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ellieslovr · 3 months

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mad love (e.williams)

a day in the life of you and your girlfriend, notorious killer, ellie williams.

-A/N:This is an excerpt for a longer series i’m working on, which takes place in that same universe. I hope you all like it, if so I’ll post the first chapter! important note at the end too :)

-CW:extreme blood kink,possessive ellie, choking, breeding kink, degradation, strap on sex, spit kink, finger sucking, oral fixation, body worship, praise kink, domesticity kink? (is that a thing?)

-i do NOT condone any of these things irl as a disclaimer, this is a work of fiction.

˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

It all happened in a blur. Ellie came home from her latest kill, still giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and she was practically bouncing off the walls.

She swings the door to the penthouse open and kicks off her steel toed boots, the same she had used to stomp her victim’s face into the ground.

She knew you’d scold her for getting blood on the hardwood you just cleaned, but she was too excited to care. She looks around for any sign of you, but all she sees is an empty room.

She checks the bedroom. Nope, not there. All of a sudden, she hears running water. She silently makes her way towards the bathroom, careful to not alert you. The door is unlocked, so she pushes it open quietly.

You’re humming contentedly to yourself in the shower, some pop song you’d heard on the radio.

With a devilish grin on her face, Ellie jerked the shower curtain to the side. Not expecting it, you scream bloody murder.

Ellie just stands there, beaming at you. Her eyes drop down to your naked body, and she wolf whistles. “Looking good babe.”

You roll your eyes. “You scared me half to death, you dick.” You reply. She smiles, reaching out to touch your cheek. You jerk away from her, and she frowns.

“Come on, gimme a kiss.” You shake your head and point to her clothes. “Take those off and get in here.” You tell her. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh? Are you trying to get dirty again?” She asks, laughing.

You whack her lightly on the arm as she strips off her clothes. “No, I just don’t want to use up all the hot water and leave you with none.” You reply.

She coos. “That’s sweet of you, babe.” She steps in the shower with you, letting the water run down her body. You take note of a few scrapes and cuts, ones that weren’t there earlier when she left.

“I take it they fought back?” You asked, a finger tracing one of the most prominent ones. She sighs. “Yeah, but I got him in the end.” She replied. You run your fingers through her wet hair, washing out some of the dirt.

“Who was it this time?” You ask. She turns around to face you. “Some rich dude who was involved with Joel’s crew back in the day. He fucked them over, didn’t pay back his debts. If it were me I would’ve killed him right there.” She groans in pain as you run your fingers over a bruise on her chest.

“Sorry.” You murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She continues. “I took care of it though, you know me, I hold grudges.” You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re still mad at me for beating you in Mario Kart.” She sticks her tongue out.

“Whatever, you cheated.” “I did not!” You exclaim, splashing her with water. She laughs, moving out of the way. You turn back around and start to lather yourself up with soap, when you feel Ellie’s hands start to wander.

“Babe?” You call her. “Hm, what’s up?” She replies, hands going lower. “What’re you doing back there?” You ask.

You know for a fact she’s smirking as she remains silent, moving her hand down to slap your ass.

“Ellie!” You scold, turning around. “What? Come on, you knew it was coming!” You shake your head with a grin.

“Hurry up and get washed up, I’ll start dinner soon.” You tell her. She nods and continues her routine. You step out of the shower a few minutes later, with her in tow. You’re able to dry off and avoid her wandering hands. “They have a mind of their own, babe!” She’d told you once.

Once you’re dressed, you step out into the kitchen and grab one of the cookbooks from the shelf. “Els, what do you feel like tonight?” You ask. She doesn’t reply. You turn around, looking for her. “Ellie?” You call.

She appears behind you suddenly, wrapping her arms around your waist. She buries her face into your neck and inhales, groaning softly. “Shit, Ellie..” You mutter, pulling her closer. “You smell so good, fuck. I missed you so much.” You grin, leaning into her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Her tongue darts out to run across your neck, making you shiver. She slowly kisses her way up, until she reaches your lips. At this point you’re desperate, so you pull her into a hungry kiss.

She moans into it, her hands wandering down to squeeze your ass. Her tongue slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. When she pulls away, you’re both panting. “Take me to bed.” You tell her, looping your arms around her waist.

She grins and lifts you into her arms, carrying you to the bedroom. You loved how strong she was, how effortlessly she could pick you up and carry you around.

You also loved the little things she’d do for you, like lifting heavy things even if you were perfectly capable. Her love language was acts of service, and it definitely showed in her daily life with you.

While your thoughts were wandering, Ellie placed you down gently onto the bed. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled up at her. “I take it you’re still on an adrenaline high?” You ask.

She nods, grinning like a maniac. “Mhm, you’re right. You gonna let me use you?” Her words cause you to blush. “Yes daddy.” You reply in a sultry tone.

Ellie’s pupils dilate. “Fuck. Let me take these off, baby.” She tells you as she begins to tug at your shirt.

You let her undress you, and she pauses for a moment, smirking up at you. “You didn’t put any panties on?” She asked. You blush. “They’re all in the laundry.” Ellie raises an eyebrow. “I just did the laundry.”

You groan, covering your face. “Shut up, you know why I didn’t put any on.” She laughs. “I know, sweetheart. Wanted me to have easy access, huh? Such a slut.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto the mattress at this point, and Ellie decides to take mercy on you. She slowly circles your entrance with two fingers, while using her thumb to massage your clit. “Ellie..” You moan softly, and she shushes you.

“Just relax baby, I’ve got you.” Her fingers move slowly in and out of you, making a shiver go up your spine.

“That’s my girl, so fucking wet.” She crooned into your ear. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers fucking you echoed off the bedroom walls, and Ellie grinned. “Aw, did this pussy miss me that much?” She asked, lips grazing your jawline.

Ellie’s thumb strokes slowly up and down your swollen clit, while holding you down to the mattress with her other hand. “Poor thing, she didn’t even touch you while I was gone? You must be so pent up.” The realization that she’s not talking to you, but to your pussy, makes your face grow hot.

It was degrading and demeaning, like you were nothing more than a toy, and you loved it. When a soft whimper leaves your lips, Ellie decides to take pity on you in her own special way.

You hadn’t noticed that she’d put the strap on, so you gasped when she pressed against you. You shut your eyes in anticipation and Ellie tuts in response, pushing into you.

She starts thrusting slowly, a low groan coming from the back of her throat. “You’re fucking dripping, baby. Yeah, this pussy knows who it belongs to, doesn’t it?” She asks, grabbing your face with one hand.

You nod, and she glares at you. “Say it.” When you take too long to respond, she slips two fingers into your mouth. “If you can’t speak properly, put your mouth to better use.” You do as she says, not wanting to push her any further.

She keeps a steady movement, her hips slamming into yours while your tongue swirls around her fingers. She pulls them out of your mouth suddenly, and spreads them apart in front of your face.

A thin string of saliva connects them, and she brings those same fingers to her mouth and wraps her lips around them. You moan at this, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts.

Ellie grunts and leans over you, green eyes piercing into yours. “Open.” She orders.

You let your jaw hang slack, and stare up at her. She opens her mouth, letting your mixed saliva trail down to her tongue.

She spits into your open mouth, and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her flannel. “Swallow.” She orders, eyes never leaving yours. You do so, and she hums in approval.

She starts to fuck you faster, her pace brutal and unforgiving. When you look away for too long, Ellie grips your throat.

“Fucking look at her baby, look at the way she swallows my fucking cock. No no, don’t you dare look away.” She grunts.

You moan loudly, nails digging crescents into her back. You feel a bit bad, since her back was pretty scratched up from her victim earlier. She didn’t seem to mind though, as she was currently groaning into your ear.

“God, you’re makin’ such a mess. You’re a dirty fucking whore, you know that?” She asks, reaching up to roll your nipple between her fingers. “Just for you.” You breathe, back arching in response to her touch.

She lets go of your nipple and squishes your cheeks between her free hand once more, forcing you to open your mouth.

She leaned in to kiss you, letting her tongue slide against yours. She bit down, causing you to yelp. You kept kissing her nonetheless, as the taste of blood invaded your mouth.

You moan louder at this, and Ellie kisses you harder. When she pulls away, she gives you a lazy smile, her eyes half lidded. “I should come home all bloody one of these days, yeah?” She asked. “Fuck you while I’m covered in it, you’d look so pretty.” She groans at the image inside her head, pounding into you faster.

She has a tight grip on your hips, and you’re absolutely certain you’ll have bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. Ellie speaks up. “Oh fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. You like that idea baby? You want me to come home straight from a kill and fuck you, let the blood stain your skin?”

You rake your nails down her back, hard enough to draw blood. She hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and continues to thrust into you.

“You’re a depraved fucking whore, nothing but a nasty slut. How long have you been waiting for my cock for, huh?” Ellie asked.

You whine in response, fucking yourself on her strap. “I’ll fucking give it to you baby, don’t worry. Anything you want princess, just say the word. I’d, fuck-” A particularly hard thrust. “I’d do anything for you.”

The weight behind her words and the emotion in her voice almost tipped you over the edge. You decide to ask her a question that’s been on your mind since the first time you found out who she really was. “Would you kill for me?” You ask her.

Ellie could’ve cum from just that question.

“Course I would baby, my girl gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.” She reaches down to pinch your clit between her fingers.

You moan as a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. “You spoil me too much.” You tell her. It’s half teasing, half sincere. She just coos down at you, speeding up. “Just take it baby.” She tells you.

You’re not sure whether she’s talking about her strap or her lavish treatment of you, but you decide not to question it.

“I meant what I said doll, anything for you. Cars, clothes, those expensive perfumes you like..” Ellie trails off, getting lost in the way you writhe and moan underneath her.

She takes in your soft skin, your pretty face and..how good you’d look carrying her baby. God, the thought alone could make her cum right then and there.

She’d considered it before, settling down, starting a family with you. She knew she’d have to change her ways for that, but she didn’t mind.

She meant it when she said she’d do anything for you. While the two of you did have a breeding kink, you’d never really explored past that initial conversation.

Ellie decides to test the waters. “Fuck, m’ gonna make you such a pretty little housewife. Gonna come home from work and fuck you on top of the same table we eat from, we’re gonna do such nasty shit-“ You sob, thrusting your hips to meet hers. “Yes.” You choke out.

Bingo. She’s got the green light, feels like she’s won the damn lottery.

She continues on. “Yeah, you like that baby? Wanna be my wife? You gonna let me fuck a baby into this pretty pussy? Gonna let me make you a mama?” You cry out, you’re so close, and she laughs condescendingly. “So fucking cute.” A kiss to your lips. “You want me to breed you that badly, baby? Stuff you full of my cum? The sneer in her tone was undeniable.

“Yes Ellie,keep me stuck here with you, bind me to you forever, please daddy-“

Your cries are cut off by Ellie, who lets out a loud guttural moan. She cums onto the strap, soaking your chest and stomach.

You follow soon after, a mixture of soft moans and pleas leaving your throat.

After a few moments of silence broken by occasional heavy panting, Ellie manages to catch her breath. “That was- fucking incredible.” She murmured against your chest.

You laugh. “It was.” You’re absentmindedly stroking her sweaty hair, trying to find the energy to get up and go to the bathroom.

When you finally stand up on wobbly legs, Ellie’s right behind you. However, her legs are shaky too, so she’s not much better off. The two of you hobble to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support.

Once you finally reach it, Ellie turns on the water to start a bath. She dumps some soap in, and turns back to face you. “C’mon, I’ll help you in.”

You lean against her once you’re both in the tub, and sigh contentedly. “You planning on actually getting clean this time?” You ask her.

She presses her face into your neck to hide her smirk. “Maybe.” She replies. You laugh and she lifts her head up, grinning at you.

You take a moment to take it all in. How despite everything you and Ellie had been through, you were still here. She was still here. You bump your forehead against hers.

“Hey.” You murmur. She gives you a toothy grin and brushes your noses together. “Hey.” You reach up and caress her cheek, and she closes her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I love you.” You tell her.

You’ve told her this tons of times, it shouldn’t be anything new. However, she stills get choked up every time you say it.

“I love you too.” She replies, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew she’d be there by your side.

_________________

Thanks for reading this far if you have! I wanted to drop where i got my inspiration for this from. It’s from a book by Eden Emory, in the club petale series. Inspiration for Ellie’s personality comes from Avery, a character in the third book. I implore you all to read that book series, it’s genuinely one of my favorites. Please heed the tws though!

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie the last of us 2 #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us 2

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lululandd · 10 months

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part-time psycho;

pairing: yandere!ghost x f!reader

wordcount: 1,921

warning: mentions of murder, implied cheating, jealousy, possessive behaviour

note: please understand this is fiction, i do not condone any of these behaviours irl (also on ao3)

summary:

He’d be out drinking with his work friends, he said. Won’t drink too much because he had to drive home after, he said. You don’t have to pick him up because he doesn’t know what time he’ll be back, he said. Some of his friends might get super drunk and he might have to drive them home, he said.

Those were the things you remember him saying before he kissed you goodbye.

You were roused from sleep by the sound of the front door slamming, and then people talking. There was an unfamiliar voice besides Simon’s, but you try not to listen too hard. But even your sleep-addled brain noted how odd that there were giggles and chuckles one moment and then… dead silence. Something felt wrong, the little voice in your head—the voice that kills people in horror movies, Simon would say—tells you to go check to see what it is. Groaning a little to shake the lethargy from your bones, you get out of bed and walk towards the stairs, but you only made it halfway down.

A woman was sitting on top of him, on the sofa. The woman Simon introduced you to months ago. His co-worker, his teammate, the person that has taken a bullet or two for him and vice versa. You can’t lie, she intimidated you from the very beginning. Their apparent closeness, their easy banter that you can never follow, the countless inside jokes, the way her hand always landed on him when she thought you weren’t looking, and her features. They were so similar to yours, and you don’t know which is worse, whether you came into his life first, or her.

Drowsiness left you as anxious dread seeps in. They spoke too quietly for you to hear, but you don’t care. Friends don’t sit on each other's laps like that, and certainly not facing one another. Feelings of inadequacy filled your mind as you walked briskly towards the front door and took off, grabbing whatever coat was on the hook. You just had to get out of there, far away from what you had just witnessed. Wiping the tears that blurred your vision, you notice your feet take you to the nearest pub, and you stand outside dumbly for a couple of seconds.

That night was bitterly cold, and you wished you had taken a thicker coat. Putting your hands in your pocket, you realise you have no money. You didn’t take anything but the spare house keys, your phone, and the coat on your way out. The slippers you're wearing are the fuzzy kind meant for indoors. Digging in your pockets, you hoped past you left a couple of quid in there. You found two tenners in the inner pocket, and you shuffled inside to get a drink or two.

The pretty bartender with the large earrings noticed you immediately and asked whether you need help and if she should call the police. Glancing at the mirror behind the bar, you saw you were a complete and utter wreck and she was right to be worried. You made sure to convince her that you were just sad and not some victim of domestic abuse before ordering some shots. She gave you a worried look before grabbing the drinks.

You downed both drinks in quick succession as soon as they arrived. The first burn hadn’t even registered fully before you chased it with another one. Today’s not the day for sane choices and comfort, you need to dull the pain as quickly as you can.

It’s funny, being tipsy. Your brain doesn’t even know when it started, you suddenly are. It doesn’t matter much anymore that Simon had brought a woman that looks much like you home, you can live just fine without him. It’s not like he’s the best boyfriend anyway, he left so often and so long sometimes you don’t feel like lovers. Maybe he had already demoted you from that position long ago and you were too stupid and blind to notice.

It took you a while to realise someone was sitting next to you. Letting out a deep sigh that definitely lasted longer than you thought you could, you didn’t even have to look to know it was him.

“Will you be coming home tonight?”

You’ve heard this tone before. It’s the careful one he uses when he knows you’re upset. The voice that is laced with sympathy and understanding. But this time you don’t know if that question was borne out of malice or legitimate concern, so you ignored him. The glass of water that the pretty barkeep gave to you looks very interesting right now.

The silence stretched for a painful amount of time before it was Simon’s turn to sigh. “Would you believe me if I told you I was drunk and rejected her advances?”

You were bitterly reminded of how she was sitting on his lap earlier. How close her face had been to his. How her hands had been curling on his neck, and his hands probably sitting on her waist. You didn’t see or didn’t remember, but that’s where your mind placed it, the only logical place it could be.

He slid his car keys your way. “Wherever you’re going, at least take the car. Don’t take cabs this late at night.” And when you didn’t react, he left.

You left the pub after your fifth glass of water and a repeated play of Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’—the staff were laughing while you heard one yell out profanities from the backroom—to check on the car. It suspiciously had your wallet, his hoodie, some cash haphazardly thrown on the front seat, and a large knife when you checked the glove box. You looked at your phone and mass texted your friends to see which one of them was awake and kind enough to let you crash at their place for the night.

One of your best friends replied, and you decided to go there immediately. They kindly offered their place for a week or two, but you ended up leaving on the second day. You had calmed down a little, and your friend suggested you talked this out instead of just making more and more assumptions in your head.

“The longer you’re not talking, the more your brain makes shit up.”

You joked that they just wanted you out asap and it ended up in a pillow fight that made you forget about your problems for a little while.

Driving home was the hardest. The scene keeps replaying in your head and your brain racks up the jealousy. How long have they been going behind your back? Is he just dating you because he can’t have her for some reason? Was whatever he was saying true, that he rejected her advances?

You found a parking spot not far from the house because for some reason you didn’t want him to see you coming.

As you opened the front door, you were met by two set of eyes looking bewildered at your direction. Simon’s arms were still on her waist while hers were draped over his shoulders.

Fuck these people.

Fuck him.

You threw Simon’s car keys on the floor and walked out, ignoring his pleas for you to wait and listen.

There was only one place to go now. Your parents. They welcomed you graciously, knowing you had a fight and wanting some space from your boyfriend even when you didn’t tell them at all about what happened. A week went by without any calls or texts from Simon, you decided it was time to go back and pack the fuck out of your stuff to live with your parents for a while. Why should you even think about being with him when he doesn’t even try to apologise. Living with your parents has reminded you what love could–should–be. Waking up next to each other every day, knowing they’re safe and within reach and not whatever it is you have with Simon where he goes missing for months at a time without contact. It was nice waking up to the sight of your parents chattering about, jokingly telling you to not burn the house down as they go to work, reminding you of your teenage years.

Thankfully Simon wasn’t home when you went to pack. It’s decided that you’ll only take your clothes for now and leave the paraphernalia for later. If you’re lucky, his job called while you were away and you can pack in peace.

But you weren’t so lucky.

“You’ve lost weight.” You jumped at the sound of his voice. Simon was a deathly quiet man when he needed to be. You didn’t hear the front door being open and shut or even his footsteps. He looked awful, his face unkempt with bloodshot eyes, his hair mussed, and his clothes dishevelled.

“I’m not wearing makeup so I look shit.” You retorted.

You had to look away as soon as you saw him bristle. He stayed silent for a while, his gaze focused on every facet of your face before going back to staring you down.

“Why are you lying?” His voice came as a quiet snarl, a low gruff that sounded like it hasn’t been used in days.

“Because that’s also what you’re doing.” You threw the meanest look you could towards him, and you’d like to think that’s why he broke eye contact with you. Unable to help yourself, you continued, “Rejecting her advances my ass, Riley.”

Hearing his last name, he proceeded to cut across the room and reached for you, strong arms instantly curling around your waist as he turned you around to face the open armoire. You felt the need to run, to fight back, but what else could you do but submit? The man is 193 centimetres of pure trained muscles that can hold you full nelson for however long it takes him to fuck you in front of the mirror until he feels satisfied, while you run out of breath carrying the neighbour’s fat tabby for two minutes. You are a little rabbit at the mercy of a wolf.

Weak.

Pathetic.

“I'm truly sorry you had to see me when I tried to lure her into a false sense of security.” He pulled you even closer, your back gently bumping against his chest. “If I drove you to where her head is buried will you finally believe me?”

Only half the words registered in your mind, “Simon this isn’t funny.”

Trying to wriggle away awarded you with a hiss and him nuzzling on the crook of your neck.

“Wasn’t joking, love.”

“Simon.” You pleaded desperately. You felt sick. You knew he was a dangerous man, but he had told you, convinced you, that he would never hurt y–

Realisation hits in a revolting wave of nausea. He had never said he wouldn’t hurt others. “Simon?”

“Yes, dear?” He muttered, lips pressing intently against the sensitive parts of your ears.

His hold no longer felt safe, there’s desperation and a dangerous kind of hunger lingering underneath his touch. “D-did you keep a trophy? Of her, I mean.”

You think if he could just show you some sort of proof, you could somehow take it and just start running.

“Why the fuck,” Simon’s voice was suddenly laced with seething fury that you flinched in his arms. “Would I keep trophies of people that caused you pain?” His statement chilled you to your core and you stopped trembling for a moment.

A choked, terrified whisper escaped you. “S-Simon?” Sickness curled your stomach, your knees buckled as you swayed. You don’t know when your Simon had left and replaced with this monster, or whether there was a Simon at all in the first place.

You felt his lips twitch and curl into a smile on the junction of your neck. "Yes, love?"

“Why was that plural?”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #yandere simon ghost riley #yandere!ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere mw2 #scuffed writing #scuffed yandere #call of duty #yandere call of duty

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sl4sh3rsub · 3 months

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patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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admirxation · 1 month

Text

unfaithful | leon kennedy oneshot

pairing: older!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: the reader cheats on their partner with their partners dad, leon.

disclaimer: this fic will deal with sensitive topics like cheating. this is a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write, cheating is a horrible thing to do and you should always communicate with your partner and shouldn’t hurt them. this is just fictional where real people cannot get hurt, cheating irl has its consequences and reflection of you as a person.

cw: slight mention of an age gap (both parties of age//18+), cheating (mentioned partner is gn), oral (f receiving), nipple pinching & sucking, neck kissing & biting, fingering, begging, p in v, edging, praising, unprotected sex and creampie.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this was the most voted wip that people wanted posted so i have delivered, im thinking of either working on my krauser wip or a gortash x durge (bg3 oneshot) alongside the perpetual chase. please engage if you like this and check my pinned post for any info on me or writing status, mwah mwah mwah xoxo

Another night in your partner’s room, lying on the soft covers as you watched their face as they drifted into a dream world, unaware of all surroundings — unaware of your unfaithfulness. You were thankful for how much of a heavy sleeper they were, watching as their messy hair framed their face, the occasional strand neatly dangling in the middle of their forehead; you could tell they were content, the perfect opportunity to fulfil a long-concealed secret. This was routine now; you would wait for your partner to fall asleep first, guaranteed if you could sneak a bit of caffeine before bed without them knowing, but more times than not, the adrenaline of knowing you were going to be with Leon helped you wait for them to fall asleep.

You knew Leon — your partner’s father — was waiting, so you slowly moved to enter the room of routinely secrets. You couldn’t stop thinking about him whenever you went over, having to wait every night for some fun. Leon was the one who started all of this; he was the one who watched you intently every time you came over; these looks that started the deceit. You continued to watch your partner as you tiptoed out of your bed and moved to the door where you always left a smidge open so the latch never made a sound, praying the floorboards wouldn’t creek and releasing slow and deep breaths when slipping away. While walking outside the room, you always had an excuse prepared, just in case they had awoken; it ranged from getting a glass of water, going to the bathroom, or even getting a snack. There was a part of your conscience that kicked in and made your heart feel heavy for a moment, but like every single time, excitement and adrenaline overrode your morality and helped you continue your route to Leon.

You and your partner had only been dating for a few months — meeting each other at college — but there was something off with them. The first night you laid together and shared each other’s bodies, you were expecting to feel excited, elated, and lovestruck, but you felt unfilled, even empty, after it was done. You thought this was just a one-time thing where you needed to get used to each other, but it kept happening; no matter how many new things you introduced, you only felt religion when you shared an intimate moment and tried to avoid it — but you never dared to express how you were truly feeling. You thought maybe it was a sign of your body rejecting them, telling you that you weren’t supposed to be together, but you tried to silence and push rationality away into an unconscious that would only intrude on an absent thought or dream. You knew you were a bad person; you never tried to twist this into you being the good guy, but you also had a selfish desire not to push them away, afterall they stopped your loneliness for a while. It was selfish, deceitful, every word in the book to describe this, but being with them was the ticket to a distraction for you and the route to Leon’s bedroom.

You felt the carpet against your feet as you made slow and calculated steps that inched closer and closer to Leon’s door, which was already opened a crack — the perfect signal of invitation. As you pressed your hand on the wooden door, you remembered when you first met your partner’s family. They were friendly and welcoming, and you were happy to be accepted in the family, but Leon was not just giving you the friendly and welcoming looks; no, his stares were a look of longing and lust as he stared at your frame, visually objectifying and seeing you as a vision of temptation. When you first met him, you admitted to yourself in a thought or two that he was a very attractive older man who presented himself well and even had that alluring mystery and darkness that made everyone want to get to know him, to break away that tough exterior front. The night you met him, you felt a tingling within your stomach that continued every time you shared a night. Still, that night, you two were in the kitchen, starting a suggestive conversation that turned to intimate touches on your thighs, then your waist, him whispering every compliment and dirty thought into your ear — and it only continued from there.

You quickly moved to close the door behind you and quietly locking it, releasing a heavy breath inside you as you sneaked around. Eventually, you turned to look at Leon; he was sitting in only his boxers, like he always would, looking at you up and down with the same playful and expecting smirk that would wait for your arranged nights together.

“Thought we agreed at 3 am?” he showed you his phone, showing the time was 3:15, playfully teasing you about your poor time management.

“They were taking forever to sleep,” you said, moving onto the bed beside him. Leon then pressed his hand on your thigh, starting an early tingle of excitement within you, “You know that I do come to your room… Eventually. When have I ever backed out?”

You both kept a whispered hush in your tone of voice, secrecy adding to the thrill that would conquer the guilt that momentarily manifested inside of you, but never Leon, from the seems of it. Leon continued to graze his fingers on the soft plush of your inner thigh, moving his fingers further upwards to your tingling and expecting core before tucking the tips of his fingers under the band of your underwear, using his free hand to place them on your cheek, his thumb grazing on your cheek to admire your beauty before he leaned in for a sweet kiss. A kiss that grew in passion, movement, and speed as he moved from your soft lips and made his way to your neck to place tender kisses, closing your eyes as you released your deep breaths and felt Leon’s soft lips and warm breath on your delicate skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked as you were a little hesitant in your movements, “Are you not feeling up to it tonight,” he said in a deep, silky voice.

“Nothing… Just a moment of guilt,” you confessed.

“I think you should be over this guilt… Face it… You’re mine now, you won’t be going back to them… Now, be a good girl,” he placed his hands on the hem of your shirt, waiting for your answer before taking it off.

“True,” Leon smirked at your acceptance, removing your shirt and throwing it to the floor, now met with your perfect frame and naked upper body for him to admire.

He gently pushed you onto the bed, your back feeling the cold soft covers, then a sensation of warmth from Leon as he climbed on top of you, his knee tucking underneath your left knee and moving to separate your legs as he placed himself neatly in the middle, leaning in to continue kissing your neck. You released laboured breaths and soft moans as he nestled his soft lips on the skin of your neck, occasionally biting you, sending a thrill coursing through your body and grabbing onto him a little harder from the sudden but frequent surprise. Moving lower and placing sweet and small kisses as he moved to your exposed breasts, using his tongue to swirl around your erect nipple, his hand giving attention to the other as he squeezed the bud as he licked and sucked the other.

“Fuck,” you released in a hushed whisper, arching your back the harder he would have fun with your body, that previous guilt melting away as you closed your eyes and let Leon take you into a sea of concupiscent sensations, “mmmhh,” you continued to share your thrill through the exchange of noise.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he said in that deep, rich tone that growled possession over you, the voice that made you forget every moral and every memory of your partner. You were Leon’s for tonight and every other time he desired you.

He moved his hand down from your breast, sliding it down your torso, making his way to your already pulsating core that was getting wet just waiting for Leon, his fingers now at your clothed pussy, him smirking with already being able to feel the damp patch, rubbing circles before removing the clothed barrier, dragging your damp pants down your legs and carelessly dropping it on his bedroom floor. You gasped at the contact of his flesh on your centre, causing you to instinctively grind onto his fingers; he looked at you with that lustrous darkness in his eyes as he gently slid his index finger along your folds, teasing you with only the tips of his fingers, asking for entrance then shying away; he continued this and played with your expectations, getting harder the more you held your breath ready for his entrance.

“P-please, Leon… Please,” you begged.

He smirked once more before gently sliding his large fingers inside your wet pussy, your walls of warmth surrounding them and causing his cock to twitch inside his pants as he saw you squirm under his control and the feeling of your heat; he moved them in and out, keeping a steady rhythm before picking up the pace, making you release laboured and deeper breaths. He watched your pussy, hungrily as you closed your eyes and bit your lip, clutching to your bed covers as he roughly manipulated your senses.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he said under his breath, making you blush and feel warm as he complimented you and made you feel like your body belonged under Leon’s.

He watched you intently as he continued to ram his fingers inside you, watching your chest rise and collapse under your breathing patterns, waiting for when you were going to release yourself; just as you were about to release, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, seeing a blurred vision — but then it all stopped. Disappointed, you opened your eyes and looked at Leon, hungry for more. You were disappointed when you were so close; it felt cruel not to allow you that sweet release.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart… I won’t leave you like that,” he cooed as he lowered himself to have his face align with your wet pussy; he felt his hard cock press against the bed.

He teased you with small licks along your slit, causing a shiver to run down your spin, biting your lip as you waited for more; Leon then pressed his lips on your puffy clit, sucking the sensitive bud that made your squirm under his manipulation, your unfaithfulness was something your forget about with the waves and tides of pleasure and sensation. His fingers went back inside to feel your walls as he continued to suck and pump his fingers, you clenching onto the covers again. But he stopped again just as you were grinding your hips into his mouth.

He loved to toy with you.

You saw that smirk he had as he raised himself and took his pants off, revealing his hard and throbbing erection that was begging to be inside of you; you blushed and felt a wave of warmness slide within your body before he pressed his tip along your slit, teasing you more and more with pressing only the head inside you, then moving out. In and out, he continued, and a jolt of arousal spiked within Leon as he saw your expecting face and your disappointment every time.

“How much do you want me?”

“S-so much, p-please… I want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Come on, sweetheart; you can beg a little better than that… Start again,” he continued to slightly move his hips as he teased you with the tip of his large cock.

“J-j-just fuck me… Please, I’m all yours; just do it already,” you continued to beg, feeling agitated and wanting to feel what you had come over for; you liked and hated how much control he had over your desires.

Leon loved how much control he had over you; you were his; you were only your partners in social titles, but your body was connected with Leon, and he hoped you would remain connected through your need and desire to be consumed by your appetite for him and his body. Just when he had felt like you begged him enough, proved you wanted, no, yearned for him, he forcefully rammed his length inside of you, causing you to release a high-pitched yelp and the causation of your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to grow accustomed to his length.

“Shhh, shh, shh, not a sound out of that pretty little mouth of yours… We don’t want them to know,” he cooed to you as he placed his rough, calloused hands on your waist and thrusted himself inside your cunt.

“Mmmh,” you continued, moaning and trying to keep your level of noise to a minimum, not wanting the night to be interrupted by the secret being known.

You felt the tip of Leon’s cock kiss your cervix, feeling like it was getting bruised with his handling of you and the length that he pumped inside and out. Immoral unfaithfulness felt so good; it was wrong, and this shouldn’t happen, but it all slipped away when Leon had his way with you. Lost in your sensations when giving your body to him freely and letting your walls clasp around his member, an intimate embrace that begged for Leon never to stop and never to leave you wanting more.

The room was full of the sound of your sweet moans, Leon’s deep and laboured breaths as he pumped himself deeper and deeper into your sweet pussy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he continued to praise you, watching as your tits bounced with every thrust he pounded into you; he saw you as a vision of beauty and temptation he needed to indulge himself into every time he was in your presence.

Just as he was lost in his admiration for you, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you bit your soft bottom lip, gripping your hands on his arms as he continued to fuck you senseless, finally being able to release that built up arousal from him constantly teasing you. He could tell by how your body tensed up and how your face seemed like it drifted off into another world; he took this as an invitation to release a pool of warmth inside you, leaving you both to gasp for air as you finished and left to process how good it was to share each other’s company.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #older!leon kennedy #leon kennedy infinite darkness #infinite darkness leon #leon s kennedy x fem! reader #older!leon kennedy x fem!reader #cheating #read the warnings

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callmelola111 · 5 months

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K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

✄ - - - - inspo track - - - - bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

| ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3.

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no.

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew.

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints.

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it.

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger.

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow.

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay”

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say.

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone.

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth.

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.”

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.” Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat.

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock.

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes.

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts.

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?”

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl.

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw.

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I’m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.”

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.”

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy.

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark.

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted.

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own.

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!”

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes.

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged.

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly.

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

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inmyheadimobsessed · 1 year

Text

More Than I Should {pt. 1}

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

series summary: riri williams hated you. from the cold stares and the snide remarks, there was no other conclusion to be drawn. the logical response in this circumstance would be to ignore her, avoid her at all costs. you weren't friends, so this should be an easy task. you only had one class with her, and you rarely saw her around campus outside of it. that was until you started dating her best friend. suddenly you'd found yourself thrusted directly into her life, and suddenly her attitude towards you was becoming an issue. you were never one to care what people thought of you, but something about riri captured your need to please. it was easy to convince yourself you only cared because of your boyfriend. she was his best friend, so the two of you needed to get along. he was none the wiser, chalking her coldness toward you up to her naturally standoffish nature. but you knew better. one way or another, riri williams was going to like you, you would make sure of it. (or the one where you're on a mission to make your boyfriend's best friend like you and the two of you end up falling for each other instead)

chapter summary: riri likes to stare, you'd gathered. she hates you, but enjoys watching you. everything she does leaves flustered and confused, and craving her approval. all of which goes unnoticed by your boyfriend. a party leads to drinking and drinking leads to riri reluctantly driving you home, where she extends a slither of kindness.

word count: 9.4k

contains: angst, CHEATING, fluff, smut (eventually) 18+, reader has a boyfriend, friendship betrayal, lying, riri is mean (at first), reader is a baby gay (very confused), jealousy, slow burn (kinda), and just a lot of mess

tags: @verachii @szalipcombo @rxcently @coolestgay @widowmakker @fetchyourlife @blackgcomica @n7cje @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @shinsousliya @bratydoll @shuriswifereal @shuriri4life @letitias-fav @axailslink @chidinma @xoxo-dede @yvxmpire @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @quintessencewrites @adeola-the-explorer @dejaonline @bubshri @zayswriting @la-reine-insane @shurisjournal

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: soo this is gonna be a series. this idea came to me while i was listening to some of my favorite sapphic cheater bops, specifically 'ur best friend' by kehlani & kiana ledé and 'more than i should' also by kehlani & jessie reyez, hence the name. i think we can gather two things here: 1. i love kehlani and 2. i love sapphic cheaters and i will always root for them. so fun! if cheating is not something you enjoy reading about, please do not read this fic because i plan to make it very messy lol. obviously i don't condone cheating irl or whatever, this is FICTIONAL! i feel like i have to say that idk. but for my chaos enjoyers, this is for you. mwah <33

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“You know she hates me right?” Your eyes climbed your boyfriend's lanky frame. You watched his laugh build from his core: abs flexing under his white T-Shirt, throat bobbing as his neck sprung backward, allowing the glorious sound to escape his lips. Loud, genuine, hearty — this was the only way Hakeem knew how to laugh. It consumed his entire face, breaking his deep dimples free every time.

A smile of your own was inevitable. Hakeem’s laugh made you laugh, but you were being one hundred percent serious with your accusations. “She does. That girl cannot stand me. And I know she don't want me here.”

“She don't hate you, she just… needs more time to warm up to you. She don't really like new people like that.” His laughter subsided and he lifted his fist to bang on the large garage door. It was obnoxiously loud, echoing in your ears and you winced. You rolled your eyes, at his words and at his actions. How much more warming did she need to do? Was three months not enough time to warm up to a person?

She should be sweltering. “Yeah well, she need to speed up the damn process cause I ain't going nowhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes brimming with curiosity. “Oh, you not?”

“No. We locked in buddy, and your lil best friend need to get on board with that.” You couldn't fight your pout and his eyes softened the moment he noticed it.

He cupped your cheek, palm warm and calloused as you nuzzled into it. “I know how important it is for you to be liked. Just give it a little longer okay? She gon come around.”

You nodded and he kissed you gently. The door swung open then, but Hakeem refused to pull away. You, on the other hand, couldn't stand the idea of her watching you kiss him. When you broke apart, you weren't the least bit surprised to find her eyes already on you. It was a habit of hers, studying you, sizing you up. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking; Riri's expression broadcasted just how she felt about your being there. Her stare was intense too, and it made you feel exposed. Brown eyes housing the potential to heat, glared at you in the coldest of ways, shooting darts of ice right into your chest.

Hakeem was incorrect in his assumption about your need to be liked, the opinions of strangers mattered very little to you. But you let him believe that was the case, you thought it easier than admitting the truth. Riri’s opinion of you mattered for some reason, hers alone. That was the truth. An innocent one on the surface, she was your boyfriend's best friend. She was important to him, which in turn made her judgment important to you. However, the crippling guilt you felt each time you thought of her, and sought her approval made you acutely aware that your truth was not solely pure.

There was something else there and you refused to understand it. You weren't entirely sure you even could if you tried.

“Nigga why the fuck you banging on my shit like the feds?” She stepped aside, letting the two of you in as she gave you another once-over. “And why you brought her non-smoking ass? She not gon do nothing but sit there.”

Hakeem laughed, winking at you as he tugged you along past Riri, but you couldn't find the joke. He shrugged, “She wanted to come.”

“To do what?”

You ignored their back and forth about you. It was their pattern and quite frankly you couldn't bring yourself to be bothered. Being the center of attention was sometimes entertaining.

“Bruh chill. She not gon do nothing, just let her hang.”

Riri rolled her eyes, “That’s exactly my point. Her energy be fucking up my vibe and shit.”

You roamed the partially messy space, taking interest in some blueprints Riri had pinned to her board. It was your first time in her garage so you couldn't help your fascination. Being amongst her sketches, her creations, her tools; it was like stepping inside her brain. According to Hakeem, she only invited those who she trusted. Your being there was obviously not for that reason, but you were flattered nonetheless. Her willingness to let you in the door was something, right?

Fingers traced the images before you as your curiosity flared. Some of the diagrams looked familiar, but with a twist only achievable by the young scientist. You could tell a lot of work was put into all of it. Skilled, meticulous. “Riri, what are you building? This looks really cool.”

Her head snapped up and she darted to your side, completely abandoning her bickering with your boyfriend. “Don't touch that. Move.”

“We went over something similar in class, I was just wondering–” You reached for the paper once more, eyes twinkling in amazement, but you startled when she ripped it down.

Annoyance buzzed off her as she balled it up and tossed it into the trash. “See why ion want her around? She don't mind her damn business Keem.”

You eyed her, confused. You truly saw no issue with admiring her work. You appreciated a great mind, but maybe you’d offended her in some way. “Sorry Riri, I didn't mean to–”

“Well, you did.”

Hakeem spoke up, clearing his throat, “Okay nah, ease up on her. She ain't do nothing.”

You watched as Riri’s stiff body visibly relaxed at the bass in your boyfriend's voice. Her shoulders shifted downward in her orange sweater, slouching a little and she sighed. “You right. I just need to smoke, I'm kinda on edge right now.”

She turned to you and you caught a flash of something in her eyes. Something unfamiliar, something… apologetic. “My bad.”

When she spoke, her voice came out soft and rushed. Delicate, like she was desperate to comfort with words. A lousy ‘my bad’ was hardly an apology in your book, but for reasons unbeknownst to you, you were willing and eager to accept it. Being angry at her didn't even cross your mind. Her tone alerted you of her intentions and it was enough for you.

“It's okay.” A small smile formed on your face, it was quick, but she caught it. Riri didn't return the gesture, and you hadn't expected her to. You were content with the simple fact of her knowing you were not upset. There was a moment where you two stared at each other for longer than appropriate and you found yourself holding your breath. One beat, two beats, three; neither of you looked away. It was difficult, you found. It was difficult to tear your eyes from hers.

Hakeem’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer and he did the same thing to Riri. You peered up at his gorgeous face as he beamed, pearly whites and dimples on full display. “Aww look at my girls. See this is progress, Ima make sure y’all love each other soon, watch.”

You laughed at his enthusiasm and so did Riri, a rare moment of synchronism between the pair of you. Hakeem had that effect on almost everyone. He was inviting and convincing, impossible to deny.

“I'm finna roll up.” He let you both go and jogged to the couch in the back corner of the garage. Riri looked at you again before walking away. Those eyes, they knew just how to stir you, no matter the duration of the stare. Something always came alive when she watched you, creating even more confusion within you. You ignored it, because of course you did. Deciphering Riri’s coded glances was not a task you found yourself wanting to do.

A strange feeling barred you from trying, and you wanted no part in that either.

She followed after him and you after her, plopping right into Hakeem’s lap as you always did when the three of you hung out. Or rather when they hung out and you third wheeled. No matter, you had to solidify your place in his life, she needed to know you were there to stay. Riri Williams needed to grow used to having you around.

•••

“Just pick up the damn cards nigga, on my momma you doing too much.” He sounded amused, but his words housed a twinge of irritation. This tone of voice, the over-exaggerated drawl on syllables, was one you knew well as a girlfriend who enjoyed pushing buttons.

Riri shook her head, hellbent on ignoring him. “Y’all cheating cause how y’all both dropped two draw fours on me? Nah, I ain't picking up shit.”

“Bro, just pick up the cards.”

You looked between the two of them, holding your own cards to your chest. You’d moved out of Hakeem’s lap when he asked you to play, still using the space as a leg rest. His fingers massaged your ankle and toyed with your gold anklet as you sat silently, enjoying the show they were putting on for you.

He was adamant about making her pick up all eight cards, but Riri refused to let up. Firm in her belief that you two were cheating. You were, but of course, you had no plans to admit that. He’d slipped you the card when she inhaled the last pull of the blunt and you giggled.

“If I pick them up, how I know you don't got four more shoved up your ass just waiting to fuck with me again? No.”

This got a laugh out of you and Hakeem smack your foot. Riri was too smart for her own good, there should be no way for her to know you were working against her, but alas.

Hakeem stood his ground, declaring his innocence yet again but she was not buying it. “Man come on, you messing up the game.”

“Well, game over now. Cause I know y’all cheating. I don't care.” Riri threw her remaining cards onto the weathered coffee table, kicking her feet up onto the sofa.

“Bruh, why you can't just take the L and move on?”

She laughed, glancing at him as he threw his head back in frustration. He’d really believed he could win the game amidst his scheme, it was adorable. You took this as an opportunity to crawl back into his cargo-clad lap to cuddle and console him.

“Aww, baby, I'm sorry you lost.” Your head found his chest, poking his stomach and he chuckled. Hakeem was nothing short of a big baby, whining and huffing whenever he didn't get his way. You possessed the skills to end all his theatrics though, one method being tickling.

He laughed under your touch, kissing your forehead before shutting his eyes. Eyes. A different set was on you. When you peered across the space, the culprit revealed themself. Riri was watching you again, this time in sheer disgust. Her scowl was a thing of nightmares and it unnerved you. Suddenly you felt embarrassed, ashamed to have shown your boyfriend even the slightest drop of affection.

An overt expression of disdain; the scientist seemed shameless as her eyes flung sharp daggers in your direction. The look sliced at your skin, once again leaving you feeling bare.

“What?” You questioned, voice a dry croak.

Riri rolled her eyes and sat up, repeating your question mockingly. “What?”

“Okay...” You decided not to press it and went back to cuddling your boyfriend. Riri refused to cease her stare though. Hot, searing irises burned a hole through your flesh as you clung to Hakeem, who'd apparently dozed off at some point. Your arms looped around his torso, head against his stable chest. His heartbeat, consistent and calm like still waters, contrasted yours entirely.

The rhythm in your chest was but an uneven swell, rippling erratically the longer you held her gaze. Riri sensed your attempt to challenge her and she leaned forward, spreading her legs as she strategically placed her elbows atop her knees. The ends of her braids draped her shoulders, making her appear harder than you knew her to be. It was unsettling. Her expression did not falter, but you felt your own on the verge of cracking.

You watched her, unblinking, and she quirked her brow. Your sensitive skin tingled the longer she kept her eyes on you. Every tendon in your body pleaded with you to release them, allow them to loosen and cower away but you denied them the luxury. Two could play in this game.

Riri very obviously sought to intimidate you with her glances and it was working, but she didn't need to know that. You scanned her body, her posture, taking her in fully. Her eyes were bloodshot and barely open as she gaped at you, which somehow made the tension-thick air even less breathable.

The garage sat silently in wait, much like the two of you, anxious to see who would be the first to break. Riri’s whirring machines and the subtle snores Hakeem breathed out were the only audible sounds in the space. When he stirred under you, your body jerked. It startled you and ripped your focus from your consuming staring match with his best friend. You’d lost, just like in UNO. Riri smirked at you, pride in her victory evident by the way her lips curved. She got up, and with the utmost grace. Sitting down you appeared shorter than her, and as she strode closer to you, you grew frantic.

She said nothing as she towered over your body, still sporting that devious smirk. You weren't breathing and she knew that. Eyes fanned you up and down languidly, then she reached forward and you flinched. Evidently in vain because she was not reaching toward you, but instead toward your slumbering boyfriend. She slapped his face lightly to wake him, catching your eyes fleetingly as she did so.

You exhaled when she moved back, dizziness and confusion swirling inside your head.

“Wake up. Y’all gotta get up outta here.” She crossed her short arms, waiting for Hakeem to rise.

Seconds later, he did exactly that, yawning before pecking your cheek. The gesture calmed you a little, recentering your buzzing thoughts. “You kicking us out already?”

“Yes. I got shit to do and like I said, she fucking up my vibe.” A quick glance came your way before she turned her attention back to your boyfriend.

“She ain't doing shit, you just a hater. But we'll go, leave you to your super secret whatever the fuck.” He tapped your thigh and you stood, hugging your middle as you waited.

Once on his feet, he stretched dramatically, as he often did. It made you smile. He dapped Riri up before taking your hand in his and leading you toward the door you entered earlier. “Aight, Ima catch you tomorrow. Please don't blow the place up.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She chuckled, wide and toothy. You found yourself appreciating her smile. It was genuine and you liked that.

“Bye Riri.” You waved and were surprised when she cocked her head, acknowledging your goodbye. Warmth slithered throughout your system, clogging the punctures created by her watchful eyes. You grinned wider when you stepped out into the cool night air, walking hand in hand to your boyfriend's car.

•••

Tired eyelids fluttered shut for the fourth time during your lecture and your head descended to your open laptop, making you jerk up when your face collided with the keys. Your eyes widened as they darted around, desperate to know if your mishap was witnessed by anyone. Luckily, the number of students was sparse, and everyone seemed just as checked out as you, good. Everyone except for her. Much to your chagrin, Riri was the only person who saw you, because of course it would be her. The remnants of her light laughter caught your attention, making you turn your head to face her.

That everlasting smirk hung on her face as it did routinely, smug and jeering. Her expression displayed pity and you scoffed. How dare she pity you?

You squinted at her, shooting her a disapproving glower and she rolled her eyes in response. Within seconds, she’d returned to her own laptop, tapping away and zoning out for the remainder of the class. It irked you, the way she so easily dismissed your presence. Rarely did she regard you in the classroom, if at all, and when she did this was precisely how it always went. Like you were a bother and something easily forgotten.

When class was over she shot up, ready to book it out the door. Usually, you’d let her leave first to avoid any run-ins with her attitude, but today you were a little more than hopeful as you scurried after her.

“Hey! Hey Riri!” You called but she kept walking, short legs and tiny feet carrying her far. “Riri!”

“Oh my god, what?” Her head whipped around, knocking you back some. Regret bubbled in your stomach. You’d given yourself rules, usually, you followed the rules. Number one being steer clear of her if Hakeem was not present. It was for your own sanity as much as it was for hers.

Her bored pupils coupled with the uncontained irritation painting her face reminded you exactly why rules were a thing. Riri’s impatience was palpable and it beamed off her in heated waves, melting away your spurt of confidence.

There was no turning back now though, you had her attention. “Dr. Lucas is really boring huh? I almost fell asleep so many times during his lecture, it’s crazy.” Small talk accentuated your awkwardness. It was a curse, truly, and it was causing the shorter girl to screw her face up more.

“Yeah.” Her reply was clipped and curt, but it wasn’t like you expected anything more.

You blinked, breathing slowly in attempts to steady your racing pulse. God, her eyes were crafted with the specific intent to scrutinize. They scanned you, studying your mouth as it moved, pointless words spilling out of you with seemingly no end. And there it was again, that irritation. You had no idea how she did it, how she possessed the ability to rattle you so. With minimal effort at that.

“I took some notes, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open you know? It’s like man you really putting me to sleep when I should be learning, you should be teach–”

Riri huffed, cutting you off immediately. You’d prepared for it, but the action still stung. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Well uh–” You stammered, having lost control of the train carrying your thoughts.

She smirked, “Use your words.”

“Hakeem and I are getting food later!” A lie, but one that could easily be morphed into the truth with a simple text. Your boyfriend was the king of spontaneity.

“Um okay, have fun? The fuck?” She spun on her heels, ready to leave you and your gaping mouth behind, but you grabbed her wrist. A mistake. Riri looked offended, like the very act of your hand on hers was in some way insulting. Her gaze panned from where your skin touched to your face. “You’re touching me.”

You ripped your palm away from her wrist hurriedly and cleared your throat, “Uh, yeah I'm sorry. But I- do you wanna come with me? And Keem? To Freeda’s?”

“No.”

You’d seen firsthand how much she loved their fries, Riri had never once turned down food from Freeda’s, so you knew she was saying no just to spite you.

“You sure? You know I work there, I can get you all the free fries you want.” You teased with a pleading grin.

A spark of excitement flashed in her irises, and you were certain you’d hooked her. But when she opened her mouth, your face fell. “Nah.”

She left without another word and you frowned. Now you were irritated, not just by her rejection, but by your own desperation. Why'd you have to approach her in the first place? The outcome of that conversation would be obvious to anyone. You sighed because you were hungry now too, so you decided to text Hakeem anyway. He could cheer you up. Fries too, fries would cheer you up.

You: Hey baby, meet me at Freeda’s in 20?

Keem: Bet.

•••

You had about forty minutes left in your shift, but waiting impatiently for the old couple in the far corner of the diner to finish their meal made it seem closer to forever. They looked happy though, and you couldn't help your smile. The image of them made you think of yourself and Hakeem at their age. Would the two of you make it there? Was he your one?

He hadn't arrived at the time he promised and it annoyed you some. You needed his presence around as a distraction from your thoughts.

The conversation, or lack thereof, you had with Riri soured your mood for most of your shift. You just couldn't shake the feeling you’d messed things up with her even more after that encounter. The way she looked at you when you grabbed her arm played on a loop with every order you took. Her face colored in pure disgust, eyes wild and accusing.

The diner was small and not very busy this late in the night, so the quiet gave you too much time to mull over every detail. You munched on fries as you sat at one of the empty booths, but they weren't doing the job of making you feel better. Something was missing. Hakeem and his pretty smile were missing. He’d be feeding you fries and allowing you to pout like he always did when you were upset. What use was having a boyfriend if he wasn't on call to rub your back and feed you whenever you needed?

“Thanks, y’all have a good weekend!” You smiled, waving at the couple on their way out the door. They were your last customers of the night and you sighed. At least you could eat your cold fries shamelessly without the fear of judgment.

The door dinged as you popped the greasy piece of potato into your mouth and your eyes shot up lazily. A grimace formed on your lips when a familiar face sporting a soft, apologetic smile greeted you.

“I know, I know, I'm hella late. But I actually have a good excuse.” He scooted in next to you and bumped your shoulder playfully.

“No. I'm mad at you.” You tossed a fry at his face and he winced dramatically, grabbing his chest as if you’d wounded him. He was attempting to make you smile, but you wouldn't let him off that easily.

Hakeem wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and you almost broke. Almost. “I had a shitty day and you were supposed to be here to distract me from the shitty thoughts caused by my shitty day.”

“I'm sorry baby. My shit wouldn't start, you know how that car be giving me problems. I slick need a new one for real.” He pecked your cheek, soft and sweet and you had to wrestle a sigh of relief. His lips on your skin did many things for you, but you weren't done being annoyed with him just yet.

You pouted and he mirrored it, somehow appearing even cuter than he already was. Those pleading brown eyes and quivering lips were enough to make you fold. You grinned wide, poking his dimple. His reciprocated smile rivaled your own as he pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was desperate on your end and you whined against his mouth. If only he knew how much you’d craved his lips all night.

Hakeem pulled away and pecked your forehead, lifting your legs into his lap. Fingers rubbed your thighs, smoothing up and down, and you relaxed into the feeling. There was something amazing to be said about his effortless ability to comfort and soothe. It was so simple for him, so natural. His eyes were on your face, reading you as one would an open book. “Let me guess, Riri?”

“Yes. Your stupid best friend ruined my day.”

His chuckle lit up his entire face, making his chest bounce and you threw another fry at him. “What her short butt do now?”

“She was mean to me.”

“Ain't she always?”

You shot him a glare and he apologized immediately, throwing his hands up. “I'm sorry she was mean to you. I’ll make sure to yell at her when she–”

Before he could finish, the bell dinged again and in walked the devil. You groaned at the sight of her and she was quick to do the same. Riri had changed out of her hoodie and jeans from earlier. She now wore loose-fitting cargo shorts and an oversized Aaliyah T-Shirt with gold jewelry that complemented her complexion. Her braids framed her face with the middle part she rocked and they swayed past her waist. She looked good.

She stuck her hand in her pocket as she approached the booth, hesitant to sit in front of you and Hakeem. Eventually, she did and like clockwork, her eyes found you.

“Why she said you was mean to her?” Hakeem questioned and Riri scoffed.

The scientist sucked her teeth, examining your cozy position next to her best friend, “Ain't nobody was mean to her.”

You stayed silent, words have never been kind to you in her presence, so you thought it best to avoid them.

Hakeem grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and you smiled to yourself. “Now we both know that's a lie. What I tell you about easing up on her? Got my girl all sad and shit.”

“It's fine Keem. I'm over it.” You lied, scanning Riri's unbothered form in front of you. Her arms were crossed and she eyed the basket of cold fries you were previously munching on.

“Y’all want fries?” Riri’s reaction was the only one you checked for and sure enough, her eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree. They both nodded and you stifled a laugh, pushing Hakeem out so you could get up.

Before you went to the back, he reached for your wrist, eyes gentle and concerned as he watched you. “You sure you good?”

Your response was a short peck and you nodded.

“What I tell you bout giving out free food to your friends?” Your manager Benny quizzed with a hot glare. You rolled your eyes grabbing the baskets of fries anyway.

“It's just fries.” He groaned in response before walking away. Benny was all bark no bite, and he let you get away with a lot, not that you were complaining.

When you returned to the table, Riri and Hakeem were laughing at something on his phone and you smiled at the sight of them. Both their faces grew brighter when the aroma of greasy fried food hit their nostrils; they were practically salivating.

“Here you go babe, and here's your ranch,” You placed the basket in front of him and kissed his cheek before turning to Riri. “And I made sure to put that seasoned salt you like on there.”

Her face expressed shock, but only briefly before she grabbed the fries from you, fingers brushing over yours in the process. “Thanks.”

The first word she'd uttered to you since her infamous “nah” earlier and it made you oddly content to be thanked by her. You sat, watching them eat as you sneakily tried to take one of Hakeem’s fries. He smacked your hand away instantly, and you whined.

“Ion even know why you tried that,” Riri spoke up and you shifted slightly. She was right, Hakeem never shared food with anyone, not even you.

You cleaned up after they finished and the two of them fell into a conversation about Hakeem’s car. “You sure you can have it ready by Sunday? I gotta drive up to see my grandma, she in the hospital.”

“You know I gotchu man. I might actually be able to get it to you tomorrow if it's just your engine again. If it's something else, we'll shoot for Sunday.”

Hakeem shook his head and she looked confused, “Nah you can't tonight. I got a party to go to.”

Riri raised her brow, face unimpressed. “And what that got to do with me?”

“Wait lemme rephrase. We got a party to go to, all three of us. You gotta drive.”

Your head jerked at the same time Riri’s did, “Oh nah.”

“No.” Good to know the word was just as icy when she shot it at him.

He huffed, rolling his eyes at the both of you. “So y’all not tryna slide? It's Friday night.”

You shook your head, “Absolutely not. I'm way too tired and I got homework. Plus, I ain't dressed for no damn party.” You gestured to your work shirt, riddled with stains, and your jeans. Hakeem nodded in agreement, making you scoff.

“And I just don't wanna go.” Riri added.

“Look, Riri can just get you home, you can change real quick, and we can go.” He poked out his bottom lip knowing it would make you weak.

Riri’s dry laugh let the both of you know exactly what she thought of that idea. There was no need for words, and yet, she said them anyway. “That ain't happening. I already didn't wanna come here, but now you telling me I gotta drive her home, wait for her to change, drive to a party I don't wanna go to, then drive the both of y’all back to your separate apartments? And I ain't heard nothing bout no gas money either. You got me fucked up.”

She had a point. It was a lot and you didn't want to be a burden, nor did you even want to go to the party. You looked at her stern face for longer than necessary, and instead of snarling at you, her eyes softened. They regarded you kindly. Odd. But you took it.

“Riri’s right.” Your attention was still on her and you could've sworn you saw the glint of a smile under all that rubble.

But of course, Hakeem got his way, and you were now on your way to your place to shower and change. Riri begrudgingly agreed, but not before spitting a few choice words at her best friend. Words that you agreed with, words that made you giggle.

Riri and Hakeem sat in your small living room while you got ready. You were strapped for time, so black leggings and a simple backless halter top made the most sense for the night, pairing the outfit with your black and white dunks. Casual, yet still very cute. If you got cold later you would just steal Hakeem’s hoodie.

“Baby, can you tie this for me?” You called, stepping out of your bedroom. You loved the top, but tying it in the back was always a chore. You shoved your back in his face giving him no choice in the matter, which meant your accentuated bosom was facing Riri, who sat across from you.

Hakeem struggled with the strings; you could tell by his long sighs that he was frustrated, but you were too caught up in the way Riri sat silent and unmoving as she watched — no ogled you, to care. Her eyes honed in on your chest, gulping anxiously at your barely covered breasts. It was fascinating, garnering this reaction from her. She did nothing to conceal her stare. It was blatant and open. Probably because she was too caught up in it to notice anything else, like your awareness. She’d never regarded you with anything similar to awe before and you quite liked the look on her face. Hot was hot you guessed, even if she did hate you.

You smirked, deciding to play into it. “Ugh, Keem baby you doing the shit wrong.”

“I never said I knew what I was doing.”

Your glance alerted her immediately of your plan and she shifted uncomfortably. She looked flustered. Like actually flustered at the simple thought of what you would request. Being on the other side of this sort of torment boosted your ego, you loved it.

“Riri, can you help me? I know it'll be easy for you.” You sang your words, practically sauntering toward her and she stuttered. She floundered nervously, drowning in your sentence and your drawl.

“Uh, yeah.” Her voice cracked a little, but only you noticed because you were looking for it, planned for it even.

Your eyes traveled up the short girl and she cleared her throat when she realized she'd been caught staring at your cleavage. A grace fueled twirl turned your back to her, but said grace evaded your body the moment fingers grazed your spine. Riri gripped the strings, yanking them tighter than necessary as she tied your top. The harshness of the act, the bite — it made you gasp, trapping a bubble of air in your throat and you covered your mouth.

Your neck twisted to face Hakeem immediately. He was blissfully unaware and scrolling through his phone. Good. An unfamiliar sensation coursed through you, heating your ears and leaving you embarrassed at your reaction.

“There you go. Now can we leave so I can get this damn night over with?” She shoved you away slightly and you tiptoed back to where Hakeem sat on your couch’s armrest.

His smile was breathtaking when he looked up from his screen to you, eyes twinkling in sync with his earrings. “You so damn fine.”

“Boy shut up.”

Hakeem pulled you in by your waist and bit his lip. “Come here.”

A blush crept up your exposed back, searing you all over as he took you in. You leaned in to kiss him and he grabbed your ass, making you screech. “Keem stop it, oh my god!”

“You ready.” He whispered, lips padding over yours still.

You nodded with a smile, then pecked him again.

“We going or what? Cause I can leave y’all to finish whatever it is y’all starting over there.” Riri’s voice echoed in the small space and you froze just as Hakeem rolled his eyes at her.

He got up and grabbed your hand making you smile wide. You loved having his hand in yours, it made you feel protected and safe, even here. “Ayo why you always so damn grumpy? Do all short people be that grumpy all the time?”

Riri was not a fan of the teasing. She trekked to the door without a word, clearly not caring if either of you followed behind her or not.

•••

Sitting in the backseat of Riri’s car did not shield you from those eyes of hers. Each time she peered at you through the rearview mirror, you shuddered, mind racing back to the feeling of her hands on you. You couldn't stop thinking about how roughly she’d handled you. Your insides bristled and shame consumed you. Because you liked it.

There had to be a logical explanation lurking somewhere beneath your puzzling thoughts. Your attention shifted to the city lights now, taking them in as Riri zipped down the road. Maybe their gleams could give you some insight. Maybe you only thought you liked the feeling, when what you really enjoyed was the kindness she'd shown you. Riri helped you without protest, without contempt. That's what you liked.

With that conclusion drawn, you decided to give your brain a break, refusing to delve into the other thing she did that made your insides swivel. You refuted the idea of it entirely, tucking it in the depths of your thoughts.

The party would do you some good, help you unwind. You just wanted to enjoy good music, get drunk, and grind on your man.

Hakeem opened the door for you and stuck his hand out. “So chivalrous, oh my.”

“You know how I do.”

You gripped his right and he extended his left for Riri. For a moment she just watched his palm with a scowl and crossed arms, but when Hakeem brought out the dimples, she cracked. She plastered on a smile of her own and shook her head before snatching his waiting hand.

“Mmm, yeah. That's what I thought.”

If anyone could put her in a good mood, it was him. A twinge of jealousy struck you then. Unexpected and shifty as it arose — the feeling unnerved you. You weren't jealous of Riri or her dynamic with your boyfriend. That was never the case. Your mind had been betraying you all night, and this was just another instance of that. Alcohol would fix it, it would fix everything.

The three of you walked up the steps as a unit, hands swinging back and forth per Hakeem’s doing. You giggled lightly, widening your smile when you caught Riri doing the same. She made no move to shift her happiness when she grew aware of your gaze, instead she quirked her lips, aiming the expression directly at you. The gesture made you blush and you soaked up the fondness there. Housing it because the likelihood of it happening again was practically nonexistent.

Entering the house party was like stepping into a packed sauna. Warm bodies filled the tight space, bumping into the three of you as you attempted to maneuver through the crowd. Lil Durk blared from the speakers and a steady rhythm bounced in your system. You guys had barely moved past the front door before you began feeling sticky.

Liquor mingled with the rancid smell of piss and nausea threatened you. The flashing lights were not helping. Bright beams made an already dizzy mind all the more unsteady. How you were talked into coming here, a mystery unsolved.

You shot a glance at Riri still clinging to her best friend's hand and her bored facial expression told you she too regretted coming. Hakeem on the other hand, looked elated to be there. His eyes roamed the filled living room, presumably looking for the nearest place to get alcohol.

“Y’all want a drink?” He asked in that giddy tone of his. You should shake your head, say no, but you needed to forget a few things. A nice buzz would assist you in doing exactly that. You nodded and Riri did the opposite, finally letting go of his hand.

You trailed her steps as she walked away. It wasn't good to split from the people you came with in an unfamiliar setting, you thought, so keeping an eye on her was the smart thing to do. She trotted off to a corner, propping her back against the wall. By her stance, you could tell she would not be moving for the rest of the night.

“Stay here, Ima be back,” Hakeem instructed before leaving to get your drinks. You did not need to be told twice.

When he returned, he placed a red solo cup in your hand before knocking his own back within seconds. So that's how the night was going to go. Great.

“Come here baby.” You sipped your drink and he pulled you to him making you giggle. Hakeem’s hands found your bare waist, and you began to sway to the current song. The look in his eyes melted away any apprehension you had about the party, his touch once again providing you with security.

When he spun you, he hooked his chin over your shoulder. A giggle climbed your throat at the feeling of his wet lips on your neck. You pushed your ass back against him, knowing it would drive him insane. The low growl he breathed out was a confirmation and a cry for you to continue. You obliged, bending over and grinding into him hard. The liquid in your cup was strong as you down the last of it, tugging on a cough and you breathed out.

Unrest melted away the longer you two danced, confidence taking its place, no doubt brought on by the alcohol swirling in your system. Hakeem’s chest pressed tightly against your back and he allowed his fingers to graze your butt. Now that was something you liked, the sensation of his hand there, the way he touched you with care. He was asking for permission to go further and you granted it with a roll of your hips. An action that contrasted Riri’s earlier one entirely.

The icy sweep of his gold chain along your naked back sent a thrill through you. You smirked, reaching your hand up to wrap around his neck and he chuckled. “Damn girl, you better relax.”

His words barely audible, weighed down by the booming music. Hakeem’s cologne was strong and heady, and it made you all the more tipsy as you threw your ass back against him.

“Or what?”

He shot you a knowing look, making you blush. It was all calculated, he wanted a reaction out of you.

All the while, Riri watched the two of you from her corner. You were aware of it, her stare was a thing you were well acquainted with now. You looked up catching her angry eyes. Her expressions were usually the same: Irritation. Disgust. But anger was not at all common. What reason did she have to be angry at you? The look puzzled you as you held her gaze. There was a cup in her hand and the bottom of her shoe indented the wall. She seethed with each hip switch, eyes skimming Hakeem’s possessive grip on you.

You watched her lips wrap around the cup, watched her throat bob with each gulp. Something was off with her and you found yourself desiring to know what.

“Hey Keem, I’m gonna–”

“Yo, Keem that you?” A tall man you’d never seen before approached the two of you and your boyfriend let you go to greet him.

Hakeem patted the guy's shoulder and then hugged him, bearing that smile everyone loved. “Kyle? Whatchu doing here? I thought you moved.”

“I did, but I'm back for my sister’s wedding, the whole family up here. Dre back too.”

You watched the exchange, feeling forgotten as your boyfriend caught up with an apparent old friend. The conversation stretched on and he made no move to introduce you, causing you to grow irritated.

“Hakeem.” A stern call of his name caught his attention and he cursed under his breath, now aware of his mistake.

He grabbed your waist, sliding your stiff body closer to him. “Oh shit, this your girl?”

He nodded proudly and Kyle stuck his hand out for you to shake. You did not shake Kyle’s hand, glancing over to Riri instead. Her demeanor showcased less tension in her body and she was smirking a bit.

“Alright, my bad. I ain't mean to interrupt.” Kyle took your rejection seemingly well. The longer the two of them spoke, you began to realize he carried the same happy-go-lucky attitude as Hakeem. You learned that they were childhood friends, but Kyle moved down south when his father got a job offer there. He seemed nice enough, immensely different from the loser-y frat guys your boyfriend hung out with on campus.

He turned to you and the glint in his pupils told you he was preparing to beg for something you weren't likely to grant. “You mind if I go catch up with my friend Dre? I ain't seen him in years. Please baby? I won't stay too long, he just outside.”

You rolled your eyes, but allowed him to go. Your mind was still set on Riri anyway, and you made your way over to where she stood after he dipped out the door.

Approaching her with caution seemed like the best bet. You never knew what you would get with her. She saw you coming and scooted over a little so you could slip in next to her.

“You okay?” You yelled over the noise. Drunk students were now sliding down the steep staircase in laundry baskets and cheering. The act looked dangerous, and this was someone’s home, but no one seemed to care. Nothing mattered when you were bathing in booze.

She nodded, sipping from her cup again.

“You having fun?” Of course, you knew the answer already, and Riri’s look of annoyance confirmed that you were correct.

She chuckled into her drink before speaking, “Are you having fun? I mean your boyfriend just ditched you so…”

“He didn't ditch me.”

She laughed again as if she knew something you didn't and brought the cup up to her lips for the final time. “Oh, he didn't?”

You wanted to turn away, but everything about the way she sipped the liquid called to you. It was a thing you could not understand.

“Are you mad at me about something?” You didn't mean to blurt the question, but letting it out lightened the weight on your shoulders for some reason. You were glad it was out. Her anger from moments ago seemed to be quelled now, but you still sought a direct answer.

She turned to face you, leaning her shoulder on the wall. The outline of her face still looked good under the low light. There was a smirk there, on her lips, and it made you fidget.

“You do something to make me mad?” Riri raised her eyebrow.

You shook your head, “No.”

“Well there's your answer,” She waited a beat before speaking again. “And Keem ain't coming back by the way.”

“Yes he is.”

Your optimism made her chuckle again and she shook her head.

•••

Riri was correct. An hour had passed and Hakeem had not returned. You were beyond enraged as you scrolled through the dozens of texts you’d sent yelling at him. He left you on delivered, meaning he had to be actively ignoring you. Red blurred your vision as you seethed. It hadn't even dawned on you that you’d wandered away from Riri. There was a new cup of something in your hand and you swallowed it all, reveling in the sting that heated your throat.

Someone in the kitchen shouted shots, and you ran, knocking back four. You didn't care that drinking this much was reckless, nor about having work in the morning. You wanted to forget, you needed to forget. About Hakeem coaxing you into attending a party you wanted nothing to do with, and his grumpy best friend who congested your brain. You blinked, seeing only images of her: her lips, her smirk, her eyes on your boobs. It was all too much and you wanted to scream.

The group of girls you'd infiltrated were now dragging you back to the dance floor and you let them. They held your hands and they were nice, complementing your outfit and nails.

The upbeat song reverberated in your sternum, mixing with the liquor permeating your whooshing bloodstream. You felt light, like you were dainty and floating. Intoxication consumed your mind and reality was lost on you. Unknown hands made you jump when they looped around your middle, pulling you into them. The person wanted to dance and you were in no state to say no.

“You fine as hell shawty.” Mint and beer hit your nostrils, inebriating you beyond reason as you giggled. Their voice was husky and low, you liked husky and low.

Before you could grind into them, you were yanked away harshly. This time by hands you did know, hands you'd just learned. Riri's hands. “Yeah, Ima need you to get the fuck up off her.”

Her tone came out dark, dangerous, and it scared you sober. Wild eyes scanned the stranger. Riri, as short as she was, knew just how to intimidate because the person left jarred, and without a word. She scolded you with her glower, tugging you through the crowd and out the door. Nippy fresh air hit your feverish skin and you shivered, making you more annoyed. Hakeem was supposed to be there with a hoodie for you. He wasn't supposed to leave you.

You tried wiggling out of Riri’s grasp as tears began to sting your eyes. “Let me go! Get the fuck off me!”

“Yo what the fuck is your problem?” Her voice still housed that darkness, but it was less heavy now.

She scanned your teary face and rolled her eyes, obviously not moved by your emotions. She never was. “The fuck are you touching me for? I said let me go!” You weren't even sure why you were crying, but you were drunk enough to not care.

“Oh, now you got a problem with somebody touching you? Cause it ain't seem that way a minute ago. Letting random niggas rub up on you and shit like you don't got a boyfriend.”

You quieted. She was right, but you also wanted to get back at Hakeem for ditching you. The back of your hand swatted away streams and you sniffled. “Why do you even care?”

“I don't.”

You tried walking away, but you stumbled. Riri watched you, unmoved and unimpressed by your determination to leave. “Girl if you don't get your drunk ass in the car. I'm taking you home.”

“Don't need you to do that.”

She pulled you anyway, ushering you to her car skillfully. She opened the door for you and helped you sit, hot hands warming your chilled skin. You let Riri buckle you in and she groaned when you giggled at the contact. Your skin was sensitive and when she touched you it tickled.

“This is exactly why I didn't wanna come. I knew Hakeem fast ass would do this, leave me to deal with you.” You heeded her complaint as she climbed behind the wheel. So this was something he did often you’d gathered. Noted. He would definitely be getting yelled at and ignored simultaneously for the next few days. You relaxed into the seat as Riri drove off, kicking your feet up onto the dashboard before you lazily.

“Get your damn feet off my dash.” She reached her arm over to smack your ankle and you whined.

You really did not understand her problem with you.

“Why d’you hate me smuch?” Slurred words danced tipsily off your tongue. Everything was spinning and the city lights made your head split. Riri’s eyes darted from the road to your intoxicated form in the passenger seat for a few seconds, taking you in as well as your question. She said nothing and the car sped up a little, the motion shaking your stomach contents.

“Is it because I’m with Hakeem?” Silence again as she pulled up to your apartment building. She parked the car, sitting behind the wheel as still as one could, but it did nothing to stop you from seeing two of her. The alcohol in your body distorted her image and you narrowed your eyes to get a better look at her face. Riri’s face. She had a nice face, you thought. Pretty. No, not just pretty, gorgeous. Stunning.

“You like him or something? Is that it? You secretly in love with your best friend Riri?”

Her eyes rolled, “You're drunk and you should shut up.”

“That wasn't a no! Why you not answering my questions, huh?”

She was annoyed, you were annoying her and she spoke through gritted teeth. “Can you get out on your own?”

“I can do anything on my own, m’strong. Really strong. I'm like that iron girl from youtube.”

This made her chuckle and it bothered you for some reason. She didn't believe you were strong, that's probably why she picked on you as often as she did. Riri thought you were weak.

You moved to step out of the car, to show her just how strong and capable you were, but your still-buckled seat belt choked you and pulled you right back down. Riri opened her door, face baring utter frustration, and stepped out. She was at your side seconds later. Her arm reached over your body, brushing your exposed waist as she moved to unbuckle you. It jolted you, the touch. It made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Your senses were already at their peak, and that brush of contact teetered on the thin line between bliss and sheer overstimulation. But one could argue they were one and the same.

She felt it too, despite her unwillingness to acknowledge it, her eyes spoke it all as she looked at you. Riri didn't move, instead, she squeezed herself onto the edge of the seat just to watch you, just to take you in entirely. There was a sensation brewing, bubbling inside you. It was not unfamiliar; you knew it well. The feeling awoke every time she glimpsed at you. It was intense as hell. You’d never seen her use that stare on anyone apart from yourself. Riri was a girl who had trouble controlling her facial expressions, even when she bit her tongue. Riri’s face betrayed her, laying all her inner thoughts out for the world to read and learn.

It was easy to discern when she was irritated or elated. But this look, this one was difficult to deconstruct. It was a look reserved for you, that much you knew. But its meaning was lost on you.

You knew she disliked you, she made it exceedingly obvious. You were aware she hated being around you for too long. She hated your relationship with Hakeem, or rather she didn't respect it, she didn't respect you. But each time she looked at you this way, each time her eyes studied and stripped you bare, confusion bustled inside you. This glare, it spoke something foreign. It contrasted her actions.

Riri’s eyes were on your mouth. They stayed locked on your lips and it made your already intoxicated mind sizzle with uncertainty. “Can you make it upstairs on your own?”

“I-”

She sighed, standing up and sticking her hand out, presumably for you to grab onto. When you hesitated, she seized your fingers instead, making you flinch. Riri pulled your drunken form out of her car, holding your palm firmly in hers. You wobbled, and she placed a hot palm on your back. A touch meant to steady, you’re sure, but it did the opposite.

Riri’s fingers being that low on your back heated your skin and sent your entire body cascading to the pavement. She caught you though, seconds before your knees hit the ground and she pulled you in close.

“S’okay Riri, I got it. Thanks for the ride, but I think I'm good n-now.” Your attempt to loosen her hold on you was proven to be useless. She held you tight. Strong. Really strong. She was smaller than you, but her grip was sturdy.

She pulled you, and your back collided with her front. “No. You're not good now. And I ain't letting you go nowhere by yourself.”

“O-okay.”

She guided you through the door and onto the elevator up to your apartment hand in hand without words. You stumbled a little bit on the journey, but her gentle touch kept you upright. When you reached your door, she politely asked for your key and you placed it into her other palm. The door opened and you stepped under the threshold, turning to face her.

“I got it from here.” You said, leaning your shoulder against the frame and her head dipped in a nod, but she made no effort to leave. She was watching you again and you held your breath. Riri took note of your inhale, smirking slightly.

You cleared your throat, “Why can't you be this nice to me all the time? I'm sure it takes less energy than constantly hating me.”

This instance was the longest she’d tolerated your presence without scoffing or gagging. This was a lengthy stretch of kindness, much more flattering than her tying the straps of your top. You appreciated it, much more than you should, you're sure because it was all you’d wanted, for her to be nice to you. And here she was, offering it up without malice. So of course you took it, and of course you ignored the batting shame in your chest.

“You really think I hate you?” She bit her lip, eyes flickering to your fingers that were still interlocked. You hadn't noticed she was still holding your hand, but Riri sure did. The thought made you blush, releasing a gust of unidentified emotions inside you. They trampled and toppled your growing shame, making you crave confinement.

You slipped your hand from hers, folding your arms across your chest as you breathed out. “Don't you?”

“Hmm.”

Your eyes turned curious, narrowing into an accusing glare.

“I’ll text Keem, let him know I got you home safe.”

She sauntered off, hitting the corner to get back on the elevator. You listened closely for the ding. Once you were certain she was no longer on your floor, you huffed a long exhale, willing your heart to stop thumping, begging your blood to stop rushing. Everything felt off, you were exposed to the air, and it judged you profusely.

You shut the door hurriedly and pressed your back against it, rubbing the heels of your palms in your eyes. That entire encounter, as mundane as it would seem to any prying eyes, was anything but. Or maybe you were just drunk and your insane overthinking skills were wide awake and at play.

“Hmm.”

‘Hmm’ was not an answer. ‘Hmm’ only bred more confusion.

#riri williams x reader #riri williams x black!fem!reader #riri williams x black!reader #riri x reader #lyricswriting #riri williams x fem!reader #myworks #riri x black!reader #iron heart #ironheart x black!reader #riri williams fanfic #riri williams #dominique thorne #black panther #wakanda forever #bpwf

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depressedhouseplant · 3 months

Text

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 37 🔞

Prompt: Your ex married someone else, but a drunken hookup reveals feelings still exist on both sides

Tags: Drunk sex, cheating, unprotected sex, somehow this bitch turned into a wholeass fic

A/N: Cheating fics are my guilty pleasure. Cheating fics where they find out they still love each other is basically crack for me. I don’t condone cheating or engaging in sexual activity while drunk or high IRL. The good news is this is fiction so onwards! Also you can blame Mingi’s new song for this brainrot

“Mingi?”

“Yunho?”

Mingi knew he was drunk, but he couldn’t possibly be drunk enough to hallucinate a whole person. A whole person he hadn’t seen or spoken to in 5 years. A whole person who also happened to be the love of his life.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked.

“Bar hopping for a friend’s bachelor party. What are you doing here?” Yunho asked.

“Getting drunk,” Mingi replied. Yunho stared at him for a moment then started laughing. “What?”

“I guess that is what you do at a bar. Mind if I sit?” he nodded to the seat next to Mingi.

“Go ahead,” Mingi shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t having a series of small heart attacks over seeing Yunho again.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Yunho waved at the bartender. The ring on the fourth finger of his left hand flashed in the dim light.

“You got married,” Mingi said.

“I thought you heard,” Yunho said as the bartender slid the glass over to him.

“I did, I guess I just…haven’t thought about it,” Mingi told him. Yunho had married one of the richest men in Korea so even though their mutual friend group was torn on whether or not to tell Mingi, the news did it for them. “How would he feel about you talking to your ex?”

“He’s out of the country right now. Happens a lot when you’re a big shot CEO,” Yunho replied. If Mingi didn’t know any better, Yunho’s voice had an edge to it. Mingi also noticed that Yunho dodged the question. “Jesus Christ, are you drinking lighter fluid?”

“Just cheap whiskey,” Mingi laughed.

“Good gods, I think it burned a hole in my esophagus,” Yunho coughed. Mingi gave him a few solid slaps on the back.

“That’s what happens when you get used to the expensive stuff,” he said.

“Actually I don’t really drink much these days,” Yunho replied.

“Oh,” Mingi noised. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than 24 hours without drinking. It had become a habit along with a lot of other less than desirable traits. The breakup blindsided him, the marriage less than a year later knocked him back down, and he’d stayed there ever since.

“I mean, I’ve been drinking and I’m definitely feeling it. This was better than sitting at home by myself on a Friday night,” Yunho told him.

“Yunho!” they turned around and someone Mingi didn’t recognize was waving in their direction. “We’re going to the next place!”

“Well, it was good seeing you,” Mingi said. Yunho looked at him for a moment then back at his friend.

“I’ll catch up with you. I’ll text you when I’m leaving!” he yelled back. His friend looked like he was going to argue then simply gave him a thumbs up.

“I’d rather catch up with you,” Yunho told him.

“Isn’t really much to tell,” Mingi said as he finished his drink.

“Then in that case,” Yunho forced himself to chug his drink. “Do you want to dance?”

“Dance?” Mingi repeated.

“There’s music. There’s a dance floor. I would assume that means dancing is encouraged,” Yunho said. Mingi never really noticed the dance floor. He came to this bar because it was cheap, the drinks were strong, and it was walking distance from his apartment. Before he could form a reply, Yunho had already pulled him up and had him halfway to the dance floor. He let Yunho pull their bodies together and hold on to Mingi’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho blurted out.

“For what?” Mingi asked even though he knew what Yunho was going to say.

“For breaking up with you. I should’ve at least given you a hint or a chance or something. Now I’m stuck married to someone I rarely see and when he is here I’m just arm candy if we go out. I can’t remember the last time we kissed, much less had sex. I don’t necessarily believe in fate, but I was hoping to at least make out with a stranger in a bathroom tonight,” Yunho said.

“You came out tonight intending to cheat on your husband?” Mingi asked.

“I guess so, yeah,” Yunho sighed. Mingi was stunned. He never would’ve guessed Yunho was willing to cheat. It wasn’t who he was. Of course, a lot can happen in 5 years.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider me as an option,” Mingi said. Yunho responded by kissing him. He held Mingi’s face in his hands as his tongue made its way around Mingi’s mouth. Mingi returned the kiss, pulling them even closer. Their hips were desperately grinding together. Mingi hooked up with guys regularly, but none of them could ever compare to Yunho. And it wasn’t only because he had a massive cock.

“My apartment is 2 blocks from here and I’m up for more than just making out,” Mingi said when they finally parted.

“Sounds perfect,” Yunho agreed.

“I do have to pay my tab first,” Mingi told him.

“Let me,” Yunho said. They stumbled back to the bar and Yunho pulled a black card out of his wallet. “For both of ours.”

The bartender examined the card, but this wasn’t the kind of place where people used black cards.

“Okay,” he said. The tab was paid, the card was returned, and the couple stumbled out toward Mingi’s apartment. This was beyond his wildest dreams. He’d resigned himself to never seeing Yunho again, much less touching him or kissing him. Yet here they were, making out in the elevator of his building trying not to strip each other. Through some minor miracle they made it through the door before the clothes began to come off.

“This is new,” Yunho traced the butterfly tattoo on Mingi’s neck with his lips. They’d made it to the bed and Yunho was in Mingi’s lap, both in just their underwear. “And you never used to paint your nails.”

“I guess I’m going through my emo kid phase about a decade too late,” Mingi replied, leaning back and resting his weight on his hands basking in the feeling of Yunho’s mouth on his neck. Yunho’s hands roved over Mingi’s torso like he was trying to remember the shape of it.

“I think I like it,” Yunho said.

“Good,” Mingi replied.

“So, like I said, I haven’t done this in a while, but if you want to…” Yunho began.

“No, no condoms. I get tested regularly,” Mingi cut him off.

“How do you know that was what I was going to say? I could’ve been suggesting you top,” Yunho laughed.

“Because I know you. Even after all these years, I can’t forget a single thing about you even when I wanted to. You asked every time if I wanted you to use a condom and the answer every time was no. Also, I think we both know you topping is the better option,” Mingi replied.

“You’re just saying that because I have a big dick,” Yunho kissed him.

“Maybe or maybe why change it when it works?” Mingi told him.

“Fair enough,” Yunho agreed. “Personally, I think we’ve had our underwear on way too long.”

“I agree,” Mingi nodded.

“Lie back,” Yunho instructed when Mingi handed him the lube after they were naked. He warmed it up on his fingers and slid one finger into Mingi.

“Yunho, I,” he gasped.

“Relax, let me take care of you. Let me do what I failed to do before,” Yunho replied. Mingi’s heart clenched. What he failed to do before. “I assume you’ve been taking smaller cocks?”

“I don’t need forever to be prepped,” Mingi said.

“Just confirming,” Yunho grinned down at him and was suddenly 3 fingers deep in him. Mingi grunted in surprise. “What was that about not being prepped?”

“Shut up,” Mingi glared. Yunho didn’t reply, he kept opening Mingi up.

“I think you’re ready,” Yunho declared, pulling his fingers out and watching Mingi clench around nothing.

“Yunho,” he whined.

“Don’t worry, baby. Just one more thing,” Yunho took his wedding ring off and put it on the bedside table. Then he lubed up his cock and slid into Mingi’s desperate hole.

“You’re…shit…fuck…” Mingi grunted.

“Forgot how big I was?” Yunho teased.

“Maybe,” Mingi whined.

“I’m gonna take you slow. Make you feel every inch of me. You’ll remember soon enough,” Yunho told him, bracing himself on his arms looking down at his former lover.

“Please,” Mingi whimpered.

“Of course,” Yunho began to slowly undulate his hips. As he moved, memories came flooding back. Ones Mingi thought he’d buried forever. Their first time. The time on the table at his parents’ house. Their anniversaries. Worst of all, their last time.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Yunho lied on top of him and kissed his jaw.

“I can’t let you go again. I can’t,” Mingi whispered.

“You won’t have to,” Yunho replied. “I saw you tonight and I knew. I knew I could never leave you again. I’ve been paying for leaving you every day since I did it. I hope you can forgive me.”

“You can’t say shit like that when you’re balls deep in me,” Mingi looked at him.

“Too late,” Yunho kissed him.

“Fuck me like you mean it and I’ll consider taking you back,” Mingi ran his fingers down Yunho’s face.

“Well since you put it that way,” Yunho sat up, pulled Mingi’s hips up onto his thighs, and began fucking him harder than he’d been fucked in years. Mingi didn’t even have to touch himself. Yunho could make him come on just his cock. Yunho would make him come on just his cock.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Mingi hadn’t even realized he closed them until Yunho said something. Mingi opened his eyes and they stared at each other as Yunho tipped Mingi over the edge. He didn’t know he had that much come in him. Yunho kept going until he was satisfied that Mingi was fucked dry. Then he leaned back over and with only a few more thrusts, his cock was emptying into Mingi. Mingi relaxed even more as he felt Yunho’s hot come shoot into him. Yunho rolled them over when he finished so Mingi was on top of him.

“Did you mean what you said?” Mingi asked as Yunho played with his hair.

“I did,” Yunho replied.

“But you’ll lose everything,” Mingi said.

“If by ‘everything’ you mean expensive shirts and black cards then yes, but I’ll have you back. I’ll have the only person I ever loved back,” Yunho told him. “Though I might have snuck a clause in the prenup that I’m no longer bound by NDAs if we’re divorced regardless of why so I can keep the expensive shirts and black cards even if he finds out I cheated on him. Even if that wasn’t the case, I’d rather be happy and middle class than rich and miserable.”

“I never stopped loving you, even when I wanted to,” Mingi propped his chin up on Yunho’s chest.

“I never stopped loving you either. I was just an idiot,” Yunho replied.

“Yes, yes you were,” Mingi said.

“I won’t fuck it up this time. I promise,” Yunho weaved their fingers together and kissed Mingi’s hand.

“I believe you,” Mingi smiled. “I believe you.”

#just fucking write 2k24 #minors dni #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #song mingi x jeong yunho #mingi x yunho #ateez yungi

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