Christine had been kind enough to offer you the role of one of her bridesmaids. You were honoured by the gesture.

You sat up in bed, eyeing the bridesmaid dress that was hanging on the door handle of your wardrobe. It was a gorgeous dress, and you couldn’t wait to slip into it. You jumped in the shower, did your hair and makeup, and put on the expensive dress. Nodding at your reflection in the mirror, you then made your way to the church. Soon, Christine would be a married woman, and you would be standing right there by her side.

There was a crowd already forming around the old church building, but one person stood out in her flowing, crisp white gown: Christine. Your heels clicked on the cement as you ran up to the other woman.

“Christine, you look so amazing,” you said in a shocked whisper. It was the truth. Christine looked stunning.

“Oh, thank you, Y/N,” beamed Christine. “So do you. I’m so excited for today. The day has finally arrived.”

“It’s gonna be such a good day,” you nodded.

You, Christine, and the rest of the bridesmaids stood there talking, with time passing by quickly. Soon, it was time for Christine to walk down the aisle and marry her soon to be husband.

Lining up with the bridesmaids, you sucked in a sharp breath, ready to enter the church. The music suddenly started, the doors opened up, and you heard a few gasps. There was a bridesmaid in front of you, and you quickly followed behind the other woman, taking slow steps with Christine not far behind you. Your eyes scanned the crowd, noting all the happy faces. You noted that Christine’s family were all the way at the front wearing teary smiles. The groom’s family was on the opposite side of the aisle, also with wet eyes. But it was the man a few rows up that really caught your attention. You could have sworn you almost went stiff right then and there.

It was Stephen Strange. Just the sight of him was enough to make your heart race. Christine and Stephen had been together many years ago. He was the man you used to spend so many days training with when you were at Kamar Taj. He was the man you had very quickly grown to love. He was the man you had kissed that night, after a hard day of training, when it was just the two of you all alone in the library at Kamar Taj.

But… He was also the man who had completely and utterly broken your heart. And ever since you shared that wild, heated kiss in the library, he seemed to want nothing to do with you. Stephen had been avoiding you ever since the incident. And because of that, you left Kamar Taj, the action breaking your heart in the process.

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to focus. You looked ahead, so desperate not to see his face. You just walked down on the aisle, focusing on your job as a bridesmaid. That’s what you were there to do.

You took your place at the front of the church, watching on in silence as Christine and her future husband exchanged their vows. It was a wonderful moment that was sealed with a kiss. The crowd cheered, celebrating the new husband and wife.

Life was good for Christine and her husband.

******

You sat alone in the reception room. It was beautifully decorated, with food and drinks galore. There was so much to do and so much to celebrate, but you sat by yourself, sipping on an almost empty wine glass. You let out a sigh, hating that all of the old memories of you and Stephen had hit you like a truck.

Looking up at the crowd, you spotted a beaming Christine. And you just had to ask. You needed to know why she invited him.

“Hey,” you greeted her.

“Hi,” Christine smiled. “Sorry, I’m trying to be a good host and mingle here and there. Just trying to talk to everyone. Are you okay?”

“Why… Why did you invite Stephen?” you asked quietly. You were straight to the point, so eager to understand.

Christine shrugged. “Well, it was mostly my husband’s idea… Why? What’s the issue?”

“Stephen… Stephen and I had grown really close before. I thought there was something between us. We kissed one night. And it was such a wonderful kiss. But after that, it was like he forgot all about me. He stopped talking to me. He got all cold. I don’t know what I did to offend him. He… He really did break my heart,” you sighed, your eyes shutting as you felt an ache in your chest. “And seeing him here is hard. I’ve been upset ever since I saw him in the church. I still love him, Christine.”

Finally opening up your eyes, you watched as Christine sent you a kind, warm smile.

“You should go talk to him, Y/N,” Christine said.

You gave your head a furious shake. “No way. He probably wants nothing to do with me. He’ll just break my heart again. I don’t want to deal with that all over again.”

“Y/N, stop being so silly. I bet that Stephen was just scared about loving someone. You won’t know until you talk to him…”

The advice wasn’t bad, but you had yet to move. You stood there, biting at your bottom lip, contemplating what Christine was telling you. Could that have been true? Was Stephen just scared? If so, why didn’t he just tell you that instead of completely breaking your heart?

Christine let out a loud sigh. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him then.”

Christine moved far too quickly for you to even tell her to stop. You looked on with wide eyes, watching the back of the other woman’s head. She made her way to Stephen who was at the bar, by himself, slowly sipping on a drink in his hand.

Biting at your bottom lip, you watched as Stephen and Christine talked. You so badly wished you could read lips – or minds. They both stood there, talking to each other for a good five minutes. Then finally Christine walked away, making her way back over to you. Eager to know what they discussed, you opened your mouth to speak up, but Christine simply walked past you, a bright smile on her face. Following the woman with your eyes, you just watched as Christine made her way to her husband. You slowly turned, wondering what on earth had just happened. What did they say to each other?

“Y/N,” a voice said from behind you.

Stephen’s voice. You didn’t have to turn around to know that it was him. You knew his voice so well. Turning around slowly, you were met with Stephen’s dark eyes. You weren’t surprised to see that it was him. It was your first time seeing him up close in such a long time. As usual, he looked good. Too good. You weren’t sure if your cheeks were flushing red as you looked at him.

He cleared his throat. “Hi, Y/N…”

“Hi,” you replied, your voice quiet and laced with nervousness. The room suddenly felt so warm.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. And yourself?”

“Oh, I’ve been doing alright,” he nodded.

You were certain that it was the end of your conversation. That you were going to exchange quick pleasantries and be on your way and then never speak to one another again. It was quiet between the two of you, the silence rather uncomfortable. You wondered how long you would have to stand there, taking in his eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asked you.

Deep down, you were screaming out no, certain history was going to repeat itself. He was going to break your heart and leave you in tears. But you still loved him. Loved him with everything in you. Of course, you were going to talk to him.

“Yes,” you let out with a whisper.

It took just seconds for the change to happen. You heard a sizzle in your ears, the music and noisy conversations suddenly fading as you were met with quietness. You had shut your eyes during the madness, and when you opened them you found yourself in the New York sanctum. All alone with Stephen.

You looked around the space, wondering why he had brought you back there even if he just wanted to talk. It would have been a lot easier to have a conversation there.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen suddenly said with a heavy sigh.

You finally looked at him. At his wet eyes and furrowed brows and his tightly pressed together lips. It was obvious he was upset. That he was sorry about something.

“What are you sorry about?” you asked him quietly.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” he admitted. “After that night in the library. And Kamar Taj. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Tears quickly formed in your eyes. A fresh wave of pain hit you. He was admitting. Acknowledging what he had done. And it was like experiencing the heartache all over again. You hated the feeling. Hated that you couldn’t control your emotions – but he had hurt you so much.

“You broke my heart,” you told him softly. “That’s why I left Kamar Taj. I figured you wanted nothing to do with me after that…”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured back to you, that look of pain still on his face. “I was so scared.”

“Scared of what?” you shrugged.

That was when Stephen took a few steps closer to you. He eyed you intensely, staring at nothing and no one but you.

“I was scared to love someone after what I had done to Christine. I had been a complete jerk to her. I hurt her. I completely blew it with her all those years ago… I was so scared that I would lose you too, Y/N.”

The tears started to fall after that. You could no longer hold them back. Why couldn’t he have just told you that before? You wished he had. You could have worked it out, could have talked about it, could have fought for your love for one another.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me you were scared?” you whimpered. “We could have just… We could have just figured something out.”

“I was scared you would have just left me…”

Shaking your head, you made sure to say your next words clearly. “I wouldn’t have just left you… Because I loved you.”

Stephen leaned forward, his warm, trembling hand cupping one of your cheeks softly. He used his thumb to wipe at your tears, rubbing at your skin as he looked at you. “I know… And I love you too. Maybe… Maybe we can figure this out again? But this time… together.”

Smiling at him with wet eyes, you nodded. “Yes. Of course. Yes, yes, yes… But… Why have you suddenly changed your mind?”

He smiled back at you, his eyes twinkling. “Christine told me not to be afraid of letting someone love me. And when she said that, I realised that it was you that I wanted to be with.”

Beaming up at him, your heart started to race when Stephen moved in, closing the gap between you. He pressed his lips to yours softly, and it took you just seconds to kiss him back. It was as wonderful as you had imagined in your head. You wrapped your arms around his back, and Stephen mimicked your motions, pulling you up against his own broad chest. You stood there kissing, your tongues slowly dancing together, with Stephen slowly guiding you toward his bed.

You both landed on it, your lips still attached, with a soft thud. You were growing wetter and wetter with each heated second that passed, your hands running up and down Stephen’s back, wanting to feel all of him. You felt exactly how you felt when you used to train together at Kamar Taj. You felt that need, that want, that hunger.

Pulling away from his lips with a gasp, you and Stephen both looked at each other with dark eyes. The room had grown hotter, and you knew then and there that you wanted more.

“Please make love to me,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“Are you sure?” he sucked in a sharp breath.

You nodded. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

He smiled at you, his eyes twinkling again. “Okay.” Leaning down, he gave you another soft, slow kiss before getting off the bed and standing up.

You were about to pull off your dress, but you let out a shocked gasp when Stephen waved a gentle hand in your direction, and then a second later, both yours and his clothes had been removed.

You licked your lips at the sight of his bare form, watching as Stephen got in the bed and crawled over to you. Spreading your legs open, Stephen got in position between them, giving you a long kiss. When he pulled away, he looked down at you seriously.

“Are you sure you want this?” he wondered.

“Yes,” you moaned. You had never been so sure of anything in your life. “Please fuck me. Please, please, please.”

It took him just a second to make his next move. He pushed into you, filling you up with his cock. You moaned at the sensation, loving the new feeling of him stretching you out. Stephen grunted above you, and you fell in love with the noise.

He didn’t move. Just stayed there with his cock pushed deep inside of you. But then he looked down at you, eyes ever so dark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Please move, though. Please. I wanna feel you.”

He listened to you. He began to pump in and out of you slowly, soft grunts escaping his lips with each movement. You joined in, letting out your own noises of pleasure before you pulled him in for a quick yet passionate kiss.

��You’re so big,” you whispered against his lips. You kept whining as he thrusted in and out of you, but you needed more. “Oh, please go faster.”

Once again, he listened. The tip of his cock met that sweet spot deep inside of you, forcing a shrill cry out of you.

“Oh, Stephen!” you squealed, wrapping your arms around his back. You scratched his back, letting pleasure take over. The sounds of your moans mixed in with the noises of skin slapping skin. That was all that could be heard in the bedroom: the sound of the two of you making love.

Stephen kissed you for a moment, his moans loud. “You feel so good.”

“Please don’t stop,” you begged in response.

“I promise I won’t. God, I promise I won’t stop.”

He kept moving, kept taking you, and you looked up to watch him closely. He was sweating and his hair was sticking to his forehead. You were certain he was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You couldn’t help but kiss him, and he kissed you back, your tongues dancing together for a long moment.

“Please fuck me harder,” you pleaded when you pulled away from him. “And faster. Please.”

Stephen lifted himself up, his big hands on either side of your head, a look of total darkness in his eyes. He looked so serious, so lost in lust. And then he pumped into you exactly as you had asked: hard and fast, his movements so wild and quick. You cried out his name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Reaching down, you held the warm covers tight, pulling at them as you moaned. He kept fucking you, and with each and every thrust, you found yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. Your orgasm was blossoming; it was just seconds away.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined. “Please don’t stop!”

He nodded down at you, fucking you harder and faster and deeper, giving you every inch of his cock. It was with one hard thrust that you lost it, your orgasm hitting you suddenly.

“I’m cumming!” You came around his length, coating him with your juices as you squealed. It felt so good. So hot. Your pussy was gushing around him as you lost it, drenching his length.

“I’m so close,” Stephen muttered, still pumping you full of his cock. He was grunting above you.

“Mm, please cum inside me. You can do it. It’s safe. Please,” you whimpered. You were slowly coming down from your high.

It took Stephen just four thrusts into you before he lost it. He came with a deep grunt, emptying himself inside of you, your pussy milking every drop from him. Licking at his lips, he kept moving, kept giving you his length and every last rope of cum he could give you. Then he pulled out and collapsed right then and there on top of you, the both of you breathing hard and fast. You had to catch your breath.

It took a moment, but Stephen rolled off of you and pulled you to his chest. He stared down at you, his eyes focused on your own.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Stephen gave you a bright smile, and you both leaned in close, sharing a sweet, soft kiss. You nuzzled into Stephen’s chest, loving the feeling of his arms wrapping around you tighter and harder. He felt so warm, so cosy. He felt like home. You were beyond happy to be there in his bed, in his arms, having just made love to him. More importantly: you were happy to just be with him, and you were especially filled with delight after you had worked things out and could finally be together.

“So, do you plan on coming back to Kamar Taj?” Stephen asked in a hopeful tone.

You looked up at him, staring into his blue eyes. “I’ll think about it, but I think you owe me a few dates and more of this before I make a decision,” You smiled, teasing him.

Stephen chuckled, and your heart soared from hearing that sound and finally seeing him happy with you. “Deal.”

You smiled at him again before leaning in and kissing him softly. He kissed you back before you pulled away. “I love you, Stephen Strange.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Stephen told you.

You shared one final kiss before you fell asleep in Stephen’s arms, happier than you had ever been in your whole life. It was the ending you had craved for so long, and you finally got it.

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