It’s been like 5 or 6 months since I last posted and I genuinely feel I am in such a better mindset to pursue more works!
If anyone sees this and has any requests they wanna shoot my way please feel free to do so, I do have prompts you can find them in my pinned along with who/what fandoms I write for!
If anyone has any requests, head cannons, blurbs, imagines. Throw them at me. I’ve been working on all my chapter updates that I need a few things to throw out in the mix while I try and get things situated to be posted !
A/N: who doesn’t love an argument that leads to confession and sex to settle all the pent up emotions?
The day started normal. It was peaceful, nothing to worry about. It was perfect if you wanted to go to that degree. As you sat on the porch in your rocker, you admired the nature in front of you. There was a haze of fog but that didn’t take away from the scenery you loved time and time again. The way the sun rays beamed through illuminating the dew that laid on the yard. As you sipped your tea you thought about how you’d spend the day. It had been a while since you’d had this amount of free time from schooling and meetings. It made you feel overwhelmed with the amount of things you could do.
As your mug sits empty in your hands you get up to head back in. “Maybe I’ll get some shopping done.” you thought to yourself. One would think you never came home after each schedule as you never really took notice of just how bare your fridge and shelves had gotten from the late night snacking.
“Yeah..” you dragged out. “We definitely need food in here to survive..” you’d said ‘We’ in meaning Yeonjun and yourself. More so him as any chance he’d gotten he was over. Closing the door you made your way up to your bedroom, stopping as you’re to walk past the guest bedroom. The bed lay empty, once occupied by the sly fox himself.
“I’ll be back in time for dinner.” he had joked pointing at you as you shook your head rolling over to peer at the clock on the nightstand.
“It’s 4:35am, please go bother someone else.” You grumbled at the taller one who only responded with a light chuckle. Before leaving, he placed a kiss on your forehead making your face scrunch up.
“You end up late. You’re sleeping in the barn.” you said jokingly making a face before turning back for bed, earning a chuckle from him.
“I make no promises.” his smile soft but bright lighting his whole face as he departed.
Your smile at the memory from this morning you both had shared soon turned into a small frown. It was complicated when it came to you both. More or less Him. One minute he’s your best friend the next he’s making you feel like his. His. The idea seemed crazy to think about but you couldn’t help it as it became a frequent occurrence. One would see it as just being friendly, others may not. But to you? The gesture filled your body with warmth. And that was dangerous..
Getting your clogs on you looked over your outfit one more time, pushing the idea of him and whatever it was you were feeling aside as you grabbed your purse and keys and headed out. There was no plan for where you’d start, as long as you got essentials and things that’d last for a bit you were set.
As you roamed each aisle you had a fair amount in your cart already. You’d checked off a lot from your list and this was only the first store of many others.
“This is going to cost me so much I can feel it.” You talked to yourself as you giggled.
As you checked off another item you had something come to mind. “I should get his favorites for dinner tonight.” You set the shrimp chips down in the cart before you rounded the corner, stopping in your tracks at the voice you’d heard. It was Yeonjun, and a smile started to form upon seeing him. He must have been on break and came to grab a few things before heading back. You planned to approach him by nudging him with the cart when you saw someone come around the corner. Stopping in your tracks the cart nearly takes you out. You’d recognize that orange hair anywhere. It was Yeji, a common friend between you both that you’d hang out with in group settings. The only difference? Never individually/alone. It caused a sense of alarm in you but you thought nothing of it and quickly turned around and went to check out before they noticed you and left.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” You spoke to yourself.
You didn’t have a problem with Yeji by any means but there were moments where she was more friendly than supposed friends are supposed to be and normally you didn’t have a problem with it but something clearly changed. You were never the type to immediately assume especially if he was supposed to be your best friend right? Right? Doing your best to brush it off you continue on with your day getting a few more things elsewhere and heading back home to start preparing for dinner.
As 5:30pm came around you were midway with dinner when he stopped by.
“Y/n?” he’d call.
“Kitchen!” you’d answer him as you were mid stir, turning when you felt his presence. A smile coming to your face. “Hii!”
“Hi lovely.” he said, coming to you making you tiptoe awaiting the forehead kiss he’d been continuing but it didn’t happen. Instead he just side hugged you. It wasn’t a foreign gesture, just not the one you had been expecting as of recently. Brushing down whatever was brewing you smiled brighter in hopes to hide the touch of sadness you felt.
“Hungry?” you asked him.
“Very.” he gave a small smile before setting his things down on the island behind you like he owned the place.
Turning the stove top off you transferred the pan to the island counter top where the two plates you had prepped were as you transferred the noodles and stir fry you made to them. Pouring the last bit on his plate you felt a vibration, looking to your right it was his phone. Notifications from KKT popped up, you were going to look away assuming it was just the other 4 but you saw her name.
“It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re being dramatic.” you said under your breath.
“Y/n?” he said, pulling you away from your thoughts.
“Hm? Yeah?” you shook your head looking at him.
“Everything good..?” he asked walking to you as he grabbed his phone.
“Oh yeah, I'm alright. Kinda zoned out but I think it's because I'm hungry.” you played it off.
“Let’s get some food for you.” he gave a small smile while taking the plates to the dining room.
As you scrolled twitter that night you noticed a few tweets that looked cryptic from Yeji. You didn’t think anything of it but reached out to let her know you were here if she needed to talk. Almost instantly you were shut down.
Weird, you thought. Normally you can talk to one another. You responded back before closing your phone for the night and laid there staring at the ceiling.
It’s nothing. Just get some sleep, you told yourself.
Weeks went by and the thoughts you tried so hard to push down resurfaced. It’s not like you were trying to bring them back up, yet here you were. Yeonjun had been on a trip with the others and would be away for about a week. You missed him but knew he was having fun from all the posts he was doing. You hadn’t heard from him for a little bit and the day he was supposed to return was just less than a day away. You tried not to worry but knew he was alright seeing the official posts and the interactions he was giving that you decided to text him. The conversation went well, he filled you in on everything you both laughed and it was great. The conversation had died down but you weren’t upset. You went back to working on a few things before heading to bed. As you lay down and get comfortable you open your texts with him and send your usual good night message before drifting off.
When you awoke in the morning you did your usual morning routine before checking your phone. When you got to checking you noticed you didn’t get a response.
“Not a big deal.” you shrugged. He probably just didn’t see it. As you checked your notifications you saw something and clicked it, it was photos of Yeji and him together out wandering. What was supposed to be a “group” trip was in fact not. In that moment that single notification furthered the suspicions cooking in your mind. Those thoughts you pushed away were finally becoming a reality. Did you have feelings? No? Then why does it hurt more than you expected it to. You weren’t reading into it, it was clear as day what it meant. You couldn’t think straight. What was supposed to be a day spent getting the house ready for his arrival back was spent crying and feeling worthless for your emotions getting the best of you. You didn’t wanna believe your suspicions of them both but that alone was enough to put everything in motion.
Was it all in your head? Was it real? Was he just stringing you along before someone else came along?
Were you reading into it all wrong?
As you lay there in your head you didn’t notice you drifted to sleep. It wasn’t until you heard the key in the door did you wake up. You’d forgotten he had a key. You didn’t even give yourself time to think on what you were going to say before you were up and right in front of him.
“Tell me the truth.” you blurted out.
“Woah..hello to you too, what truth?” he looked at you, eyes furrowed. A look of confusion on his face.
“Don’t play dumb right now Daniel.” His eyes widened at the use of his English name.
“I don’t even know what you’re going on about,” he backed into the now closed front door.
“Are you with her?” You said straight faced, getting to the point. “Or have feelings for her?”
“What?” he still wasn’t getting what you were saying.
“I saw you with Yeji.” you finally said. “The day you were supposed to be in rehearsals. I saw you both together while I was out.”
His face dropped as he realized what you meant.
“That’s not what it looked like-” you raised your hand for him to stop talking.
“What’s the point?” you sighed. “What’s the point in trying to defend yourself when there’s proof?”
“I...” he couldn’t form any words for a second.
Silence filled the space, he was now sitting at the front door. You are sitting at the bottom of the staircase, head in your hands.
“Do you love me?” you break the silence, running a hand over your face and then through your hair.
Silence.
“Do you even care for me in that way?” Your voice cracked slightly as emotions began to take over.
Silence once more.
You nodded, aware of what he was thinking without even saying it. His silence was the only answer you needed. Shifting in your spot you wiped your eyes of the few tears that had fallen. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. As you walked away towards the couch. An hour had passed as you lay on the couch, you must have fallen asleep at some point because when you awoke your eyes hurt from the tears and the house was silent once more. Looking around you didn’t see him. Did he leave? Was he still here? You had many things running through your mind as you dragged yourself up the stairs and to your bathroom to wash away your sadness and grogginess. As you changed you found yourself standing in front of the door, hand just resting on the doorknob. Were you afraid? Would he be there or would he have booked it by now? So many things came to mind as she finally turned the knob, opening it to a moonlit hall. As you came down the stairs, the living room came into view as you saw the patio door open and him appear.
Your eyes meet but the gaze doesn’t hold for long as you look away.
Sitting back down at the bottom of the stairs you kept your distance as you looked to the floor, a few tears falling as you bit your lip out of habit to stop yourself from sobbing more. Were you too late? Should you have stood your ground sooner? You’d do anything for him and yet.. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the creaking of the sofa as he finally sat down. Eyes flicking up you saw him, body facing you as his eyes peered into you. Tears began to brim once again as you were under his gaze. You’d froze seeing him get up before standing the second he began approaching you. It was as if times stopped as he stood in front of you in silence. Yeonjun reached for your hand but you pulled away. You didn’t want to be touched by him in the moment no matter how badly your soul craved him.
“I..” was all you said before he took over.
“I love you.” It was as if he finished your sentence. Those three words.
“No you don’t.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your mouth. “Please don’t play with me right now.” You croaked out.
“But I do.” His voice is calm.
“I can’t take it anymore.” You try to push past him as he follows, denial is all you can think of. “Yet you’re with her.”
“Why would I be with her?” His brows furrow. “Are you listening to yourself right now?”
You stop in your tracks turning to him.
“Listen to myself?” You point to yourself. “That’s all I’ve been doing and I still can’t figure out if you’re messing with me or not.”
He doesn’t speak, only listens.
“Every kiss, every hug, every lingering hug.” You count in your hand as you feel your blood boil of frustration. “Every night you’d stay in my bed instead of the guest one meant nothing.”
You’d gained confidence as you had tears filled in your eyes.
“God!” You exclaimed, hands coming to your hair holding it. “Do you know how much I love you?” He asks.
All you do is sniffle as you wipe tears.
“Don’t feed me this now.” You avoided his gaze.
“Do you know how much it consumes me?” He inches closer. “Just how much you run through my mind?”
“I ache, I pine, I perish.” He’s backed you into the counter top.
“Every thought had of you is a flame I cannot tame—”
You scoffed at him, not wanting to believe him or his words.
“Will you just listen for fucks sake?” His voice now raised. “So damn stubborn to realize you’re who I want. You’re who I crave. You don’t think I feel what you do right now over seeing me with someone else? You don’t think it kills me seeing you around the guys? How much I’d wish it were me who was hugging you, touching you. But her?” He rolls his eyes. “She is nothing compared to what you are, who you are. You have bewitched me, utterly and irrevocably. You are my want, my weakness, my wonder.”
He had tears in his eyes. The passion, the yearning, the desire of his words did you in. He just confessed. You couldn’t deny any of it. You just knew. You raised a shaky hand towards his face, he welcomed it. The touch of warmth filled you as he leaned into your hand.
“You mean it?” Your eyes search his, breath hitching as his own hand comes to your face wiping your tear stained eyes and cheeks.
“Every word. Every syllable.” His smile is genuine, gentle and sweet. “You’re mine, you’ve been mine, you will always be mine.”
Emotions at the surface and taking over your arms wrapped around his neck as your lips met his. His own settling at your waist, fingers gripping tight but comfortably. The hold on your waist sending you into a frenzy. Your lips moving as one as the kiss deepened and deepened.
“Forever?” You pull away just before things escalate, your fingers move to the strings of his hoodie tightening around them bringing him close.
“Forever.” He whispered, leaning in once more. This time to lift you on to the counter more comfortably as his lips are back on you hungrily, taking them into his own lightly biting. A fight for dominance didn’t exist for how equally possessive and passionate the kisses you were sharing were. Hands wandering, he removed your shirt and threw it somewhere in the kitchen before removing his own as your finger kept toying with the hem. Shoes are long gone.
As he lifts you once more he makes his way up the stairs and to your bedroom. Setting you on the mattress he wastes no time getting on top of you, his knee sliding between your legs nudging them apart as it brushes against your center. Sensation spreading through you.
“Do you want this?” He pants.
You nod.
“Words.” He says. “I need words.”
“Yes.” You gain your voice. “I want this.”
He repeats himself once more needing the confirmation despite the hand looped on his waist band of his sweats and undergarments pulling them down his body. Your own joining his somewhere along your floor. Gaining your confidence back you flip you both. Situating on top of his lap you peer down at him beneath. The sudden takeover excites him more as he doesn’t fight. He continues to let you do as you wish as you rock your hips against him, the feeling of him running through your folds getting you both off as you coat him. You watch as his face is locked into where you both meet. He watches as you lift yourself slowly, fingers gripping him firmly guiding him. Mouth a gape head threatening to fall back but he wouldn’t allow it. Your touch was intoxicating, a drug he didn’t want to come off. The feeling of you sinking down immediately sending his eyes to the back of his skull. You were perfect. A moan slipping from your lips that you couldn’t help. You were full and didn’t want to end it so soon but you couldn’t wait.
“Doing okay?” You asked, reassurance in your voice wanting to make sure he wanted to continue this time.
“Yes.” It was breathless and eager, no hesitation behind the word. “Please.”
His fingers gripping the flesh of your behind to back his words. Moving your hips you couldn’t help the agonizingly slow pace. This was long overdue and you weren’t going to waste it. Hands on his chest to ground yourself you lift your hips just enough off him before snapping this down, the moan slipping from his lips almost a whine as the pace quickened the more you rolled your hips along him, bouncing occasionally. You couldn’t deny the pleasure you were bringing him but also to yourself. The more sounds he gave the more it encouraged your pace. You’d started to slow when he took the opportunity to flip you both, his lips coming to yours before pulling away as you locked eyes. He was truly a sight, dark hair disheveled and fallen to his face just barely covering his dark orbs with just enough visibility to take in your entire presence beneath him. A hand coming up running along those now swollen pillowy lips of his, the same lips you’d fawn over endlessly. The same lips You watched as he moved down your body. Leaving bites and lingering kisses as he situated himself between your legs.
The feeling of his breath lingering over your cunt made your chest rise and fall with anticipation. The plush and softness of his lips sent shivers through your body as they situated into a kiss on your mound. He wasted no time, diving right in his tongue gliding through your folds eliciting a cry from you making you cover your mouth.
“Ah uh.” He corrected you, the loss of his mouth on you making you whine. “Hide those sounds and we stop. I want to hear as you fall apart.”
The command made your head spin, he waited and watched like a fox on its prey before his lips and tongue were back as he added a finger. Watching how you reacted, taking in and studying your body as he worked you. You could feel yourself slipping towards release, as could he.
“You will cum when I say.” His voice is demanding but also sincere.
“Please.” You just about whimper. “Please let me. Please.”
You could feel his lips form a smirk against you at your pleas. He had you right where he wanted.
“Hold it.” He said, removing his lips as he worked two fingers in you, coming up to watch you contort and twitch in the pleasure being built up. “Just a little more.”
“I can’t, I can’t.” You breathe out trying your hardest to refrain.
“Now.” Was all you needed to hear as you gripped around his fingers cumming hard.
No time to waste as he parked himself between your legs and tapped himself against your folds running through them once more, watching the way you react. The second he slid himself inside a chill ran down his spine. He watched as you let go, not hiding your moans. Fisting for the sheets to hold onto something as he picked up the pace. Yeonjun couldn’t help but watch where you both connected, he watched as he slid in and out getting lost in you.
You didn’t have time to think once again as one hand snaked under you and flipped you to all fours. Bum in the air his hands coming to caress the mounds of flesh adorn your body as he lined himself up once again and entered you nearly bottoming out from the new position as he began pounding into you. The sound of skin on skin and your moans becoming one were the only sounds to be heard. One hand on your hip as the other finds its way to your shoulder gripping it as he brings you both to the edge of cumming. His thrusts become sloppy as he nears, your moans become whimpers.
“There we go, atta girl.” He praises. “Go on, let go. Cum for me.”
You were seeing stars as you cried out of pleasure cumming around him feeling him let go at the same time. Giving himself a second before pulling out you whimpered from the loss as he joined next to you, both of you silent as you regulate your breathing. Sleep threatening to take over, you were in and out you hadn’t even realized he was cleaning you up until the coolness of the towel touched your inflamed skin making you flinch.
“Shh,” he cooed. “Sleep, I’ll take care of this.”
Giving a nonverbal response you don’t remember what he says after only a kiss being placed to your head as you drift off.
See Masterlist for plot warnings. This chapter is insinuated depression.
Summary
One year after returning from captivity, your father decides you need an extra set of eyes on you to make sure you don't 'embarrass' him.
You’re drowning.
You’re completely suspended underwater, like bricks are tied to your arms and legs with long strings that keep you afloat. The feeling of water in your lungs is usually considered an unpleasant feeling, but you’ve found comfort in how heavy it makes you feel. You don’t like breathing in nothing from day to day, it makes you feel like you’re not really living your days, but rather, letting time pass you by.
And the water…you love the water. You love how incessantly cold it is, how it sucks you beneath it, how you need to use all of your strength possible to pull up and out of it. You like how you don’t have to be sucked under, not if you took swimming lessons and had a will to live. It’s not like anyone is holding you under there. You have free will.
Now you do, at least.
You have free will emotionally. Physically, two hands have gripped your shoulders and yanked you out of the bath water, leaving you coughing and sputtering. Your eyes are still squeezed shut as the hands move from your shoulders to your face and the back of your hair.
“Your highness!” Karoline finally gripped your cheeks and shook you. So dramatic.
You sighed and slowly opened your eyes, glaring at your maid.
“I was trying to take a bath,” you said matter-of-factly.
“You were drowning yourself!”
Your eyes narrowed, “Don’t be so dramatic would you Karoline? You worry far too much.”
But you knew exactly why she worried about you. She had known you since before you were born. She was your mother maid before yours, and she was passed down to you like a piece of clothing. It felt offensive to you, honestly, to have someone care for you hand and foot. It was a shame that such a belief was a part of your label as the ‘overly political and rebellious princess of Austria.’ What a shame for the poor Emperor and Emperess to be raising a daughter who is so ungrateful of her privilege! How can she go out into the public and shame her family for their overinsesent need to engage in war!
You don’t know why your father wanted you to be so involved in the war. You spent a lot of time theorizing that he hoped it would shapen you up, make you realize that he was a good guy. The funny thing was, ever since that war, you felt even stronger about your political and social beliefs. And your dislike for your parents.
“I worry for you m’lady–”
“Please just call me by my name.”
“Your highness…”
You whipped your wet head toward her, but didn’t interrupt her. There was no point. She spent her life addressing powerful people and that wasn’t going to change.
Karoliine continued when she realized you were going to let her speak, “Ever since the war ended, you’ve retreated within yourself. Your parents worry for you.”
“Is that so? Did they tell them that themselves?”
“Yes, but–”
“You can tell them that if they were so worried about me, they wouldn’t have sent their only daughter off to be a spy in a war that they started. You can tell them that if they’re so worried, they would have tried to find me when I got caught–”
“We did try and find you.”
You glanced up at your mother, standing in your bathroom doorway. Your mother entered your space a lot more since the war despite your displeasure. You were a grown woman, 24 years old, and your mother, the Emperess of Austria, was trying to make sure you weren’t screwing up the family name too bad.
“I’ll excuse myself,” Karoline scurried out of the room as if she wasn’t more of a mother to you than your own. When it was just you and your mother, you groaned and slipped back into the water, keeping your head above water this time.
“It’s inappropriate to be entering your daughter's lavatory. I’m not a child.”
She ignored you, “Karoline tells me she’s caught you trying to hurt yourself.”
You scoffed, “And when has Karoline ever not been dramatic.”
You didn’t realie how close your mother had gotten. Her thin, skeletal hand, gripped the back of your neck and pulled you up right. There was no point in fighting her, really. You could use your words to tear her down, but physically, fighting the Emperess would land you in prison, even if said Emperess was your mother. She took a soft towel and wrapped it around you.
“You’re shivering.”
“Because I am cold.”
She looked you in the eyes for a moment and sighed before grabbing a second towel.
“Is that why you’ve been hurting yourself? Do you think we left you to be tortured?”
“Mother, does it look like I’ve been hurting myself?” you asked. Some of the wounds from your kidnapping were still there. You had some bruises that were starting to fade on your stomach and ribs and scars from where they drew blood to try and get you to talk. But those wounds were assessed once they found you. There were no new ones.
“You’ve been more…reckless. In your behavior,” she took your shoulders and brought you to your own bedroom and sat you on your bed.
“Are you going to dress me like a child?”
She ignored you again, entering your dressing room.
“Your father is very upset about your behavior.”
“I’m sure he is. That’s why he hasn’t spoken to me in weeks, right?”
Silence. Your mother didn’t know her way through your dressing room, because that was typically reserved for Karoline.
“I do not know why Karoline does not put you in this dress more often. It is lovely on you.”
She walked out holding the most atrocious dress you had ever seen in your life.
“Karoline has a sense of beauty. Mother.” You said, almost derogatory. She stared at you flat lipped, like you were just another stranger she saw on the street.
“Put this on. Your father wants to speak to you.”
You fuss at the sleeves as your mother steadies the bodice from behind. Today’s dress is simple enough for the household–soft muslin in a muted dove gray with a narrow waist and a skirt meant for walking the gardens rather than riding in carriages. It’s not a very appealing dress for you. The color makes you look deceased and it gives no framing. Your mother tugs the lacing just so, murmuring small instructions about posture and temper. She was always more of a teacher than a mother.
You can not stop thinking about your fathers words to you almost two years ago before everything changed
. “You are not the heir,” he had said, as if that fact excused sending you where your brother, Adonis could not go–he was implicitly placing your life somewhere beneath obligation and convenience. How are you supposed to go back like nothing happened? Like your father didn’t look you in the eye and say that your life was less valuable than your brothers because of the order in which you were born? You were expected to do your duty as a princess and be the perfect daughter, but you didn’t even feel like their daughter anymore. You were just some stranger floating around the castle grounds, with no opportunity to work, no opportunity for an education, and your love would be decided for you.
You stared into the mirror in front of you as you began to get dressed in your second identity. You didn’t feel like yourself in these clothes. You didn’t feel like yourself when your hair was piled up to the top of your head. You didn’t feel like yourself bedazzled in jewels at parties. The only time you truely felt like a real person was when you were stripped of all of that…like in the bath.
Karoline walked back in silently to do your hair, and your mother sat on a seat in the corner. The walking dress she chose for you was grey with black lacing. You hated how modest it made you look. If she was going to put you in a costume, she could have at least chosen one that made you look better.
“You should smile more often. No man will court you with a scowl.”
Karoline tugged hard on your hair and you winced with a slight yelp accompanying it.
“Sorry your highness…almost done.”
You closed your eyes, “One day I am going to lose all of my hair from it being pulled all of the time. What would you prefer, mother? Explaining a dead daughter to the public or explaining a princess without hair?”
Your mother gave a heartless laugh and dragged her thumbs over her bare nails. Despite it being a casual day with no large events occurring, she was always dressed up. You couldn’t imagine being the Queen. You could barely deal with the public moulding of yourself as a princess, and even then, people would always care more about what your mother did than what you did. She never spoke to you about if she liked her life, no. That would be taboo. But sometimes when you and her locked eyes, you saw a flash of pain. What kind of pain? You might never know. Maybe pain that she married into this family. Pain that she lost any freedom she may have had by marrying your mother. Pain that she’s breeding her daughter into a life that she hates.
You follow your mother through a corridor that smells of beeswax and smoked leather, the servants’ murmurs meaning nothing to you anymore. No one had any shame anymore. Not even your parents who neglected to silence the servants gossip. No one saw that you did what you were ordered to by your father and saved your country by not revealing any secrets. No one saw that you were a female spy and even more so, an imperial spy. They saw the aftermath. They saw a girl that failed her job and almost got herself killed.
Your legs move because they must, but your mind moves in a thicker, greasier kind of motion, like something trapped under oil. You pass under tapestries that depict hunts and treaties, images of whole huntsmen on whole horses who look impossibly uncomplicated compared to the mess you are. Your mother’s hand is at the small of your back, the way the court has taught her to handle scandal. She speaks in that clipped, rehearsed voice emperesses learn for diplomacy. “Do not snap at your father the way you snap at me,” “He will be less forgiving of this barbaric behavior,” “If you don’t get your act together your father will not forgive you.”
It is easier for her to make you perform grief than to admit she failed to know the shape of your nights.
You don’t pay much attention to any of the servants or guards who bustle around you. Except for him.
He is stationed just outside one of the side doors, a shadow folded into the architecture as if the palace had been built to hold him. Marcus stands with the discipline of a man who has spent years shaping his body into obedience, with shoulders like an anvil, spine a column, boots planted as if the floor were his anchor. His uniform matched all of the other guards in the castle–he should have blended in with the rest of them. But the red jacket was so fiery and loud next to his dark brown, doe like eyes that you often caught watching you as you walked down the corridors. The dark gold tassels were a similar color to his own hair, which had bits of silver in it now. Silver and Gold. Two opposites. Perhaps that is why he stands out so much. He’s the opposite of the rest of the guards. But that does not make him worse, persay. You don’t know much about him beyond that he was the Chief General of the Austrian army for many years before being nearly fatally injured. Despite the castle having it’s own channels for news, you enjoyed getting the newspaper to hear about what was going on amongst the rest of the Austrian people. It was then how you learned about Marcus’s injury.
He is not at parade rest, but there is an attention about him that feels like a held breath. He does not step forward or bow. He simply watches with a face that is almost always in reserve.
Marcus Acacius, the king’s chosen. The court spoke of his loyalty the way they spoke of taxes: necessary and unavoidable. You do not know why your father invited him to his imperial guard after he recovered from his injuries. In fact, you don’t know much of why your father does anything. But the mystery that surrounded Marcus made each day more worth living, to try and come up with different stories in your brain about where he came from, his family, his injury, his time in the war.
He is younger than you expected and older than you admitted. Many of his wounds are not public in his clothing, but he has a scar that runs like a punctuation mark from the edge of his brow to the center of his cheek. Something about that scar makes your breath rewire itself. You have a very similarly placed one from your own torture during the war. How similar can two very different people be? A rugged, older, former military general and a younger princess both sharing a physical wound…you wondered if he noticed your scar. You wondered if he thought about what happened to you in captivity.
You find your eyes traversing him up and down. It is a physical cataloging as detailed and ordinary as counting the buttons on a coat: the line of his jaw, the slope of his throat where you imagine a pulse, the way his coat falls at his hips, the hint of a shoulder muscle when he shifts his weight. You imagine what those muscles look like under the coat. You chastise yourself for the warmth that blooms low in your stomach. You are a princess; you have been trained to look nothing like the kinds of want that tighten your ribs.
Marcus’s eyes find you once, twice, and there is no smile there, only an observation that is serious and almost tender, as if he is taking inventory of what is present and what is broken. He offers no words. He never has in the several years that he’s worked in the castle. Not a greeting, not a courtesy, not even the indifferent murmurs guards afford royalty. Sometimes you catch him watching you from the periphery of court–you have catalogued his absences the way you catalogue the scars you hide in your skirts with a private, persistent interest.
Why doesn’t he speak? You find yoursewlf asking that every time you walk by him. Is he ignorant of court niceties? Too proud? Bound by oaths that forbid fraternizing? Or is he simply a man who keeps the mechanizations of his mouth in reserve for pain and commands, the way a smith reserves his best hammer for the iron that will not yield? You imagine the latter– a man composed of restraint, carved not by upbringing but by necessity.
Your mother’s voice washes over you and you have to pull yourself from the private study of his profile.
“Your father would like to speak to you about your…” she paused and looked you up and down, “Your condition.”
You moistened your lips and couldn’t help but smile at the stupidity.
“Condition…right. You say it like I have a touch of consumption.”
She smacked your arm as hard as a frail woman like herself could.
“Perhaps you do. Maybe it will clear your brain of it’s delusions.”
You keep your head high and let her guide you into the council chamber where the emperor awaits, the arrangement already tidy in his mind the way a general shapes a battle.
It’s been expected of you since before you could remember to call your father ‘King.’ Even ‘sir’ would suffice. Your mother let you get away with calling her ‘mother’ but you understood her more than your father. You knew a handful of things about him, because it wasn’t classy for an Emperor to overshare with his daughter, especially if his daughter would not be taking over the crown when he died. Your brother probably knew more about him than you did. You knew three things.
His name is Damian Franz Joseph III after his grandfather and great grandfather.
He is not widely liked by his people, but he’s respected for his work and policies.
He does not love you.
The Emperor receives you in a room paneled in dark walnut, the map of the empire spread on the table like a story told in borders. His face is a ledger of fatigue and obligation, like you are merely in his way.
He made a ‘tsk’ sound and put out his cigarette. He looked you up and down like he hadn’t seen you in a long time.
“Whatever are we going to do with you?”
You knew better than to be snippy with your father the way you were with your mother. He walked closer to you and continued to look you up and down as you stood upright, hands in front of you.
He grabbed your chin tightly between his meat-like hands and forced your gaze up to him. That was why you didn’t talk back. He preferred to get physical unlike your mother. You winced in the pain of his grip and met his eyes.
“This was a question. I expect an answer.”
“I do not not know sir.”
He stared daggers into your soul before dropping your face.
“It is a shame I have to even resort to this. You could have behaved like every other princess from every other country, but no. I seem to have been cursed with the most difficult child on the planet. I often wonder what demon I made mad in a past life to have to deal with a child like you now.”
He circled back to his map of the empire and braced himself on the table.
“You will be watched,” he says plainly, the sentence clipped like a command. “No more unsupervised excursions. No unaccounted visitors. The captain has selected a man to remain near you at all times. This is for the crown’s security and for your own.”
You taste amusement and fury and the small resignation that you have no control over this. You look toward the doorway expecting to see the steward re-enter with formalities, and instead the doors swing open and Marcus steps in–not as a herald but simply into the room. He carries no fanfare. He’s going to be watching you?
Your jaw dropped right as the Emperor began to speak.
“Marcus has agreed to watch over you until you can prove yourself ready to carry out your imperial duties. He will not leave your side until I tell him to leave. And he will report every…single..thing….back to me,” he paused, “you are excused.”
You storm down the corridor with fists clenched in your skirts, the gray muslin of the fabric hissing over polished floors. You hate everything about your home– the smell of beeswax, the chill in the stone, the tapestries that show lives so whole and uncomplicated. Everything in this palace is a mockery to the people that have died at the hands of your family. Behind you, Marcus’s steps follow. Of course they do. He’ll do anything your father says to do. It’s pathetic. It’s…it’s sad.
You spin halfway toward him once you reach your bed chambers, your voice pitched too sharp, too loud, but you cannot stop it.
“He caused this!” you choke out. “Do you know what it is to wake and feel hands that aren’t there? To bleed in dreams and wake with your nails in your own skin? He gave me this. He sent me where my brother would not go because I was worth less. Because I was not the heir. Because my life is currency to be spent and forgotten.”
Marcus says nothing. His silence is like a blade, and you cannot stand it. You close the distance, jabbing your finger at his chest. “And now he sets you upon me. Like a dog at my heels. Like I cannot be trusted to walk from my bed to my chamber without collapsing. What are you going to do, Acacius? Follow me about like a shadow and never say a word?”
You shove him. The heel of your hand meets the solid wall of his chest, and he does not move. You shove again, harder, but his boots are anchored to the marble as if the earth itself holds him upright. He’s so big, like a stone wall. “Say something!” you snarl, shoving and shoving until your palms sting. “Do you not see what he has done to me? Do you not see there is nothing left?!”
His face stays maddeningly unreadable. It infuriates you. Your arms tremble from the force of it, from the futility, and the sob bursts out before you can swallow it. You stagger back until your knees hit the bed, and you collapse, the skirts wrapping around you like chains.
You bow your head into your hands, and the tears come, “I should have died there,” you whisper into the cracks between sobs. “It would have been better if I had died. Everyone thinks it anyway. That I came back wrong. That I am a failure of a daughter, of a princess. He was right…I am cursed.”
You hear him breathe, low and steady, the way soldiers breathe when the battlefield goes quiet. You know he’s still standing there, watching you with those dark, fathomless eyes. It makes your skin burn. His silence is not indifference. It is something else, something heavier, something that makes your stomach twist.
You drag your hands down your face, eyes red , and find him still rooted there, his profile outlined by the lamplight. You want to strike him again just to make him react to you, to make him feel you. You want him to grab your wrists, to pin you down, to prove he is alive.
“You stand there like stone,” you whisper, your voice shaking. “But you are watching me. I know you are. Why do you look at me like that? As if I am something worth keeping alive?”
You half rise, half stumble toward him, close enough that you can see the faint line of the scar on his cheek, the flecks of silver in his hair. You want to reach out and trace the line of the scar to see if it is the same texture as yours.
He does not move. He does not touch you. You collapse back onto the bed curling in on yourself, shivering in the dress that feels like a cage on your body. And Marcus stands over you, unmoving, as though he can keep you alive by watching you, as though his heart is breaking in the quiet, as though if he dared to reach for you, he would not stop.
Your father, the Emperor of Austria, sent you to be a spy in France during the war. However, after the mission goes wrong, you are kidnapped and tortured for a year.
Now, 1 year later, you are still dealing with the fall out of your time as a prisoner of war. To try and prevent you from acting 'erratically' your father assigns his lead guard to watch over you 24/7, no questions asked.
General Marcus Acacius.
Tags and Plot warnings
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, like really slow burn, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Aftermath of Torture, Dirty Talk, Crying During Sex, Spit As Lube, Sexual Tension, Degradation Kink, avoid use of y/n as much as possible, Forbidden Love, Face-Fucking, Heavy Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Alternate Universe - Royalty, 1800s Austria
Authors Note
Hello hello!
If you read my Fantastic Four fic and now you're here, welcome I am so happy to see you, and if you stumbled over here accidentally, I am just as happy to see you!
I started writing this while I was writing my F4 fic because I really wanted to try out a period piece and I had a vision of Marcus watching Gladiator of him as a royal guard of sorts, I just never wrote it down. But, I knew I didn't want my last fic to be it for me, so here we are.
This is set in 1800s Austria. Why Austria? I didn't want to do England tbh, I feel like that's done a lot in period pieces so I wanted to change it up. I did some research and their system of government at the time made the most sense to me so I decided on that. There are no Gladiator characters in this besides Marcus-this is an AU.
I'd also like to note that this fic will deal with much heavier themes than my F4 fic, so please make sure to read the tags. It is also going to be quite the slow burn, so if that's not for you, that's okay I still love you.
To not burn myself out, I'm probably going to be updating once a week. I'm also getting a lot of one shot requests from my F4 fic on Tumblr so I have to do those as well. My twitter is @elyispunk if you wanna follow!
idk if you listen to sabrina carpenter, but i feel like we need a When Did You Get Hot? vibe fic.
maybe where reader used to know tommy or joel before the outbreak, and then reunites with them and they’re like “when did you get all of a sudden?”. ya know?????
thank youuuuuuu❤️
soooo hahah reader used to know them both, couldn’t CHOOSE UGHHH 😭 and i love love love sabrina r u kidding meeeeee anywayssss gonna keep this quick n simple <333
summary: just a good ol’ fashioned reunion w your favorite miller brothers.
word count: 1,3k
note: i did this one quick n dirty, no smut, just wanted it to be a little on the shocker side! you know what i mean??????
Old Crushes
You don’t even mean to run. But the second your eyes lock on those shoulders—broad, familiar, burned into you from Austin nights of being picked up after babysitting shifts—you’re moving.
Your boots crunch hard against packed snow, weaving through townsfolk until you’re right there. Joel Miller, flesh and blood, not just a memory. And Tommy too, standing a half-step behind him, grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth like he’s mid-joke.
“Joel!” you gasp, and your arms are around him before you can stop yourself.
He goes rigid. His scent is woodsmoke and leather, salt-and-winter on his jacket. His body is a furnace under your grip, but his arms stay locked to his sides. He doesn’t hug you back.
Instead, you feel the slow tilt of his head as he looks over you. Past you. Right at Tommy.
And Tommy—he’s smirking, eyebrows lifted, hands tucked in his pockets like well, well, well. He shrugs at Joel, eyes dancing with mischief, like what the fuck kinda trouble have you been hiding, brother?
You pull back, breathless, grinning wide. “It’s me!”
Joel’s face is carved out of stone. His eyes rake over you, sharp and searching, but blank.
Your laugh is disbelieving, a little high-pitched. “You’re kidding. You don’t recognize me?”
Tommy leans forward, squinting. “Darlin’, you sure we’re supposed to?”
Your jaw drops, and you plant your hands on your hips. “Sarah’s babysitter. C’mon. Glasses too big for my face? Always bringing flashcards over? You used to leave me extra cash if I cooked dinner for her.”
Joel’s mouth twitches. Something like recognition flickers—then dies.
You throw your hands up. “I used to drive her to soccer practice because you were always stuck at work! I had braces, I couldn’t parallel park—hell, Tommy, you laughed at me every damn time!”
Tommy barks out a laugh, and then it hits him. His eyes widen, his jaw slackening. “Holy shit.”
Joel’s brow furrows. His voice is low, gravel scraping his throat. “No.”
You spread your arms, laughing breathlessly. “Yes! It’s me. Hi, former boss.”
There’s a beat of silence. And then Tommy blurts, louder than he means to—
“When the hell did you get hot?
The words crash through the air like a dropped plate. Joel’s head whips toward him, eyes narrowing sharp enough to cut.
Tommy winces, lips parting like he wants to take it back—but he can’t. Not when he’s staring at you now, taking in the leather jacket worn at the seams, the low-slung jeans hugging your hips, the braid swinging over your shoulder. Not when you’re standing there with that chin tipped up, eyes sharp as a blade but mouth curled into the kind of smile that could undo a man.
You laugh, embarrassed heat rushing your cheeks. “Well… surviving alone’ll do that.”
Joel still hasn’t moved. He’s staring at you like you’re a ghost who climbed out of the grave looking better than before. Like he’s not sure whether to hug you again—or push you away.
Tommy, though, is grinning wide now, unabashed, eyes full of fire. “Goddamn,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
And you? You just smile—bright and sweet, the way you always did with Sarah. Except this time, it’s sharper around the edges. Like you know exactly the kind of trouble you’ve just walked into.
Your laughter still hangs in the cold air when Tommy whistles low, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, smirk curling.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he drawls, shaking his head slow. “If I’d known this was hidin’ under all that shyness… sittin’ in my truck after babysittin’, starin’ out the window, clutchin’ your book bag like it was life or death—” his eyes flick down the length of you and back up, “—hell, sweetheart, I’d have been a whole lot nicer.”
Heat floods your face, but it’s not embarrassment this time. It’s something heavier, sparking low in your belly. You try to fight it with a laugh, shaking your head. “You were already plenty nice, Miller.”
Joel cuts in sharp, voice rough. “Tommy.”
That one word is a warning.
Tommy only grins wider, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “What? I’m just sayin’.”
But Joel’s eyes are hard, locked on his brother. His jaw ticks, then shifts to you. For a second, the fire in his stare falters.
Because now he remembers. The girl who used to curl into his couch, knees tucked under you while Sarah painted your nails. The one who’d talk his ear off about whatever book you were buried in, eyes shining while you waved your hands like the story was too big to hold. The one who’d trip over her own shoelaces, blushing so hard he swore you might catch fire.
He always thought you were cute. Sweet. A little too good for the world. He definitely classified you as a dork.
And now—now there’s nothing clumsy or dorky about the way you stand. You look like someone who’s fought for her own survival, who knows how to cut throats and keep walking. A woman who could save herself. A woman who could ruin him.
His voice comes out low, steady, almost dangerous: “Tommy, watch your mouth.”
You glance between them, lips curling into that soft, bright smile—the one you’ve always carried, the one that still makes you look like the babysitter they remember, even if the rest of you has sharpened to something they don’t know how to touch.
“Y’all haven’t changed a bit,” you murmur, sweet as sugar, but your eyes catch Joel’s for just a heartbeat too long.
And Joel—he looks away first.
Tommy’s grin is still flashing when a voice calls his name from across the square. Someone’s waving him over, talking about needing help fixing a busted gate.
“Duty calls,” he sighs, shooting you one last look that makes your belly warm. “Don’t go disappearin’ before I get back, sweetheart.”
He tips you a wink and jogs off, leaving just you and Joel standing in the cold.
Silence stretches.
Joel shifts his weight, boots crunching against the snow. His hands settle on his belt, and he looks at you from under his brow—cautious, almost shy, though there’s nothing shy about the way his eyes sweep your face like he’s memorizing it.
That tiny, rare smile ghosts over his mouth. The one you remember from Austin. The one he used to give Sarah when she was being silly.
It steals your breath. Always has.
You step closer, softer now, all your bravado slipping away. “I hope you’re doin’ alright, Joel.” Your voice catches, quiet, real. “After everything… I really do.”
His chest rises, slow. For a second, he doesn’t speak, just studies you like you’re some kind of miracle. Then, low and gravelly, he admits:
“Might be a little better now that you’re here.”
Your heart squeezes. He doesn’t hand out words like that—not Joel Miller.
You smile at him the way you always used to—sweet, sunny, the kind that makes you look like the girl who used to sit on his couch with Sarah. And yet now it carries a weight, a woman’s weight, that has his throat working as he looks at you.
“I’m glad,” you whisper. And then, because the weight of his gaze is too much, you turn, tugging your jacket tighter as you head toward the cabins. You mention something about settling in. He nods.
Joel watches you go. Tommy reappears at his side just in time to catch the sway of your braid, the low jeans hugging your hips. He lets out a low whistle. “Goddamn. That girl is fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Joel doesn’t answer right away, jaw tight, eyes still following you.
Tommy chuckles, nudging his brother. “You see her smile at me? Lord help Jackson if she sticks around—boys are gonna start fightin’ in the streets.”
Joel finally cuts him a look, sharp, warning. But there’s no denying the heat lingering in his eyes, the ghost of that rare smile still tugging faint at his mouth.
And when you disappear inside your cabin, both brothers are still standing there in the snow—watching, remembering, wanting.
4k2 | Harry Castillo x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist
Summary: after several unsuccessful relationships, Harry finds out he is capable of loving, despite his darkest fear. He just needed the right person
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Meet cute, alt pov, flirting, soft!Harry, soft dom!Harry, pet names (baby, angel), praise kink, pussy pronouns, size kink, oral (f/m), piv, creampie, aftercare, feelings.
No age specified
a/n: this is written for @baronessvonglitter 's noun-iversary challenge. I asked for a place and idea and got train station and All apologies lyrics. Thank you so much for this challenge, happy one year ❤️❤️
Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing me 😘💕 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏
Harry
He watched the train leave, tired of endless repetition.
Lucy.
Then a young woman he'd met after her, through Adore.
A woman who just boarded that train, after they agreed that their relationship wasn't going anywhere, absence of feelings to blame.
Same with others before that.
He walked her to the station without animosity. He never had any, never held a grudge against the other person, always took responsibility for the issue. Each time, his fear of being incapable of loving resonated ever more strongly within him, putting a heavy weight on his shoulders. He sighed and lowered his head, muttering "damn" under his breath.
When he left the station, instead of going back to his car he just walked, he didn’t know where and didn’t care, until he reached a little square surrounded by trees, a flower shop and a cafe, where the sounds of the city seemed to have no hold.
A bell jingled as he pushed open the coffee shop door. He got his order, sat down and watched the other customers, raising the cup to his lips.
A young couple who couldn't take their hands off each other. A man in his late 40s or early 50s, a wedding ring on his finger, dark circles under his eyes, wearing an expensive suit. He looked sad. Harry wondered if he gave the same impression. Minus the wedding ring.
Also there was you.
Sitting at a table for two, a steaming tea and a pastry on a small plate placed in front of you. A cinnamon roll. He smiled, because it was one of his favorite desserts. When he looked up, your eyes met and you smiled. The prettiest, most genuine smile he'd seen in a long time.
God, you were pretty. He took two sips of his coffee, and when he put his cup down, you were still looking at him. Still smiling at him.
“Would you like to join me?” you asked, pointing to the chair facing you.
He hesitated, because it wasn't like him. Usually before meeting someone, professionally or socially, whether on his initiative or theirs, he researched all the information about the person and evaluated them. Yet right here, right now, he knew nothing about you.
He was slightly caught off guard, while you seemed to be amused by his hesitation. He pulled himself together before coming across as a jerk and sat down at your table.
You told him your name, and he told you his.
“Nice to meet you, Harry.”
Even your voice was pretty.
He noticed the book sticking out of your purse and asked you your thoughts about it, then told you about his latest read. You chatted about your favorite authors, the conversation flowing like a stream under a spring sun, when you suddenly looked at your watch and said you were 5 minutes late for work. He asked if you needed a ride, but you told him you worked at the flower shop next door.
“If you want to see me, you know where to find me,” you said, your smile radiant, like an invitation. The bell chimed again before you disappeared.
He thought about you often during the days that followed. Resisting the urge to search if you owned the flower shop. Wondering if it really mattered, for the first time in his adult life.
And then on Thursday, on a whim, he parked near your work, walked over to the stalls filled with flowers and pushed open the door.
“Coming,” you said while working on a bouquet. You wiped your hands on your apron as you turned around, that wonderful smile lighting up your face.
“Harry!”
You seemed genuinely delighted to see him, and his heart skipped a beat. It didn’t even flinch while helping companies grow and increase their value.
"I wasn't sure I'd see you again, but I'm glad you came."
He asked if you’d go to the restaurant with him, leaving the venue up to you, and you agreed to meet the next evening. Once he got home, he checked the website for dress codes, opting for casual, total black.
You
At the restaurant you talked about art, cinema, and literature. He avoided discussing his job, saying that it wasn't interesting, but asked questions about yours. He found out that wildflowers were your favourite flowers and smiled, as if your answer didn't surprise him at all.
The conversation flowed as smoothly as in the coffee shop, when both of you hadn't noticed the time go by. Harry was cultured, open-minded and gallant. He listened to you attentively, never interrupting you, and spoke in a calm, soothing voice, yet exuded confidence.
You couldn’t believe he came back to the flower shop to invite you to dinner.
And damn, the man was gorgeous. His black clothes suited him perfectly.
When it was time to settle the bill, he chuckled when you offered to pay your share.
“You know where to find me. What if I want to reach out to you?” you asked after he walked you to your apartment building. He gave you his number and you said goodbye.
At home you lay down on your couch, your phone resting on your stomach.
Throughout the meal, you forced yourself not to stare at him, or dive into his beautiful eyes. Each line, each wrinkle of his face was perfect. But it wasn't just his look that was attractive. You knew so little and yet so much about him. You didn't know his last name or what he did for a living, but you were sure you could do a thousand things together without getting bored.
“Thank you for this evening, it was delightful,” you texted him. He replied a few minutes later, and you chatted until late hours of the night.
The third time you met was when he came to the flower shop just near closing time, looked at the stalls and chose a bouquet of wildflowers before handing it to you.
“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing.
“These are for you. Your favorites.”
His smile was so pretty that your heart melted.
He left the cash and a bag of pastries from the coffee next door on the counter, and invited you to a showing the next day. Of course, you agreed.
You opened the bag when he left, and the fresh smell of the most appetizing cinnamon roll reached your nostrils. Your favorite pastry.
Your colleague looked at you, wide-eyed, and asked who that dreamboat was. “It’s Harry,” you replied, not wanting to say more. He was your private garden, the one who made your life better those last days. You didn’t want to share it with anyone.
You untied your apron when you realised it was the end of your shift, and ran after him. “Wanna share?” His dimple deepened.
Nothing happened between the two of you during the next dates, but you could feel the tension was subtly increasing. The most pleasant one. Your hands were very close sometimes, but never touching. As if you both were aware of the electricity that would jolt your bodies.
Eyes dropping to lips- his or yours, and back up, gazes meeting.
His hand on the small of your back leading the way, lingering there for a second longer.
You loved this slow burn, the attraction rising, as if you already knew there were more to come. Something you would dive into, head first, when time would come.
“So, how is it possible that you're single, Harry?” you asked him one day, regretting your words the moment you saw a veil pass before his eyes. You were about to apologize for stepping too far when he answered, eyes lowered to his plate, “I don't know if I'm capable of loving.”
You thought about it for a few seconds.
“Isn’t it already the answer, if you're asking yourself this question? You wouldn’t care if you didn’t know how to love. And you seem to care."
He thought about your words for a few seconds and smiled. As if you freed him from a weight that had been on his shoulders for far too long, by telling him something he had never thought of. Or that no one had ever told him.
Harry
He loved the way your spontaneous nature soothed his thoughtfulness.
He loved that you both laughed so often together.
He loved the ever-rising tension, which you'd never mentioned but which he was sure you felt, too.
On the other hand, he was sure you had no idea how hard it was for him not to cup your cheeks and kiss you. Or not to grab your hand and place a kiss on it. He couldn't help but breathe you in each time you were near, the smell of your shampoo and perfume filling his lungs.
He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to wait, and was thinking about that, facing you at the restaurant. He realised your gaze was fixed on him, and out of nervousness he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater slowly.
“When are you gonna kiss me, Harry?”
Damn, you were radiant and spontaneous, and he loved it. Disarming, in the most wonderful way. He was under your spell and loved every second of it.
The surprise on his face faded quickly, as he signed the check, grabbed your hand to lead you out of the restaurant.
As soon as you were outside, his hands cupped your cheeks and his lips found yours, just like he dreamed of it so often.
You
You couldn't say how many times you kissed on the way back to your apartment, on the stairs and in the hall leading to your front door.
You barely stopped, even when you opened the door then closed it behind you.
“Do you know how hard it was, to do nothing, all this time,” he breathed between your lips, while you gladly let him pin you against the wall and kiss your neck. Your vision was already foggy, and you whimpered when he pushed your cheek with his nose to tilt your head, asking for a wider access.
“I… oh! Yes! It was hard, so hard for me, too.”
Nibbling at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, moaning under his kisses, your legs already weak as if they were made of cotton.
“Are you a gentleman in bed, too?” you panted, burying your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck and biting your lip under his kisses.
“What do you want me to be? I'm not always a gentleman.”
“Shit…” you muttered, feeling a rush of arousal flooding your panties. “You never told me your job… what is it?” you managed to say while sliding the jacket off his shoulders, soon joined by your cardigan that he had taken off.
“My job,” he said between two kisses, “is to tell people what to do,” he added, then stopped to look at you. “Is that what you want?”
No man had ever asked you that question. Not like that, when it seemed so natural coming from him, as if he were meant to lead.
“Answer me. Do you want me to tell you what to do?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“When to come?”
“Fuck… yes.”
“Lead me to your bedroom, then.”
Only the moonlight illuminated the room, giving quite a bright light to the wooden floor.
He pressed you against the wall there, lingering on your neck and undressing you. You loved to feel his beard and mustache on your skin, his hands on your body, his fingers gliding over. Fingers you'd never touched before, until now. He stopped to look at you, and his face was almost solemn.
“I want you to feel safe. If you're uncomfortable at some point, any point, you tell me, ok?”
“Yes. I will.”
He nodded, then traced your cheek with his thumb before removing your bra, leaving you only in your panties. “Lie down on the bed.”
You did what he told you and watched him take off his sweater, overwhelmed by how handsome he was. Secure and confident. Calm. Looking at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The chemistry between you was so natural. Your stare lingered on his chest, shoulders and arms, and you were sure that you would be in the safest place if he hugged you. When he hugged you.
“Why don't you spread your legs for me? Just a little, for now. Yeah, just like that. You're so pretty, you know that?”
Under his gaze, you lost your composure and shook your head shyly.
“No? We're gonna have to work on that, baby.”
’Baby’. The pet name made the heat rise in your cheeks.
“Not only pretty. Gorgeous. And just for me, right?”
“Yes, Harry.”
“Good girl. Already so obedient. Now, spread your legs a little more for me, angel.”
You slid your feet lightly along the sheets. You felt so safe with him, under his benevolent gaze, and your lower abdomen was on fire.
“Perfect. Now, would you tell me how soaked these panties are?”
Your hairs stood up hearing him and your toes curled, while he was standing tall and confident. In charge. He was so hot, as if he knew exactly how to behave around you, intuitively.
“Mmm. So receptive. So? Tell me.”
“They're… wet.”
“Perfect. Now, be a really good girl, and check how wet.”
“You want me to… ?”
“Yes. I want you to slide your hand in your panties, and tell me how wet you are.”
His words sent another jolt of electricity through your body, and he smiled. You'd never felt so inexperienced, even though you weren't. Yet you were at ease. The sound of his voice, his calm and collected demeanor, in charge and in control, created a sort of hold on your brain. And you loved every second of it.
So you did it — slid your hand under the garment, and ran your finger through your wetness. Unsurprisingly, you were drooling.
“I'm ugh… very wet. My panties are soaked.”
“Perfect, baby. Now, take them off for me, please. And show her to me while you do it.”
Jesus. He hadn't touched you yet, and you were already ruined. You bent your knees against your chest and slowly removed your panties. His eyes lit up as he saw your tight, glistening pussy.
“Spread for me now, baby. Show me how wet she is.”
Again, you did as he wished. Resting your knees against the bed, you felt yourself drooling to the sheets.
“God… Don't move, stay like that for me. You’re beautiful.”
He unzipped his pants and removed them along with his boxers. You were unable to suppress a gasp when you saw his cock. It was long and thick, pointing toward the ceiling. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth, right that moment.
“This evening, it's for you, not for me,” he said, as if he knew what crossed your mind. “So I'm going to taste you,” he added, moving closer to the bed. “Make you come in my mouth. Then I'll fuck you. What do you say?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“So polite,” he smiled.
He knelt on the bed, pulling your thighs closer to him, then let his saliva flow on your cunt.
“Oh god… Harry,” you whined.
“I know, baby. I know,” he said, running his nose through your folds, breathing in as he went.
“You smell so good. I bet you taste just as good.”
His tongue slid from the bottom of your folds to your clit, slowly. So slowly that the anticipation was almost painful, and you moaned.
“I love how receptive you are,” he praised. “I'm gonna start slow. Wanna take my time, feel your legs shake for me.” He ran his tongue over your clit again, just as gently, and placed a kiss on it. Then spread your folds with his thumbs and licked them in a slow stroke.
“You taste so good. You know how hard I am right now? You saw it, right?”
“Yes. Fuck yes, I did. Your cock’s gorgeous. And… really big.”
He chuckled, then let his saliva flow down on you again. You wanted to grab his head and push it against you. Wanted him to stick his tongue or fingers in your core and fuck you with them. But in the meantime, him taking his time was building a slow and truly delicious rise in your whole body.
Again, as if he could read your thoughts, he murmured, “I'm gonna take my time. I know what you want, but I'm gonna watch you fall apart, and you're gonna let me do it. Like the good, perfect girl that you are.”
He licked up and down again, circling your clit with his tongue, languidly.
“Oh my god…”
“I know, angel. I know.”
He tightened his hands on your thighs and held you against his face, his beard rubbing your inner thighs. Sucking, lapping, deeper and deeper, holding you wide open with his hands.
Your climax was slowly rising, your mouth pressed on the back of your hand, as you held back your moans. “No, don’t cover them up. Let me hear, angel. I love that. Makes me so hard, you have no idea.”
You gripped your breasts as he focused on your clit. You could hear him moan while sucking on it and you were about to lose your mind in the pleasure he was making you feel.
“Look at me, baby,” he muttered, just above your trembling belly. You opened your eyes, and he pushed one finger in, while his tongue was still brushing your bud. Then a second digit, and you closed your eyes under the sensation.
“Look at me,” he repeated.
“Sorry,” you breathed.
“It’s ok. Now you’re gonna let it happen, and come for me. I wanna feel you clench on my fingers, and soak them. Ok?”
You nodded vigorously.
“But I want you to keep looking at me.”
“I will. I promise”
“Good girl.”
He circled your clit with his lips, sucking gently, then rolled his fingers upwards. Keeping them lightly in, moving them just the right way.
“Oh god,” you panted. You felt the wave coming, struggling to keep your eyes open. He placed his other hand on your stomach, and pressed lightly on it.
“Come for me, now. You can close your eyes if you need to.”
The wave washed over your whole body and you mewled, eyes closed, hands clutching his hair. He didn't stop, not until you ceased moaning and shaking, your limbs as limp as a rag doll's.
“You’re gorgeous, I love watching you,” he praised, slowly removing his fingers then licking them clean, before lapping at your cunt one last time.
“How do you feel?”
“Good. So fucking good,” you sighed, your voice tired, and he smiled. “But I want you so bad…”
He chuckled, then crawled on top of you, spreading your thighs to settle between them like he belonged there. He kissed your neck then your lips. He tasted like you and you loved it.
“That bad, really?” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
“Yeah…”
He grabbed the inside of your knee to bend it and slid his tip between your soaked folds to cover his length with it. For a moment you wondered if his girth would fit inside. He was much wider than the men you had known before him.
“It's gonna be ok, baby.” His face was close to yours, his eyes soft, your heart melting, and you wondered if he could hear it beating. “You’re ready for me, and I’ll go slow, ok?”
“Ok. I trust you.”
He kissed you and kept his eyes fixed on yours as he pushed in, his other hand cupping your cheek. His eyes flickered as your walls parted, and you squeezed his forearms. “Shit shit shit,” you stammered. “Please don’t stop… oh god… don’t stop.”
He bottomed out and he didn't need to speak for you to understand what his eyes were asking. If you were okay.
“I’m ok but… you’re fucking huge.”
His dimple deepened, and if you'd been wondering until then, the way your heart skipped a beat confirmed it. You were falling in love, deeply, feeling dizzy in the best way.
He pulled back slightly before thrusting in, and your eyes rolled back into the back of your head.
“You take me so good, you know that? As if you were made for me.”
You held him close, burying your face against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, your chests pressed together. He rolled his hips gently, tenderly, massaging your g-spot with each movement, brushing against your clit with his lower abdomen, and you could already feel another orgasm building.
“You’re gonna come on my cock. Making me feel so good. You’re so perfect, baby.”
He kissed, holding you against him, and you came, whimpering against his skin.
“Come in me, please. I wanna feel you fill me,” you begged, looking at him.
Harry
He nodded, his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. Trying not to come right away, even if your cunt felt so good around him. He wanted to stay buried in you as long as possible, squeezed by your tight pussy that was taking him so well. His vision was blurry with how amazing it felt. He couldn't believe that your bodies were so in tune. That your minds were so in tune. He saw the way you were looking at him, felt how fast your heart was beating, and his own heart reacted in a way so unfamiliar that he didn't know what to do. How to react. If he should let it happen. He looked at you and pushed back a strand of your hair before wrapping his arms around you again. He wanted to protect you, to make you feel good and safe. To make you happy, just the way you had made him happy since you‘d met.
“I’m…” he stammered, resting his forehead against yours, and came, your pussy clenching on his cock with each spurt of cum, milking him until the last drop.
You brushed his back then his neck as you kissed again.
“Damn… You must be really good at your job.”
It made him laugh then he lay down, pulling you closer to him. You placed your head on his shoulder, your hand on his chest, nestling in the crook of his arm.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Good, really good. It was perfect, like woaaaaahhhhh perfect.”
You both giggled and cuddled for a while. Then you headed to the shower. He breathed in your hair freely when he applied the shampoo, and you washed each other. He loved feeling every inch of your skin under his fingers.
You went back to bed and talked until the first rays of sunlight reached the edge of the bed.
Harry woke up a few hours later, feeling you move in your sleep, and kissed your forehead. Holding you close again. He loved to feel your heart beating against him. You opened your eyes slowly and kissed his torso, staying still for a few minutes, then said, “yesterday you were in charge. Today, I am.”
It's been a long time since he smiled like that when he woke up, he thought.
You straddled him, lightly brushing his already hardening cock, peppering his body with kisses, from his lips to his neck, chest and stomach.
“You don’t have to-” he started to say, his last word turning into a pant when you wrapped your lips around his girth.
“Oh, shit,” he stammered, his hand gently resting just above the nape of your neck. Your hand clamped around the base of his shaft, you sucked lightly on his tip, then licked his length, eyes fixed on him. Unable to hide your smile.
God, you were beautiful.
You moved up his body, covering him with kisses. Then you nestled his tip at your entrance, and closed your eyes, lowering yourself down onto him. He placed his hands on your hips, letting you set the pace you wanted.
He couldn't believe that it was all thanks to the train he'd watched leave. That it was how you'd entered his life.
You smiled at him. The smile he loved so much, having the same effect on him as the first time you met.
“Tell me,” you muttered.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me how you feel.”
“I love you.” He didn't think when he replied, it was instinctive and true. It was what he felt, his greatest fear erased.
"I love you, too," you said, cupping his cheeks with your hands. Riding him until you came, and he followed right after.
Today was a day off, for both of you.
"How about we go to the coffee shop and get a cinnamon roll for breakfast?" he offered.
"Are you flirting with me?" you asked playfully. It made him think about someone else, just for a second. He was glad it didn’t work out, because he met you.
You got out of bed, naked, and he watched you get dressed. You were beautiful, and he was in love with you.
Today he was going to tell you about his job and how much you'd changed the way he saw the world. He was going to tell you about his scars. He knew deep down that his past didn’t bother you, but he wanted you to know everything about him.
He wanted to make it work.
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npt (tagging those who showed interest in the wip post, and some moots who might like it ❤️)
tags: (tooth rotting) domestic fluff, dancing, Frankie being happy for once, they are so in love it's disgusting, intimacy, some banter
summary: Two hearts find a rhythm of their own in the quiet chaos of a tiny kitchen.
word count: ~ 690
The scent of garlic and something rich and savory wrapped around you the second you padded into the kitchen. Frankie stood at the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, hips swaying ever so slightly to the crackle of an old song over the speaker: Cry To Me. He looked effortless, at ease—shoulders relaxed under the worn grey t-shirt that hugged his biceps just right.
You leaned against the doorway, grinning. His curls spilled wildly from beneath the brim of the cap he barely ever took off. You couldn’t help but marvel at the broad-shouldered man who somehow owned so much space in your tiny, shoebox-sized kitchen. After a moment, you whistled—soft, playful, straight out of an old movie—and the sound made him startle just enough to widen your grin.
Frankie jumped, just a little, spoon clattering against the pan. He turned, giving you a look that was half surprised, half sheepish.
“I didn’t know you could move like that,” you teased, crossing your arms and raising a suspicious brow.
He answered with that boyish grin that always unraveled you. The same grin that had disarmed you the very first night you met, back when neither of you knew how fast, how completely, you’d fall for each other. Crazy to think that was only six months ago. He held your gaze a moment longer before licking the spoon and placing it gently back in the pan. “You didn’t ask.”
Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, he gave it a sharp, theatrical snap over his shoulder, then extended a hand toward you. “May I have this dance, madame?”
You bit back a laugh, shaking your head, but still let your hand slip into his. “In the kitchen? Surrounded by garlic?”
“The best dance floor I know,” he murmured, tugging you close, his grip firm and unyielding.
The song swelled, and Frankie eased you into a slow sway. His hands settled on your hips as yours found their place on his shoulders, bodies pressing close. Every move was almost sinful, perfectly in rhythm with the music. His hands roamed your waist, firm and warm, while you looped your arms around his neck, smiling and letting yourself follow his lead. The ring on your finger caught the dim light, glinting with every turn, every brush of your hand across his shoulder. He held your gaze, thumbs tracing lazy, deliberate circles on your waist, the fabric of your shirt shifting beneath them. Yet he didn’t press further, just smirked equal parts dangerous and utterly, impossibly charming.
You leaned into him as the next song began—A Sunday Kind of Love—breathing in the mingling scents of soap and simmering sauce, marveling at how ordinary and yet thoroughly extraordinary it all felt. The happiness you’d both fought so hard to reach, the peace that once seemed impossible, distilled into this moment: bare feet on cool tile, music humming softly in the background, Frankie’s gaze gentle on yours, impossibly deep and overflowing with a love that made your chest ache.
When he dipped his head, brushing his nose along your temple before pressing a fleeting kiss there, you smiled against his chest. Softness shining between syllables, in the way he hummed along to the song, in the way his thumb stroked absent circles against your skin.
“Now I’m going to embarrass myself at the first dance,” you whispered, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze, mirroring the soft, warm look in his eyes.
Frankie shrugged, that familiar mischievous grin tugging at his lips, before giving your ass a playful squeeze and creating a little distance between you. “What can I say? You’re marrying a man of many talents, mi amor,” he quipped, turning back to the stove as if nothing had happened, though the heat of him lingered all the same.
You laughed, sliding your arms around his middle from behind, drawn to him like a magnet to its opposite, cheek pressed to his back as you inhaled the familiar scent of him, unmistakably home.
As the next song began, fading softly into the background along with the gentle hiss of the pan, you thought: how lucky you are, to hold a love that turns even the smallest rooms into forever.
Summary: He’s taken, and so are you. But when has that ever stopped you two before? With the revamp of your families shared annual lake trip thanks to Tommy. You decide to keep Sarah with some girl time, to which Joel is grateful for. Upon Tommy’s arrival you discover both his and your partners aren’t arriving for a day or few, you’re met with a plotting Tommy who’s got a few tricks up his sleeve to get you alone without the interference of anyone.
A/N: THIS TOOK ME FOREVER OH MY GOD
The trip had been his idea, “We should bring back our family lake trip!” He’d said, it’ll be fun. Almost every outing and hang out was his idea. They all had the same feel and all always ended the same as the last.
You, in his bed or somewhere functional enough to fit the both of you while everyone was off their asses drunk or long gone and home. Even the late night drives where he’d say he was making a run over by Joel’s to ”help” with Sarah but really he was sneaking you in the back of his truck. He is with a mutual friend you shared, you with another. You both knew it was wrong but at the same time it felt right, you both had been pining for each other for so long but it was always the same pattern. You were taken he was single, you were single he was taken except this time you both were taken. You couldn’t even pinpoint when it all started all you remember is winding up in his bed and the rest was history.
It was only you Joel and Sarah that showed up first, Jake had some work things to take care of before showing up later that night if not tomorrow afternoon, which is how you ended up driving Joel and Sarah up. As you all unpacked you walked out of your room for the trip and into the living room, Sarah immediately beelining to you.
“Can you swim with me?” She looked at you with pleading eyes.
She could read you like a book, the grimace on your face saying it all.
“Pleaseee? Dad’s already sleeping and Uncle Tommy isn’t here yet.” She pleaded.
“And I’m the last resort?” You fake pout, hand on your heart. “I’m hurt.”
She rolls her eyes, “Yeah yeah, you know you’re my favorite aunt.”
That single word made your heart swell.
“And what of Anna?” You look at her.
“She’s just with him for his looks and the money.” She shrugs.
“And why do you say that?” You ask, turning towards her mentally agreeing with her words.
“She doesn’t care for him like you do.” She says. “Kinda like Jake doesn’t care about you like Uncle Tommy does.”
For a freshly turned 14 year old she really had no filter. It’s not like you and Tommy made it hard to hide your feelings plus things with Jake were so awkward you couldn’t exactly blame her for her thoughts on it.
“Go ahead and get your suit on, I’ll meet you out there.” You ruffle her hair and make your way back to your room to change.
Walking out of your room you don’t see Sarah yet so you make your way to the patio door and out to the backyard. Dipping your toes first to test the water you nod in approval before sitting at the edge and letting your legs sit in the water as you admire the view of the sun starting to set. As you let out a sigh you soon feel hands on your back and soon water coming all around you followed by a splash. Surfacing you swim to the edge and push yourself up and out of the pool.
“Sarah!” You exclaim pushing your hair out of your face, turning to the girl trying to hide her smile under the water.
“Well someone’s having fun.” A voice said from your left making you turn your head.
There he was, Tommy Miller. You’d refer to him as the bane of your existence but you knew he was much more than that and so did he. Pushing yourself up and out of the pool you stand, water trickling down your body as you fix yourself. You could feel eyes on you, there wasn't a need to look or figure it out because you’d already known. Looking up you were met with chocolate pools staring along your body. Going to say something you were shut down by Joel.
“You came solo.” He noticed. “She got tired of you already?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “She'll be here late tonight. Something with her job came up.”
He shrugged.
“Jake's coming then as well.” You say joining the brothers. “If not tomorrow, if anything.”
You couldn’t help but notice the way Tommy’s eyes light up, typical you thought.
“Jared’s not coming?” He was amused. “That’s too bad, he’s missing out on the firework welcome at the lake.”
A big smirk on his face, you could read right through him.
“Jake.” You correct him. “Sucks for Ariel now doesn’t it?”
Arms crossed against your chest, same amused smirk on your own face.
“And it fucking begins.” Joel shakes his head groaning. “I’m not surviving this damn trip.”
“If you nap the whole time you will.” Sarah pips in, finally out of the pool.
You put a hand to your mouth to not laugh at the look on Joel’s face.
“Get her washed up and meet me in the front in an hour.” His Texan accent peaking through as he spoke, hand on his hip the other pointing at the three of us.
“Yes sir!” You and Tommy said at the same time saluting him, making Sarah giggle.
“Let’s go.” You shake your head smiling as you pull Sarah inside the house.
You were in the middle of helping Sarah pick out an outfit when she’d re-started the conversation from earlier.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice Uncle Tommy’s stares at you.” She looked at you through the mirror as you did her hair making you shake your head.
“It doesn’t matter how he looks.” You say. “He’s taken and so am I.”
You try not to show a saddened look on your face as you finish up her hair.
“So you admit it.” She turns to face you now. “You’d be with him if you had the chance.”
“Sar-” you are cut off by her waving her hand.
“I already know what you’re gonna say.” She gives a half smile. “Get in the shower, just don’t take too long or .” She makes a yapping motion with her hand and an angry look on her face to signify Joel getting mad which makes you laugh as you watch her leave your room leaving you alone with your thoughts as you head to the conjoined bathroom turning the shower on, letting it heat up before getting in. The steam and heat of the water welcoming you as you stood under the continuous stream letting the hot water sooth your body. Getting out you wrapped the towel around you as best you could and went to walk out into your room. At the same time you heard a faint voice followed by a thud, looking up you saw Tommy and jumped.
“What are you doing?” Alarm and confusion on your face as he leaves the door ajar. The possibility of Joel or Sarah coming in high.
“You look,” he stopped talking, hand coming to his mouth as he took in your features. You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched under his gaze. The water droplets along your collarbone from your hair. The towel is not doing its best to hide your body the way it sits just below your bum as it sits tightly along the plush of your thighs. You cursed your curves for leaving barely much to the imagination. He’d seen you before but it didn’t help the vulnerable and flusteredness you were currently feeling.
“You should go..” you peered out the door. “They’ll see.”
“And here I thought you enjoyed the fear of getting caught.” He was centimeters away from you. His hand came to your shoulder to move some of your hair as he ran his fingers along your collarbone and down your arm sending shivers down your spine.
“Tommy.” Your voice is small, you couldn’t help the way you felt. He drove you crazy. Looking past your shoulder he noticed two articles of clothing on your bed and smirked to himself as he leaned in. Breath dancing along your ear as he whispered.
“Wear the green one.” Was all he said before leaving.
Once the door shut you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Turning towards your bed you realized what he meant. It was a pale olive tiered sundress that tied at the neck. It was the kind of dress that you couldn’t wear a bra with which made you curse under your breath. It was beautiful but you couldn’t shake why he said to wear it. As you finished getting dressed you finished the last minute things and made your way downstairs. As you got to the bottom Sarah spoke.
“You picked the one I chose!” She came up to you admiring the olive dress.
“It makes me shorter than I am.” You joke as the dress did come to the floor, your toes just barely being seen.
“You are short though.” Joel said, making you nudge him with your elbow.
“Easy now, don’t hurt the old man!” Tommy said, coming up beside you. “You look good.”
“She always does.” Sarah butted in dragging you out the door.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
As you all arrived down by the lakefront you were immediately whisked away by an eager Sarah juggling all the blankets. Your legs doing their best to keep up with the energetic teen. To which Tommy couldn’t help but watch you attempt a jog in your dress to keep from tripping. The way it fit over your figure was killing him, the loose material swaying around your bum with each step you took. To the way it hugged perfectly in some spots. Not to mention the way it made your breasts perk beautifully. His mind couldn’t help but fantasize being underneath it. He couldn’t help but think of the idea that maybe, just maybe you’d be bare underneath for him to see. He’d been so in thought he didn’t realize Joel had come up next to him til his hand was on his shoulder.
“Wha-huh?” He turned to the elder.
“Jesus Tommy,” he exclaimed. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re sweet on her.”
“Come on.” Tommy rolled his eyes to play it off. “I’ve got Anna. You know I’d never be with Y/n.”
All he could do was stare out at you as take in each of your features.
“Right. And that boyish gleam of hope in yours isn’t the same one from the crush you had when we were kids.” Joel made a face before walking towards the pair. Tommy follows behind him, his arm immediately going over your shoulder making you jump.
“Easy now,” he chuckles. “It’s just me.”
“Finally you’re here.” Sarah says. “I found spots for us.”
“Spots?” Joel looks confused. “Like more than one?”
“There wasn’t a big enough section for us all to sit so we kinda figured to split up in pairs.” You said.
“By we you mean Sarah.” Joel cut in, knowing who’s idea it was.
“Dad and I are down there while y'all are there.” She pointed to a lower level and higher one of the hill making you curse under your breath.
“That’s fine right?” Sarah’s eyes peer between the three of you.
“Perfectly fine with me.” Tommy shrugs, smirk on his face. His fingers drawing circles into your arm, goosebumps rising as he grazes the flesh.
“Perfect!” She beams.
“Meet by the truck when it’s over.” Joel nodded and pointed.
You watch as they walk away, the feeling of Tommy's arm leaving your shoulder makes you turn to see his hand extended.
“Shall we?” He asks.
Declining his hand you begin walking. Tommy having to jog to keep up with you.
“Thought you’d like the idea of us alone.” He says, a not so subtle smile on his face.
You ignore him as you get to the spot sitting down on the blankets laid out.
“Come on darling.” He gently goes to grab your hand. “Can’t ignore me forever.”
“Watch me.” You say spitefully.
Tommy being Tommy, he took it as a challenge. Removing his hand from yours he got comfortable and sat back not saying a word. Your suspicions grew but you tried not to let it bother you as you admired the way the sun was setting, beautiful hues of pink and orange blend making your heart swell. Looking around more you took notice of how far you were from others. No spots anywhere together my ass you thought. As darkness set in you leaned back to watch as the first set of fireworks went off, staring in awe you didn’t notice Tommy placed one of the blankets over your laps.
“Thank-” that’s when you felt it. Rough finger pads against your bare thigh. You hadn’t realized the skirt of the dress bunched up so much til this moment. Looking to your right you see him looking off at the fireworks, a smile on his face as he moves it higher. You’d lost all remnants of self control as you sat there still.
“Tommy..” Your words are breathy and shaky as you finally reach out for his arm making him finally look at you.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” His voice is lower in octave making his accent much more pronounced, a weakness of yours. His eyes peered into yours looking for a sign, all you could do was remove your hold on his arm and he picked right back up.
“Atta girl.” He smiled, continuing his advance to where you need him most. Feeling his fingers brush against the top of your cunt, you bite your lip as his gaze was once again on you. A look of amusement and shock upon it.
“Naughty girl.” Tommy shook his head, a wide smile on his lips at the fact his day dream came true. “You fight so hard to deny yourself the pleasure you need and yet here you are.”
You gulped, swallowing the whine threatening to be let out at his words. You’d fought so hard to avoid him in the weeks leading up to the trip you for sure thought you could continue during.
“We’ll get caught.” You looked around. “Tom-”
You let out a moan, hand immediately coming to your mouth as Tommy’s middle & index finger trail through your folds. The ever growing wetness makes it easy for him to do so.
“Caught?” He whispered. “I think she’s not the only one who enjoys the thrill of that.”
His fingers teasing your hole some before trailing back up to run circles against your clit, head thrown back Tommy takes the opportunity to kiss along the exposed skin sending more chills through your body as he slowly enters you with one finger clenching around the digit instinctively.
“Easy now,” he cooes. “So desperate, so wet. Just for me?”
He’s speaking directly into your ear as he picks up the pace sliding a second in curling them slightly hitting your g-spot as you fist the blanket below you both. From his fingers to his thumb attacking your clit you were on the edge and didn’t know how much longer you’d hold on and he knew it.
“You’re so close aren’t you?” He slowed his pace down as he talked you through it, edging you more.
“Tommy please.” You whined. “Please. Let me cum.”
“I got you sweetheart,” he picked up the pace again. “Go ahead darling, cum for me. Let go, you're doing so good for me.”
The encouragement and praise went straight to your core as you clenched down on his fingers as you reached your high. Eyes rolling back, body going weak as your legs shook, you laid back against the blankets. Tommy removing his fingers from inside you and licking them clean.
“There you go. In and out pretty, breathe for me.” He brushed the hair out of your face from pieces that fell. “Let’s get you up and to the truck. Yeah? How’s that sound?”
All you did was nod as best you could, letting Tommy pick you up bridal style as he walked you both to the truck. Opening the door with one hand he went to put you down on the seat.
“You alright?” He asked, looking down at you from his angle above. Looking up at him your eyes drop to his lips then back up to his dark orbs. Hand coming up to his face you crash your lips into his. It’s like he’s expecting it the way he kisses back almost instantly.
“No one’s out here.” You pull away to look around, nothing but darkness except the faint light of the fireworks in the distance as they light up the night sky.
Scrambling to get himself inside the truck you immediately were on his lap, legs on either side straddling him. Dress bunch up slightly so you had more movement to grind down on him as your tongues battled for dominance. Moans slipping from Tommy as you rub against his clothed bulge. A small wet patch formed as you did so. Sneaking a hand between you both you undo his belt and jeans, Tommy lifts his hips some to pull them down just enough for his dick to spring free of its constraints. Lifting yourself up you took hold of him, you watched as Tommy’s breath hitched. Chest rising and falling at the feeling of your hand around his shaft. You can’t help but watch the way his mouth falls open at the feel of your touch.
Running the tip through your folds you let out a groan when Tommy bucked his hips. Sinking down your mouth fell open, no matter how many times it’d been every single time was brand new. The way he stretched you, the way he brought a sense of peace and comfort each time. You’d been so in your head you didn’t realize you slowed your movements until Tommy was pounding up into you. Gripping his shoulder and the handle above you couldn’t help the noises he was dragging out of you. Each thrust brought out something new from within.
“Someone’s enjoying themselves.” He whispered, you didn’t look down but you knew that goddamn smirk was on his lips. He was proud of himself, he knew he was the only one to get you this way and that single thing he took pride in.
Reaching for your chin he firmly grasped it making you look at him.
“You’re close, I can feel it.” He spoke softly and lowly, his free hand removing itself from your hip that held you in place and found its way to your clit. Using two fingers he drew circles into the swollen bud. The added pleasure makes you whine as your head threatens to fall back.
“Tsk, tsk.” He said, a subtle but powerful sternness in his voice as his hand came to your neck. “Eyes on me. I want to watch as you fall apart.”
He’s always known what to say to get you there. The mix of him on your clit and your hips moving along his dick your breathing grew shaky, one final bounce and you cried out in pleasure as you came as the finale began. Collapsing into Tommy his arms immediately wrapped around you. One arm around your waist, the other caressing the back of your head as he praised you softly.
“Easy now darling. You’re alright, I’ve got you now.”
The two of you stayed like that for a bit before Tommy removed himself from you and set you down in the passenger seat. Stepping out of the truck he tucked himself back in his jeans and fixed his shirt.
“I’ll be right back alright?” He leaned in kissing you before he left to fetch the blankets you both left in a hurry.
“You beat us.” A voice startled you. Turning you saw who it was.
“Warn a girl will you?” You smile, shaking your head as Sarah gets into the truck, Joel following shortly.
“Where’s Tommy?” He asks.
“He should be back soon, went to get the blankets.” You tell him. “I started to doze off and he brought me back to the truck.”
You put on a smile to distract from the lie you just spilled, to which they’d believed.
“Leaving without me?” Tommy faked being hurt coming up to the truck's driver side.
“Damn the plan didn’t work.” You pouted, laughing as Tommy shook his head putting the truck in drive as pulling out of the parking area before they got stuck, only for traffic to postpone them an hour making for a very antsy Joel that just wanted to go to bed. By the time you arrived back at the house it was 1:40 going on 2 am. Going around the back of the truck you reach in to grab the blankets.
“Leave them.” Joel yawns. “We can grab them in the morning.”
“Not when it’s supposed to rain.” You give him a look.
Grumbling under his breath he obeyed. As you walked up the drive way you took notice of a black car similar to Jacks. Maybe he did show up, you thought walking into the house you watched as Joel threw the blankets to the couch before a grumbled good night was given as he dragged himself up the stairs leaving you, Tommy and Sarah who looks like she’s on the verge of passing out.
“Do I need to carry you up there or can you walk just fine?” Tommy looks at her as she yawns.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll get there.” She waves him off only to jump at a yell from her father.
“What the fuck?!” Could be heard from upstairs followed by commotion. Looking at Tommy and Sarah you get up.
“Stay here bug.” You motion for Sarah to stay put as you rush for the stairs, Tommy already up.
“Joel? Tommy?” You call as you round the corner. “What’s going—” you stand there wide eyed at the sight before you.
“Baby.” All you saw was Jake and Anna in your bed, covered by a sheet. It was obvious what was happening but you couldn’t be mad. You’d be nothing but a hypocrite if you did.
“How long?” Was all you asked, now sadness in your voice just stillness.
“Since Elijah’s wedding.” He said.
Your brother's wedding was almost 2 ½-3 years ago. You and Jake’s relationship was going on for a year and a half. They had you beat, you had only been doing this with Tommy for 4 or 5 months.
“We wanted to tell you.” Anna finally spoke up.
“I’d say it’s best if you both head out. Not now. It’s late, but in the morning.” You give a smile.
“You’re oddly calm about this?” Confusion mixed with his tiredness all over his face.
“We’ve all got our secrets.” You say. “While we’re at it.”
You look at Tommy before turning back to the two on the bed.
“Tommy and I have been seeing each other for 5 months now.” You confess.
“I KNEW IT!” An ecstatic Sarah startling you all.
“Do with that what you will, I’ll be sleeping elsewhere since you took up my room goodnight.” You give Sarah a look as you drag her away to her room and sit on her bed.
“I'm sorry for earlier.” She says sitting next to you. “I had a hunch and I just.”
“Hey it’s okay. I’m not upset, things just have been complicated.” you pull her in for a hug kissing the top of her head, staying in that position for a bit til she falls asleep. Laying her back and tucking her in you kiss the top of her head and just smile down at the sleeping girl.
“You were right though,” you whisper, “Uncle Tommy does treat me better.”
Closing the door quietly you walked to the closet in the hall that kept all the extra blankets so you could sleep downstairs. As you went to reach up top a voice spoke.
“Guest room?” Turning you were met with Tommy.
“Seeing as it’s unaccompanied.” You shrug. “It’s just until they leave in the morning. And I’m able to wash those sheets.”
“Gross.” He grimaced. “You can sleep in mine if you like.”
The offer was nice, tempting at that. He could see you in thought given the silence.
“So you’re not alone that is.” His smile is small.
“I’d be alone if I slept in my own room.” You giggle. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you though.”
“See ya in the morning.” He said, You squeeze his arm as you walk past towards the stairs making your way to the guest room.
Some time had passed as you laid there tossing and turning. It seemed no matter what way you laid you just couldn’t get comfortable. Getting up you sit in the nook that was built into the window looking out it at the night sky. Looking around the moonlit room you peer over at the pictures, the one specifically of you and Tommy at age 16. You sighed caressing the picture thinking back to that time as your mind shifted to just him, you even contemplated going up.
“I shouldn’t.” You thought as you made your way back into bed, throwing the cover over your head.
It didn’t last long. After your last failed attempt to sleep you sat up, contemplating your next move.
“Fuck it.” You whispered as you made your way up the stairs and towards Tommy’s room. The door ajar is just enough for you to peek in and see him asleep. Slipping in quietly you make your way for his bed and slide in next to him under the covers. His back turned, giving a sense of peace in doing so as you turned away from him to try and sleep.
“Took you long enough.” He spoke, voice raspy with sleep startling you.
“You’re awake?” You look behind you before turning to face him.
“You’re not exactly the quietest.” He says turning to face you, making you roll your eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?”
You nod your head in response.
“The quiet was getting to me, I needed the sound of snores.” You giggled quietly at the look of annoyance on his face.
“I do not.” He rolls his eyes.
The pair stayed in silence some before you reached up and caressed his cheek with your hand, Tommy placing his on top of your stopping you as he took it in his kissing the palm which sends chills through you.
“We should sleep.” He says. “It’s late.”
“Mhm.” You nod, going to turn but he stops you.
“Come here.” He says holding the blanket up for you to slide into his arms,immediately cuddling into him you could feel yourself relax.
You felt—relieved?
Relieved that you knew you wouldn’t have to hide anymore. It was horrible circumstances but sometimes it’s for the best.
As morning came, Jake and Anna were long gone. It’d started raining as they loaded everything in according to Joel.
“Should have seen them eat shit on the grass.” He chuckled.
“Be nice.” You’d say.
“So this gonna be a permanent thing now?” Joel said in a more serious tone as he motioned between you and Tommy as he came beside you.
“I.” You looked up at Tommy as he gave a nod. “I’d say he’s about to be less of a pain in your ass.”
Your answer made them both laugh.
“I can’t say the same for you.” Tommy spun you around planting a kiss to your forehead.
“When’s the wedding?” Sarah asked as she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “Am I getting a cousin? Because I think you both should seriously consider waiting.”
You are an exceptional and brilliant scientist, but you are unable to actually make an impact since the world is so dead set on shutting down intelligent women. That was, until, you met your PhD advisor, a brilliant woman who helped you finish your degree and break into the world of astrophysics.
But she's dead now, and all she's left for you is a folder with a list of potential contacts of scientists who would be interested in your work. Interview One? Reed Richards Science Center.
Warnings
Implied Self Harm, SA attempt, threesome (f/f/m), open marriage, bit of dom/sub play, strap ons, some science jargon, face fucking, superpowers during sex, Eiffel towering, mentions of infertility, piv sex, avoid use of y/n as much as possible, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), alotta fluff/smut/and angst, starts pre f4 first steps but gets into the first steps story
Note
I've never posted on Tumblr before, this is cross posted from ao3! trying to navigate how to use this, so if I tag anything wrong please tell me I'm still learning <3 Ao3 link
Posting this later after dipping for like a month 🤠🤞🏼
[IM SORRY FOR DIPPING 😭, I was under extreme stress that induced a major writers block. I promise I’m working to the best of my abilities to get works out ✊🏼]
Tommy putting you in prone bone, his whole, wide, thicc body pressed down against you.
Tommy’s considerable weight crushing you into the bed, fingers interlaced with yours because he loves you so fucking much.
Tommy kissing your neck, whimpering, sucking and biting while his hips snap into you
Tommy’s mouth so lovingly on you, whispering sweet words while his cock drives into you like you’re a hole to get off in
Tommy burying his face in your hair when he comes
Tommy not getting up because he knows you like feeling him stuffed inside you, being your own personally weighted blanket while he closes his sleepy eyes muttering about how much he loves you
