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#but only copped this like a couple weeks back
boinin · 2 months
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Happy Kunigami day! I have nothing specific in the queue for him, but I'll go reblog all the wonderful art people are sharing when I get a chance.
In the meantime, I always liked his expression in the coasters on Nomura-san's Twitter header. But I only recently realised he's catching the card lazy Chigiri decided to foist on him! Best boi 🧡
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praisethegabs · 2 months
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OLDER
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leon kennedy x reader
synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.
warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon
word count: 15k
a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❤️
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I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS
Life can be a bitch sometimes.
This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude. 
But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him. 
The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become. 
There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there. 
But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back… 
His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?
Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home. 
Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t. 
It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him. 
After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you. 
Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if… and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities. 
After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival. 
II. RINSE AND REPEAT
He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost. 
Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.
At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.
This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.
Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it. 
Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life. 
After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day. 
After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.
Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so… gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused. 
“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.
“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him. 
“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."
"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.
“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity. 
“I… have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.
“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.
“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.
“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.
“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.
“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise. 
“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual. 
At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you. 
“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile. 
“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little. 
“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so…”
“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean…”
“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”
“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.
“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand. 
Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market. 
His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality. 
However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast? 
“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi” 
“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I… um…”
“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words. 
“No… I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so…” 
“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings. 
“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.
“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings. 
“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves. 
“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again. 
"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity. 
“You might think I’m weird, but… seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense. 
“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time. 
“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings. 
“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it. 
“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments. 
“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase. 
“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity. 
“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier” 
“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood. 
“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise. 
“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips. 
“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips. 
The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself. 
He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life. 
Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks. 
What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong? 
His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!
The future is a hell that’s only getting worse. 
III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING
You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.
However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else. 
After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.
“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning. 
“Hi… um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up” 
“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again. 
“I know it's late, but… I was thinking about that dinner…” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and… talk?” 
“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him. 
“Of course. At seven?” 
“At seven, it is,” you smiled again. 
As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between… two friends? Could you possibly be his friend? 
Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions. 
Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other. 
Betrayal is the word that defines Leon. 
He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go. 
Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy. 
At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought. 
“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you. 
“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”
“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks. 
"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines. 
“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place. 
You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends. 
“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity. 
“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses. 
“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad. 
Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this. 
“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken… what happened to your neck?”
Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew. 
“I, um… got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past. 
“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage. 
“It’s nothing… trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine” 
“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek. 
Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it. 
“I don’t know what on earth happened to you…” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk” 
Leon was reaching his breaking point. 
He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are. 
“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t” 
When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane. 
“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go” 
After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while. 
However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again. 
June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA
“It might create more problems than it solves…” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.
Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him. 
“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame…” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon… It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess” 
He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality. 
“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!” 
The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone. 
“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.
He pulls the trigger. 
And there’s only blood. 
He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you. 
“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home” 
“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be. 
“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips. 
“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude” 
“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well. 
“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly. 
You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice. 
He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent. 
“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs. 
“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his. 
IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN 
The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that. 
The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.
Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in. 
The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night. 
Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.
Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."
Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.
"Target approaching."
As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.
"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise. 
The Porsche approached the garage. 
"GO," Leon said sharply. 
At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat. 
Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded. 
A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.
Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him. 
Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up. 
There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death… an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.
He feels paralyzed. 
It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring. 
It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands. 
“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness. 
Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before. 
“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I… don’t want to be alone” 
“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd. 
You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock. 
“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention. 
“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly. 
“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time” 
You saw him reach the breaking point. 
Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.
After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this. 
But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life. 
“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead” 
“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words. 
“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin. 
“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down. 
“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe… it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack. 
“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope. 
Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows. 
“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently. 
Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe. 
“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair. 
“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on. 
“Just a nightmare…” he whispers, trying to calm down again. 
“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know. 
“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again. 
“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room. 
“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you. 
“What do you mean?” 
“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a… broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life” 
The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed. 
“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine…” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."
No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode. 
“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone” 
After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one. 
Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.  
“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast” 
“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet. 
“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?” 
“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you… for sticking up with me last night” 
“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do” 
“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell” 
You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space. 
“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast. 
“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago. 
“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it” 
Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine. 
Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him. 
You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet. 
“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot” 
“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.  
“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers. 
“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.  
“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore” 
“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully. 
Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is… peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease. 
“If I ask you a favor…” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation. 
“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation. 
“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen. 
“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them. 
Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations. 
“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense. 
“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile. 
When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?
He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination. 
“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.
“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.  
Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life. 
“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before. 
“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags. 
“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now… I don’t think about that anymore”
He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again. 
“I used to be scared of the morgue… but coming here with you… is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone” 
“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness. 
But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags. 
The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.
Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this” 
V. ACCEPTANCE 
After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.  
You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise. 
It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.
“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel. 
“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity. 
“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college” 
“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours. 
“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers. 
“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that” 
“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers. 
“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling. 
“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way… I have something for you” 
Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do. 
“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday” 
“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box. 
He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you. 
“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you. 
“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it. 
“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly. 
“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it” 
“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job… I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but…” 
“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. 
“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that. 
“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him. 
“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma. 
You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way. 
“Start with something like… why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs. 
“I… um… I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things” 
“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?” 
Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this. 
“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive” 
While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls. 
“After that night… everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but…” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath. 
“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day… you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night…” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault” 
Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top. 
Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.
"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.
"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.
Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.
"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.
"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.
Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression. 
"I'm on vacation." 
"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.
"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.
"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.
"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.
"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.
Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.
"Cancel the beer."
"No, it's not canceled."
“Come on… what the fuck?!”
"I don't need any more alcohol."
"Cut it out. What's going on?"
"That's my line."
The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.
"You–!" Chris leaned forward.
"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.
Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.
"...What's the situation?" he asked.
Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues, 
"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization." 
The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice. 
"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess," 
Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.
"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"
"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.
"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."
With a hesitant tone, Leon continues
“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."
Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power. 
"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.
"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.
Tension fills the air between them once again.
"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."
"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.
They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.
"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies. 
"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues. 
"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."
Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.
"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.
"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.
Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student. 
"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."
As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.
"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."
Rebecca glances lightly at Leon. 
"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."
Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.
"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."
Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table. 
"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."
"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.
"What?" Leon asks, confused.
"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.
There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that. 
"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.
Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.
"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.
She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.
"She's a great woman," Leon comments.
"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile. 
And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago. 
"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.
"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response. 
"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..." 
Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.
"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."
Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence. 
"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.
"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well… I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”
"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.
“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."
Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.
"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."
He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain. 
Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."
Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head. 
“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up. 
“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes. 
“Listen… something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek. 
“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy. 
“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you. 
“Ok… I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 
Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him. 
Before you, Leon was ready to die. 
He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed. 
But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you. 
It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine. 
The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton. 
"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."
The merged form kicked out.
The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.
Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.
"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.
"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.
In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way. 
Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.
Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.
What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end…
VI. ABSOLUTION
When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed. 
After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back. 
“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room. 
“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you. 
“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles. 
“Well… I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living… since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job. 
“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity. 
“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed… thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me…” 
“Wait, wait, wait… slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home… I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you” 
Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one. 
“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday… and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.
“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears. 
“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.
“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead. 
After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents. 
“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home. 
“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him. 
“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.
You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you. 
“Mom, dad… this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations. 
“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red. 
“So… um… how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon. 
“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so…” 
“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips. 
Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love. 
“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room. 
“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody. 
“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “
“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck. 
“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin. 
“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you. 
The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too. 
“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck. 
“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear. 
He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you. 
“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest. 
You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful. 
Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you. 
“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears. 
Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already. 
However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that. 
When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone. 
Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again. 
“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck. 
“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly. 
“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck. 
“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 
“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him. 
After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.
And he’s fine with that. 
834 notes · View notes
stevebabey · 10 months
Text
totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
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virgincels · 10 days
Text
r/AmItheAsshole
u/bwckennedy77 ・ 15h
AITA for having sexual relations with a girl that looks like my daughter?
Asshole
(tags - daddy daughter incest, facial, oral sex, some coercion, bad writing bc i’m tired and can’t execute the idea properly, be nice and don’t look at any mistakes!! leon small dick ik but he’s big for my sake here.)
Hi Reddit! New to this thing, first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why. Now, to cut to the chase, my wife left me this year a little after our daughter (20) moved out. Our marriage (M47, F46) had been strained for a couple years prior so I understand why she ended things. I’m stretched thin with an intensive job that requires me to be away for days and weeks at a time. I thought she would get it considering it is related to the military/government, but I guess all those missed birthdays really got to her! I have no qualms with this and totally understand her reasoning haha.
I don’t get the time to go on dates because of work like I said before and I really don’t have the energy to go on them anyway. I have a bit of a drinking problem if I’m completely honest which is where my actual story starts I guess.
I was at a bar and I don’t usually attempt to pick up girls but sometimes they come onto me I don’t think I have the worst face in the world, some call it easy on the eyes. Long story short this girl comes up to me she’s pretty young, I don’t usually go for younger girls. I mean I don’t go for any girls at all because I was married up until recently obviously haha, but I’m not one to say no so I took her back to my place.
Chick got super freaked out and started getting her things when I bent her over in the bedroom. Thought it was just reality hitting her or some shit. She was calling me a creep and she left as my daughter let herself in, she’s back in town and only just arrived at that moment.
They looked at each other and it hit me. They looked the same. That chick saw the photo I have of my daughter on the cabinet and flipped. The chick leaves and my daughter gets super mad at me starts calling me names and she went up to her room and she won’t speak to me now. Didn’t think that it was that big of a deal you know? Don’t really know what I did wrong since it wasn’t intentional or anything but with the way she’s acting I just feel like a dick so AITA?
⇧ 52478 | ⇩ 💬 27821
Killer_RedQueen79 ・ 14h・ Supreme Court Just-Ass [124]
I hope to fucking god this is not you Leon.
bwckennedy77 OP・ 11h
I don’t know any Leon’s sorry
DuckieUnderWater ・ 13h ・ Partassipant [2]
Dude why the whole fucking life story. Title alone was enough for me to know that YTA and a fucking creep.
bwckennedy77 OP ・ 2h
I think you’re all taking this out of context! I didn’t want her because she looks like my daughter, I’m just easy!
NeonGenesis738 ・ 12h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]
first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why
I could name a few fucking reasons why you sick fuck. YTA. She should call the cops and go non contact.
bwckennedy77 OP ・ 5h
I am a super cop buddy! Very high rank!!!
NeonGenesis738 ・ 2h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]
Of course you fucking are
YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA.
Leon scoffs, reading glasses slipping down the slant of his nose as he squints at his screen. He is not the fucking asshole here. No one is. You’re just a bit of a drama queen. Just like your ma, but you haven’t quite reached the levels of hysteria that Leon has managed in his day to day life.
Man, there’s never a clean slate. Just more and more shit piled on top of shit and more shit—Enough to break the ozone layer or whatever it is that’s going on in this little world. The other problems that he can’t save it from.
It has been two meandering days since you’ve talked to him, you move like a ghoul in the night to avoid a one on one Family Meeting that Leon has been itching to suggest. Reddit, as Claire suggested - not for this occasion, but for when he generally needs a variety of opinions - is unhelpful. Reddit is a crowd that wields its pitchforks at anything that passes by.
Like, seriously, it’s not like Leon picked her out of the crowd, he didn’t sit there waiting for her to show up—Well, he did let down the shortstack that approached him first, and the blonde with the hollow face, and the dude who bought him a drink. They just didn’t tickle his fancy and that’s alright. Can’t help having a type, and to clarify that type is not his daughter.
Divorce is tough, alright? Leon’s always looking for a friendly face, hers probably came with all those memories of you attached and he subconsciously picked her out. Fuckin’ made him release endorphins or some shit. And she was cute. Because you’re cute. Not in a weird way, just subjectively, you’re a cute girl with a nice body you can owe to him. Christ, it all sounds so wrong when he puts it into perspective, but that was never his intention.
He fucked his wife whenever he could get it up, he fucked her for a long fucking time for a number of years. Leon wouldn’t fuck a woman he finds ugly, he found her pretty hot, actually, and it just so happens that you look like your ma. So, you’re a good-looking kid—Not in a weird way. Never in a weird way.
That’s how it works, isn’t it? Kids look like their parents and parents can admire that and it doesn’t mean they want to fuck them.
But that girl was—She was hot, god damn it. He had her tits in his hands, squeezing them so tight she squealed, pushing them up and down, slapping them left and right, fat spilling past the gaps in his fingers. And so what if Leon thought that they looked like yours.
Maybe he thought about that time at the beach, when your string bikini did exactly what good string bikinis do - come undone.
(He had lowered his sunglasses and looked right at you.)
Maybe about that time you needed a towel and Leon took a peek at your body through the steamed glass when he tossed one over the shower door.
(“My eyes are closed, sweetheart!” He had promised while staring at you very open-eyed.)
Or when he sent you off to bed with a smack on the ass ‘cause he just wasn’t thinking too hard, Leon hardly ever thinks at all. He played it off as sportsmanship or whatever. Game got him amped up.
(You look like your mom from behind, he couldn’t help himself, it was an impulse—It was only natural.)
Leon has the bright idea to pass the time by watching porn, because honestly he’s been pent up since it happened. First time his dick kicked in weeks and she walked out on him all ‘cause she looked a little like his daughter. Weak. Freud never mentioned anything about this—Not that Leon knows much about that guy, nothing at all actually, but from what he’s heard, no dads crushing on daughters have ever been mentioned. Or maybe he's got reading to do.
Porn is usually a quick and easy fix. It is for everybody. Not Leon though, he’s gotta search hard for shit he likes, it’s not on the front page and it takes him forever to find one that’s suitable. Some of ‘em have too much dick, some of the positions just look painful, some of these clits aren’t being touched, and some of these girls are just plain ugly.
Then he finds one, she’s real cute, that’s all. Nothing is familiar about her eyes and nose and lips and body and hair. Not the way she smiles over her shoulder at him. Nothing at all.
He falls asleep with the tab open and a hand down his pants.
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To avoid detection, you creep around the house when it’s lights out. Dad wakes up easily, military training and whatnot. So you’ve gotten used to this, sneaking leftovers from the fridge past midnight, watching the TV on silent, squinting to read the subtitles.
He didn’t mean it. You think. You hope. Leon is so… So harmless. Your dad is sweet and a little stupid, he’s kind and clueless and all of the things most dads are. He buys you an abundance of apples when you tell him you like apples, he throws out the oranges when you tell him you don’t like them ‘cause they make your hands smell funny. He stands on the porch watching the clouds, he sleeps alone in his king sized bed and hugs his pillow tight. He keeps his wedding ring on his bedside cabinet next to a picture of you
But that was weird. Seriously, you thought he put a mirror in the hall for a minute. Or that you were in some strange dreamscape. Or in a coma. Or all of the above.
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he just brushed you off like it meant nothing. Like that girl wasn’t your long lost twin, a sister he and your mom put up for adoption twenty years ago. So, yeah, you got a little pissy at him. ‘Cause it’s nothing to act nonchalant about.
Okay, and what if this is a little bit of a projection.
You got mad at him, real mad, ‘cause maybe you were a little jealous and maybe you like knowing that your dad is single and not fucking—Maybe you think about that time you went to the sauna together, all that sweat, beading along the firm lines of his abdomen, dripping down and down and down and melting into the fabric of his white towel. Maybe you wanted to see what was under there. Maybe you mix up the laundry on purpose, make it so he can’t find a nice shirt to wear and he gives up and does without one all together.
Maybe you do all those things. Maybe you don’t want to be a bad person, and the guilt outweighs your desires.
Or maybe you are just a very regular girl behaving in very regular ways to the sight of your dad fucking your lookalike. Maybe it’s that. God, please be that.
You wander into his room with a very dire problem. There’s a spider in the shower, and maybe you're ready for that Family Meeting now.
He’s sleeping, the blue light of his laptop casts a glow on his face, head tipped back, lips parted as he snores loudly. You almost don’t catch it. Then, when you go to shake him awake gently, you take a good look at his screen and find the weight of the world is not enough to support the wave of anger that rips through you, a tsunami tearing a nation in half.
No fucking way. No fucking way. No fucking way!
He’s watching porn, whatever, he can do that. Your dad is a grown man, and while you don’t exactly want to know about his tastes, you sorta had him figured out. The kind of man who watches corny studio porn with unwet pussy and dicks so big they shouldn’t be allowed within 10 feet of a vagina.
The girl on the screen—She looks like you. Albeit a little plastic in the way most professional pornstars are. Too-firm tits, filler migrating into the space above her lips, it hurts for her to smile and—Well, none of this fucking matters because she looks like you and your dad is watching her take two dicks in one hole.
And wow. She’s taking them well. Really… Really well. This isn’t so bad, you salute his taste a little more—Oh, wow, that guy is kind of… You recognise him, something about his face is familiar.
You press rewind.
It starts cheesy and devolves into something cheesier. It starts dirty and it ends with a dick in her pussy and one in her mouth, they might end up meeting in the middle, kiss tips in her guts.
It’s the loud one—The one that says all the dirty shit and spits in her mouth and slaps her tits and knocks her around—He looks like dad.
Mainly from the side, the straight edge of his nose, the way his eyes crease when he smiles down at her all mean.
(You skip anytime he faces the camera head on.)
“You’re really enjoying that, huh?”
“Jesus Christ—“ You jolt and knock your head against the headboard. “Dad!”
“Baby!”
“You scared me,” you say, elbowing him in the gut as he sits up, “I wasn’t—Why’re you watching this?”
“What? I can’t watch porn in my room now?” Leon pauses the video, he’s not upset, amused but not upset.
“No—I mean you can, do whatever you want, but why is it… She looks like…” You wave your hand at the screen like it’s a hologram and it’ll go if you wave it away. It’ll flicker if you stare at it long and hard enough.
“Like what, sweetheart?” He drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulls you into his chest as you stammer like a fucking idiot. “Go on, you’re a big girl.”
“Let go of me,” you tell him weakly, a shoddy attempt at sounding horrified. Like you should when you’re caught watching porn—Your dad’s porn nonetheless.
“No, that’s not what it is, baby, answer my question.” He holds you in place, hand running up and down your side, rubbing circles into the fat of your hip. “Who does she look like?”
“Like… Like no one.”
“No, I don’t think that’s right, c’mon, I’ll give you one more chance, baby.” Leon’s fingers are cool on your skin, slipping under the hem of your shirt and settling on your waist. “Who does she look like?”
You turn your head, but he catches your chin and forces you to stare at the screen, right into her face—Your face. “Like me…”
“See, baby?” He kisses your forehead like he has a million times before. “Knew you could do it, my good girl,” he says like he does after you ace your tests, when you learnt how to ride a bike, and now he’ll say it while you learn to work his dick. “And who does he look like?”
“…Like you, dad.”
“Well done, baby,” he coos, kissing your jaw, “you’re so smart, aren’t you, baby?”
“Stop it—“ Your body catches alight when his hands slide upwards, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing so tight they might pop. “Stop it, dad—I don’t…”
What if, and this is a big what if, what if you get pregnant and the punnett square is one-by-one—It’s a punnet rectangle at that point.
What if your mom finds out?
What if you like it?
That’s the worst part of it all - you will like it.
You’ve wanted this—You can’t even keep up the lie anymore. You’ve wanted him for so long you couldn’t hold back a smile at court, when they signed those papers and when mom moved out you kept smiling. Fuck. What is wrong with you?
“You liked that didn’t you?” Dad says in your ear, his breath is hot and he smells like soap and sweat. His stubble tickles your skin when he presses a wet kiss to your neck. “Bet it got your little pussy all wet.”
“No it didn’t.” You try to level yourself, taking a shuddering breath when his hand dips past your navel to toy with the bow that lines the middle of your waistband.
“Okay, prove it.”
“How am I meant to prove that, dad?” You click your tongue, lay the annoyance act on thick, but make no attempt to leave.
“You gotta show me, baby.” He flicks your forehead with his free hand, the other cups your mound. “Can feel you already.”
“Then I guess I don’t need to show you,” you breathe out, placing your trembling hand on the arm that’s wrapped around you while his fingers run up and down your clothed slit.
“Nah, think I need to know for sure.” Leon’s teeth nip at your ear lobe, tugging lightly as he pulls your panties taut to your cunt, a makeshift g-string, caught between your pussy lips. “So fat, baby, whatcha been feeding her?” Your dick. Your dick. God, please, feed it your dick. He pinches your cunt, pushing your lips together and your clit throbs so hard you think it might burst.
“Dad,” you gasp, back going ramrod straight as the fabric rubs up against your swollen clit. “Don’t say that—So weird, you’re so weird, actual fucking weirdo.”
“Look at you.” His shirt slips from your shoulder as you rut your hips up, his grip on the waistband tightens, bunches up even further, pushing against your clit so hard it might split in half. “Dirty little girl, why you doin’ that?” You feel dad’s smile on your neck.
“‘Cause…” You grab at his arm, pushing your face into his bicep to muffle an embarrassing whine and it’s so fucking big. Muscle cushioned by a layer of fat, when you dig your fingers into it, his skin dimples.
“‘Cause..?” Leon taps your clit, lets go of your panties to let your pussy breathe. “I’m waiting, baby.”
“Feels good, dad,” you whimper, hanging your head in shame, pressing your nose into the crease of his elbow as he slides your panties to the side.
“I know, baby, you can’t help yourself, can you?” Dad drags a finger along your slippery slit, pussy clicking wetly when he dips a finger inside your tight hole. “Think daddy spoiled you too much.”
“Not… Not true…” You stifle another noise into his bicep, suckling on his skin to taste it.
After this is all said and done, you might have to leave and never look back. You might have to emancipate yourself so you can marry him, take back your last name and pretend it was never yours to begin with.
Slowly, Leon rubs figure eights into your twitching clit, you grind into him, ears burning at the squelch of your drippy cunt—He isn’t even in your hole, he’s just playing with your clit and you’re making a mess, pussy all sloppy and noisy.
When you cum, it’s a gradual burn that washes over you like waves lapping at your ankles. Your toes curl and there’s a strangled noise in your throat as your pussy drips slick into the cupped palm of his hand.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Leon coos, “that’s what you needed, hm?”
You rock your hips into his hand as your high melts away, leaving half-guilt and half-regret and a wet pussy that’s perfect for fucking.
Dad lays you down, he still keeps mom’s perfume, he still sprays it on the bed sheets. It's the first thing you smell when your head hits the pillow with a soft thump. This is the bed you were made in, it’s the bed you slept in on sick days and nights when thunder was particularly loud. It’s the bed you slept in when dad was away and you and mom only had each for warmth.
What are you doing?
Well, you’re lifting your hips in the air so dad can take your panties off. Then you’re spreading your legs as far as they go so he gets a clear view of your pussy, glistening under the dimmed bulb, slick coating your puffy lips and drying on your inner thighs.
His sweats are lowered, cock springing up and smacking his abdomen, the tip drips and drizzles him in honey. Oh, god—It’s like big? You didn’t expect that, actually. You’d like to say you haven’t thought of it all, but you have and you do often.
“Think you can take it, baby?” Leon asks, tapping the fat head on your bud. Heart to heart, tip to clit. “Or does daddy need to eat your pussy?”
“I can take it, dad…” You nod, giving an earnest nod of your head and sizing up his cock, doing some mental mathematics as you try to calculate how many inches deep your pussy is and how big that fucking dick is. Although… You want his mouth on you—But that cock is more important right now.
“Atta girl.” He never pushes it in. You ache and shiver with each drag of his cock along your pussy, it bumps your clit and your whole body jolts.
For a moment, your mind and body disconnect, you’re watching a terribly taboo porn video and taking gross amounts of pleasure in it—Living out your fantasy through the bodies of others because it’s the closest you’ll ever get. But this is very much real and it is very much wrong.
When dad slides in, the fat head of his dick breaching your walls, the second he bottoms out, your pussy forces him back out as you cum for a second time, fucking gushing from the weight of his dick bumping into your cervix.
“Oh, baby, is it too much for you?” Sweetly, Leon presses a kiss between your tits as your chest heaves. “Is your pussy too little, daddy can try again another day, sweetheart.” He’s winding you up.
“Noo—Dad, please, ‘m want it so bad, please,” you beg incoherently, cunt dripping with your release.
“Okay, baby,” he abides, pressing the tip to your hole and pushing into you inch by inch. Being torn in half has never felt so good. “Only ‘cause I love you, my spoiled girl, huh?”
“Oh, fuck,” you sob, fat tears catching on your lower lashes as he stretches you out, “dad—daddy!”
“I know, baby, daddy’s right here,” Leon hums, he lowers his face to press into your tits, taking a peaked nipple into his mouth and popping off to suck on the other. Then he fucking motorboats you. Because of course he does.
You cry out, pushing at his head. “That’s so embarrassing, dad!” You manage to tell him through each of his mean thrusts, poking at your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your guts.
“‘S not, baby, dad just thinks your tits are real cute.” He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulls until you squeal, smacking a fist against his chest.
Each drag of his dick inside of you is like—Gosh, you don’t know, it’s like heaven on earth or whatever the best feeling in this godforsaken place is. The smell of dew in the morning, a can of soda with a burger, the scent of cinnamon apple candles during Christmas time. It’s his dick rabbiting into your pussy with enough force to fuel a fucking rocket ship.
The schlick of your pussy goes unheard as his balls slap against your ass, and you dig your nails into his to push him deeper, it’s so fucking soft—Why is his ass so soft? 
“So little, baby.” Dad pouts down at you, one big hand on your tit and the other cups your cheek. “Daddy can’t even fit inside.”
You squeeze down on him, and your greedy cunt sucks his dick in to the best of your abilities, but there’s still an inch or two that you can’t possibly fit. The base of his cock is coated in a milky white ring, it drips down his balls and—God, you’re about to cum again. His thumb finds your clit, and thank god it does. You cum so hard you see stars and all of Saturn’s moons.
“Aw, baby, you needed that.” Dad continues to hump into your cunt, his furrowed brow and the puff of his breath on your face is almost too much for you to handle. “My baby, always mouthin’ off at me, you just needed some dick, didn’t you? Jus’ needed dad to play with this spoiled little cunt, hm?”
“Mhm…” You nod because what else are you meant to do? Say no? The man is right.
He pulls out and you whine, pussy gripping him so tight Leon groans as hm the head pops out with a lewd, wet sound. “C’mere, baby, come on.” He urges you to sit up, so you do, using your elbows to push up as you’re met face to face with his fat cock.
Leon smears the tip on your lips, and you swear to god you’d finish off a cute lip combo with his pre. You take the head into your mouth and suck on it, it’s velvety under your tongue, you wrap a hand around his shaft to make up for what you can’t suck. It’s uncut on the fat, skin folding and creasing each time you pump him, peeking out from underneath the hood so you can tongue his slit. He tastes like your pussy and something muskier.
He groans all deep and nice and smooth, low in his throat, makes your pussy tingle. You jerk his wet cock off, mouthing along the base of his cock until you suck on his sac, slurping and smacking like you oughta do for a dick like this. His balls plap, plap, plap against your hand and they tighten before he cums, thick sticky seed spilling from the tip like the slow trickle of honey. It paints your face white, dribbling down your cheeks and chin to stain your tits.
“Put those cute glasses on next time, baby.” Leon kisses your mouth, licking into it and tasting his salty cum. “The ones you wear to class.”
Dazed, guilty and giddy all at once, you look up at him with a frown. “Why?”
“‘Cause I wanna cum on them, stupid.” He flicks your forehead again, sends you out of his room with a hard smack on the ass.
“Wait, dad!” You hold onto him before Leon makes you leave.
“Hm?” He strokes your head as you pout up at him, softening so easily. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
“There’s a spider in the shower, can you get rid of it?”
“No,” he scoffs, “get outta here, ‘s all you use me for.”
“Dad!” You whine, latching onto him, “daddy, please, it’s so big! Please, we can… We can do it together, um, shower together not—not kill the spider together.”
Leon grumbles the entire time, he squashes it with a tissue and flushes it down the toilet, but any qualms are washed away by the hot water and your plush tits pressing to his chest as you stand facing him.
You could get used to this. You shouldn’t, but you will.
r/AmItheAsshole
u/bwckennedy77 ・ 1m
AITA for fucking my daughter?
566 notes · View notes
blushweddinggowns · 9 months
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Eddie, two weeks after getting with Steve, coupled with erratic hand gestures: Okay, so like imagine that your highschool prom king saves your life right? Like full on drags you from hell whilst on the brink of death. And then he helps you beat a murder charge with his connection to a dirty cop. And then he like, sticks around. Like playing full on nursemaid free of charge. And now you got the basketball starter, certified heart throb at your beck and call. And it turns out he’s sweet, and funny, and even prettier up close. Like, how do you not fall in love with that? And then imagine that you do, and some fucking how he loves you back. And your first kiss makes you feel like your dying and getting reborn all over again. Just insane shit. And you expect me not to talk about it? Like this will not be the only thing I am capable of discussing for the next ten years?
Dustin, head in his hands, wishing for death: All I asked was if you could pass the salt.
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hysterotic · 2 months
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𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑵𝑬𝑿𝑻 𝑫𝑶𝑶𝑹 ✩ 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑱𝑰 𝑲𝑬𝑰𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑬
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𝑺𝑯𝑬’𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑵𝑬𝑿𝑻 𝑫𝑶𝑶𝑹,
𝑵𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑵𝑨𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝒀, 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻’𝑺 𝑷𝑼𝑹𝑬
baji’s placed under house-arrest after setting a cop car on fire and prior to that his mom cut off the internet as punishment, he thought it was gonna be a torturous 3 months until he finds a new source of entertainment through stalking the new girl next door, who turns out to be a former pornstar?
⤷ disturbia (2007) the girl next door (2004)
⚠︎ : stalker themes but not really, usage of weed, college!au, non-consensual filming (at first), 80% plot 20% porn, unprotected sex, baji is mean and naaaasty, breeding kink, gag kink, face slapping (once), pussy slapping, he records you two fuckinnnn
proofread by my sexy bf & my bsf who were BOTH high when they read this so if this is shitty blame them lmao
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one week of house arrest almost drove him crazy. actually, almost is an understatement; he had completely lost his mind.
the judge did cut him a break by making it a 3 month house arrest instead of 2 years in jail due to his constant arson, all thanks to his mom pulling a few strings, insisting that “it’s technically not aggravated arson” and “wouldn’t do any harm, he’s just a bit impulsive”.
but at this point, he would rather do time than be facing her wrath.
he tried to cheat the ankle monitor’s alarms a couple times, thinking he could just walk out the house like he did once before when he was under house arrest, forgetting that the only reason why they let him go in the first place is because they didn’t strap an ankle monitor on him, since he was just a teen at the time.
the number of times baji was handcuffed this week had cops expecting a call about him almost everyday; sometimes, they didn’t even bother to pick up at all.
hell, this is christmas to criminals. they have their chance to do whatever their hearts desire now without worrying about authorities, all thanks to baji keisuke.
but lately? he’s been leeching off of kazutora, calling him two to three times a day.
“kazutora, you have no fuckin’ idea how much this thing itches.”
kazutora could hear baji shuffling around on his bed, even though he couldn’t see him, he knew he’s elbow deep in some bag of chips.
baji continues to speak with a mouthful, “plus my mom fuckin’ transformed, she’s a dictator now. she took my goddamn xbox– can’t even watch no TV. i’m losing it, i’m losin’ my mind just give me any information anythin’ at all what’s goin’ on out there?”
he could hear kazutora walking outside from the cars driving by and the wind blowing against the speaker, making his voice barely audible. “just say you want us to come over, you don’t gotta complain’ in my ear all the time.”
baji shoves another handful of chips in his mouth, “come over?” he looks around his hellhole of a room. “seriously?” he starts scratching the ankle monitor aggressively and running his fingers under the band.
he hears more shuffling from the speaker, as if someone had grabbed the phone from kazutora, “it’s been almost two weeks, and you didn’t miss any of our faces? i’m hurt, keisuke.” ryousei says, his voice filled with theatrical passion and intensity, he could sense him posing with his hand on his chest dramatically.
baji rolls his eyes, “you guys comin’ or what?”
he could hear another voice coming through the phone, he couldn’t make out what they said since they were heavily inaudible.
“who else is with you-“ baji questions before kazutora quickly cuts him off, “we’re almost there gotta go byeeee”
and with that, kazutora hangs up.
he clicks his tongue, throwing the phone across the room and falling back onto the bed.
no way is he gonna handle being at home for the entirety of summer break, especially since his mom decided to take away every little thing remotely entertaining in the name of “learning his lesson” and to “quit being involved with hoodlums.” as if that’s not making him want to get twice as violent–
a slight jingle interrupts his train of thought.
he furrows his brows at the sound, sticking his head up to look around his room for the source. his eyes land on a long, fluffy black tail trotting around the area where he threw the phone. he sits up seeing the rest of it’s body, catching it playfully pawing at the phone.
baji’s brows twitch, confused about how the cat managed to climb up to his room. he stands up from the bed, slowly walking towards it, “how’d y’get in here.. huh?” he questions it softly.
the cat whips it’s head towards the voice, responding to his presence, it emits soft chirps and trills, immediately striding towards his legs, going in between them to rub itself on the ankle monitor. baji steps back, feeling something sharp against his ankle.
he hums curiously at the unusual feeling, noticing something shining on the cat’s neck, he couldn’t tell what it was from how fluffy the cat is.
he crouches down for a closer look, seeing that it’s wearing a small spiked black collar with a little skull charm in the front, he tilts the charm up and turns it around seeing “nightmare” engraved in the back.
“nightmare?” a subtle grin appears on his lips, he uses his finger to tilt its chin up so he can get a better look at the cat’s face. nightmare sniffs his finger and leans it’s cheek against his hand affectionately.
he gently scratches underneath it’s chin, watching it purr softly with contentment at his affections, until the voice of a girl who sounded like she was calling out for the cat disrupts the moment.
“nai-nai? where are youuu?” you call out, making kissing sounds as an attempt to lure the cat in. your voice gets louder and louder, getting closer to his house, almost as if you were irritatingly yelling by his window.
his lips curls down into a frown as he huffs in annoyance. the cat quickly hops on baji’s shoulder as he stands back up. he peers over the window, looking at you yelling around his house’s fence while he continues scratching nightmare’s cheek. he pauses, his irked expression calms as his eyes meet your distressed face.
the face he was met with threw him for a loop, how come he has never seen you before, “has she just moved in?”
he slowly walks closer to the window to get a better look of you.
beep beep beep
he looks in the direction the noise came from, seeing a big van moving backwards towards the house next door.
he glances at another car from behind after hearing the car doors opening and closing, though he can barely see because of the van blocking his view.
he glances back at you again, seeing you run towards the car, watching your short short skirt that barely covers your ass flow every step you take til you disappear out of view.
. ˳⁺⁎˚ ༺ ♰ ༻ ˚⁎⁺˳ .
“has anybody seen nightmare?” you ask your parents who were walking away from the van, carrying moving boxes.
your mom sighs, her voice laced with irritation, “didn’t i tell you to not let her out of the carrier while we’re moving?”
“but she needed to pee–“
“that’s your problem now. go help your siblings with the boxes; we don’t have all day.”
“i’m not gonna help until i find her!” you whine, following behind your mom into house.
. ˳⁺⁎˚ ༺ ♰ ༻ ˚⁎⁺˳ .
baji sighs disappointingly at the thought of returning the cat, slightly turning his head towards nightmare while still keeping his eye on the front door from where you disappeared. “guess y’gotta go home.. c’mon.” he gently picks her up with one hand and sets her on the window, watching her bolt towards the house next door.
. ˳⁺⁎˚ ༺ ♰ ༻ ˚⁎⁺˳ .
the moment you heard nightmare’s collar jingle, you ran outside, sighing with relief at the sight of her, baji could see your worries melt away from your body as you crouch to pick her up and hug her. he leans his arms atop the window frames, observing the scene quietly.
“where were you?” you coo, kissing her head, noticing that she has an unfamiliar scent clinging to her. “were you snooping in people’s houses?” you turn her body to face you so you could scold her, seeing that she was distracted, staring up at something. you assumed it was a bird until you followed her gaze, eyes locking with brown ones.
his big, muscled arms were visible for you to drool over, seeing his body leaned atop the window frame, staring down at you. you feel the intensity of his gaze as it raked itself up your form, eyes darting between you and the cat. the way he –basically— checked you out made your head spin, making you weak in the knees.
he looked tall, and strong. you could see his big shoulders bulging out of his wife beater, with a couple of black rings on his hand too. and that long, jet black hair.. the cross layered necklace he was wearing.. is he seriously your new neighbor?
“good taste, nai.” you whisper in her ear as she purrs in your arms, you hesitantly bring your hand up to wave at him with a gentle smile. he nods his head at you, seemingly distracted by his thoughts.
. ˳⁺⁎˚ ༺ ♰ ༻ ˚⁎⁺˳ .
It’s an insignificant interaction; he was just greeting his new neighbor, and yet something about you had his body growing hot in a way he’s never felt before, he didn’t wanna take his eyes off of you; he nearly gets lost in a trance until he hears the ringing sound of his doorbell, crushing the tension.
he clicks his tongue, pushing himself off the window frame, looking back to where the front door is, contemplating if he should answer it or not, he slowly turns his head back to look at you again, staring at your figure that is now walking away, slowly growing smaller the farther you go, walking back inside the house.
he keeps his eyes glued to your front door, hoping that you’d come out, maybe flash him that smile again. at this point, he might even kidnap the cat just to get you to come out once more–
ding dong ding dong
the doorbell rings again, annoyingly on repeat this time.
“fucking hell, i’m comin’ i’m comin..” he quickly runs downstairs towards the front door, yanking it open irritably. his eyes are met by none other than dumb, dumber and dumbest.
“damn, you really are going through it.” ryusei greets, chuckling at baji’s disheveled look. his amusement gets cut off by chifuyu elbowing him in his stomach, wincing in pain.
kazutora walks in between the two and pushes the zip to baji’s chest, brushing past him to walk up the stairs.
baji quickly shoves it in his pocket in a panic, “don’t be openly showin’ that around! i got my mom up my ass enough.” he yells at kazutora.
“whatever! you down to roll one right now or what?” kazutora replies, completely ignoring him as he walks into baji’s room.
baji feels a pat on his shoulder, turning to face ryusei. “surprised you actually stayed home this time.” ryusei remarks, referring to the last house arrest he was in. ryusei starts walking up the stairs following behind kazutora.
he rolls his eyes and turns his head back at chifuyu, “what’re you doin’ here?”
“after kazutora told me about what happened, i felt bad leaving you be all alone, the gang misses you by the way.” chifuyu says with a smile.
a shy grin tugs at the corners of baji’s mouth, “c’mon. i’ll be fine; this ain’t a charity.” he says, turning his back towards the door, leaving it open, and walking up the stairs towards his room, with chifuyu following.
he locks the bedroom door behind him after finding kazutora on his bed, openly prepping to roll a joint, with a tray set, and ryusei sitting beside him with a remote, flicking through apple music tracks. kazutora sticks his hand out for baji to throw the zip.
“damn, she even locked apple music from you? how are you even alive right now.” ryusei mutters to himself.
baji reaches for his pocket and throws it at kazutora, “don’t be stinkin’ up my room with that; smoke out the window,” he says in a low, gravelly tone.
kazutora hums in response, continuing to pack a joint, “not worried about the cops who’re watchin’ over you seeing that from the window?” chifuyu questions.
“my mom s’worse.” he sits down on his gaming chair, leaning back, slowly rolling it towards the window where he last saw you.
he didn’t mean to stare at the house next door again; he did it subconsciously. it’s like there was something about you that pulled him in. he thought to himself; it’s none of my business, but he can’t help the need to be curious about what you were doing right now.
his eyes flick towards a figure on the room right across his. coincidentally, your room windows are aligned towards one another, he could see almost everything without trying, almost like it was there for him to look. he sees you digging through your suitcase, throwing your clothes around, searching for something.
you finally pull out a swimsuit and set it aside, you start to tug on the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly to reveal your bare back. you weren’t wearing a bra this entire time.
you seem unaware, and yet with the way your body moves, the way you smoothly took off your clothes, the way everything was perfectly angled, teasing him, it was like you knew he was watching, knew that he won’t be able to do shit with the annoying cuff on his ankle.
you walk out of your room with a swimsuit on and towel draped on your arm, disappearing from his sight. he rests his arm on the window sill, pinching his lip between two fingers, patiently waiting for your appearance again, his eyes darting between the metal band posters you already set around your room, the more he looks around, the more he learns about you.. the more intrigued he is.
a couple minutes later, his eyes flick at the back door, seeing you walk outside in your hot pink swimsuit, dipping your foot in the brand new pool, slightly shivering at how cold it is, you slowly start walking down into the water, trying to adjust to the temperature.
you begin swimming under, he sees glimpses of what looks like a tramp stamp and two bows exactly under your ass. he leans closer, trying to get a better look until he hears a loud, aggressive cough right by his ear.
he looks in his peripheral vision, seeing kazutora and ryusei smoking right behind him, with chifuyu crouched on the floor coughing, holding the back of baji’s chair for balance.
“did you even inhale it?” ryusei snickers at the sight of chifuyu struggling.
chifuyu stands up and spits out the window, clearing his throat. “that shit tastes disgusting, i’m not inhaling that!”
“quit pressurin’ him to smoke,” baji turns the chair around to face the two. “grab the wuss some beer- uh, redbull to get rid of the taste, i got a pack right there” he points with his finger, snatching the joint from kazutora in the process.
kazutora turns his head to the direction baji pointed at and walks towards it with ryusei following behind. baji spins the chair back to look at you once more and takes a puff, fully leaning against the window sill, seeing you still swimming. he seems to forget chifuyu’s still there until he hears him clear his throat, baji snaps his head to look at him.
“you know her?” chifuyu questions, raising his arm up to rest it against the wall, leaning his head on it.
baji shakes his head, putting the roach out. “she just moved in next door” he says after a few minutes of silence.
chifuyu forms an “o” with his mouth, he continues staring at you peacefully swimming then looking back at baji again. a mischievous smirk forms on his lips, “think she’s cute?”
“what the fuck, matsuno!”
“your staring at her too much, you’ve never done that with anybody!”
“so? doesn’t mean shit,” baji scoffs.
“who’re you two arguing about” kazutora pops up from behind, holding three bottles of beer and a can of redbull.
“nobody,” baji grumbles.
“nah, nah, nah—she’s not a nobody if she got baji drooling like this. he’s checking out his new neighbor.” chifuyu points at you with his chin.
baji's jaw clenched, crossing his arms irritatedly. kazutora pushes both of them aside to get a better look at you, he mutters, “hold on,” and turns around, walking towards baji’s drawers, looking through them and finally pulling out old, dusty binoculars.
“this is getting fucking creepy,” baji mumbles lowly.
“what is?” ryusei raises a brow, looking from chifuyu’s shoulders, catching you in his eyesight.
kazutora blows the dust away from the lenses, placing the binoculars on his eyes and pointing them at you, he walks closer to the window. his sight reaches your tramp stamp, “huh.. that tattoo looks familiar.”
“let me see, give me that,” ryusei snatches the binoculars from kazutora, he points the lenses towards your tramp stamp, taking a sip of his drink, seemingly deep in thought.
“you don’t think that’s…”
“no fuckin’ way…”
baji’s brows jump. “what? spit it out,” waiting for them to elaborate.
it finally hits them, literally.
ryusei almost chokes on his drink from kazutora’s continuous smacking on his back. “i know that tattoo—that’s that one pornstar! damn, what was her name?” he starts snapping his fingers, trying to jog his memory.
baji’s eyes almost burst out of his skull “HUH?!” baji and chifuyu said in unison. “how many pornos you gotta consume to identify a pornstar based on some tattoo? you fuckin’ fiends,” baji grimaces with disgust.
“i knew it,” ryusei said under his breath, walking back, looking around baji’s room trying to search for something. “you got a camera keisuke?”
“fuck you need that for?” baji spat.
ryusei pulls an old camcorder out from the top of his closet, “let’s get her to smile for the camera. that’ll show you, ponstars are naturals like that.” he walks up towards the window and hits record, slowly zooming in to get a close-up of you. “there’s the star,” he sultrily whispers
his filming was quickly interrupted by baji’s hand covering the lenses. “quit bein’ a creep! turn that off.” he shoves the camera away. “she just moved in your gonna freak her out,” chifuyu says, trying to take the camcorder out of ryusei’s grip until he puts his arm up out of chifuyu’s reach.
kazutora steps in between, backing up ryusei who continued to film you, “hell no this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! you got the chance to live next door to a goddamn pornstar” he said poking baji’s chest with a pointer finger.
baji swats his hand away, clicking his tongue as he sits back down on his gaming chair and pushes it away from the window with his leg, making sure he’s not in your sight when you catch them being stalkers.
“i don’t even know why he got that chance.” ryusei mumbles, zooming in on your figure, licking his lips, feeling baji’s glare burning a hole into the back of his head.
“huh, come to think of it.. i’ve never seen baji even look in the direction of a girl,” chifuyu says to himself, rubbing his chin deep in thought.
“and how do you know that? you stalkin’ me and keepin’ track of who i look at?” baji says bluntly
“i’m not the one who was ogling the girl!” chifuyu bites back.
“i’m seriously gonna kill you.” he jumps at chifuyu, accidentally bumping into ryusei, pushing him to fall forward into the window sill, causing him to flip over and fall out into the bushes.
you jerk your head at the sudden sound, seeing three men peering down into the bushes and then to you, meeting eyes with that raven-haired hunk again. your eyes wander to his friends and see binoculars in one of their hands. were they creeping on you swimming?
they immediately duck, their backs against the wall under the window.
“you two are jackasses, genuine jackasses.” baji says through gritted teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose, kazutora cackles and claps as if he’s seen the funniest thing ever.
“us two?! your the one who pushed ryusei out of the window!” chifuyu whisper screams before kazutora quickly smacks him on the head.
chifuyu looks back at kazutora in shock, seeing him holding a finger against his lip shushing him, he slowly stands up to peer out the window to see if you’re still staring at them.
he sees you swimming towards the stairs, watching you walk out while squeezing the water out of your hair, you feel somebody stare at you and you turn your head towards the window again.
he quickly sits back down, “yeah, she just saw me” he says, laughing in between.
chifuyu scoffs, now standing up to peek his head out to check for himself. his eyes dart around the swimming pool area, looking for you. he straightens himself up and peers down to check on ryusei, finding him gone too.
he looks back at both of them, lips pressed into a thin line. “i can’t find neither her nor ryusei.” he says, shaking his head, walking away from the window to pace around the room in a panic, already assuming the worst. the weed paranoia is getting to him already and he barely smoked.
“fuck you mean ryusei’s gone?” baji questions, he stands up to check, finding nobody there. shit.
“maybe she just went inside, no big deal!” chifuyu says nervously.
baji sighs, “yeah, ‘cause she caught you three stalkin’ her like a bunch of creeps.. now she’s gonna think her neighbors are perverts,” he mumbles, leaning against the wall.
before chifuyu and kazutora had the chance to react at baji’s hypocrisy, the doorbell rings.
“is that him?” kazutora runs to the front door window to check until chifuyu yanks his arm back away from the door before anyone sees him, “what if it’s her?“
“so? not like we can pretend we’re not home” baji points at his ankle monitor with his eyes and starts walking towards the door.
baji didn’t suspect a single thing, he wasn’t even nervous at the idea of you being the one ringing the doorbell, it’s just some girl, he thinks. so why is he frozen in place at the sight of you, drenched, wearing a skin-tight black button-up top with shorts underneath, practically swallowing your ass and thighs, a weak attempt to “cover up”, once again, being a fucking tease.
“i’m all wet.. can i come in?” your tone oozing with seductive intent.
chifuyu and kazutora pop out from behind baji, catching the scene. chifuyu looks at your form and then at baji repeatedly with a confused look. the sight looked like a skit from a porno. you truly are a natural.
baji’s hard-on was unfortunately stepped on when he sees ryusei pop out from the side with a camera, laughing hysterically at the scene that unfolded, clearly, this was all planned to be a prank. and yet, baji seems unfazed by it. he’s barely even listening at the three, mind drifting elsewhere, lingering over the idea of you genuinely being a pornstar, he can’t get the moment out of his head.
he kept his eyes on you, watching you giggle at the two arguing and yelling at ryusei for the prank he pulled. all baji was thinking about was how sweet and innocent your smile looked compared to your former lifestyle, how your strawberry pink lipgloss was glistening perfectly with your glittery skin that came from your sunscreen, how your shirt was unbuttoned at the top perfectly exposing your breasts– the hot pink bikini you were wearing, yeah.. that’s totally what he meant.
you hugged your form from the cold breeze, unknowingly making your tits look appealing. god, if he was a casting director for porn, he would hire you in an instant with him in it. a true succubus in the flesh.
ryusei blocks baji’s view of you with his camcorder, cackling in a way that grated on baji’s nerves, “you should’ve seen your face, keisuke,” he ends the video and fiddles with the camera to watch it again. “you don’t mind if she smokes with us right guys? she got locked out” he grins infuriatingly wide, finding amusement in torturing the raven haired man.
“yeah for sure, she can smoke with us, right baji?” kazutora speaks without a thought.
baji’s stare lingers on your form once more, especially the little cute ribbons that are peeking out of your shorts, holding your bikini bottoms against your hips before quickly breaking it away to speak.
“whatever.” he says nonchalantly. he moves out of the way, walking up to his room without another word.
you slightly pout at the interaction, you hoped you’d get the chance to talk to him more since your closer now, that’s the only reason why you even agreed to ryusei’s little prank. it was so worth the reaction though. you’ve had many eyes on you and your used to it by now but this is the first time you’ve felt a magnetic pull that ignited a flicker of excitement within you just from being checked out, especially the way he did.
it was a challenge trying not to stutter after seeing him opening the door, his wife beater hugging his form so deliciously, his exposed big shoulders that his long hair couldn’t cover had you drooling, and grey sweatpants too? he’s such a gorgeous man and he doesn’t even know it.
“don’t worry about him; he’s always like that,” kazutora comforts, gesturing his head inside, inviting you in properly. a slight jingle sound from his earring. “come on in, after you.”
“such a gentleman” you fawned, brushing beside him to walk up the stairs with the three behind, finally reaching baji’s room.
“you got locked out? you, uh, need to call someone?” chifuyu says, a note of concern evident in his tone. avoiding eye contact, trying his best to ignore your.. look.
“i’d rather stay stranded if you don’t mind..” you smile nervously, shoving your hands in your back pocket to avoid fidgeting.
you look around, checking out his hot mess of a room, he’s sitting on his gaming chair, staring at the cat who’s sitting on the window sill, actually, that looks like nightmare!
“how did you get in here?” you murmur lovingly, slowly walking towards the window, bending over to pet her, unknowingly having your ass directly infront of baji, yeah, no doubt. your most definitely teasing. and he’s not falling for it. he kicks his chair back a bit to hit the wall so he can face the cat more.
your eyes flick up towards your window seeing how it’s aligned so perfectly with his, you look down finding nightmare pawing at the binoculars.
you grab it, looking through the lenses and directing it towards baji, “sorry about her; she likes to explore sometimes, especially when it comes to our neighbors.” you tilt the binoculars down a bit to look at him better.
“no worries, cats’re usually like that with me” he says, his voice carrying a husky undertone.
cats love him too? can he get any hotter?
you both sit in silence for a bit until you feel smoke being blown directly on your cheek. you turn, now facing the guy with the tiger tatted on his neck. “here,” he hands you the joint, “you two can smoke, the three of us might play some video games.” kazutora fabricates, he stuffs his hand in his jacket pockets, “you don’t happen to have wifi, do you? ours got cut off.”
you take a puff, blowing it out the window. “of course, here.”
you connect them to your wifi, and kazutora uses it to his own advantage, putting it into baji’s computer. he sits on the bed with chifuyu and ryusei next to him, he opens up a porn site and starts searching for titles he remembers you being in.
he clicks on the first video that pops up and mutes the volume. you mostly did POV videos since it’s what you were mostly known for, hundreds of videos of you bent over, teasing the camera, every POV theme, you did.
you hand baji the joint, a wave of embarrassment takes over, now noticing how soaking wet you were,
“uhm, where’s the bathroom? i need to dry up.. or at least attempt to,” you nervously laugh.
“down the hall to the left” he rasps.
you walk out of the room, feeling baji’s eyes glued to your back as you went to where he directed.
“damn, is this your girl, keisuke?” ryusei teases, watching videos of you plastering your pussy on the internet. “quit it, she’s not my girl.” baji responds with an edge to his voice, continuing to pet nightmare, who’s now laying on his lap with her stomach up.
“not even curious enough to look?” kazutora questions, his head is facing baji, but his eyes are still glued to the screen.
“'m not interested.” baji says with a monotone, knowing it was a flat-out lie, but he couldn’t give in, not yet, especially with you in the house.
chifuyu narrows his eyes at baji with suspicion, nobody knows how baji thinks like he does. he knows he’s not gonna bother asking them for the titles to watch privately, since he’s not gonna hear the end of it from kazutora and ryusei.
chifuyu makes sure kazutora didn’t put it in incognito mode and secretly moves the mouse to favorite the link for baji to check out later, glancing at kazutora and ryusei, hoping they didn’t notice.
you walk back into his room, who didn’t move his eyes away from nightmare the entire time you were gone, he lifts his head up to look at you, taking a long drag from the joint. you walk towards him to snatch the joint from his lips before he finishes it, you crouch down til your eye level with nightmare to pet her, who’s still on his lap. your current position not helping baji’s situation at all.
ryusei clears his throat, leaning back against the headboard, pretending he just didn’t see your entire naked body, head to toe, in every sex position ever created. “so, how’s the move going with you?”
you stand beside the window with your back facing it, you lean back slightly, placing your hand on the window sill for support, “still going..” you sigh, exhaling the smoke out, you quickly glance at baji, catching him with his head tilted upwards ever so slightly, fixated on you with unwavering intensity, his eyes conveying a sense of intrigue.
you immediately look away, breaking eye contact to hold back a smile.
“we’d help but, uh, one of us is a little spatially challenged at the moment” chifuyu points at baji’s ankle monitor with his chin.
“yeah i can tell, he got that whole lindsay lohan thing going on.”
“who?” baji questions, tilting his head as he gazed at you, the sun peeked through the window, streaming directly into his eyes, casting a warm glow over his face, he squints slightly, his eyebrows scrunching together, almost looking like he’s winking at you. his eyes are so intensely brown it’s driving you crazy.
you giggle handing baji the joint to smoke it, he pushes the chair closer towards you and places his foot on the wall right next to your thigh, trapping you between him. he takes a puff from your fingers. the coconut flavor of your lipgloss lingers on the joint, you would’ve thought he was messing with you until your eyes land on his hands, seeing that they’re a little occupied from nightmare playfully biting them.
“where’d you say you were from?” kazutora probes.
you tilted your head towards kazutora’s direction, still keeping eye-contact with baji as he continues playing with nightmare, watching the smoke curl out from his lips as he exhales. “i’m from the city!”
“the city?” he inquires.
you hum enthusiastically in response, “and now forcefully relocated..” you relax your back against the window sill, tilting your head back, letting the breeze hit your neck for a moment as the familiar sound of your mother’s voice reaches your ears, a shiver of fear creeps up your spine, tinged with the realization that you're in a place your definitely not supposed to be, especially since you snuck out without a word.
you jolt up and duck under the window, your head is now directly next to his foot, eye level at his ankle monitor, baji silently chuckles at you, watching his shoulders shake.
“could you come in here, please?”
you look back at the four, mouthing and pointing at the direction of the voice, “my mom”
baji offers a quiet “mm-hmm”, he peers out the window, looking at your mom who’s clearly staring directly at his window.
“yeah, she’s polite and always says please but she has that tone did you notice?” you say sarcastically, realizing that you're sitting on something. you sit up and find a blue marker right under you, taking the opportunity. you bite the lid off and carefully scribble your number onto the monitor that’s resting mere inches from your face, your hand trembles slightly as you add little hearts around and a cat resembling nightmare.
“uhuh, i know that tone” baji replies, you notice a knowing smirk in his tone.
the atmosphere crackles with anticipation as he watches your every move, his gaze lingering on you intently.
you finish off your scribbles on his cuff and place the lid back into the marker, “gotta go before she kills me..” you get up, dusting off your butt from the floor. you start walking towards the door, quickly saying your goodbyes, and run outside towards your mom
baji brings his leg up to his lap to check out the cuff, seeing your little cute doodles and your number in the middle, he bites back a smile hoping his friends don’t see, he leans back against the chair, pushing it closer to the window to watch you walk towards your front door with nightmare beside you.
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it’s been a week since you moved in, since you came over and wrote your number on his cuff, since you became a tattoo in his mind, and he couldn’t control his urges any longer.
he thought he could ignore the fact that he’s neighbors with a goddamn former pornstar but you giving him a show every. damn. time, you undress has been nothing but hard on him, literally.
it’s no coincidence that everytime you undress you had your back facing towards the window, you do it so torturously slow and seductive, almost as if you were giving him a strip tease every night, you knew exactly what you were doing.
in rare occasions you’d catch him staring and he would play it casual, acting like he’s busy doing whatever he does. but sometimes it’s innocent and sweet, you’d catch him staring at you playing with nightmare or getting ready for bed, you’d give an innocent wave or a little nod and he’d do it back, it’s a cute interaction but it’s still not helping him avoid whatever’s in his search history.
and that’s exactly what he’s gonna be clicking on tonight.
he opens the tab, already overwhelmed by the amount of POV options he could choose from. he clicks on the last video you made, and by a freak coincidence; it’s the girl next door themed.
the video starts off with you giving your usual strip tease by the window, classic. baji leans closer to the laptop, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes flicking between your window and the laptop screen.
you reach for your panties, the camera zooms closer to your ass, catching you linking your fingers under the straps, tight around your hips, you slowly start to pull them down, then snap! the camera pans back to your face from your sudden movement, catching you looking directly at the camera, the camera-guy ducks down immediately at the sight, muttering “shit, shit, shit!” behind the camera.
after a couple seconds of him hiding he holds the camera up, checking to see if you’re still there, noticing that you’re nowhere to be seen in your room until he hears footsteps walking towards the house, he pans the camera down catching you walk towards his front door.
the doorbell starts ringing.
baji’s eyes flick towards your window again after seeing your lights turn on from his peripheral vision. seeing you throw yourself onto your bed seemingly exhausted doing god knows what.
disappearing out of his sight; he continues watching the video that was still going.
“i’ll delete the video if you suck my dick” said the camera man, your eyes lit up at the offer, already getting down on your knees to unzip his pants. you bite your lip with anticipation as you look up at him with glassy doe eyes, correction; looking at the camera lense. you jerk his pants down along with his boxers–
a fluffy feline silhouette appears, blocking the laptop screen with its presence, demanding attention with a gentle purr emanating from her throat.
“seriously nightmare? now?” he gently pushes her off the laptop, accidentally having her tap on the keys from his push, disrupting the video and making it skip to the part where you finally get fucked.
except, the volume was all the way up. filthy loud moans emitting from his laptop speakers, baji immediately shuts it in shame, and from behind the laptop screen it was you, looking directly at him with a walkie talkie in your hands.
you click on the button, “sounds like somebody’s got access to the internet again” holding back a giggle.
the sound of your voice come out from the walkie talkie on his table, seeing nightmare pawing at it, she must’ve brought it here and was trying to get his attention for it.
he grabs the walkie talkie and rolls the chair closer to the window, click, “you could say that.”
click, “what’re you watchin’?”
click, “a continuous of.. something we recorded.”
click, “we?”
he grabs the camcorder from his desk and replays the part where you teased him on his front door directly to the walkie talkie speaker.
click, you laugh at the humiliating sound of your own voice attempting to seduce the hunk next door, “oh my god i completely forgot about that!”
he tongues his inner cheek, emitting an amused scoff. click, “i didn’t.”
click, “what? you jack off to it every night?” you joke with a small laugh.
click, he licks his canines, a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “maybe”
click, “don’t you got a girlfriend?”
click, “says who?”
click, “you look like a guy who would have a girlfriend”
click, he tuts “nah, i never had time.. why the sudden curiosity? y’want me or somethin’?”
you squirm in your seat, pulling up your knees to your chest and burying your face in them. click, “i didn’t mean it like that…”
click, he tilts his head slightly, leaning back against the chair. “c’mon.. be brave, just like how you were last week on my front door.” baji sways the chair side to side with his leg.
you peek your head out from your knees, resting your chin on it. click, “you’re just gonna keep bringing that up huh..”
click, “uhuh.”
click, “what did you mean by continuous by the way?” you say after a few minutes of silence.
you watch him spin his chair side by side as he ponders his answer for a bit, click, “c’mere and i’ll show you exactly what i meant.”
you bite your lip from his boldness, you didn’t expect that from him at all, then again, you didn’t expect him to be shy either, he looks like the type of guy that makes sure he gets what he wants and god does that thought make you throb.
click, “i can’t.. i’m sort of grounded for sneaking out, ever since we moved here mom’s been eyeing me like a hawk, why don’t you come here instead?”
he places his cuffed leg up on the window sill, indicating that he’s still in house arrest, you completely forgot that you’re neighbors with a criminal, another thought that has you throbbing.
click, “how’d you get that?”
click, “burnin’ a cop car for shits n giggles.”
click, “didn’t know i was neighbors with an anarchist.” you tease.
click, he mumbles “didn’t know i was neighbors with a pornstar but y’learn new shit everyday huh?”
click, “what?”
click, “don’t worry your pretty brain, gimme a sec.” he stands up from the chair and walks out of his room, disappearing from your sight, a couple minutes pass by and he comes back with a long ladder, placing it on his window and pushes it straight towards yours.
you lean your head out of the window from his action, “are you insane?! i’m not coming in like that!”
“what? too chicken shit?” he chuckles, successfully bridging the gap between your window and his. he pulls out the camcorder and clicks on the record button, panning the lenses towards you, “i’ll hold it just c’mere.”
you shake your head, incredulous. “you’re crazy–“
“you don’t trust me?” he persists, tilting his head, his gaze fixates on you with such intensity that has you breathless.
you sigh, rolling your head back. fuck it, you reluctantly step closer to the ladder. “if i break my neck it’s on you” you slowly start to climb the ladder towards him.
he grins, his eyes lingering on you, drinking in your reaction to the height as he watches you climb up with shaky hands.
he couldn’t resist fucking with you, captivated by the way your fear only seemed to enhance how gorgeous you are, he gently starts rocking the ladder back and forth, pretending to lose his grip.
you shriek, mixing with laughter, echoing in the quiet night, you bite back your screams trying to avoid your parents attention. “you fucking dickhead! stop!” your grip tightens.
“i don’t even think this fall is gonna break a neck i think it’s gonna kill me!” you whisper scream at him, laughter turning into nervous giggles.
he finds your determination cute, even after his little attempt to give you a heart attack, he relents, “alright i’ll behave, just get over here already.” he steadies the ladder.
you resume your ascent, curses punctuating the quiet of the night. you finally reach his window, breathless but wearing a triumphant grin, he offers you a hand, pulling him into his room with a subtle yet lingering touch.
you both stand face to face, the adrenaline from your little escapade still coursing through your veins, “didn’t know you had it in you.” he toys.
you roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder, “you’re an asshole you know that!” a hint of a smile plays at the corners of your lips, unable to suppress it.
he zooms the camera lense at your cheek, “yeah, think i made you cry a little bit” he teases, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.
“shut up, it’s just the wind in my eye” you mutter, wiping at your cheek with the back of your hand.
“is that right?” his hand moves almost instinctively, gently cupping your cheek as he wipes the tear away with his thumb. his touch starts to linger, gaze fixating on your lips, slowly tracing his finger along your bottom lip.
you gasp softly, caught off guard by the sudden shift of the atmosphere, his touch intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine. instinctively, you lean into his touch, your tongue darting out to lick the lingering taste of your tears from his finger.
your eyes lock, lips slightly parting, taking in his thumb in your mouth as you start to suck on it.
he sighs, biting back his groan from emitting out of his throat, observing you from the camcorder as you suck on his thumb like a mindless whore, “uhuh, open that pretty mouth f’me.. all the way.” he flicks his eyes from the camera screen to look at you, you do as he says just from the look in his eyes, like a good girl would, he starts tracing his thumb around your tongue, thrusting his fingers in and out of your mouth, prepping it for his cock that was already bulging out of his sweats.
“suck it just like that..” he says, drunkenly watching your eyes water as you gag around his fingers, he tuts, “already?” you whimper, drooling all over his fingers, “m’ i gonna have to prep that pussy too?” you shake your head, whining even more.
“c’mon baby, use your words.” he pinches your cheeks together smushing your face, your doe eyes flick down to his crotch before looking back up again, soft lips pushed out in a pout, you link your fingers down under at the band of his boxers, pulling him closer towards you.
his grip tightens on your cheek as he lifts your head up, the look on his face when he stares down at you makes you weak in the knees.
“you actually wet this time?” he teases, bringing up what happened last week yet again,
you tease back, “how about you touch me and find out?”
he lightly slaps your cheek shutting you up, making you yelp, rubbing your thighs together after he genuinely made your clit embarrassingly throb from the slap. his hand finds its place on your cheek again, “quit being a tease and do as i say princess” he mocks.
“what does that needy pussy want, huh?”
“wanna suck your dick.” the way you were acting so damn shy and obedient as if you weren’t whoring yourself out and plastering your pussy all over the internet makes his dick spring up in an instant.
“yeah?” he tilts his head, moving the camera away to admire you, the ends of his hair tickling your skin, you nod persistently, he grins wider, his canines poking out of his lips, his hand slides down your throat and grips around it, pulling you closer towards his face as he locks his lips with yours,
your plump coconut flavored lips kisses him back, groaning at your taste, remembering how he first tasted it when it was lingering on the joint. you deepen the kiss after feeling his grip tighten,
he pulls you closer towards his chest, making you stand on your tippy toes savoring the kiss, your hands rest atop his chest to tug on his shirt desperately, silently begging for more of him, his tongue licks at the bottom of your lips. finally breaking the kiss off to breathe, his spit string connected to your lips, your knees already growing weak from the small make out sesh as he grabs a handful of your hair, tugging it down forcing you on your knees, enough to make your pupils dilate at the subtle feeling of pain, he takes a mental note of your masochism and unlinks his sweats, sitting down on his chair, legs spread wide open for you to drool and gush over.
he points the camera towards you again, “what’re y’waitin’ for huh? suck what you’ve been beggin’ for.”
your fingers tremble with desire, squeezing your thighs together getting wetter and wetter from how deep his voice is, you curl your fingers under the boxer band and pull it down, freeing his thick fat dick out from it’s confinements, falling entranced with the bobbing of his cock that sprung upwards towards his stomach.
your hand reaches out to grab his cock, wrapping him around your delicate hand, slowly jerking him back and forth. your fingers aren’t even near touching from how thick he was, a fat flushed tip pooling with pre making you drool at the sight.
you part your lips, flattening your tongue around his tip, circling around it, toying with him– toying with his patience,
he rolls his head back holding in his groans as you bob your head up and down painfully slow, he snakes his fingers through your hair, grabbing a handful of it to push you down further, thrusting in your throat, back and forth. you moan on his dick, he grips onto the camcorder tight, your throat vibrations against it almost made him lose control, he yanks your hair pulling you back away from his dick, groaning at the loss of you.
saliva trailed from your mouth to his tip, making his dick twitch at the sight.
you teasingly kiss at the tip, giggling at his reaction as you quickly got up to walk over his bed, bending over, crawling towards the middle of it. you arch your back, ass up with your head down, you look back at him motioning him to walk over with your finger as you moved your hips back and forth.
he zooms the camcorder at your form, “there she is..” he slowly starts to walk over towards you, he grabs your hips, hooking onto your black lace shorts and tugging it back towards his crotch to grind on you, you arch against him, moaning at the friction of his hardened dick against your aching clit, pushing yourself back like a bitch in heat, “pretty fuckin’ sight, right there.”
he reaches his hand down, skimming up your thighs, spreading it apart more, the hand at your thigh slides up and cups your ass, pulling your shorts upwards to reveal the outline of your plush pussy, you silently thank god you were wearing black or you’d already have a visible wet spot.
you can’t help the blush that consumes your entire face, burying your face into his blanket from embarrassment, “stop teasing me..”
he hums in response, getting a close up of your outline on his camera, “i haven’t even seen your pussy and just from the outline of it.. jesus christ, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he says through gritted teeth as if he was straining to hold himself back from eating you,
he starts kissing your clothed clit, burying his sharp nose up the seam of your shorts. “need to taste you.” he rips off your shorts in a blink of an eye,
“w-wait-“ “i’ll buy you new ones baby, quit whinin’.’”
he pulls at the sides of your panties, letting them go to snap back against your pussy. you whimper at the sensation, greedily moving your hips against his finger trying to get him to touch you already. he tuts, moving his hand away making you miss his fingers, you feel a sharp smack against your ass, “be patient.”
he slowly starts pulling them off of you, you wish you weren’t so embarrassed from your position so you could look at his pretty face, it’s always what drove you crazy about him, feeling his eyes on you everytime you undress in-front of the window, of course you fucking did that on purpose, your neighbor is hot for god’s sakes! all you ever fantasized about was him, him, him.
and here he is, right in-between your legs from behind, recording and staring at your pretty pussy glistening around his index finger, slowly rubbing your slit up and down, his long finger slides up inside you, curling it, the bottom of his palm rubs right against your clit.
baji hovers above you, jaw clenched as he works his hand fast, shoving his ring finger to join his middle one. he whispers in your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ hot like this, so needy for me.” he kisses and bites the back of your neck, trailing his lips down your back towards your ass, lowering himself to be in direct line of sight of your pussy again.
he lightly starts sucking on your now swollen clit, burying his face in your cunt, messily eating you making the nastiest noises, which sends your hips squirming away from his lips, he circles his arms around your thighs, keeping you still enough while he tasted you.
he continues finger-fucking you, hardening his tongue to lick at your clit. he changes his thrusts to the scissoring motion. even though you told him you didn’t need prepping for his cock, something tells him that you’re not gonna be able to take it, begging him to stop.. whining about how it’s too much, the thought of hurting you like that and stretching your cunt out to only fit the form of his cock got him twitching.
seems like he’s not the only one who’s throbbing already, feeling your walls tighten up around his fingers, thighs trembling beyond your control as he holds it down with his grip that squeezes you from time to time. your moans, pleads and whimpers were music to his ears as you climax on his mouth,
you grip at the sheets feeling him spit on your pussy, sucking and tasting your juices with his eyes dilated, taking in the sight of his meal as if this is his last one, cause you truly are gonna be the fucking death of him. his fingers spread open your folds, watching his spit drip in between, clenching around nothing since you were achingly empty, he suddenly lifts his face, coming up to hover over you, continuing to work his fingers into you, fucking your own slick back into your cunt. “think she can handle my cock baby?” he gives your pussy a quick slap!
you clamp your teeth, hissing at the slap, you push yourself up with your arm to meet his eyes, biting your plump lips as you look back at him finger fucking you, the corners of his mouth glistening with your arousal, you nod persistently.
“use your words.” he gives your pussy another slap, “yes, yesyesyes..! please..” you plead pathetically, tears leaking from overwhelming pleasure already and he hasn’t even fucking started.
“atta girl, gonna give your pussy what it keeps throbbin’ for, and ‘m not gonna fuckin’ stop.” he says in between ripping off a condom from its confinement with his teeth and slides it on his cock, you moan after every promise he makes as he slowly sinks his tip in, your swollen plush lips swallowing and clenching him already, “shit.. ease up baby, you’re so goddamn tight.” his head tilts back, feeling you resist him, he hisses trying so hard to hold back from blowing his load right then and there.
he slides his hand to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as his entire length finally sinks into you, you immediately grip on his arms, nails digging into him as a whine leaves your throat.
he pulls out and slides back in, over and over, his eyes glued to the way your slick is already coating his cock, he keeps his pace slow and hard, finding your spots and avoiding hitting your cervix, as much as he loves the thought of seeing you in pain he’d rather watch you squirt from overwhelming pleasure all over his abdomen.
his head dips down into the crook of your neck, biting it to suppress his groans, holding back from pulling out the condom and snapping his hips against your ass, the thought of breeding you is slowly consuming him and he’s trying his very best to hold that back.
suddenly, the creak of the front door of the house interrupts, followed by the soft thud of it closing. baji recognizes his mom’s footsteps slowly approaching the stairs, he suddenly straightens up at the sound, turning his head towards his door expecting her to barge in like she usually would, he takes the opportunity to slide the condom off, slowly shoving his tip back in, ignoring her presence in the house.
“s-stop.. i think somebody’s here.. i-“ he cuts you off immediately shoving two fingers into your mouth, “suck ‘n shut the fuck up.” the worst part about all of this is that he doesn’t stop.
matter of fact, his pace is moving faster than before, sounds of his hips roughly clapping your ass echoes around his room. you try to talk with a mouthful, “she’s gonna hear-“ “i don’t give a shit.” he gags you with his fingers, rolling his waist to knock into you, soaking wet pussy coating his abdomen, strings of slick connecting the two of you as he continues to kill your guts, forcing you to swallow back your screams as you mindlessly suck on his fingers like a dumb whore.
the second he started fucking you raw, everything that was holding him back from brutally pounding you is gone, your pussy’s too damn addictive, he can’t miss it for a minute, god if he was one of your costars he would’ve grown attached to you, making the producers yell “cut” cause he just. won’t. stop. fucking you.
you plead for him to stop, trying to push him back, too overstimulated for another orgasm, you suppress more moans from escaping your lips as he shoves all of his pulsating dick inside your wet cavern. the base of his cock meets your slit to let you know just how absolutely deep he’s gone in.
you were a siren to him, whimpers and squeaks too addictive to hear that he falls in a trance, watching you suppressing your noises like he ordered you to. he’s already planning on rewarding you for being such a good girl for him, ideas about lapping on your pussy nonstop cloud his mind, yeah. he’s gonna make you his after this.
for now, you don’t care about anything else except the feeling of his intoxicating desperate thrusts as he rams more forcefully inside, tears well up your eyes along with your whimpers. slobbering over his fingers and choking on your spit, you clench around him as you feel a growing sensation in your lower abdomen, aside from butterflies.
baji finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, “speak up baby.” he taunts before tightening his hand around your neck “fuckmybrainsoutfuckmybrainsout please please..” you can barely form a word from the pressure he’s putting against your windpipe, the only words that emit from your mouth are the words of a bitch in heat who’s clit possessed her body, mind and soul, and that’s exactly who you are right now.
“shit. let me cum inside you and i will princess.”
“wh- what about the condom..”
he grunts feeling you tighten around him, “must’ve slipped out.”
he’s so fucking mean, you’d be lying if you said you hated it, especially with the way you clenched around him after finding out that he was fucking you raw this entire time.
you nod, you nod desperately and latch onto his arms when the skin slapping becomes louder and louder with each second that passes, you cry in absolute euphoria as he chases his orgasm, feeling his own climax budding inside of him.
you start clapping your ass up to meet his thrusts, your mind brainless from his constant fucking, focused on one thing and one thing only.
your tits bounces as he jerks his hips more rapidly, he cusses under his breath, catching up to an animalistic pace until you completely disintegrate under him by the time you reach your climax.
your legs shake and your lips quiver, baji takes the opportunity and coats your insides with his load, shooting thick ropes of white all over your walls as you clench your cunt around him, draining the life out of him from the tip of his dick just from your tight pussy.
gasping and whimpering as he slowly pulls out of you to direct the camcorder towards your pussy, watching how his hot seed oozes out of the hole he just destroyed. he gives your ass a smack, flesh shaking like jelly as you push out more of his seed, making it drip down your slit, he grabs your ass spreading you open to give more room for it to ooze out.
“you’re so fucking perfect.. mine. all mine..” he says softly from behind the camcorder, he pans the camera towards your face, you smile into your shoulder blissfully and giggle as he films your bruised and used cunt. “mhm.. only mine.”
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reiderwriter · 10 months
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Margaritas and Mistakes
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!
PART TWO!
You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.
“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.
“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”
“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.
“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”
“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.
“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”
“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”
You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.
“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.
“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.
“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”
“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.
“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”
This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.
“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…
–X–
After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.
You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.
Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.
“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.
“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.
“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.
“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.
“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.
“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.
“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.
“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.
“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.
“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"
“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.
“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.
“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.
“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.
“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.
“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.
–X–
Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.
After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.
So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.
But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.
But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.
He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.
You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.
“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.
“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.
Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.
“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.
You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.
Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.
“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.
“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”
“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.
“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.
“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.
“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.
“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.
“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.
“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”
They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.
“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.
“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.
“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.
The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.
“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.
“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”
“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”
“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”
“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.
–X–
Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.
“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.
“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.
“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.
“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.
“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.
“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.
Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.
“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.
“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.
Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.
“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.
“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.
Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.
“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.
As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.
You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.
“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.
“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.
He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.
“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”
“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.
“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”
And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.
PART TWO
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hotnbloodied · 3 months
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Yan!Cheater X Reader
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
TW: cheating, implied stalking, kidnapping, physical violence, confinement.
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
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You were with Marshall for about three years now, everything seemed to be going fine. At least, that’s what you thought. You two had met back when you were starting out as a bartender. Honestly, maybe if you listened to your coworkers about how he was at the bar all the time and took people home regularly it would have been the first red flag, but you were too naive at the time. Not to mention that the more you think about it now, the more you realize that he always seemed to know what to say, sweet honeyed words, charming smiles, small gifts. You felt like you wanted to throw up, the two of you were even talking about starting a family for crying out loud!
So imagine your horror when you decided to stop by his apartment since you got out of your, now corporate job, early to get dinner started for him and found clothes scattered throughout. Bursting into his bedroom you found him and a person you didn’t recognize both naked in his bed. After telling both of them to fuck off you stormed out of his apartment and blocked his phone number and socials. Funny thing you realized is that he didn’t know where you lived. Since in all the time you two were together there was never a time he stepped foot in your house.
At first it was hard on you, you used to care for Marshall all the time and you grieved the time you spent on him. But after the week or so of angst that you allowed yourself, you started doing better. You had more time to yourself and more freedom. You even started accepting your coworker’s invitation for drinks. But just when you thought that you found a good groove to yourself the phone calls started.
‘babe plz take me back’
‘I miss u’
‘Y did u block me????’
‘U r NOTHING w/o me!!!’
You were startled to say the least, but you knew him (right?) There is no way a proud person like him would cause a scene that would make him look crazy… (would he?) So imagine your surprise when you were heading out of work only to be grabbed by Marshall. You almost didn’t recognize him since usually styled hair was greasy and messy, his face which was usually pristine looked rough and there were a couple of breakouts, his clothes that he meticulously planned were nowhere to be found but instead he wore loose fitting mismatched pieces.
If you saw him first you might have been able to steer clear of him, but alas, he saw you first and grabbed your arm. “Please take me back!” He sobbed. “I feel so empty without you!” You cringed and tried pulling back your arm, “hey, let go of me. You’re the one who wanted to backstab me.” He gripped tighter, making you wince a bit, “I promise I’ll be better! I’ll pay attention to no one else but you! I’ll think of no one else but you! Look! I even deleted all my contacts!” He attempted to take out his phone with only one hand but you didn’t care if it was true. “Let go of me you fuck!” You swung your arm trying to break free, it was until a coworker saw the bind you were in and stepped in. Separating the two of you and knocking Marshall down. “Leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops next time!” You yelled at his fallen form.
Marshall looked up at you and started laughing, it was slow at first but turned maniacal quickly. “I see how it is, have fun with your new boy toy while it lasts! I’ll get you back.” He clumsily stood up and left hastily. Your co-worker asked if you were okay and  you thanked him for his help. He told you that you should probably go to the police station to make a statement but you brushed him off. Oh how stupid of you.
One particular late night after working late you were walking home, until you suddenly blacked out. You awoke to a throbbing pain in your head, vision blurry and unable to move your body freely. “H-huh?” “Welcome home darling!” Through your haze, you saw Marshall. He looked better than the last time you saw him but something wasn’t right. You suddenly realized that you were in a situation so you looked around the room and you saw pictures of you scattered everywhere from the ceilings to the walls and even some on the floor. “Where… am I?” He scoffed, “home! Do you like the pictures?” He giggled, “it wasn’t until after you left did I realize that I didn’t have enough photos of you. Which reminds me!” He took out his phone and started snapping pictures of you while in your state of being restrained and confused in an unfamiliar bed. You looked so alluring to him, so much so that it got him a little too excited that even you could see it.
“Marshall, let me go! I won’t press charges.” “Oh that’s right that you won’t press charges, cause you will never be able to! I’ve prepared this cage for you, my pretty bird. And I'm not going to let the only good thing that was a part of my life leave me... ever again.”
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ncteez · 1 year
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NEIGHBORLY (c.s.c. & k.m.g.)
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When a single man moves in next door to you and your husband, it wasn’t difficult for either of you to take interest in what he could offer to the dynamic of your lives together. Unfortunately, the new interesting man appears to be afraid to admit that he’s curious as to what happens behind your very unlocked front door.  or the one where your husband, seungcheol, fucks you in front of the window to help the neighbor get off and then said neighbor shows up at the door a week later.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog to give gyucheol a kiss on the forehead
WORDCOUNT ― 18.8k
PAIRING ― husband seungcheol x afab reader x voyeur mingyu 
CONTENT― husband!cheol, bachelor mingyu, open marriage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, second hand embarrassment, threesome, smut. 
WARNINGS ― mentions of mingyu’s ex cheating on him, also seungcheol is assumed to be bisexual and/or he is attracted to mingyu too but there isn’t any dude on dude stuff. seungcheol does put his fingers in mingyu’s mouth tho, deal with it.
NOTE ― i cannot and i will not defend my actions. also, huge shoutout to @homerunhansol for proof reading this for me!!
smut tags below cut:
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smut tags― exhibitionism, voyeurism, big dick cheol, HUGE dick mingyu, top/dom(ish) cheol, service top/shy/bottom(ish) mingyu, embarrassment kink???, mentions of porn, masturbation, phone sex kind of?? idk he calls mingyu so he can listen to the shit he’s seeing, alcohol consumption, finger fucking, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, tit fondling, raw grinding,  oral (f & m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, making out, dirty talk, pussy drunk men, cock drunk reader, double vaginal penetration, riding, missionary, finger sucking, cum stuffing, desperate desperate people!!! 
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~
Mingyu ran from a lot of things. He ran from his ex fiancée when she cheated, he ran from new opportunities out of fear of losing what he already had, ran from a cop once as a teenager for streaking near the old folk’s home. Running wasn’t exactly something he’s fond of but, more often than not it’s what his heart tells him to do.
As stated, the last time he ran away was when his fiancée was found in the bed he paid for with her co-worker. That’s when his need to run came in the most handy, having no qualms with giving her the apartment and everything in it. His job allowed him to leave without much of a financial hit, her’s wouldn’t. 
The ring he bought stayed on her finger for some reason, the home he made became one she shared with any man that wasn’t him. It’s okay though, because to him, she can have it. He’s much more comfortable starting over than she would be. So, that’s what he does. 
He has money, he has a good job, and now he has a lovely house of his own on a quaint little street on the other side of town. Far far away from her. 
Starting over is equally as exhausting as it is exciting but, Mingyu keeps his chin up throughout the process. Making an empty house his new home, working his job as if his entire intimate life didn’t just fall apart, and of course, preparing himself to mingle with the new neighbors. 
A month after moving, Mingyu had made platter after platter of food for neighbors as his greeting in an attempt to make friends. Many accepted and returned his dishes washed and unscratched. All are friendly to him but, the majority of people in this neighborhood are middle aged and a bit out of his league. There is one pair of neighbors who appear more around his age though, and interested in actual friendship with him. The pair who brought his dishes back full of their own offer of a decent dinner for him to eat on his own time. 
Despite the majority of people living on this street being polite and fond of him as a newcomer, this specific couple appears to be the only ones without an entire family. Just like Mingyu. No children, free time to go out on the weekends, no minivans or babysitters coming every day during working hours. Naturally, he internally clings to the idea of them being his new friends, because his old group of friends consisted of his ex fiancée and her tight-knit group of pompous women and their boy toys. 
Seungcheol is the husband’s name, and briefly he met you alongside him a few times. He assumes you must have your own interests to cater to, because each time he finds himself on his own front porch with Seungcheol talking and joking around, you rarely come with him. Save for the one or two times you did stay to hang out for a couple of hours.
After a few months, he’s managed to sprout friendship with the man next door who has a pretty wife with a ring on her finger. Mingyu tries not to internalize that he was supposed to be living the way Seungcheol is. Maybe he’s a bit jealous of the happiness in Seungcheol’s eyes when he talks about you, or maybe it makes him feel like he either wasn’t good enough as a partner, or his ex simply just didn’t love him anymore. 
Still, even with the slight jealousy, Mingyu is comfortable around him. He’s never clicked with another man so quickly in terms of friendship, at least not without several shots of hard liquor to get himself comfortable. It’s definitely different with his neighbor. 
The guy is open, kind, and occasionally pretty funny. He comes over a few nights a week with the claim of “man-time”. It’s been at least fifteen times since he officially met Seungcheol and comfort comes alongside him when he sits on this porch and they fuck around about menial things. Hanging out with him is arguably like a breath of fresh air. 
Seungcheol though, he takes note of a lot of things that Mingyu doesn’t quite seem to notice himself. One, any time he mentions his wife, Mingyu’s eyes falter a bit. Two, he is clearly a single man and Seungcheol can’t quite grasp why that is because he’s a handsome dude, with a level personality. Three, there are slight self-deprecating jokes coming from Mingyu at least five times an hour and it’s starting to make him wonder. At first it can be funny, but after a while it kind of stops being a joke. 
So, here they are, joking and having a nice conversation on Mingyu’s porch. It’s a Friday night and Seungcheol assumes they’re close enough by this point to really talk. You’re in the back of his mind, making offers, smirking about the new neighbor, laying down the interest flat out after merely meeting with him a few times. If Mingyu really is a single man, and if he’s as open minded as he seems, perhaps laying down some hints and an invite can help him out of this clear slump that he tries to pretend he’s not in. 
“What about you? Do you have someone in your life?” Seungcheol asks after a solid twenty minutes of gushing about you. Internally knowing what he says about you is true, but also trying to sell the idea of how wonderful and sexy you are. He leans back as he studies Mingyu, noting the way he stiffens at the question. 
Again, it’s clear that Mingyu is a single man with the way he’s always in this house alone before and after work. On the weekends, he’s sitting on his porch waiting for Seungcheol to come join him. Sometimes there’s a doubt though, because looking at him, anyone would believe he is taken. He is down to earth, funny, kind, handsome as hell. Maybe he does see people and Seungcheol just never catches it. 
“Ah, no,” Mingyu avoids eye contact, trying to laugh it off as he confirms Seungcheol’s suspicions. He wants to talk about what happened though. He hasn’t been able to talk about it, and honestly, Seungcheol seems like a trusted friend at this point. “I was with someone for six years, asked her to marry me, and then we broke it off. That’s why I’m here now.”
“Oh yeah? Starting over, huh?” Seungcheol nods politely at him, figuring something like this may have happened. “Can I ask what happened?”
Mingyu shrugs nonchalantly, looking at Seungcheol with a carefree face and a smile.
“She wasn’t the most faithful, you know how it goes with those sorts of things, I guess.” 
Seungcheol studies his face a bit more, seeing straight through that carefree attitude and noting the immense amount of hurt Mingyu must feel. 
“I don’t, actually.” Seungcheol starts, watching Mingyu’s brow rise in confusion. 
“Oh, that’s lucky.” He responds with a defeated shrug, almost wanting to roll his eyes. “You might be the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t dealt with infidelity at some point. Even just as a teenager.”
“On the contrary,” Seungcheol says with a smirk, leaning towards Mingyu as if he has a secret to tell. “We fuck other people all the time.”
Mingyu stares at him as he processes those words. Unsure of it that means they both are cheating out of spite, or if they’re about to divorce or something. 
“Sometimes in the same bed.” 
Oh. 
“At the same time.”
Seungcheol dead pan stares at Mingyu, searching for a reaction to his words. There have been many times where he and his wife invite someone to their bedroom, and many more times where the person ended up so freaked out that they ghosted the entire situation. Perhaps out of fear that Seungcheol doesn’t know what he’s doing with his wife. Many people can’t seem to fathom that possessiveness, jealousy, and competition aren’t part of the deal. 
You married Seungcheol and he married you long after the two of you started doing this. The trial period was over before it even started. He loved watching you be pleasured, and you loved the way he looked at you as it happened. Of course, not all of the sex involves other people, but it never hurts the marriage when a third shows up. 
“Oh–” Mingyu swallows around his dry throat, mind running in several directions at once. He’s not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s cool, I guess.”
Seungcheol stays silent, smirking a bit at the way Mingyu, so huge and broad, stutters to find the words to say. It’s not like he straight up invited him, not yet at least. 
“I couldn’t imagine doing that, considering I just left my fiancée for fucking someone else.” 
Seungcheol nods both understandingly and apologetically. People do tend to mix up the two. Is it cheating when he watches another man or woman fuck you? To some people, yeah but, monogamy is natural for many people. 
“I assume she didn’t tell you that she would be fucking someone else.” Seungcheol shrugs, leaning back again. “I can imagine that even if she did tell you, you’d not have allowed it, right?”
Mingyu nods. 
“It puts my stomach in knots to think of someone I love wanting to be with someone else.” 
“That’s fair,” Seungcheol starts, glancing away and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “What if someone else wanted you to fuck the person they love?”
Mingyu freezes again, unsure of if he’s thinking too hard about that question, or not enough. 
“I’m sorry, what?” He asks defensively, looking his neighbor dead in the eye. 
“I’m not saying you have to take up this offer but, I mean, you’re a single guy. I’m a married guy, with a wife who is incredibly curious about you.” 
Mingyu continues to process the words, still overthinking it. 
“Is this a joke?” He asks in a quieter voice, whispering as if the entire neighborhood can hear them. 
“Are you attracted to her?” Seungcheol continues to press, wondering what it’ll take to get a simple yes or no out of him. He notes the way Mingyu’s ear goes red, and can’t tell if it’s because of the offer or because he’s afraid to call another man’s wife attractive.
“Here, let me rephrase,” He starts over, leaning forward again. “My wife thinks you’re, in her own words, ‘beautiful.’ She asks about you every time I come home from hanging out here, and she’s starting to get persistent.”
Mingyu, still at a loss for words, slowly nods. 
“She’s pretty, yeah.” He says, now leaning himself toward Seungcheol and raising a brow in curiosity. 
“As a single man, are you looking for love or are you looking for fun?” Seungcheol continues, prying answers out of him and smiling at the way it seems he was right in believing there is interest here.
“I just got out of a six year relationship, I’m not trying to do all of that again,” Mingyu shakes his head in disappointment. “Not for now, at least.”
“So, do you want to fuck my wife?”
Silence. 
Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, seemingly frustrated.
“Look, does it help to know that I want to watch you fuck my wife?”
Louder silence. 
“Okay, you clearly need some time to think. Just, if you’re ever interested let me know. I can open the blinds if you want, like a sample or something.”
Seungcheol can see the way his eyes glisten at that offer through his silence. The wavering interest igniting right then and there. Ah, a voyeur, what a perfect addition to this neighborhood of dry vanilla cake. It’s not strange at all to see a monogamous man watching his footing in this situation, but the offer to watch is an entirely different thing from an offer to join right off the bat. Especially since there needs to be boundaries set if he decides he does want to fuck you.
For instance, when did he last get tested? Considering he got duped by his ex, that’s important. Does he like it raw? Does he know the ass belongs to Seungcheol? Etcetera. 
“Can you say something? I’m starting to feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“Ah, sorry. It’s just–” Mingyu leans back with a sigh of relief at the general questioning being over and done with. “Yeah, I need to think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard,” Seungcheol laughs. “It’s getting late so, if you need me I’ll be fucking my wife.”
Mingyu watches him stand on his feet and follows the action. Feeling both closer to him and also in a rut of wondering if their entire friendship will rely on whether he wants to fuck his wife or not. Should he like, hug him goodbye or something?
He stands awkwardly as Seungcheol studies him even more. 
“Just think about it, really. She loves being watched too, if you don’t want to be involved directly.” 
God, he can feel how red his ears and face have become, surely Seungcheol knows by now that the interest outweighs the concerns. And as Seungcheol turns to head down the steps, he calls out to him. 
“Let’s say I’m interested but unsure of how to go about it, what then?”
Seungcheol turns to him and smiles, taking a few steps closer so that he doesn’t have to yell out to him. 
“It’s sex. If you know how to fuck, you fuck.“
“And if I’m not entirely ready to throw myself into your marital bed?” 
“Just let me know, like I said, opening the curtains isn’t the most insane sexual practice.”
Mingyu being the person looking through those curtains though…is it really not as insane as he’s thinking it is?
~
“So…?” You ask as soon as Seungcheol comes through the door, clinging to him with doe-eyes and a smile. 
“He seems interested but,” Your husband slides off his shoes and heads straight for the couch to lay against it in a huff. “I don’t know. Just found out his ex cheated on him after like six years, I think the whole idea spooked him.”
“Ah, damn.” You look to the floor, and then make your way onto the couch with him. “What did you say?”
“I asked him if he wanted to fuck you.”
You narrow your eyes at him before rolling them with a frustrated sigh. 
“Why would you ask him straight up like that? I cannot believe you pride yourself in being the talker of our sex life. It’s no wonder we have trouble finding people to join.”
Seungcheol looks at you with a fond smirk.
“Would you feel better if I told you that he admitted to thinking you’re pretty?”
You smile, warming up next to your husband and feeling entirely safe here. 
“What about if I told you that right before I came back home, he said he was interested and just didn’t know how to go about it?” 
A bigger smile forms on your face as you look up at him, devious eyes glistening in the warm lighting of your living room. 
“I offered that he can just watch instead. If he takes up that offer, it won't be long before he’s banging on our front door ready to show us a good time.”
You reach up to brush some of his fringe out of his face before releasing a dreamy sigh. 
“He’s so big. Like, even from here I can tell he must be packing. I hope you’re right.” You say as Seungcheol rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Mingyu is your type and you’re probably never gonna shut up about him.  “Can’t believe someone cheated on that.” 
“Alright, alright.” He playfully complains, shoving you back against the couch and practically smothering you with his form as he flops down on you. “He hasn’t accepted yet, save those compliments for if he joins. He seems pretty shy, probably likes to be doted on.”
“Ooh, shy?”
“Oh yeah, for sure. He was actually stuttering when I made the offer, I don’t think he noticed how red his face got.”
You chuckle at the mental image of Mingyu being shy. You only had to meet him a few times to grow interest in him, but on first glance you’d think he would be the dominant type. It’s a welcome change that your husband thinks he’s the opposite.
“Do you think If I joined you next time, he might be more inclined to pull it out or something?”
“Absolutely not. I can imagine he wouldn’t even come out of his house if he saw you on his porch after what I said to him.”
“God, he’s cute.”
Seungcheol nods against you in agreement, finally pulling his weight from you and standing on his feet. 
“Yeah, it’ll be fun to see where this leads. Now if you’ll just follow me to the bedroom, I also told him I’d be fucking you tonight so I’d like to make good on my promise.” 
Fortunately for you, Seungcheol never makes a promise that he can’t keep.
~
For days Mingyu contemplates the things his neighbor said. Over the short time he’s known him, he clicked into friendship so easily and felt like he could trust him. Apparently, Seungcheol felt the same way because spilling all of those intimate details right there during a regular hang out was a bit out of the blue. Then again, he can’t imagine a married man would simply offer for anyone to fuck his wife, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons of this situation.
If it was a joke, he thinks he would know by now. All he’s gotten from Seungcheol since then is pleasant conversation as if the offer was never made to begin with. Which somehow makes it worse because he wants to talk about it. He wants more clarity. 
God, since then, he’s had nothing but intrusive thoughts of fantasies he’s never considered before. He’s so horny out of his mind on a daily basis thinking about it, especially now that he doesn’t have his ex fiancée around. Porn has never been so loved by him until now. Even when he was a teenager, he never jerked off this much just to calm his thoughts. 
The various types of porn he’s viewed within the past five days is insane. The post-nut guilt hit him pretty hard at first, sending him into both a sex crazed and sex starved stupor but, the interest only heightened from there as he would eventually start searching up porn related to the exact thing he’s been offered. 
On the sixth night of contemplation, he peeks through his blinds at the house next door and notes the silence. He knows some wild things must happen in that bedroom and he wants to know what it is. Naturally, he starts searching up some keywords without really knowing what any of it entails. 
He watches cuckold video after cuckold video, feeling his opinions of fucking another man’s wife validated by the amount of people who seem to love it the way he wants to. Then, exhibitionism comes into play. He watches at least ten videos involving said kink, his cock growing so pathetically hard at the fact that this could be a reality if he wants. Then, voyeurism.
Good lord, that’s him. All of these videos, at least in the ten more he watches, he can easily put himself in the shoes of watching. Which only makes it more arousing when he lands on a video that is clearly scripted, but entirely too similar to what his kind neighbors offered. 
There, a man watches through his window, palming himself as a woman gets absolutely railed against her own window. The camera pans to and from both ends of the scenario, for five minutes he watches the woman get fucked from the man’s window view, and then for another five minutes, he watches the man pleasure himself from her view. 
He watches intently, weeping cock twitching each time he closes his eyes and realizes that if he wanted it, that could be him. He could be the stranger in his window watching his neighbors get eachother off, except Mingyu isn’t a stranger. 
He doesn’t even need to watch the video to imagine now. Thousands upon thousands of videos comfort him in the idea that yeah, maybe involving himself in a marriage that isn’t his own is okay. Seungcheol is a handsome guy, and pretty beefed up himself. Then there’s you, such a pretty fucking woman, walking around like you don’t like to get fucked by multiple people as your husband watches.
Goddamn, if there’s any couple he’d want to be involved with, it would be you and your husband. 
Okay, maybe he’s interested and maybe that interest plays out the next day. Or rather, the next evening. Another Friday night, when Seungcheol usually comes over to hang out except this time Mingyu doesn’t respond to his texts until much later. Out of both nervousness and his own mind games hyping himself up. 
If he’s gonna watch, he doesn’t want Seungcheol to see him a mere hour or two before it happens, at least. 
Now though, ten at night, he hyped up his cock the same way he hyped up his mentality. When he’s horny, it’s much easier for him to work up the courage to lay down his own hints, to show his own interest, and to play along with things he’s never delved into. 
Mingyu: Hey um 
Seungcheol: here I was thinking you were ignoring me or something
Mingyu: can i ask about something?
Hell yeah he can. 
Seungcheol: oh? you finally warmed up to the idea? 
Mingyu: i’m just curious. 
Seungcheol peeps out his own window to see Mingyu’s blinds very quickly close.
Seungcheol: why’d you back away from the window? 
Mingyu: i don’t know, i feel like a weirdo
Seungcheol: i invited you to watch me fuck my wife, Mingyu. 
No response.
There’s a few moments of silence on Seungcheol’s end as he turns to you and flicks his head to the window. 
“I’m ninety percent sure he wants me to fuck you in front of that window right now.” 
“Oh?” You perk up in interest, hopping up from the bed and running over to the window beside your husband and peeking out. “Open them up then. If he watches, he watches.”
Seungcheol nods, looking down at the silence of his text messages and smirking. You’re right, if Mingyu wants to watch, he will. 
And so, as you go make yourself up in the bathroom for a good first impression, Seungcheol is quick to work himself up now too. Given, the two of you were about to call it a night and simply sleep since the day was quite exhausting, this is a welcome change of events. After all, Seungcheol knows how you act when you’re both horny and exhausted. He’s sure Mingyu will love it if he works up the courage to just look.
After a few minutes more of silence from Mingyu’s message box, you make your way back into the room and stare at the window. 
“Is his bedroom lined up with ours?” You ask, quirking a brow. 
“I assume so, yeah.” Seungcheol shrugs, still palming against himself lazily to get ready to put on a show.
“Oh, this could be really fun.” You say, now moving toward the window and pulling at the curtains to move them completely from Mingyu’s presumed view. 
Seungcheol follows suit, raising the blinds so fast that the sound is almost laughable.
“Should I go ahead and take off my clothes, or?” You ask now, noting the way Mingyu’s blinds are still very much closed. 
“Put this on, tie it loosely and let it fall open for him.” Seungcheol smiles, handing you the silk robe you only ever wear when a third is joining you. 
“Oooh, perfect. Let him pine for it.” You laugh with a wiggle of your brows, stepping away from the window to completely undress and put on the robe. 
Seungcheol finally texts Mingyu again when you get yourself situated, right there in the view of his dark and silent home. 
Seungcheol: blinds are open, feel free to watch.
Thank god Mingyu has read receipts on, because right as Seungcheol goes to lock his phone and play with you, he notes that it’s been read and instantly glues himself against your back. 
“He read the messages, keep your eyes at his window, see if he watches.” Seungcheol whispers before snaking an arm around you and slipping it under your robe to instantly rub against your clit. 
You do exactly as he says, gluing your eyes to the window directly across from you as you slightly spread your legs and grip the windowsill. Seungcheol is good at this, always great with putting on a show too. You know for a fact that even if Mingyu doesn’t watch, you’re going to be seeing stars whenever your husband deems it appropriate. 
“You think he’s gonna do it?” You ask curiously, trying not to immediately lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers against your clit, or the hand he’s currently slipping through your robe to grope and squeeze your tits. 
“We can only hope, until then, just enjoy it.” Seungcheol smiles against your neck, kissing the back of it before resting his chin on your shoulder, trying to work you up to where you start to slowly lose your sanity like you always do. 
It works out perfectly for him, knowing that whether Mingyu watches or not, he’s going to make damn sure you’re taken care of. His fingers expertly slide up and down the delicate folds of your arousal, and his other hand pinches and rolls your nipple to the point that it’s swollen and sensitive. His kisses against your neck become peppered and gentle as he feels your legs start to shake a bit each time his fingers reach your clit again. 
You try to turn your head to look at him, but he laughs again. 
“No, keep your eyes on the window.” He says in a raspy whisper, pressing his barely clothed cock against your ass. Thankfully, he’s adjusted himself to where just the tip pokes out of his boxers and feeling the coolness of the silk robe offer a delicate sensation, it satiates his needs for now. “Feels good even like this, right?” He asks, sliding his fingers down to tease with your hole. 
You nod against him, breathing in deeply and turning to jelly against him. You love and hate the way he makes your body react. It’s hard to keep your eyes on that window across from you when you’re being offered sheer arousal right behind you. 
“Mm, you always get so wet when you know someone might be watching.” Your husband compliments you, dipping his fingers in before sliding them out again and running them up to swirl around your clit with more pressure than before. “God, you’re really soaking my fingers already babe, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on–”
You let out a small moan, frustrated that you want Seungcheol to be right. If only Mingyu would take the two of you up on the offer. If only he would actually glimpse even for a moment. You clench at the idea of those blinds opening, grinding harshly against Seungcheol’s hand with a desperate sort of sound. 
Right then, you see movement next door. Seungcheol can tell with the way your pussy grips his fingers tightly when he slides them back into you, and you let out a genuine and desperate moan. He flicks his eyes up, now noting the movement himself. 
The way you writhe your body at the mere confirmation that Mingyu is watching is insanely erotic to your husband. Whether it’s out of curiosity or if it’s out of arousal, it doesn't matter. He loves the way you get so turned on so fast, and with this being the situation, he’s not surprised that you seem more desperate than usual. Plus, the fact that those blinds stay parted shows that Mingyu likes what he’s seeing, and you couldn’t be more aroused by the thought of what he must be doing behind the veil of his own window-blinds. 
Seungcheol chuckles gently in your ear as you continue to lose your mind on his fingers, he can tell that now you’re moving to turn both him and Mingyu on, rather than just him like moments ago. You grind more, you whine more, you get increasingly more wet. 
And as you stare forward to the little space in Mingyu’s window where his eyes sit, you grow more and more frustrated with the way he doesn’t open the blinds up. You want to see him too, you need to see how he likes to touch himself. 
Seungcheol can tell through your frustrated moans that you need more, and like the doting husband he is, he offers a solution fairly quickly. 
“What’s wrong?” He coos, fucking his fingers in again at an angle, deepening them inside of you and holding your waist in place. “He’s not giving you what you want, is he?”
You nod brokenly, finally tearing your eyes from the window and shooting a pleading look to your husband, rolling your eyes back only slightly when his fingertips bump the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. 
“Use my phone, text him.” Seungcheol smiles, holding your waist in place tighter so he can fuck his fingers in at a harsher pace. You tremble in his grasp, unsure if you can even process the idea of texting right now. “Tell him to let you see him.”
You nod, smiling through the sensitivity of your g-spot being repeatedly assaulted, clearly on purpose, surely to have you going fucking feral. Reaching for the phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and read over the messages from before with Mingyu. His curiosity is hopefully strong enough to actually stick around for the next however long, because god, you want him to see you fall apart. 
Seungcheol: open your blinds, let me see
Mingyu watches you text as your body jerks with each hidden movement of Seungcheol’s hand under that robe, and when his phone goes off he almost panics. Almost. He drops his length and grabs his phone in one hand while using the other to keep the split of his blinds open enough to keep watching. Fighting the feeling of appearing like a damn stalker, despite his hips rubbing his achingly hard cock against the trim of the window. 
The way Seungcheol stares from behind you, the way you smirk through faces of pleasure at what he’s doing to you, at what he must be saying to you. Mingyu has never felt so fucking aroused watching someone have what he wants. The way you skew your head to listen to what your husband is saying, the way his hands move to places he can’t see. Arguably, you look like the most fuckable person on this planet at the moment and it’s incredibly difficult to not want to fuck something, anything, right now.
Mingyu knows he’s done for if he so much as grips his own cock by now. So quickly the thought of doing this made his pathetic cock weep against his briefs, and now, seeing it happen in real time just across the yard. Yeah, he could come within seconds if he doesn’t try to control it. Upon reading your text though, he finds himself following precise directions and opens the blinds for you to reveal himself. 
His face flushes seeing you in full without the blinds cutting off his peripheral vision. It kind of hits him differently realizing he’s in his own quiet bedroom fucking himself to the image of you propped up against the window for him. It’s embarrassing and he feels entirely pathetic when you look at him like this. Both so far away and so close at the same time. His senses are heightened tenfold the moment he sees you react. 
An accidental moan splills from his lips, the sound breaking the heavy silence of his home and echoing through the walls as if to tell whatever ghosts that live here that he definitely wants to fuck around with the married couple next door. Your attraction to him only heightens the confidence he holds within himself.
You, on the other hand, can feel your arousal drip out of you and onto your husband’s hand at seeing Mingyu coming into full view. Your hand grips at your husband’s, clumsily allowing yourself to feel the sheer force of how his fingers are plunging into you just at the right moment. You roll your head back briefly, basking in the pleasure of being fucked and watched.
“Don’t look away babe,” Seungcheol says, flicking his eyes to Mingyu. “He’s so hard.”
You weakly lift your head again, opening your darkened eyes and looking directly at the man through the window. His hair is a mess, fanning across his forehead, and he’s shirtless, revealing the abs you only assumed he had at first glance. His cock is heavy against his dark gray briefs, stretching the fabric out enough to tell you that, yeah, he is packing. 
You make eye contact with him, staring straight into his eyes as you press your ass back and against Seungcheol, who readily accepts the movement and presses his cock directly against you with a soft sigh of his own. 
“Already?” He whispers to you with an amused chuckle, stilling his fingers and dropping his other hand to toy at the tie of your robe, hopefully so it falls open naturally at a quicker pace now that you appear to be losing it. 
“Right now.” You respond in a desperate voice, hiking one leg up against the table off to the side and feeling your robe instantly fall open. 
Your eyes devour the image of Mingyu’s mouth falling open in what you can only assume is a moan at your naked body being revealed to him. Instantly, you shoot your hand to your chest and start toying with one of your nipples for him. Shooting a hungry gaze straight across the way and making obvious suggestions at him through it. 
Seungcheol from behind you is seemingly in his own little world when he shoves his boxers down and arches your back with his palm so that your ass lifts for him, instantly you can feel his cock between your legs. He takes a step back, pulling you with him and removing your leg from the table to position you in a way that if Mingyu looks hard enough, he can see the way his cock will slide beautifully between your thighs. 
“Not yet babe, let’s play first.” Seungcheol soothes you through the disappointed sigh of your leg being pulled down. You were so ready to start fucking immediately, but of course he wants to make a good first impression. “Hold your legs together.”
You listen perfectly, feeling Seungcheol’s cock slide easily between your thighs. 
“God, fuck–” He moans, feeling the wetness of you drip down onto his length as you squeeze your thighs together as tightly as possible. “He would go insane over you.”
“He already is,” You chuckle weakly, staring at the way Mingyu’s hand snakes under his briefs and tugs against himself. “I want to see it so bad.” 
“Mm, yeah, I bet you do.” Seungcheol responds mindlessly, loving the feeling your thighs offer to his desperate length. “Tell him then.”
Right then, Mingyu can see a mischievous little smile form across your lips as he struggles already not to release against his perfectly cleaned window. The way Seungcheol manhandles you is one thing, with his big hands gripping onto your flesh just to pound his cock between your legs– fuck. But, the way both of you stare straight at him is another. Mingyu might be obsessed with the way the two of you touch each other intentionally to get all three of you off. So badly does he want to be right there in the room, hearing you in his ear, watching Seungcheol kiss across your skin and massage your pretty sensitive pussy. One that he hasn’t entirely even gotten to see yet. 
Then, he jumps as his phone rings. 
From your end, you watch as he jumps out of surprise, glances at his phone, then back at you, shaking his head with a wince as he grips his cock again. 
“He’s not going to pick up.” You comment as the tightened squeeze of your thighs loosen up with disappointment. 
Seungcheol is instantly smiling, letting his cock fall from its place of stimulation and is pulling you back, back, back. Offering a full view of him falling back on the bed, with you falling with him. 
“Show him your pussy.” Seungcheol says, reaching around you to open your thighs as if you’re a grand prize for this little sex game of trying to seduce a broken hearted man.
Seungcheol knows he has an entire list of positions he could do to get Mingyu just as desperate as you get. Usually, presenting his wife’s pussy at another man is enough to have them making decisions they previously doubted. He hopes Mingyu reacts the same, because if he’s being totally honest with himself, saying no to you when you’re spread out like this is a fucking sin.
You stare at Mingyu when your husband spreads your legs, pussy pulsing around nothing more than the stare being directed at it. And there, sitting on Seungcheol’s hips with your back facing him, you easily hold your legs open and slide your fingers down to circle your clit. 
You stay like that for a moment, squinting to see Mingyu’s reaction and noting the way his hand fucks faster under the fabric of his briefs. You want him to go harder, so hard that he needs to take that last remaining bit of clothing off of him so that you can see. Thankfully, Seungcheol’s cock lies right below where your ass is sitting , and it’s easy to grasp it and hold it up against your folds. You grid against it gently before swirling your clit along the length of him, still staring at Mingyu with a smile. As if to tell him, “this could be you.”
The way Mingyu’s hand moves faster is one thing, the way he looks more unashamed now compared to when you first saw him in that window is another. The way his arms flex as he keeps his cock hidden beneath those briefs, jerking himself off desperately as if you can’t tell he’s struggling not to moan loud enough for you to hear even from here, it’s too fucking erotic. 
Never have you and your husband had a neighbor to play with like this. Typically, you’re being watched in the same room, this is something entirely different. This is insanely arousing and you can feel your pussy clench each time you’re reminded of how fucking sweet this deal could be.
“Play with yourself,” Seungcheol continues to instruct through a half-moan, feeling the way you rub his length against you as a form of masturbation. “I’ll call him again.” 
This time, you note how the phone rings once before Mingyu is fumbling to answer. You see the way his hand stills to put his focus on saying “hello?” as if he doesn’t know it’s you and your husband. As if the people calling him aren’t watching him fuck himself. 
Seungcheol starts immediately though, his words driving you insane enough to know Mingyu would have to react in a way that sends him over edge too.
“You wouldn’t believe how wet she is,” Your husband boasts without greeting him back, putting the phone on speaker and lying it next to the two of you. “I bet you would love to bury your tongue in her right now, wouldn’t you?”
Mingyu nearly stutters as he hears the words, staring at the way you hold Seungcheol’s cock right where you want it to grind against. It’s so much to be able to see and hear what’s happening, and it’s like something in his head clicks. He’s so fucking turned on that he feels like he’s going insane, so he puts his normal, level-minded self to rest. No room for embarrassment when his cock is already aching for the couple who seem to want him just as bad. 
“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu sighs out, lying his own phone down against the window sill and fucking his hips forward into his hand. His briefs now stretched out to the point that they truly are more of an issue than anything else right now. “I would, god, how wet?”
You moan at how desperate his voice sounds, now pressing your clit directly against the head of Seungcheol’s cock and deliberately making yourself moan from pleasure. When he flashes his cock to you though, fuck. Just barely he lowers his briefs, palm teasing himself in such a harsh way. He looks so pretty over there, all alone, watching someone else get to play with you like some kind of pervert. 
“That’s it,” You say, knowing he can hear you. “Let me see you.” 
Mingyu does, shoving his briefs down entirely now, allowing you to imprint the image of how thick and heavy his length is in your brain permanently. 
“I can already imagine how good it would feel to have you stretching me out,” You half-groan, now inching your husband’s cock straight to your hole and preparing to fuck the daylights out of him. “I knew you’d have a cock just as pretty as you.”
Seungcheol chuckles from behind you, entirely aroused by the way you talk to another man, a more shy man. He can tell how desperate you are by now too, especially with the way you toy with his cock as if you picked it up from a store shelf and it’s not attached to him. He loves it. And when he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to also see Mingyu, he smiles. 
Fucking both of you are totally gone. Even from here he can tell Mingyu is losing his mind over you. Thankfully, you deserve nothing less and Seungcheol couldn’t be happier to play off of the way you both seem to want each other terribly. 
“See this?” He says, snaking his hand around you to move his cock and spreading your pussy lips.”Can you not see how wet she is?”
Both of you can hear Mingyu’s muffled groan before you see it, his head falling forward against the window as he stares down at his hand and the way he fucks it. You’re entirely satisfied, because you know what he’s thinking. You can see how badly he wants it, and your husband does nothing but remind him of it. 
“Do you want me to fuck him?” You finally ask, pushing your own agenda and raising up on your knees to situate yourself right above Seungcheol’s length, where he takes over and holds it in place for you. 
Mingyu’s eyes shoot back to the two of you and he nods before breathing out a small “Yeah…”
He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but it could still be stage fright. Even if he isn’t the one on the damn stage. You can imagine he would get better at this if he accepts the invite of your open blinds on more than one occasion. 
Seungcheol chuckles again at him, the breathy tone of his voice is quite obvious to him. Mingyu is holding out, he doesn’t want to come too soon and end the fun.
“You heard him babe, ride me.” 
Instantly, you’re sinking down and feeling the harsh stretch of Seungcheol’s cock pulsing inside of you. Your drawn out moan rings in Mingyu’s mind as he watches the slow descent. Only now noting how big Seungcheol’s length is, and seeing how well you take it. He twitches in his palm, eyes nearly rolling back to escape the overwhelming arousal that floods his thoughts. 
Mingyu isn’t sure if either of you are aware, but he can hear how wet you are through the phone. When you slide down and start bouncing your ass, all while staring forward at him, he can hear it pour out of you. The slapping of your ass landing against Seungcheol is a beautiful sound, and he does his best not to moan through it and muffle those sounds out. 
He stares straight back at you, thinking hard enough at how he fucks the circle his fingers create. He’s losing his breath when he fucks his fist in time with the way you bounce, tuning into your face and imagining that he’s the one you’re riding. No offense to Seungcheol, it’s nearly like he doesn’t exist right now considering he’s almost entirely hidden by you. 
That doesn’t last too long though, because Seungcheol makes himself well known through his breathy words. Dirty talking in a way that somehow, Mingyu still finds himself shocked by it. The words turn him on, he can only imagine how you feel about. 
“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight. I bet you’d love to be spread out for both of us,” Seungcheol says at first, gripping your thighs and basking in the way you squeeze his length each time Mingyu does something to turn you on. “Don’t you think he would love to feel how you drip from this?”
Mingyu feels so shameless, and for some reason it feels okay. Your husband is dirty talking to you about him and it’s insanely sexy when he hears it. Already stuttering his hips in his palm, especially when he notes that Seungcheol moves his hands to your pussy and spreads it open again for him. Offering him the perfect view of his length sliding in and out of you. 
“Would love to see how this pussy gets filled up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Unsure of if Seungcheol is talking to you or to him at this point, Mingyu answers without thinking. 
“Fuck, fuck. Yeah–” Mingyu says with a cut-off groan, holding the base of his cock so tight he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t release yet, he has to keep going. 
You moan loudly at his breathed out answer, nodding your head frantically at the confirmation, answering for yourself shortly after. 
“You’d make me come so fast, Gyu, I know you’d know how to fuck me,” You start, not realizing the shortened version of the name you’d called out.
And then he moans brokenly through the phone which instantly has you leaning yourself back, and lying against Seungcheol’s chest. He falls back with you, holding you and once again and moving his fingers to your clit, his cock still pounding in at the perfect pace. 
“Fuck, she’s there–” Seungcheol grits out, feeling your orgasm wash over you and grip his cock insanely tightly. “Goddamn, feels so good babe, that’s right.”
Mingyu, watching and listening, instantly releases the grip on the base of his cock, staring straight at the way Seungcheol stuffs his length inside of you. The nickname you called him echoes in his head, and then he stutters out a broken sob as he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and just like him, you’re also listening. 
He must hold his breath when he’s close, or maybe he’s just way more shy than he appears to be, considering what he’s doing right now, but you don’t mind as you ride your own high. Ears popping shortly after when Seungcheol continues to chase his own pleasure within your dripping heat. 
Strangely enough, even Seungcheol is shocked at how fast he comes from this. Releasing a mere two seconds after you relaxed around him. You can feel him pulse inside of you as you lie against him, pussy still on full display, cum dripping out of you in a beautiful scene for Mingyu’s eyes to devour.
And devour, they do. Mingyu just stares, head spinning as he ignores the spurts of cum hitting his window and dripping down onto his carpet. His hand is also drenched in his own heat and he makes no attempt to move afterwards. Arguably, he’s still aroused by the image of the way your husband fills you up with his own seed, and the way you’re so full of his cock that it dribbles out and onto your thighs. 
God, he wants to lick you so bad. Even now, fully spent and his sober-mind coming back to him, he wants to taste you. 
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, breaking the silence with an out of breath voice. “You still watching?”
There’s another moment of paused silence.
“Yes– I am.” 
Seungcheol smiles, nuzzling his face against you and your neck as you continue to lean against him out of breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, once again spreading you open for Mingyu to see, allowing the rest of his cum to drip out of you. 
“Take a good look, because this pussy went fucking insane over you.” 
Mingyu does look. He has been looking. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing at the way his cock twitches with interest again, so fucking fast after having already been emptied. 
“I’ll be coming over tomorrow to discuss this.” Seungcheol adds nonchalantly, easily going from filth-talk to casual-talk. “Get some rest.” 
“Goodnight, Pretty boy,” You call out with a dazed smile, finally moving yourself off of Seungcheol and adjusting your robe back onto your shoulders. 
And right before Seungcheol hangs up the phone, both of you smile at each other at the way Mingyu lets out, in the tiniest voice for such a big man, a gentle little “Goodnight.” 
~
By morning, Mingyu nearly forgot Seungcheol said he was coming over. It wasn’t until the afternoon when he managed to get the image of you getting off out of his mind that he remembered there’s supposed to be a discussion about it. 
Embarrassment hits him harder than it ever has, thinking about what he was doing for both of you to see. It wasn’t just a show for him, he put one on for the two of you as well. 
When he makes his way back into his bedroom, he tries to ignore the fact that your blinds are still open, and there’s no one in the room. He pauses briefly, once again trapped in the on-going loop of what he saw happening on that very bed just the night before. 
It feels like he’s doomed when Seungcheol comes over. He could just not answer the door but it doesn’t change the fact that he lives right next door and he already came all over his window before your very eyes. Before Seungcheol’s very eyes. He’s already crossed the boundary into someone else’s marriage and despite loving the idea of it, it’s scary. It’s not something he’s ever considered doing before meeting the two of you, and now, he’s kind of just confused as to how all of this works. 
Like, it almost seems too sweet of a deal. You’re a beautiful couple, who is he to be able to watch what you do with your husband? What’s the catch? 
Well, he comes to find out that there isn’t much of a catch at all. Seungcheol shows up with a warm smile and a gift of wine. It felt welcoming but, insanely awkward with the way it’s the first time Mingyu has ever been offered a hug by him.
They hug. Seungcheol fucking hugs him to say hello with that expensive ass bottle of wine as if to say “nice cock, my wife loved it.” 
Seungcheol does pick up on the awkwardness though, stepping through Mingyu’s door and inviting himself in. After all, it’s only appropriate at this point. He keeps his smile though, loving the way you woke up in a good mood all thanks to Mingyu letting his curiosity get the best of him. 
“Don’t be like that,” Seungcheol says, glancing around the house and nodding in approval that it doesn’t appear to be entirely barren. He kind of expected the house to not feel like a home, because that’s usually what single men do. “You can back out anytime you want.”
Mingyu, somehow, feels eased by those words. His heart thumps against his chest at the thought of never doing it again though. Which is kind of weird to him. 
“Sorry, I just don’t really know how to act around you after that.”
Seungcheol offers him a warm smile again, seeing himself to the kitchen and opening the drawers. 
“We can talk about that,” He waves him off, still rummaging through a kitchen that isn’t his own. “You got a corkscrew?” 
Mingyu nods, trying to make his huge frame seem as small as possible by tip-toeing past his neighbor with the huge cock and opening one of the only drawers he didn’t get to. He pulls out the corkscrew and hands it to him, making no attempt to look into his eyes even for a second. 
“Oh my god, loosen up.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, shoving Mingyu by the shoulder playfully and heading back to the bottle of wine.
Mingyu feels slightly comforted by the fact that maybe he can loosen up with a bit of wine in his system, but getting to that point feels like it’s going to be hell. He’s never felt so embarrassed. 
“Sorry,” He responds in a small voice, grabbing two random cups and following Seungcheol. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect out of this whole thing, like,” 
Seungcheol cuts him off with a wave of his hand.
“That’s why I’m here to talk to you about it. Clearly this isn’t something you’ve done before, it’s not like we didn’t want you to get off or anything. You’ll come to learn that we enjoy this kind of thing.”
He pauses as he opens the bottle, shifting it to the side now to grab two cups and look at Mingyu. 
“If you end up not enjoying it, there’s always someone else we can find to take up the offer.”
Mingyu very nearly panics, hoping it doesn’t show plainly on his face as he takes over pouring the wine. Seungcheol picks up on people so easily, watching Mingyu shake his head slightly at the words and pour a suspiciously nervous amount of wine into both cups. 
“That’s the thing though,” Mingyu says, popping the cork back into the bottle and already taking a swig of his wine. “I did enjoy it.”
Seungcheol raises his brow, nodding his head in encouragement and grabbing his own cup before following Mingyu to his living room.
“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Let’s talk about it then.”
Mingyu knows it’s inevitable, and hopefully within the next hour, he won’t feel so cautious in talking about it.
~
“You know, usually I wouldn’t let her come so fast,” Seungcheol shrugs, standing to grab the bottle of wine and bring it into the living room. “I tend to try and get a few out of her but she just wasn’t going to let me. Did you see the way she grabbed it and sat on me? I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to.” 
The way Seungcheol talks loudly and comfortably about it is kind of soothing. Given, this is probably why they’re opting to hang out inside of the house rather than outside. This is a private matter, an intimate one, even. 
“She slept like a rock afterwards, and is now insisting we keep the blinds open at all times to view at your discretion.” 
Mingyu stutters a bit, scooting his cup towards Seungcheol and hoping he pours another generous amount into his cup. Already, since he doesn’t drink too often these days, he can feel the buzz and comfort settles within him as Seungcheol seemingly dotes on him. 
“What I’m trying to say is, our blinds are permanently open unless you’d rather not do this. Alternatively, the door is open too, but,” Seungcheol pauses so he can sip his drink. “You’re going to need to get tested first if you want that thing anywhere near my wife.”
Mingyu shifts slightly, squeezing his legs together uncomfortably as his wine bubbles in his belly. 
“I’ve already been tested. My ex cheated on me with god knows how many people, you think that wasn’t the first thing I did?”
“Smart man,” Seungcheol claps him on the shoulder, now leaning in a bit too close for comfort if Mingyu were still in his embarrassed mind-state. “We get that you’re shy about all of this, but I’ve gotta tell you, her pussy really did grip every single time you moaned.”
Mingyu’s eyes start to shine at the compliment, for some reason feeling like he’s on top of the world hearing that. 
“Felt like I was being strangled, honestly.” Seungcheol laughs before going quiet. “So, what do you think?”
Mingyu pauses, staring at his cup and then at his neighbor. 
“I, um–” He sighs out of frustration, wondering why he can’t articulate a damn sentence with confidence. “I liked watching, I guess. Not sure if I’m ready to just…”
“Come fuck my wife?” Seungcheol says playfully before immediately gripping Mingyu’s shoulder and laughing fondly at him. “Take your time. Like I said, the blinds are open and we have a pretty active sex life. I can imagine you’re going to wonder how I’m not milked dry yet.”
He already wonders that.
“But I do want to say, if you decide to actually come over and show her a good time, there are rules to that.” 
Mingyu quirks a brow, unsure of if his mind is running in a way that will let him take down mental notes. 
“First of all, she’s protected so as long as you can provide proof of your test you can come in her all you want, she likes that but, you’re not touching her ass.”
Mingyu nods, shrugging nonchalantly and surprised he even responded that way. 
“She likes it rough but she doesn’t know you enough yet. Don’t slap my wife, don’t grab her neck with the intention of choking her, and don’t call her any type of degrading name. Not yet, at least.”
Wow, his brain is actually taking down the mental notes perfectly. Even with these rules, he’s not entirely into hitting the person he wants to be inside of, not unless they ask anyway. 
“That’s it. Those are the rules.” Seungcheol says with a shrug, taking another drink and tapping his foot on the floor. “What about you? For possible future endeavors, what’re your terms?”
There’s a long pause. Mingyu is totally unprepared to make rules for a situation he’s never even been involved with before, but he does his best. 
“Well,” He breathes out, blowing a strand of his fringe up from his forehead in a huff. “I don’t know. Don’t put anything in my ass?”
“That’s no fun,” Seungcheol deadpans, then nods. “But fair, okay. What else?” 
Mingyu continues to let his eyes wander around his living room as he thinks of things he doesn’t like sexually. 
“I really don't know. I’ve mostly just had vanilla sex. I can tell you what I do like?” He admits, knowing that all of this is just in case.
“Alright, go on then.” Seungcheol nods, now topping off their drinks. 
It’s actually hilarious to him, hearing Mingyu list off the most mundane sex acts. He does his best not to chuckle at the mention of “blow jobs, I like those.” Instead, he offers something along with that, interrupting him.
“Ever been deep throated?” Seungcheol asks, watching Mingyu breathe in because it’s like he lost all of his breath trying to list off things he likes. “Like, you know, ever face-fucked?”
Mingyu nods, then shakes his head, then nods. 
“Define both of those. I mean, my ex never really let me hold her head in place, but I tried once. And don’t even get me started on the way she would refuse to continue if she gagged even once.”
Seungcheol shakes his head in pity.
“Man, you’re gonna love my wife.” 
~
Well, to put it lightly, Mingyu might, definitely, insanely, obsessively be in love with you. Not in like the “leave your husband” way but more in like the “i want you so bad and know that i’m allowed to have you if i’d just stop being a little bitch about it” way. 
It’s been another entire week since Seungcheol came over to discuss things with him and even more so now, is Mingyu’s mind in the gutters. He’s thankful he’s good at his job, almost able to do everything needed without much thought behind it because if that weren’t the case, he would probably be fired by now. 
Fired for being too horny at work isn’t something he ever considered would happen to himself, and though it hasn’t and probably won’t, he isn’t too shocked at this point to be learning more and more about these hidden little interests that only came to light when he met you and your husband. 
Those blinds do stay open, and that little bedside lamp in your bedroom has become one of his favorite things. One, because it illuminates the way your body moves when Seungcheol inevitably fucks you, two, because it’s actually a pretty nice lamp and he kind of wants one for his own bedroom. 
And god, his window. His poor fucking window. Four out of the seven nights since Seungcheol came over has he been standing right there, blinds open, getting himself off. He knows he’s a pervert by this point. He embraces it now, knowing for a fact that you’re also embracing it, and even Seungcheol is too. 
The embarrassment that hits him after each time he releases hurts much less than the post-nut guilt of all that porn he was watching before all of this happened. He’s not sure why, but there’s something inside of him that tells him it’s because he’s wanted. He’s being fawned over by an entire married couple and it makes his confidence go through the fucking roof. 
That second time he stood at his window, he was still unsure of it. But now, three more sessions later, he finds himself considering the offer of being in the room. Each time he thinks he should do it. You know, like release his cock mid-jerk off session just to run next door and barge into the room to bury himself inside of you, all while Seungcheol allows it to happen and praises him for manning up to do it. 
He hasn’t yet though, because most of the time he struggles to pull his eyes away from how fucking good the two of you look together. And you know, to him, when he thinks about actually being in that room with the two of you, there’s still some shame left in him about it. 
Something about the idea of joining a married couple despite how much he loves watching them, the idea of them asking him multiple times to work his body on you, the idea of them leaving their blinds open just so he can get off at his own volition. 
It’s such an insane fantasy come to life and the shame he feels about actually following through stays despite it wavering with each time he watches and listens in by calling you himself to hear you moan. 
Again, by now, an entire week later and several sessions of pure voyeurism, he questions that shame and wonders how much it’ll take to ignore it. Next time for sure he’s going to go over there. Next time, he’s going to put that shame to rest like he did the first time with simply watching. 
That next time doesn’t happen though, because you’re not wandering around your room naked for Mingyu to see when his alarm goes off. Because yeah, it’s kind of a ritual now to look out the window and nod a little “good morning” to you and your tits.
When he looks outside near the afternoon, both cars in your driveway are gone and it hits him over how fixated he is on the two of you. It feels almost empty seeing the two of you gone on a weekend, when Seungcheol is usually texting him to see if he wants to hang out. 
By this point for him, yes, come over please. 
Then, relief washes over him when he hears Seungcheol’s car pull into the driveway. The amount of pining within Mingyu at this moment is driving him insane. It’s only four in the afternoon by this point and his mind is reeling. Going miles a minute and honestly, he needs this overwhelming feeling to be eradicated. 
He needs to do it. 
~
Seungcheol is shocked as he sits eating his dinner to the sound of a knock at his door. He’s swift when he stands to his feet and answers it. 
“Oh, was gonna text you to hang out after dinner–” He pauses, realizing this is the first time Mingyu has ever been on his doorstep save for when he greeted them with a meal after he moved in. He eyes him up and down momentarily before smirking. “Well, well, well.” 
Mingyu doesn’t quite make eye contact as he stands there and shoves the proof of his tests into Seungcheol’s chest, already regretting the decision to come over without so much as texting. 
“Showing up looking like this, already hard too?” Seungcheol says snidely, glancing at the results and leaning himself against his door frame. His eyes stare directly at Mingyu’s obvious raging hard-on beneath his pants, then he glances up at his face. 
Mingyu appears to be both ashamed and proud, presenting himself like a damn virgin. 
“Relax, it’s cool. You can come in,” Seungcheol finally says, trying to ease the tension that seems to be festering within his friend. “I’ll call and see if she’s coming home tonight.”
Mingyu is fucking mortified. Of course he’s bad at timing. Of fucking course he shows up ready to fuck and you’re not even here. Now he’s just left standing just inside of the front door with a desperate and pathetic cock that, for some reason, still isn’t even going down. 
“She’s. not. here.” Mingyu says to himself loud enough for Seungcheol to throw a laugh at him, putting the phone up to his ear after pressing the call button.
“She went to see her parents. I bet the second I tell her you’re standing there like that, hot ‘n hard, she’ll be running red lights.” 
Mingyu is flushed. Entirely aroused by this whole situation despite the embarrassment. The last thing he needs to admit to right now though, is getting off on the shameful way he’s acting. He knows he looks desperate, and that…for some reason, makes him feel proud. 
He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even hear Seungcheol talk to you. Completely misses the way he says into the phone “hey babe, guess who is standing in our living room right now? he looks like he might cry.”
Totally misses the brief pause and then Seungcheol’s response of, “yeah, you might wanna rush.”
Luckily for him though, he’s so in his head that time flies as he tries to will his length to go down just a little bit. It’s frustrating, really, to only learn certain things as they happen to him, but like, damn. He really feels like he’s about to burst already, just standing here with a woman’s husband who is knowingly about to let him fuck her. 
“You’re not usually this quiet.” Seungcheol finally says to Mingyu, who is still just standing there in the living room. “Are you nervous?”
Mingyu instantly nods, throwing his hands in front of his hard-on and looking to Seungcheol. 
“This is the worst, actually,” Mingyu starts, shifting from one leg to the other and glancing away. “Fuck you guys for being so enticing.”
Seungcheol shrugs proudly, offering a smile and then nodding his head as if to invite Mingyu to sit on the couch. 
“She’ll be here soon, I’m just going to clean up. Don’t think too hard and take off running, she’s excited.”
Mingyu nods reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Jumping out a window sounds pretty nice but by this point he assumes every window he will ever touch probably has his cum on it by now. You know, association and stuff. 
Then, he hears a car pull up and he’s practically throwing himself to his feet. His balance turning him into a clumsy mess, totally forgetting how to navigate his large body and entirely losing the ability to know how to navigate this entire situation. 
The good news for him though, is that you practically jump out of your car and sprint for the door. Not even greeting Seungcheol when you rush inside and slip off your shoes. 
All Mingyu knows is that, one second he stands to his feet and gets a head rush, then he hears a door slam, Seungcheol letting out a breathy laugh, and then you slamming into him and practically knocking him back down onto the couch.
“All this time you made me watch? And now you show up when I’m at dinner with my parents.”  You playfully scold him, immediately straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands so that he can look at you. “You’re going to have to tie me up if you don’t want me to be all over you right now.”
Mingyu looks at Seungcheol with a stunned expression, receiving a simple shrug in response. 
“You want her to touch you?” He asks, heading for the bedroom and raising his voice to continue. “If not, I do have rope.”
Mingyu looks at you, still totally stunned by how fucking fast you got on top of him. He’s rendered more speechless than you’ve ever made him, and his cock twitches painfully from the sensitivity of you sitting on top of him. 
He nods politely, dipping his head and looking down. 
“You can touch me.” He whispers, only to be cut off by Seungcheol shouting from the bedroom.
“You guys gonna come into the bedroom, or?” He yells, peeking around the corner and shooting a look at you specifically, as if to remind you to pace yourself considering that Mingyu is entirely new to this and still seems like a deer in the headlights. 
You nod to Seungcheol and then lift Mingyu’s face back up to you again. 
“I can tell your heart is racing,” You say to him in a fond tone, tilting your head playfully. “It’s okay, come on.” You add, pulling yourself off of him and grabbing his hand.
He stares at the way you intertwine your fingers. Feeling like if he thinks hard enough, you’re not married and you’re more into him than just sex. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about that at all. The whole reason he’s so turned on is because this is considered strange to most people he knows. He doesn’t even want to be in love, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with any single person right now. What he wants is this. What he wants is to watch you through his window, and lust over you, and then get to have you. Time and time again. What he wants is for Seungcheol to always share you with him, because he can barely cross his own boundaries, better yet crossing someone else's. 
At least with him, you’d be safe. Seungcheol wouldn’t have to worry about broken rules or him coming into your home to take full control. This isn’t his relationship, it’s yours, and if the two of you want him involved even with just sex, he’s leaping for the opportunity at this point. 
There, he’s led into the bedroom where Seungcheol looks at him with a fond expression. Mingyu stares for a moment, then looks around the room. It feels like he’s been pining to be in this very room for ages, and knowing he’s standing here right now feels even more overwhelming. 
He glances at the window, looking through it into his own open blinds and the embarrassment hits him twice as hard, which obviously has his cock aching in arousal. He isn’t even ashamed of the little, breathy whimper of defeat he lets out at this moment, rolling his eyes back and furrowing his brows. 
You let go of Mingyu and take your place beside Seungcheol, both of you checking Mingyu out from head to toe before looking at each other and smiling. 
“I don’t even know where to start,” Seungcheol admits, feeling defeated that for the first time in his sex life with you, he doesn’t know how to get the ball rolling. “Why does this feel so intimate compared to usual?”
You laugh, now staring down both of them, wanting nothing more than to fuck and be fucked. The air in this room feels electrifying, and already you have goosebumps rising against your skin. It feels like heaven. 
“Probably because he’s so close to home,” You chuckle, feeling totally in control with two lost men staring at you as if they want to eat you alive. “Isn’t that right, Mingyu?” You say, taking a step towards him and already lifting your shirt off of you.
Just as quickly as Seungcheol loses his ability to be the one in control, he gains it back after seeing how confident you are. He knows for a fact how badly you want to be on Mingyu right now, and he has no qualms with that, but part of the fun is being able to present you until the third in the room is practically drooling. 
“Not too quickly,” Seungcheol warns, pulling you back by the arm and wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head down to kiss your neck and look Mingyu directly in the eye. “Watch him for a bit first.”
Mingyu feels so fucking seen right now, his cock still wildly twitching at each word and glance. He very nearly falls to his knees right then, because in all fairness he’s been rock hard all fucking day and intentionally held off so that he would be so out of his mind, that surely he’d fuck you as good as you need him to. 
“Cheol, I’ve been watching him.” You say, leaning against his warmth and devouring Mingyu with your eyes, “C’mere, Gyu.” You add, giving both men shortened versions of their names to show your adoration for them at this moment. 
Mingyu manages to take a step forward without his knees buckling from under him, his eyes scanning your bare torso and the way your chest is hidden by your bra. He can’t not stare, after all, he’s grown accustomed to it by now. He knows what's under that bra and what’s under those pants, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s never seen your body this close. He’s never touched you before. 
“Well?” Seungcheol looks at him as he makes his way across the room a bit too slowly for his liking. “We have all day, technically.”
Mingyu switches his eyes over to Seungcheol, who seems amused by how enamored he is right now with you. His mind is fairly blank right now, outside of thinking about everything he wants to do, everything he wishes he could say, but still, all he can manage to do is stand in front of you, still not reaching out. He looks at the way Seungcheol has you locked in his arms, holding you still against his chest as if to tame a beast from him. 
“You’re so pretty, Mingyu, really.” You say, blinking up at him and tapping Seungcheol to loosen his grip on you. “You can touch me too, you know.”
He’s still reluctant, looking to Seungcheol once again for confirmation and receiving a nod. His hands reach out, touching nothing more than your bare shoulder before sliding down your waist and stepping even closer. 
You can feel the warmth radiating off of them as they sandwich you there between them. Seungcheol and his confident breaths behind you easily contrast to Mingyu’s deeper, nervous breathing. You kind of get now why your husband told you to just watch for a little bit longer. Mingyu is so readable, with the way his eyes can’t find where to land, the way his hands know where they want to go but he clearly holds back from doing too much too soon out of fear that this entire agreement will shatter before his very eyes. 
You hum out happily, leaning your head back against Seungcheol and pressing your hips forward, against Mingyu. Feeling entirely loved, wanted, needed. 
“I missed this feeling,” You sigh out with a pleasured smile, throwing an arm out and over Mingyu’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. “I bet you’ll miss it too. I bet you’ll keep coming back for it.”
Seungcheol hums as well, nodding his head in agreement before blinking over at Mingyu and lifting a brow. He wonders how long they’re going to stand here staring at each other so, rolling his eyes dismissively, he presses on.
“I want to watch you eat her out.” He says, feeling that it’s not too out of the ordinary to make suggestions since Mingyu appears to be totally blinded by your tits right now anyway.
Mingyu nods with empty eyes, shortly before you see him physically break out of his presumed trance and take a step back, very nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Wait, really?” He asks, somehow still unsure that this is a thing that’s actually happening as he regains balance.
“Oh, absolutely.” Seungcheol encourages him, using the emptied up space in front of you to maneuver you over to the bed. 
Mingyu watches as your husband sits you down on the bed, grabs two pillows and places them behind you, then shimmies your pants off of you in a very loving way. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous of Seungcheol for being able to love someone enough to pleasure them using others or to be jealous of you for being loved so blatantly. 
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, tapping your legs to spread them out and taking a step back to make room. “Go on.”
Mingyu’s legs take him there before his brain can think twice. One second he’s looking at you from the angle of the center of the room, the next he’s falling to his knees, staring straight between your legs at the point of his lust for the last however long. Slender fingers gripping your thighs much the same way Seungcheol did the first night he saw the two of you together like this. 
It continues to hit him like a freight train. He’s here. He’s doing this. Not even a year ago he was sleeping in a different place, with a fiancée, making calls to find venues for a fucking wedding, and now he’s here. Between the legs of another man’s wife at his request. 
Why is he so pleased with the drastic change of events? Why is his mouth watering looking at the small damp spot seeping through your panties? Why does he feel like he isn’t even himself at this moment? 
None of it matters, not when you reach out and run your fingers through his hair to urge him forward. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose because it’s been a long time since he felt the loving touch of another person in his hair like this. 
It’s been a long time since he’s felt the warmth of a woman in front of him, and even longer since he last felt this drunk on the atmosphere around him. Your soft fingers scratch against his scalp, and that alone makes his entire body shiver as he nuzzles against your thigh lovingly, leaving his kiss against your skin for the first time. 
Seungcheol watches, not entirely used to a man acting like this with his wife. Usually, they’re already trying to get their cock inside of her, but Mingyu seems to be basking in the touch and feel of it all through each step and in a way, he understands. He was with someone for six years and planned to spend his life with her, he can imagine this is something Mingyu missed doing, despite the bitch not even wanting to gag on him. 
He feels fond watching the two of you, situating himself on the bed and letting you lean up against him. There, he starts to work your bra off of you, matching Mingyu’s slowly paced arousal. 
You, on the other hand, feel like your body is catching fire. That little gentle kiss against your thigh was followed by several more, peppered up to your panty line, down to your knees, and then right back up before he even thinks about leaving a kiss against the seat of your panties. 
Which, he does eventually get to doing. Seungcheol watches your body jolt at the touch. He can tell you’ve been anticipating it since Mingyu got on his knees but knows you’re both pacing yourselves for the sake of him being able to enjoy himself. 
Seungcheol’s hands do remain on your tits through it, massaging and pinching against your nipples until they’re erect and sending jolts of sensations straight to your core. Thankfully, Mingyu appears to be preparing himself to see your arousal up close and personal by this point, keeping his lips right up against it as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. 
He looks up at you, still searching for confirmation on instinct and can’t help but feel that the green light was given the second he moved into the house next door with the way you both look at him. 
You’re not the only one being loved on right now. He feels entirely taken care of simply for being able to go down on you, and he wants nothing more in this world than to make you feel good. 
So, he does his best. Reaching his arms forward and gripping the sides of your panties before gently pulling them down. He watches as your, by now very wet, panties unstick from your folds as he reveals it to himself and honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point at how he blatantly moans over it. 
And just as you thought he was going to take his time like before, it’s like your entire world is flipped upside down. You take in a sharp and surprised inhale at the way he’s got his tongue on you the second your panties hit the floor. 
Seungcheol laughs at your surprise, internally praising Mingyu for that sudden jolt of confidence he must have gotten to do that after unintentionally teasing you for far too long. He can feel your nipples react to what he’s doing, and through the sound of Mingyu’s tongue, his groans through the taste of you, even he feels like he’s going insane just sitting with you against him like this. 
“Fuck,” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue leaves no part of your pussy unexplored. “Fuck.” You continue, totally speechless and unable to praise him the way you’d very much like to right now. 
  When you run your fingers through his hair again, feeling the way he moves his head beneath them he stiffens his tongue as he slides it up your entire pussy, then lands on your clit and begins to flick his tongue at such a pace that your legs nearly close in on him.
Seungcheol is there though, quickly reaching down to hold your legs open for him. 
“Sensitive?” He gleefully whispers to you, watching the way you grip Mingyu’s hair in your fingers through the obvious struggle. He knows you won’t answer, which is fine, because he loves when you get like this. Though it’s never through a man simply giving you some good head. 
Mingyu continues his assault with his tongue, so drunk on the taste of you that all he can do is keep going. Keep tasting, flicking your clit until it’s swollen before sliding back down again and burying his tongue inside of you as deep as it’ll go. Like he can’t get enough, especially with the way your hips wiggle to get away, with the way your fingers try to weakly tug his head away from you.
He hopes this is exactly what Seungcheol wanted to see, because he couldn’t be happier to fulfill the request. Moaning into you only to breathe nothing but you back in. His cock still neglected from a full day of arousal, tasting you alone is soaking his pants. Never has he felt so desperate for something. Never.
Even when he can feel the bed shift and your legs close around his head again, he continues. 
“Hold her legs open for me,” Seungcheol instructs as he pulls himself off of the bed, now seemingly so aroused that he feels the need to involve himself. He shimmies off his clothing and props himself back up on the bed, directly next to you and easily holding his length to bump against your slacked and moaning mouth. 
You readily accept your husband’s length into your mouth. Instantly taking him as deeply as you can out of sheer arousal. Wanting to do the dirtiest things your brain can come up with solely because of how good everything feels right now. Seungcheol loves it, especially with how greedy you seem as you furrow your brows and will yourself to take more into your mouth. 
“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, reaching over to tap his hand that’s putting his obvious strength to use against your thighs to get his attention. “Look.”
Mingyu does, after sliding his tongue back up and flicking your clit several more times to get those satisfying shakes of your body in reaction. His eyes trail up as he finally takes a breath of fresh air, only now realizing that you’re both entirely naked. 
“If you keep coming back,” Seungcheol starts, moving his hand to caress your cheek before holding the back of your head in place. “this” he punctuated with a hard thrust into your mouth, gagging you. “is what you have to look forward to.”
Mingyu watches as Seungcheol holds your head there, continuously gagging, and then he glances down to your pussy and goddamn. You’re clenching around nothing each time you gag, and the moans you’re letting out along with your gags sends him over edge. His tongue is immediately back on you, satiating that clench with his tongue as best he can. 
The sound of Seungcheol’s ever expected fond reactions goes unnoticed by Mingyu as he puts his entire fucking soul into eating you out. 
Thankfully, you’re able to breathe shortly after, kind of. Save for the fact that when Mingyu’s isn’t knocking the breath out of you, Seungcheol is stealing it by blocking your airways with his length and moaning all the same.
The entire room sounds so erotic, and everything still feels like it’s on fire. Your sensitivity subsides as your focus falls to pleasing your husband, leading your hips to chase Mingyu’s hungry tongue anywhere it goes. 
It stays like this for a few minutes, all three of you seemingly lost in each other before you feel your husband lean over, allowing you to take care of his length without his help and sliding them straight to where Mingyu’s tongue is.
There, he easily slides in two fingers, and still, Mingyu doesn’t stop. It doesn’t phase him one bit. His tongue continues, working around Seungcheol’s fingers and sometimes even licking around them to taste the arousal that seeps from deep inside of you. By now though, he’s humping up, wanting more, more, more. Your hips chase his tongue and your husband’s fingers the same way his hips chase nothing.
Seungcheol only likes him more by this point. Even the times they have been with curious men, typically they’re not licking your pussy and his fingers. Mingyu is so peculiar about this, and arguably his lack of experience is what’s making this feel so fucking magical. His attention doesn’t appear to be divided between the both of you, nor does it even appear to be solely on you like he thinks it is. 
He’s treating you both as if you’re one person, one soul, and appears to accept anything either of you offer as long as you feel good and Seungcheol is satisfied with how things are going. 
Never has their bedroom been this silent of words either, especially when someone else is involved. There’s always crude words, but at this point all three of you seem to understand that you’re experiencing rather than trying to put on a show. You’re not competing, you’re not rushing for the finish line, you’re just, fucking, existing within pleasure.
“He’s a natural.” Seungcheol compliments, sliding his fingers up and out of you, feeling Mingyu’s tongue graze against the entire length of one of them and moaning loudly at the warmth and taste. “Wonder what else he can do?” 
You smile when you pull off of Seungcheol’s, now leaking, cock and look down at Mingyu. He’s already looking up at you, lips glistening much like his eyes are as he plants more kisses up your body. Solely because Seungcheol practically hides your entire pussy from him as a hint to move his hungry assault elsewhere. 
He does, happily. He’s satisfied even as he kisses up your belly and feels like he doesn’t need to ask to plant those same glistening lips against one of your nipples and fondle it with his tongue just as beautifully as he did with your clit.
He leaves space for Seungcheol’s hand when he moves up, trying to be careful to avoid his hard on brushing against anywhere where it’s not wanted, which doesn’t seem to be much of an issue because Seungcheol pulls his hand back shortly anyway, pulling off of the bed and studying the two of you. 
You hug Mingyu’s head while he worships the chest he’s stared at from his window day after day. Seungcheol can clearly see how shy Mingyu is, but he still seems to be doing everything in a way that makes you both love it. At this point, it wouldn’t even matter what he does, he knows you’d go insane over it, and that’s enough for him to allow it. 
He can’t help himself when he leans over you to kiss you, seemingly so in love with you, careful not to accidentally bump Mingyu’s head from your tit and probably cause some sort of huff or pout out of him. 
“Lay him back.” Seungcheol says to you through his kiss, pinching your chin to keep your lips on his for a few moments longer before letting you go. 
The way your eyes shine, and the way Mingyu’s tongue seems to never tire, you’re almost sad to pull him off of you. But you do, nonetheless, guiding him to stand to his feet and finally running your hands up his torso to urge his shirt off of him. 
You stare at his abdomen, touching and feeling each dip of it. His arms are just as big and toned, and god damn is his cock huge. You could tell from the window, and you can tell here, even while it’s clothed. 
“Off.” You say, tugging him forward by his jeans and sitting yourself up.
He laughs at the movement, looking between the two of you and honestly, damn. You’re both so fucking beautiful right now. He’d be delighted to take these pants off, and he does.
Shortly after, you instruct him to lay back on the bed and he’s only getting more and more comfortable with the situation. Doing exactly as instructed, not even embarrassed by his angry and heavy cock twitching in near pain to be touched. 
“God, look at him.” You comment, now moving yourself on the bed to lean on one elbow and trail your fingers up his abs. 
His entire body twitches at the touch, and he winces just a little bit with a sexually frustrated huff. 
“Should I fuck him?” You ask, looking up at Seungcheol, who was actively already fisting his length shamelessly at all of the ideas he has in his head that you could to do Mingyu, or of what Mingyu could do to you. 
“Do you want that?” Seungcheol asks, looking over to Mingyu and watching the way he straight up nods shamelessly and practically grabs you by the arm to pull you on top of him.
“So eager,” You laugh, throwing your leg over him and instantly seating yourself directly on his cock. Feeling how huge it is, how hard it is. 
Mingyu moans at that alone, hands shooting to your waist and squeezing so hard that you know it’ll leave a painful sensation later. 
“Go on then, fuck him.” Seungcheol says, amused with how badly this man wants it. 
And you do, without much more of a warning. You lift yourself and expertly slide straight down on his pathetic cock. You watch Mingyu as you do it, struggling to breathe through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his length and attempting to adjust to his size.
Mingyu runs his own fingers through his hair now, trying to keep himself grounded by the feeling he’s missed out on for so fucking long. He lets out a long and drawn out moan, cursing at the feeling and nearly tearing up at how fucking tight you are. 
“Shit-” Mingyu breathes out, holding your waist still as if to keep you from moving, then he’s wrapping you in a hug and pulling you straight down against his chest. 
Seungcheol skews his head, taking a step closer to see how well his friend fits inside of you and damn. Your pussy is clenching every passing second trying to adjust, and Mingyu's entire body is reacting to it. Naturally, Seungcheol has no choice but to grip his cock harder at the scene, biting back his own desperate moan so that he can still appear to be collected about this. 
As you lay in Mingyu’s arms though, with the harsh hold of his arms keeping you in place, you can’t help but groan at the searing stretch inside of you. And he, on the other hand, is being driven crazy by the smell of your hair. Honestly, the scent alone is driving him wild enough that it’s a struggle to keep his own hips from writhing with the need to stretch your pussy out more.
“Keep him still while you make room for me.” Seungcheol finally chokes out. “Don’t let him come yet.”
You breathlessly nod, trying to press yourself up from Mingyu’s heaving chest just to grip onto his shoulders and bounce against his desperate attempts to stop you. He gives in after the second bounce though, going from trying to hold you down on him to loosening up and almost helping you bounce.
“That’s it, that’s exactly what she wants–” Seungcheol compliments, running his fingers up your back and making you shiver. “Right, babe?” 
You try to answer, but you moan out instead with the way Mingyu’s hands keep you bouncing at such a pace that your g-spot is being repeatedly fucked against. And when he moves his hands to your ass, he loses himself to the pleasure as his eyes darken even more, fucking up now, deeper into you when you slide down on him. 
“So deep,” You nearly sob out, hands reaching out for Seungcheol somewhere behind you, and he’s quick to be there for you. 
“Feels good?” He asks, leaning onto the bed to kiss against your face. “You moan so good for him, I know it does.”
Mingyu moans before you can, sinking his head further into the pillows and letting himself get lost in the feeling of you bouncing on him. Seungcheol was right about this before, you do get wet. Fucking soaked. 
“Ready for more?” Seungcheol asks now, seemingly ready to give you more than either of you know you can handle.
Still, you nod, knowing exactly what he’s wanting to do. You adjust the way you bounce, now leaning back onto Mingyu’s chest so that Mingyu’s cock slamming into you is on full display for Seungcheol. 
“Slow down for a second, Gyu,” Seungcheol says, liking the nickname well enough to use it himself. “Let me show you what sharing feels like.”
And holy fuck, Mingyu is not prepared for it. He’s shocked that you’re wanting it, with the way you pant out breathless, pained moans against his collar bone as Seungcheol makes attempts to stretch you out more than you already are. 
Mingyu holds onto those little pants, feeling your hands grip against his body as your husband nudges the head of his cock inside, causing both of you to cry out with a desperate sound. 
Inch by inch, Seungcheol works himself in, holding his breath and soothing your back throughout the process, up until he’s managed to fit about as much as he can into you and thrusting forward just once to test the waters. 
“Goddamn, such a tight fit.” He half-moans through a laugh, pulling out and thrusting in again, harder. 
The reaction is more than Seungcheol could ever have wanted. Both of you, clinging to each other through the overwhelming sensation. Mingyu, probably overly sensitive from the feeling of your pussy gripping him and Seungcheol’s cock massaging the underside of it as he chases his own pleasure. Then there’s you, constantly clenching to adjust, letting out little pleased cries that only get prettier and prettier, especially when they’re mixed in with Mingyus. 
At this point, Seungcheol can barely tell which one of you is moaning, but it’s all the same to him and he begins to do the work for all three of you. Loving the way he’s managed to make his wife and another man fall apart beneath him. 
“God, you both love it.” He says, knowing for a fact that you’re both too gone by now to hear him. Which is good, because he can’t hold his own moans in anymore. 
So, he doesn’t. He grips your hips to hold you in place and continues to thrust, feeling your pussy relax with each thrust until even Mingyu is able to fuck up slightly. And for you, feeling both cocks sliding into you opposite of each other, you really can’t comprehend a single thing outside of pleasure right now. 
You can hardly breathe, so talking isn’t entirely on your agenda, still though. You try. 
“Fuck, fuck–” You breathe out, gripping even tighter onto Mingyu now.
“So fucking wet,” Seungcheol soothes, offering a harsher thrust now that he’s beginning to lose himself to the feeling too.
“So fucking, big–” You say, mostly into Mingyu’s ear despite your husband having a good size as well. “Fuck me open, pretty boy, show my husband how you like to come.”
Seungcheol smirks at your hushed and out-of-breath words, you always get dirty when you’re super turned on. Plus, the way Mingyu follows instructions is insanely sexy too.
In fact, he follows your instructions a little too well. Somehow, Mingyu overpowers both your weight on him and Seungcheol’s harsh thrusts. To the point that he actually has to stop moving his own hips because if he doesn’t, Mingyu will get all three of you off within seconds if he keeps going at this pace.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Seungcheol moans in probably the most erotic voice you’ve ever heard come from him before. Because, never in your life alongside him have you heard him have to cut off his comments with a moan. “he likes it fucking rough.”
And he’s not lying. Part of you wonders if Mingyu has ever been able to fuck this way, because even as you and your husband manage to find room to converse through this, Mingyu is still gone and lost in his own world. Still holding onto you, and still fucking into you so hard that you’re very nearly releasing little yelps each time he bottoms out. 
Seungcheol, on the other hand, knows exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting close. Usually knowing before you do, and he really does his best to keep his composure through this. He does his damndest to hold off, amazed that Mingyu lasted past the first instance of you sinking down on him. 
Shaking hands reach between you and Mingyu, and you’re quick to sit up and lean back against Seungcheol instead to let him have access to your clit. Despite his cock slipping out of you slightly, he can still manage to fuck a few inches in at this angle, and honestly it’s a welcome relief because if he continued any further, he worries your clit would be left long neglected by his brain malfunctioning in a sudden orgasm.
You smile in a daze as you stare down at Mingyu, his eyes droopy and hooded when he opens them, but for the most part remaining closed and focused on fucking you as good as he can. And paired with the sensation of Seungcheol rubbing your clit, you’re rendered useless in announcing that you’re close. 
Thankfully, your lovely, amazing, and doting husband knows you as well as you know yourself. 
“Keep going,” He says, out of breath and reaching his other hand up to hold one of your tits in his hand, lips going to your neck. “She’s close.”
Mingyu lets out a choked moan at the same time you let one out, and instantly Seungcheol pulls out with a pleased and frustrated moan. 
“Let him feel it, babe,” Seungcheol says, now focusing solely on rubbing your clit with one hand and fucking his fist with the other. ”Squeeze him.”
God, you do, coming undone wrapped around his Mingyu’s relentless cock, pulsing and shaking as Seungcheol makes no attempt to ease the orgasm out of you. His fingers only circle your clit harder, and Mingyu only fucks up harder. 
“Fuck, Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, watching the man in awe. “How are you holding out right now?”
Mingyu blinks up, his eyes totally lost to arousal and he continues to fuck into you far past your orgasm ending, loving the slide of how much wetter you got through it. He feels like he’s fucking half a year’s worth of himself into you, which is fair. Because he definitely is. 
“Look at him babe, tell him it’s okay.” Seungcheol continues, wanting Mingyu to get off so that he can stop holding off on his own. It’s entirely insane how much self-control this man has.
Not even Seungcheol himself could withstand this without losing a bit of self control, and yet, god. He really is the perfect third. The perfect neighbor. 
This is an indication that Seungcheol is about to go full cuckold and work at himself as you take what you want from Mingyu, and you really do try. 
Your legs shake around him as you continue to try and ride him, leaning down to hover over his lips in a faux first kiss to tell him to rest his hips, and he does, sighing out a little sound of relief as you take back the control.
He’s never been so fucking turned on in his life, and in all honestly, not even he knows how he hasn’t gotten off yet. He’s needed it all day. He’s needed it all his fucking life, it seems. 
Seungcheol studies the way your tired legs work, the pace slowing down minute by minute before he steps in. His control now fully regained as his orgasm fades and he can continue to instruct and enjoy without a wall of pure sex invading his actions. He releases his cock now, stilling your hips and pulling you off of Mingyu.
The sound alone is somehow filthier than any porn he’s ever heard. Sloppy and wet, paired with Mingyu’s frustrated groan at the loss of warmth. 
“Gyu, take the lead.” Seungcheol says, helping you to lay back and rubbing your thighs to soothe them. 
Mingyu, of course, jumps into action immediately. Lifting from his spot and situating himself between your legs with ease. Now being able to see you under him, rather than hovering above him, he feels like he has all the power in the world to treat you right. 
“Anything you want,” He says, already adjusting himself with your pussy and pressing in. “Anything, just tell me.”
You’re entirely endeared by his words and can’t help it when you pull him down in a huff and connect your lips to his for the first time. He melts into it, fucking his hips into you at a slower pace now, deeper, more lazily. 
He’s smelling you and feeling you entirely, every sensation in the world he could ever want is being satiated right now, and he’s not ashamed to whine through it. Pumping himself into you until it hits him. 
So hard does it hit him, each thrust milking him entirely of his cum and not trembling once through it. His cock has been sensitive all day, this new sensitivity is welcome to him as long as you continue to lick into his mouth and scratch against his back like this. 
It’s a given that he was a goner the second he got on top, and when he finally empties the last, impossible amount of cum into you, his ears pop and begin to ring. 
“You guys look so cute–” Seungcheol coos, helping Mingyu out of you on wobbly legs before he leans down to scoop some of the mess out of you. “Now, you lay back too,” he adds, still toying with the cum dripping from you. 
He does, relieved and thankful for the rest after that exhausting experience. He’s out of breath when he flops himself down next to you, turning his head slightly to look at you and how content you seem to be. It makes him feel content too, even without your lips against his. 
There, Seungcheol scoops some of that cum out of you and slathers his fingers with it, shuffling forward onto the bed to place himself between your legs now. Then, his fingers make their way over to Mingyu. 
“Taste it.” He says, wondering if Mingyu will fight the idea of doing it. 
Shockingly, he doesn’t. He opens his mouth with ease and sucks Seungcheol’s fingers into his mouth. You watch, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the taste of himself mixed with you. You groan out, throat dry from the embarrassing amount of moaning before wiggling your hips. 
“Patience, babe,” Seungcheol says, not even glancing at you and keeping his eyes trained on the way Mingyu eagerly licks his fingers clean before releasing his fingers and blinking over to you, and then up at him.
“You’re both going to fucking kill me.” Seungcheol lets out, rolling his eyes before training them on you. “Gonna stuff this mess back into you, yeah?”
You nod obediently.
You’re so content, readily accepting your husband in his rightful place and basking in the familiar feeling of his length pressing inside of you. It’s a feeling you know, and a feeling you love despite having already been fucked open by both of them already. 
At this point, it’s not even just arousal in the air. But like, a weird secret second thing that somehow feels more content than content. 
Seungcheol is in love with the way you look right now though, arguably so for Mingyu too. With his fucked out face looking just as drowsy as yours does despite the sun setting when all of this started. It’s not as late into the night as it seems to feel, which is fine because time seems like it works differently at this moment. 
“Kiss her,” Seungcheol says, with a last gift to Mingyu for fucking you so well. “Thank her.”
He does, because of course he does. He dips in so fast, cradling your face in the same delicate way he touched your thighs from before. Kissing you just as gently, all while Seungcheol takes his time to slide into you with such a fulfilling pace that, honestly, if you will it hard enough, you could probably get off another three times if you wanted to.
But you don’t, putting that filthy side of you to rest as you allow your husband to take what he needs. His pace quickening much like Mingyu’s kisses do, up until you’re bouncing up with each thrust of his hips, and Mingyu is left chasing your lips. Up, down, up, down. 
He chuckles into it, his teeth catching your bottom lip a few times before chasing your lips harder, all for Seungcheol to admire from above. 
And admire it, he does. Loving the way you kiss Mingyu in a playful way compared to himself. There’s passion here, and it makes it all the more easy for him to work himself up to his own orgasm. 
You’re not shocked at Seungcheol’s silence through his own high. Pressing his hips so tightly against yours, trying to bury himself as deeply as he can go to release all of this tension inside of his body. You still feel as full as you did when they both were inside of you, but this is something entirely different. It’s Seungcheol, and it still shows that he’s the one person on this Earth who knows you better than you know yourself.
He knows you love to feel his cock pulse inside of you, know your love when it dribbles down your thighs as you wobble to the bathroom, and now apparently, he knows you seem to love kissing Mingyu through the entire experience. Clenching against his orgasm as if you were already willing to start over from the beginning. 
And just like that, he pulls out and lays on the other side of you, stealing your lips from Mingyu briefly and kissing you. Both out of appreciation and love.
~
The clean up was devastating. Poor fucking Mingyu, never realizing that aftercare is like, a huge important factor to fucking that hard. Which only solidifies it to both you and your husband that he’s clearly never been given the sexual freedom he so needed.
The two of you exchange side eyes at the way Mingyu expects to shower alone and take care of himself, despite walking straight into a wall on wobbly legs with sleepy, mostly closed eyes. 
You help him to the shower, Seungcheol allowing you to join him and clean him up as he sits just outside and waits to ultimately clean himself up this time. After all, Mingyu was the one who fucked you senseless this time, the least he can do is learn how to clean up the mess and soothe your muscles. 
Fortunately, he seems to be pleased to learn and eager to put his new knowledge to use. Standing there under the warm water with a blissed out little smile, hands gently caressing your core as if to soothe your sensitivity. Obviously, it doesn’t work that way but, you still give him credit for it.
By the time you’re done showering, Mingyu is practically dead weight. Literally fucked himself to sleep, it seems, as Seungcheol laughs out and nods to the guest room, which he already made up for him. 
You help him to the room while Seungcheol helps himself to shower, where puddles of water remain on the floor. 
Apparently you and Mingyu both share the trait of not using a towel to step on after a shower. Which is only more of a reason to like him. 
Seungcheol likes taking care of people. 
~
When Mingyu wakes up the next morning, sunlight blaring through closed blinds, his half asleep brain realizes very quickly what happened. 
He’s embarrassed again, but the content feeling in his chest replaced the heavy one he had been holding about the entire situation. He had fun. He liked it. No, he loved it. So much so that for the first time in his life, he’s needed to pass the fuck out immediately after. 
And it’s not long after he wakes up, lying there in thought, that he hears a soft knock at the door.
You’re poking your head in, blinking over at him and admiring his sleep hair. Which isn’t too different compared to his sex hair, and you smile.
“Good morning,” You say, stepping into the room and revealing Seungcheol close behind you. “Wanna go again?”
Mingyu dead pans at both of you. You’re both fucking insane.
2K notes · View notes
zepskies · 2 months
Text
Take Me Home - Part 1
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)
Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.
Word Count: 4,400
Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 1: All of Her Days
“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.
Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.
Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.
“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”
“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.
“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.
Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.
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“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.
The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone. 
Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.
“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”
Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”
At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”
Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.
“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.
“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”
“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”
Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.
“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”
Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.
You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.
Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.
“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.
You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”
“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.
You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.
Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.
“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”
You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”
You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…
What you all had been through.
You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.
“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”
“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”
Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.
She huffed and kept walking.
You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.
You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.
“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.
“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”
You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.
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“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.
After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).
But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.
“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.
Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.
In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.
You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.
So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.
“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.
Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.
“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”
Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.
Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”
You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.
“Real mature,” she shot back.
“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”
Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.
Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.
You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.
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Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.
He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.
But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?
After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.
“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.
“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”
Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.
“Wait, what?” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.
“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.
“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.
But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.
Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.
Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.
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While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.
You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.
You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.
Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete. 
“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”
“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.
“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.
“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.
“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.
“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”
You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”
“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.
Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.
“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.
Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.
“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”
I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?
“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”
“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”
Your smile brightened. Right on the money.
“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.
“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”
“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”
“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”
You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.
“Not well,” you admitted.
Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.
“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”
You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?
It made you blush in earnest.
“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.
“Hey,” someone called out.
Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.
“You ready to go?” she asked.
“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”
“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”
You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.
“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.  
“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.
“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.
“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.
“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.
“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”
You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”
You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.
Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.
“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.
“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”
You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.
“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.
Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”
Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness. 
“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.
Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.
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That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.
“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.
You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.
“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.
“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.
“Are you an artist?” she asked.
You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”
You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.
But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.
“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”
“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.
Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.
“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.
Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”
“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”
“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”
You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”
You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”
In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.
But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.
You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.
“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.
“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.
“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.
“Why?” Emily asked.
Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.
“Uh, sorry,” she said.
You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”
“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.
You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.
Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.
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Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.
“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.
“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”
“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”
You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”
She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.
“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.
“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”
You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.
“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”
“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.
“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”
Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.
“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”
Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.
If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.
You were moving to Montana, permanently.
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On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.
A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now. 
And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.
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AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰
And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓
Next Time:
The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.
“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.
Now you were lost.
You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.
Shiiiit. This was very bad.
You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2
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gators-aid · 8 days
Text
decode (pt. 5) - toji f. x reader
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masterlist
part four | part six
you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.
tags: fem!reader, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(
wc: 2.9k
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Present
“Please make your decision quickly. I think the fuckin’ cops are looking for me.” He says. His voice sounds deeper than you remembered. You thought you had imagined it in the diner, or that his change in tone was a consequence of his anger toward his brother, but there was no denying it here. You glaze over that comment about law enforcement apparently searching for him.
He was leaning slightly out the window of his truck, etching toward you so that you could hear him over the sound of the surrounding traffic. You feel Megumi tug on your jacket, so you look down at where he’s tucked in. 
You always knew he looked just like his father, your mind tormented you with that fact every waking moment, but it was hitting you now. Here you had the framework to sit and compare their faces from more than memory alone. 
Needless to say, all of the pictures you had of Toji had been destroyed after you found out he left town. All of the clothes he had given you or left in your room had been donated when you moved out of your mother’s house. You had no physical reminders of his existence aside from the child the two of you shared and the golden angel necklace that sat tucked away at the back of your dresser. It was sitting against the back of the drawer, tucked away in a pair of polka dot socks that you never wore. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of that one.
“Momma, that man is swearing.” Megumi says in his sweet voice. You grimace. Is this how you wanted your son to meet his father? In response, you rub his back and try to muster a smile. “I know, baby.” You whisper to him. “We can talk about swearing later.” Megumi had taken “Don’t say ‘fuck’, you’re only four” to mean, “anyone that swears, including adults, should be chastised.” You would have to redo that lecture. 
You really, really shouldn’t get in the truck. You should carry on with your life and pretend that all of this never happened. That Toji isn’t in the flesh in front of you, looking more handsome than you had ever remembered. Looking just like his fucking son. So much like his son that it felt like you were being taunted. He could never deny Megumi again once he saw his face. Even people who weren’t close to you could see the resemblance. 
It’s cold, you justify to yourself as you adjust Megumi in your arms and stand up from the bench. We’ll get home quicker, you think as you round the front of his truck towards the passenger side. You’ve run out of excuses by the time you’re opening the door and sliding in his truck. 
There are countless reasons why you shouldn’t have even looked up while you heard him call you. For starters, the fact that he just said law enforcement is allegedly in pursuit. He’s been back in your life for less than an hour and you’re already doing stupid shit.
What the fuck. You keep Megumi tucked into your chest tight as you sit down in the truck. Megumi is facing his father, trying to get a read on the man his mother had broken the rules for. 
“Okay baby,” You had said to Megumi merely weeks prior, “If a stranger asks you to get in the car with them, what do we say?” You ask him, holding his little hand in yours. 
“My momma said no!” He says. The two of you were sitting on your living room floor, with a blanket under you and watching The Little Mermaid on DVD. You had to save costs wherever you could, and those costs did not include cable. After watching Ariel go into Prince Eric’s palace-house within the first couple of hours being a human, you felt it appropriate to give Megumi the kidnapping talk. He takes a bite of the apple you had cut for him earlier. 
“And what if the stranger said, ‘I’ll give you Pokemon cards if you get in the car’?” You ask him. “I don’t even like Pokemon anymore!” He says proudly, in response to the hypothetical stranger. “What? Since when?” You asked, slightly horrified that you weren’t as attuned to your 4-year old’s interests as you thought. “Since the stranger asked me, momma.” He replied simply. 
This exchange must be very odd for Megumi. You had done your best to raise him right. The best that you could with the resources you had. You tried to teach him hard rules. Don’t talk to strangers, wash your hands before you eat, for the love of god please do not stick forks in the outlets. Now the ‘no strangers’ one was out of the window. It would be tough to explain this. Another lecture to redo.
Toji’s got his eyes on the rearview mirror, looking back at the diner. “Jinichi called the cops on me, the fucking asshole,” He mummers that last part to himself. “So where am I taking you?” Blunt and to the point like always. You give him your address before you could even think about it. Megumi’s tugging on you again to indicate he heard that comment, but you’re slightly out of it. 
There’s a big tear that exposes the cushion of the seat you’re on. You had left that there a lifetime ago when you drunkenly stole Toji’s knife and acted out a confrontation between you and a random girl that was hitting on him. That was one of the many nights that ended in laughter instead of tears.
 It smells exactly the same, he still uses the black ice scent for the little tree hanging from his rearview mirror. He’s still got his CD collection strapped to the sun visor on the driver’s side of the truck. It’s grown since the last time you saw it, expanding to the passenger side sun visor as well. There’s still a mysterious dark stain that you don’t feel comfortable speculating on the nature of in the floorboard. Evidently, he never managed to get it out. 
It’s too much. You have to fight to hold back tears. You had told yourself to never give an ounce to this man again. No tears, no anger, nothing. You had broken that in the diner earlier. It would not happen again.
You should have told him to take you to your mom’s house, so he wouldn’t have any kind of access to you or Megumi. Why would you give him your own address? How fucking stupid. 
It’s silent in the truck. You weren’t going to say anything, you might burst into tears if you opened your mouth. You had sat Megumi on your right side, away from Toji. He was pressed in between you in the door so that you wouldn’t have to be any closer to the man than necessary.
 You still don’t know if Toji had gotten a look at him yet. You take a moment to study the man. He’s got both hands on the steering wheel, sitting pin-straight in his seat. His eyes are very pointedly on the road, as if he’s trying not to look over. If the whites on his knuckles were indicative, and after spending years with him, you knew they were, Toji had already figured it out. 
After that call four years ago, you had a lot of time to ponder Toji’s reaction to you telling him about Megumi. Logically, you knew he was doing what he always did. Avoiding it because he didn’t wanna deal with the prospect of it. The same way he cheated on you to try and get you to run like you should have. The same way he used to pick a fight just to see if that would be your final straw. He denied Megumi because he had some weird psychological avoidance issue. 
Emotionally, you couldn’t see it as anything other than him being selfish while you gave your life to your child. Literally, that’s what it was. 
You were too busy looking at him to notice you had pulled into your apartment complex. 
“Um..” He clears his throat. “Which building do I drop you off at?” Drop you off. You scoff out loud. Of course. He finds out the kid really is his, and he’s avoiding us again. 
“The second one.” You say. You don’t know what you expected. For him to immediately pull Gumi into a hug and move in with you within the hour? Yeah fucking right. 
“Mama, can I play with the Christmas tree when we get home?” Megumi had asked you as your apartment came into view. ‘Christmas tree’ was one of his favorite games to play, where he got all the pots and pans from the cabinets and stacked them on top of each other to make a “Christmas tree.” It was a very messy game that required you to rewash all of your dishes when you were done, so it was a rule that he had to ask for permission before playing. The game had started when last year, tips were slow and you were late on your electric bill. You had already asked your mom for help that month, and refused to do it again. This, of course, meant that there was no money for a christmas tree. After Megumi’s December birthday and the one christmas present you could afford, you had to find some way to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t have a tree like the one at grandma’s house. “We have a better one.” You had told him, “One that you can play with all year long.” 
Needless to say you had cried yourself to sleep that night. 
“We’ll see, Megumi.” You say. The truck comes to a stop in front of your building, and without a word you’re grabbing Megumi out of the truck and slamming the door shut. Not a word said to Toji, not even a glance directed his way. 
It had started sprinkling rain on your drive over. This morning, your mom had called you to let you know there was a flood warning for the next city over. You usually didn’t take those entirely too seriously, waving her off when she had asked you to bring Megumi and spend the night at her house. 
The apartment is two stories tall with stairs on the outside, so you hold Megumi’s hand in yours as you slowly traverse up the stairs. He was skilled enough to walk up them on his own, but after an incident where he took a small fall down them, you were slightly paranoid. 
By the time you’re unlocking your apartment door, you notice that you hadn’t yet heard Toji’s truck pull away, so you glance back to see him still sitting there, waiting for you to get inside. For a moment, the two of you lock eyes. You can feel your heart drop as you usher Gumi in the house and close the door behind you. Don’t give him an ounce. 
You hope and pray that that is the last time you will ever have to think about Toji Fushiguro. The last time until Megumi gets old enough to realize his last name is different from yours. The last time until he asks you why all his friends in school have two parents and he only has one. The last time until he gets old enough to ask why you and his dad never made it work. Until you have to hold him as he cries and wonders why Toji never wanted him.
You let Megumi play Christmas Tree so you can lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment to compose yourself. 
By the time you get Megumi bathed, fed, and ready for bed, it’s eight at night, and the rain outside has been pouring heavily for a couple hours. Gojo had texted you to let you know that the tips had been good that day, but you had a feeling he was lying so he could slip a bit of his parent’s money into what he “owed you.” The diner was never busy on the Monday lunch shift. 
You had made spaghetti that night, a common occurrence in your home and something you were grateful Megumi hadn’t gotten tired of yet. Occasionally, you would get the kitchen guys to sneak you a meal in a togo box to offset grocery costs and eat something different every once in a while. Nanami was one of the cooler managers, which was why you were more comfortable asking that Megumi sit in the diner while you worked that day, but he was not one to let free food slide. 
The night was surprisingly peaceful once Megumi was distracted by his toys and tonight’s DVD movie, Toy Story, which Shoko had gotten him for his birthday. You were distracted by cleaning every single pot and pan you had after Megumi was done playing with them.
Once the two of you sat down for dinner, the inevitable questions came, and Megumi had asked you about the encounter with Toji earlier that night. 
“Mommy, why did those two guys at your job,” he took a breath in between his sentences and spaghetti, “start hitting each other, and then why did you got in one of their cars?”
That was a long conversation about how some brothers (you had let that slip), don’t get along, and how you had already known Toji, though you didn’t say from where or why. Thankfully, Megumi was more curious about why brothers and sisters fight than why his mother got into this random man’s truck. You would definitely have to revisit the “stranger danger” talk. 
It’s about 11 at night when you hear a booming knock at your door. It had pulled you out of your “almost-asleep” daze on the couch. You had already put Megumi to bed by then, and were taking a couple hours to yourself before you went to bed too. You prayed the sound hadn’t woken him. 
Whoever it is knocks again, this time harder and faster. Now that you have more mental capacity to process that, someone uninvited is knocking at your door at an inappropriate time of night for a single mother, you dash across your living room to grab the baseball bat you keep by the door. You’ve never had to defend yourself and your son in this capacity anymore, and suddenly the adrenaline kicks in, and you squeeze the wooden slugger to center yourself.
The only light in the room is coming from the TV, playing the play menu of Clueless on repeat. You must have been asleep longer than you thought. Hoping not to be seen through your shadow by the window, you slowly crane your neck up toward the peep-hole of your apartment door. What you see is the last thing you expected.
Of course it’s Toji. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you alone. You’re such a fucking idiot. 
For a second you contemplate on whether or not you should open the door, but when he bangs again, somehow even louder, you fear that he won’t only wake up Megumi, but the entire apartment complex.
You put the bat back down and unlock the door, pulling it open slowly so that he would only be able to see half of your body from the angle he’s positioned at. He has his hand leaning on the doorframe, and his figure is hunched over to the point he has to lift his head to look you in the eyes. When he does, you realize what this is. He’s drunk.
His eyes are bloodshot red and watery. He’s soaked from head to toe, he had clearly walked through the rain from wherever he was coming from, or stood out in it for so long that he was drenched. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand that wasn’t against the doorframe, hanging precariously from his grasp like he would drop it at any moment. You couldn’t see how much was in it from here, but you knew he had to have drank quite a bit for him to be in this state. 
It’s only when he looks you up and down that you realize you’re only in an old t-shirt and underwear. If this were anyone else, you would’ve squirmed under their gaze, maybe ran to go throw something on, but with Toji, as dumb as it sounded, you couldn’t care less. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask him.
He says nothing, just looks you up and down again and takes a shot from the bottle. 
“Did you drive here?” He nods. Well that’s not fucking good. 
You wait for him to say something, to explain why he felt entitled to knocking on your door in the middle of the night soaking wet with nothing to say. Or maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he left you in the first place without saying a word. Maybe you’re waiting for him to explain why he never even felt the need to come check if Megumi was his. You’re waiting for a lot of explanations? But you don’t get a single one.
In a voice that can only best be described as broken, he softly slurs out, “You… you named him Megumi?”
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very... very sorry for the wait. that semester ended up kicking my ass. no excuses i am very sorry D;
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 month
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I'm a Winner
Pairing: GatorxReader
Summary: You've heard rumors about Gator's abilities in the bedroom and you're curious. You can overlook his bumbling idiocy for an earth shattering orgasm.
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Your eyes started tracking him from the moment he walked in. Gator Tillman, cocky son of Roy Tillman who was known for being a jerk, an idiot, and the resident fuckboy. He moved with the swagger of a man who thought he ran the world. Which is exactly what he thought. He never missed a chance to tell people how he was the law. 
He pulled that stupid vape from his pocket, hitting it hard as he laughed at something Jimmy was saying. Jimmy, another douchebag if there ever was one. You’d made the mistake of hooking up with him for him to be gone before you’d even woken up. No note. No call. But you’d seen him at the bar that night, Susan hanging all over him while he pretended that he had no idea who you were. 
After fucking four of Stark County’s finest you had sworn off cops completely. But lately, you’d been thinking of bending that rule. Yeah, Gator Tillman ran his mouth, telling anyone who would listen how amazing he was in the sack. It was probably just that, all talk. But according to a couple of the girls, he was worth taking a ride. 
He chugged a beer as the men around him all chanted, finishing it off with a neanderthal thumping of chest that led to a loud belch. You grimaced. Maybe this plan wasn’t the best one. Maybe those girls had been exaggerating. After all, Roy Tillman owned this county. No one wanted to get on his or his son’s bad side. They could just be blowing smoke up your ass so it didn’t get back to Gator that they were talking shit about him. 
After Lacy Boggs had bragged about Gator fucking her in the back of his cop car after another one of Jimmy’s parties, you’d been intrigued. She’d claimed that he had worked her over so good that she couldn’t walk straight for a week. After Kelsey Stouts had renowned you with her story of giving him head to get out of a speeding ticket, saying she’d never been so turned on having a dick in her mouth, you’d been highly interested. 
What man had a dick so special that a woman came just from sucking him off? You’d found yourself suddenly paying special attention to the deputy sheriff. Sipping your coffee in the diner while he picked up his order, noticing how well he filled out those camo pants he loved so much. He’d leaned back, resting his elbows on the counter, lazily waiting for his food, and you’d noticed it wasn’t just the back of the pants he’d filled out. 
That was the moment you’d decided you needed to see for yourself. That was the moment you’d realized that Gator Tillman, while a piece of absolute shit, was a hell of a view from all angles. He wasn’t long term material but you weren’t looking for long term. You were simply looking for a good time with a man who might be able to show it to. Unlike the other worthless men in this town. 
Gator turned, his eyes locking onto yours from where you sat, on a stool at the counter in the kitchen. One eyebrow lifted along with one side of his mouth, his hand running over that slicked back hair. You ran your tongue over your upper lip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to ignore the gesture. And sure enough, here he came, like a dog scenting a bitch in heat. 
“I could feel your eyes on me,” he smirked, placing one hand on the counter next to you, invading your space to the point where you could smell the Axe body spray he’d clearly used far too much of. “Whatchu want, darling?”
“Sorry, officer. Is it a crime to look?” you challenged, tilting your head, biting back the urge to reach out and tug on the wild mass of chest hair that was escaping the top of his shirt. 
“It’s only a crime if I say it’s a crime.” His head dropped, lips so close you could smell the fruity tang on his breath of watermelon from that damn vape he always had in his pocket. “See something you like?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard things…but I’m not sure if I should believe them or not.”
“You heard things? Well, I heard things too.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“I heard you got a thing for men in uniform,” he whispered. His hand fell on your knee and you allowed it, curious to see where this was going to go. After all, wasn’t this what you’d come here for tonight? “Let me guess. You been disappointed but you heard Gator can get your body exactly where it needs to be, didn’t you?”
His fingers slid under the edge of your skirt and you placed your hand over them, stopping him. Gator smirked, pulling hips lips between his teeth. 
“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased.
“You could be full of me too, mama. You know you want to. Just say the word. Jimmy’s got a spare room upstairs. This Gator wouldn’t mind exploring your wet swamp.”
A snort you couldn’t stop escaped and before you knew it, you were in hysterics. Gator looked confused and then offended, his hand disappearing from your leg as he straightened up, turning his head to each side, trying to regain his tough facade. His eyes darted around the room, daring anyone to say anything about you laughing at him. 
“I’m sorry…but do you really think that’s sexy? Referring to my vagina as a swamp?” you cackled. “Jesus, maybe those girls were overexaggerating. I thought you had game.”
“Oh, I got game honey,” he hissed angrily, his face suddenly in yours again, those hazel eyes dark as night. You swallowed hard, pulling back, laughter dying in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do. Knowing the Tillman family, there was no threshold to what they were capable of when they were angry. “I got more game than Lebron James.”
“Okay…yeah. I’m sure you do. Must be a bad night for you or something.”
His hand came to your throat, his nose bumping yours, “You need a lesson in how to talk respectfully to authority. If you don’t have nothing to say, we might have to give that pretty little mouth something else to do.”
Heat flared between your thighs as he pushed against you, spreading you wide until you could feel pressed against you. Dampness was already spreading across your panties, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to keep you from whimpering in front of this entire party. Fuck. Why were you so turned on? You should be pushing this asshole off and telling him where to shove it. But the way he was looking at you, those eyes filled with promises of what he planned to do…you wanted it. 
Opening your eyes wide, you gave him the most innocent, doe eyed look you could manage. “Uh-oh, deputy. Have I been a bad girl? I guess you better punish me then so I can learn to be better.”
You enjoyed the way Gator’s eyes flickered in surprise, his cock reacting to your words, rigid and hard. You fought the urge to rub yourself against him, to relieve some of the ache that was already throbbing. You fucking needed this.
“Then get that sweet little ass upstairs.” His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “Last door on the right. Get on the bed and get on all fours. Lift that little skirt up for me and wait until I get there. And no touching yourself honey. I’ll know.”
Then he was gone. You gasped, blinking, finding him back over with his cop buddies, another beer in his hand. His eyes flickered to you and up the stairs. Not even knowing who the hell you were right now, you rose on shaky legs, making your way up the steps. 
No one stopped you. No one even seemed to be paying attention and if they were, they probably just assumed you were going to the bathroom. At the top of the landing, you made your way down the hallway, grabbing the doorknob to the last door on the right just like he’d said. 
Were you seriously going to do this? Were you really going to let Gator fucking Tillman order you around? For a second you considered just walking back down the stairs and out the door to your car. Let him be pissed when he got up here and found the room empty. Who in the hell did that guy think he was? God?
But that thought evaporated as fast as it came. You weren’t leaving. You were too invested now. You wanted to know if he could put his money where his mouth was. You wanted to know if that dick was as magical as the rumors said it was. And fuck, you wanted him to dominate the shit out of you. You wanted him to punish you. You wanted him to give you what you’d always craved but never had, what most of the boys in this town weren’t capable of. You wanted an earth shattering orgasm. You wanted to be walking funny for a week. You just hoped you weren’t getting your expectations up to have them shattered in disappointment because this guy could be all talk.
That fucking pick-up line. You snorted again thinking about it as you crawled onto the mattress. What woman would want her pussy to be compared to a swamp? Gross. Pressing your face into the mattress, you lifted your ass high, grasping the hem of your skirt and flipping it up. But dumb didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck, right? Only time would tell.
“Well, well, well…now if that ain’t the prettiest sight I ever did see. A woman showing some respect to authority, following an officer’s commands.”
Your pussy clenched, anticipation building at the sound of the door shutting, the lock clicking into place. The sound of cotton slipping over skin caressed your ears as he pulled his shirt off, a flash of green fabric in the corner of your vision. 
Each step toward the bed was a thud as his heavy combat boots hit the floor. You squirmed. Your desire building, your need pulsing through you like the rumbles of an earthquake. You’d never been so fucking turned on in your life and he hadn’t even touched you yet. God, he better live up to the hype.
“Mmm, now that’s a peach I’d like to sink my teeth in…”
He was right behind you now and you jumped when his hand came down upon your flesh with a loud smack. Gator treated the opposite cheek to the same treatment, eliciting a whimper from you. His hand wrapped around your thighs, yanking them further apart, spreading you wide. 
“My, my…” You gasped when his nose slid over your panties from the front to the back. “Damn darling, you smell just as sweet as you look. You taste just as good too?”
“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use and find out?” you teased, wiggling your ass back and forth for him, your need for him use his fingers, his tongue, his cock, fucking anything on you raging like an inferno. The heat was spreading over your skin until you were sure you would incinerate from it, nothing left but a pile of ashes on this bed. 
Another smack came at your words, this time to your pussy, the impact vibrating throughout your entire body. You cried out, rocking your hips backward, damn near begging this man to give you more. 
“Now, I thought we’d done and cleared this up, darling? It’s your mouth that needs something to do. Clearly you haven’t learned your less about talking back to your superiors.”
“I don’t work for you,” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from antagonizing him, wanting to push him over the edge, to push him to give you exactly what you wanted.
“Oh, well, I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m here the law of this land,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair, lifting you up off the bed. “Tonight you do work for me and you can start by getting on your knees.”
Leaning forward, you batted your eyelashes, smirking with a tilt of your head, “Make me, officer.”
His lips pouted to the side, his hand coming to the back of his pants. You could tell he was more excited than aggravated at your challenge. Most girls probably didn’t have the balls to talk back to him, too scared of that last name he carried around. When he revealed it again, a pair of handcuffs dangled from his fingers. 
“Oh, we want to play like that? Alrighty then.” Roughly, he shoved you face first onto the bed. Pulling your arms behind you, you felt the cool metal snap around each wrist. “I can play like that.”
Not even waiting for your response, his fingers curled in your hair, tugging until you had no choice but to come off the bed, standing in front of him. Pulling again, he jerked your head so you were looking up at him. You gasped at the pain at your scalp and he used that opportunity to lick the inside of your mouth before pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking until it released with an audible pop. 
“Now, I said on your knees.”
His hand dropped to the top of your head, pressing you down until you had no other option if you didn’t want to rupture a vertebrae. Gator stood, considering you, his head tilting one way and then the other. With a movement so fast you barely knew it had happened, his hands pulled at your shirt, ripping the buttons. Swiping at the fabric, nothing was left to conceal you from him besides scraps of black lace.
“That’s better. Wanna admire those tits while I watch that mouth apologize for talking back.” His zipper made a soft hiss before his pants dropped around his ankles. Gator slid one hand into his boxer briefs, pulling out his already hard cock, showing you that what you thought you saw was no exaggeration. This man was hung. “Now open up for me, mama.”
Eager to find out if this cock was everything you’d been told, you opened wide. 
“Stick that tongue out for me. Oh…that’s a girl…”
He slapped the tip of his erection against your tongue a few times. You kept your mouth open as he slipped it inside, the tip running along each cheek. When his fist curled in your hair again, you worked to relax your throat, anticipating what was coming. 
And Gator did not disappoint. He fucked your face, sending his cock straight back to kiss your tonsils. You gagged, your nose nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of him. But he didn’t relent, doing it again, and a third time, his sack hitting your chin with each hard thrust into your mouth. His groans and grunts created a soundtrack of meal pleasure while his cock left no inch of your throat untouched until you felt like he would reach your lungs. 
“Fuck, darling. That pretty little mouth is good for something other than being a smartass.” His hand eased in your hair, his other hand slipping along his length, pressing it against his stomach. “Gotta show the boys the same kind of love, now.”
You pressed your nose against the seam of his hip, dragging your tongue underneath. He hissed and you moaned, his sounds only furthering your desire. Your panties were absolutely soaked as you took first one and then the other of his testicles into your mouth, sucking and releasing with a loud pop. 
“You are a dirty little slut, aren’t ya honey? You like sucking dick, don’t you?”
A moan was the only answer you gave him, your tongue now dragging over the side of his cock. Fuck, you wanted your hands free so you could touch him. Taking his length in your mouth again, you moved over him, his hips rocking forward to meet you. 
“Look at me, honey. Yeah…fuck, you look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wrap your lips around it. Yeah, just like that…”
Tears streamed down your face as you took him as deeply as you could. You scraped your teeth gently over the sensitive skin and he jumped, growling before slamming to the back of your throat again in punishment. Just as his grunts were coming faster and you were sure he was close, he grabbed your hair, yanking you off him. 
“Now to see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
Heaving you over his shoulder, he tossed you to the bed, grabbing onto your hands and hooking the chain of the handcuffs over the bedpost, effectively keeping you restrained. Gator kicked off his pants and his boots before climbing on the bed. He roughly yanked off your panties and then pressed your knees, leaving you spread before him. 
Lying on his stomach, he leaned in, inhaling deeply again, “Fuck, just like peaches. I’m telling ya. Now, you wanna see why all the girls talk about Gator, honey, because I’m gonna show ya.”
He didn’t just lick. He didn’t just suck. This man fucking feasted on you like you were a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving. You cried out, pulling at the handcuffs, your hips bucking up off the bed. Gator’s large hands landed on each of your thighs, pressing you down as he devoured. 
“Fuck, Gator. Jesus…oh my god…that’s so good…so fucking good…” you whimpered, your hands opening and closing in desperate to grab onto his head and grind yourself against him. But you couldn’t. This man had all the control. 
“Mmm…I told you, Gator knows his way around moist places, honey.”
Fuck. You hated that goddamn word. This man seriously had to come up with better descriptions for a woman’s pussy but not even that was enough to break you from the fucking ecstasy you were lost in as his tongue slid down, entering you. That glorious fucking nose, a nose that looked like it belonged on a Roman God continued to nuzzle deliciously over your clit as his tongue fucked you. 
Your body was fucking humming. Gator was playing you like a violin and you were loving every goddamn note. When two thick fingers slid into you, pumping hard while his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed his name, your thighs locking around his head. Your hips rocked up into him, your body desperately seeking sweet release. 
“I’m gonna…oh shit…oh god…Gator…”
“That’s right. Come for me, mama. Come all over Gator’s face.”
The tension within you coiled so tightly, you thought you would snap and then snap you did. With a scream so loud you were sure the entire party had heard, your orgasm crashed over you, your back bowing off the bed. 
“Jesus Christ…” you whimpered, collapsing.
“Mmm…” His lips pressed against your clit and you squeaked, jerking. “So fucking tasty.”
His chin glistened with your juices as he brought his two fingers to his mouth, slipping them inside, sucking the remains of your pleasure off. Your eyes fluttered closed, your body spent, completely wrecked after the most earth shattering orgasm of your goddamn life. The sound of foil tearing caught your attention and you opened your eyes to see Gator slipping a condom over his painfully hard cock.
“I ain’t done with you yet, mama.” Kneeling between your legs, he lifted one up, pressing it against his chest. “Gonna get nice and deep. I’m gonna hit places ain’t no other man ever hit.”
In one swift thrust, he entered you, stretching you, his cock filling you completely. Your eyes rolled back in your head, teeth clenched against the delicious burn. Gator did not wait for you to adjust to his size. He pounded into you, your skin slapping together harshly. 
Pressing forward, he bent your leg toward you with the weight of his chest. The next thrust sent him in so deeply that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You cursed, gasping his name. 
“There it is…” he growled, rolling into you again and again, each time hitting a space that had you seeing fucking stars, planets, entire galaxies that you’d never explored but desperately wanted to.
“Jesus Gator…I’m gonna come again…I…so good…fuck…”
You wanted to grab his arms. You wanted to sink your fingers into that chest hair that was teasing you, tickling your nose. You wanted to rake your fingernails down his back. But you could do none of those things, the use of your hands taken from you.
A scream ripped from your throat as your second orgasm threatened to tear you apart. Gator didn’t cease his pace as your walls pulsed around him, pulling him deep. 
“That’s it…fuck yeah…I’m a winner…” he grunted, hips slamming into you again. “I’m a winner, honey.” Sweat trickled down his face. “I’m a…” His mouth opened wide, his body shaking as he stilled above you, riding out his own release. “Winner,” he gasped. “I’m a fucking winner.”
Your eyes went wide watching him and you bit down on your lip, thinking it would be a very bad idea to laugh at him right now. Maybe he was an idiot but if he could give you orgasms like that, you’d be willing to overlook a few flaws. 
“Those girls were right, weren’t they?” he demanded breathlessly. “Say it. Tell me they were right.”
“They were…they were right,” you breathed, struggling to catch your own breath. “You’re a winner, Gator.”
“Fucking right I am.”
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rizzanon · 6 months
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[Black Coffee] Leon Kennedy
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warning: quite a long fic, not proofread 0_0, Leon being an absolute lovestruck idiot
Leon doesn't know what he's doing.
He's sitting at the far corner of the small, comfy cafe he's at, drinking black coffee while sneaking glances towards the barista at the counter.
He doesn't even like coffee. Well, he thought he didn't. But he always liked the black coffee you made.
For the past few weeks, he made sure that coming to this very cafe became apart of his daily routine. He tries to do so everyday when he's not on a mission.
But why does he make the effort to do so?
He doesn't even know himself. All he knew was that he wanted to see you. Even if it's from a distance. Even if it meant sneaking shy glances at you, who's taking the patrons orders, and making their drinks.
Seeing your pleasant smile always brightened his day, even if the smile wasn't meant for him. Your smile and friendly aura are what attracted him to you in the first place. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to go up to you and strike a conversation. The only words he had ever uttered to you were, "One black coffee, please". On some occasions, he would order a sandwich as well, if he was hungry. After getting his order, he would find a seat in a corner that was away from the other patrons, but was still in bird's eye view to see you working behind the counter.
Right now, you were busy behind the counter, whipping up a customer's order swiftly. Leon could tell you were exhausted, and rightfully so. Because that day, it seemed that the cafe was more busier than usual. Even though the cafe was packed with more customers than usual, Leon noticed how you still kept a smile on your face as you served each and every customer with the help of your co-workers.
Leon wonders how you do it. How were you able to keep a smile on your face despite being clearly exhausted? He could barely smile after filling up a couple of tedious government reports. He wanted to ask you, but was it stepping out of line?
He was just a random customer at your cafe. so wouldn't it be weird if he were to suddenly come up to you and ask, "Hey, how do you always keep a smile on your face like that?"
You would definitely be confused, and would think that he had a few screws loose Leon didn't want you to think that way of him. Not when he barely had the chance to get to know you yet.
How long has he been sitting at the cafe anyways?
He looked down at his half empty cup of coffee, and picked it up to finish drinking it.
Ah..
It's cold.
Must've been here for quite some time now.
Just as Leon was about to stand up and return the cup back to the counter where you were standing at, he watched one of your coworkers walk up to you, saying something that didn't quite reach his ears. You smiled at your coworker, and left your station at the counter to go to the back, while the coworker took over the job of taking the customers orders.
Your shift must have ended, Leon thought, as he quietly sulked at missing his opportunity to talk to you again.
Looks like hell have to try again another time.
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No matter how hard Leon tries, it seemed as if every opportunity he got to go and talk to you is short-lived. He was either interrupted by impatient customers waiting in line behind him or by your coworkers who needed help with something. Despite this, he couldn't entirely blame the circumstances for not being able to talk to you. If he hadn't hesitated to go and talk to you, he wouldn't be in this troubled predicament.
Why was he hesitating?
You were just an ordinary person, going about with your life like anyone would. He shouldn't feel nervous to go and strike a conversation with you.
Yet here he was, getting butterflies in his stomach whenever the thought of talking to you pops up in his mind. The way he's behaving right now reminds him of his 21 year old self, the rookie cop he once was. But he's no longer 21, he's 27. 6 years have passed since that unfortunate incident in Raccoon City. He was now a fully fledged government agent, having faced various bio weapons among the missions he's been assigned. Talking to you should be no big deal, right?
The moment Leon stepped into the cafe, he could spot a (very) noticeable difference in the atmosphere right then compared to the previous times he's been to the cafe. It was quite empty, only having about a few customers lounging there.
That could be because it wasn't the peak hour yet for the cafe. After all, it was only 10 am. Usually, Leon would show up at the cafe at around 1 pm, the time which more people would show up to the cafe. Would it be weird for him to show up earlier than he usually did?
No. It shouldn't be.
He was a customer after all, he's allowed to go and get coffee whenever he wants.
No big deal.
So why was he so pressed about it? Why did he care about little things like that? Leon didn't have the answers to those questions, and just shook those thoughts out of his head, before making his way to the counter, where you were.
He swears he saw your eyes light up when he locked eyes with you. But then again, it could've just been a figment of his imagination,
"Oh! Hello sir! You're here earlier today!" Your voice rang out, as you smiled at the blond man who was walking towards the counter.
You noticed?
Leon, slightly taken aback by your jovial greeting, could only just nod his head. He didn't think you'd actually acknowledge that he was there at the cafe earlier than he usually would be.
"Ah.... yeah I suppose I came here earlier than usual," he replied quite drily. Not the tone he wanted to his words to come off as.
Despite his blatant dryness, the smile on your face unwavering.
"So, I'm guessing you want your usual?"
Usual?
"By usual, do you mean a black coffee?"
"Yeah, I mean, isn't that what you always order from here? Sometimes, you order a sandwich too, right?"
Leon's mouth was slightly agape, not knowing what to say, Did he really come to this cafe so many times that you'd know his order by heart? Leon wanted to feel flattered, but at the same time, this was to be expected if he kept on ordering the same thing over and over.
"Yeah, guess you got me all figured out. Kinda boring, isn't it?" Leon said, in a self-deprecating tone.
"If I'm being honest, yeah, it is kind of boring to order the same thing all the time. But people like eating or drinking something they re familiar with, so does it really matter if their order is boring if that's what they want?"
Your very blunt answer was not what Leon was expecting. But it was refreshing nonetheless.
"You do have a point. Familiarity is something everyone unconsciously seeks for, even in the littlest of things."
"True, familiarity in the littlest things are what allows us to build connections and find common ground after all." You continued, as you smiled warmly at Leon, which only caused him to break eye contact with you. Wow, he didn't expect to be having a full on conversation with you, today of all days.
"Glad to hear we're on the same page on these things, Mister....?" Your words trailed off, as you attempted to get the blond man's name.
Leon blinked in realisation that you were asking for him name, and almost choked on air, clearing his throat to regain his composure.
"Leon. Just call me Leon, No need for formalities, haha."
Your smile only grew brighter at his words, a chuckle leaving your mouth as well.
"I see, it's nice to finally get your name, Leon I'm _____. I should go and make your coffee now, don't wanna keep you waiting." You said, as you quickly went to prepare the black coffee you always made for him.
Leon was in a daze, satisfaction washing all over his face. He finally was able to get your name. But there was a thought lingering at the back of his mind.
With the way you phrased your words, were you also waiting for the chance to learn his name?
No, he shouldn't really jump to conclusions like that. Maybe you simply just wanted to know his name, nothing more than that.
He was soon interrupted from his thoughts from you coming back up to the counter with his coffee in your hand, and something else too.
Cookies..?
"Here you go! That'll be $2.50. Also, thought it would be nice to have cookies to eat as well. To satisfy your sweet tooth."
"You're giving someone who orders black coffee almost everyday from your cafe, cookies, to satisfy their sweet tooth?" Leon repeated your words, sarcasm slipping out of his tongue.
He was taken aback, amused even.
He expected you to take back your words, but instead, you just doubled down.
"Yeah, why not? I have a hunch you'll like them. Always trust the barista, Leon." You said sending a wink his way.
"And don't worry about paying for it, it's on me. A little thank you for being a loyal customer." You handed Leon the bag of cookies and his usual coffee, before waving him goodbye.
"Bye Leon! Hope to see you again soon!"
Leon just nodded in return, beckoning goodbye before heading out of the cafe to head over to his next destination. Once he was sure he was fully out of your sight, he almost collapsed out of pure bliss and joy.
He couldn't believe that just this one interaction with you was able to make him feel this way. Making him feel like a high school kid all over again. Making his heart beat so rapidly.
He concluded that he had a crush on you. There was no doubt about that, with how he was feeling.
But he knew that he would have to do more in order to catch your attention. After all, to you, he was just another regular customer of the cafe you worked at.
He wanted to get to know you more. He had to talk to you more.
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Too bad things didn't exactly go the way Leon wanted it to. How was he supposed to know that his schedule would've become so packed for the next few days that he didn't even have time to go to the cafe?
Leon could only internally curse at himself and his management for suddenly assigning him all these tasks and reports. They weren't difficult, but it was time-consuming, and that was what Leon hated about them the most.
It had been a week since he last went to buy coffee from the cafe you worked at. A week since he last saw you.
He wonders how you've been faring for these last couple of days. He hopes you've been doing okay, like you always have. Was it weird for him to want to see you?
Maybe.
After all, the two of you were barely even acquaintances.
Still, he wanted to go to the cafe and see you.
But he couldn't do that just yet. Not until he's completed all the tasks and reports assigned to him.
Leon knew he was definitely lacking sleep. He could use one of the coffees you'd make for him. It would definitely energise me, he thought.
It was as if the gods heard his prayers, as Hunnigan popped up from behind him, as she set down a cup of coffee. He recognised the logo on the paper cup. It was from the cafe you worked at.
"Here, thought you could use some coffee. You look as if you're going to die any moment now." Hunnigan says, as she looked him up and down.
"Wow, thanks a lot. Appreciate ya'. Remind me to take you out to drink next time, 'kay?"
"No thanks."
Leon just chuckled as he watched the unamused Hunnigan return back to her own desk, before setting his eyes on the coffee she gave him.
He thinks to himself, "Did you make this?"
You probably did. After all, you were one of the main baristas at the cafe.
He gingerly picks up the cup, blowing softly onto the surface of the cup, before taking a sip of the coffee.
....
It was bitter.
Bitter?
Why was it bitter?
Usually, the coffees you'd make were sweeter than this.
"Hey, Hunnigan. You sure this is black coffee?" Leon calls out to Hunnigan. Hunnigan looks up from her screen, confusion spread across her face.
"Yeah. It's definitely black coffee."
"Why is it so bitter than?"
Leon watched as Hunnigan furrows her eyebrows, her expression becoming one of unamusement.
"Black coffee is supposed to be bitter, Leon."
What?
Leon didn't know what to think. All this time, the coffees you made for him were sweeter than what he just drank. At that moment, he recalled the last time he'd talk to you.
"Also, thought it would be nice to have cookies to eat as well. To satisfy your sweet tooth."
"You're giving someone who orders black coffee almost everyday from your cafe, cookies, to satisfy their sweet tooth?"
"Yeah, why not? I have a hunch you'll like them. Always trust the barista, Leon."
Leon immediately rises from his seat, feeling his face flush in embarrassment. You somehow knew Leon wouldn't like black coffee. And all this while, you were playing with him, making him think he was drinking black coffee when in actuality, he was not.
He had to talk to you.
He wanted to know how you'd know that he apparently wouldn't like black coffee. Not even he himself realised that.
He immediately heads to the exit, wanting to confront you about it. The cafe was 20 mins away, he could go there and quickly come back. That is, after he gets his answers.
"Hey Leon! Where are you going?!? You still have stuff to-"
"I'll be back, Hunnigan."
.
.
.
Within 20 minutes, Leon finds himself at the cafe you worked at. It was almost 12 pm, so customers were going to pile up soon.
Leon sees you at the counter, and walks up to you.
You immediately noticed him, and your eyes once again, lit up at the sight of the blond man.
"Oh hey! Leon! It's been a while. How've you been?"
"How'd you know from the get go I wouldn't like actual black coffee?"
Your eyes widened in surprise, before you suddenly burst out laughing. Leon just looked at you, confused.
"Oh my god, you finally realised, huh? After one month. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be laughing, but it really is amusing."
"What's so amusing about this? You tricking me into thinking you're giving me black coffee all this time?" Leon mumbles, avoiding your eyes as he clearly was embarrassed about the situation.
Maybe confronting you head on like this wasn't the best idea....
"I sincerely apologise. But can I ask you this one thing?"
"Uh.... okay?"
"When you first started coming to this cafe one month ago, was my coffee the first ever coffee you've actually tried?"
Oh.
It was.
But Leon was already too embarrassed to admit that.
Seeing his reaction, you just chuckled even more.
"Based on your reaction, I can tell it was. That explains why you didn't seem to notice that I got the orders mixed up that day. I accidentally gave you a latte instead of black coffee, but before I could warn you, you already took a sip, and didn't say anything about it."
"Oh."
"Oh in deed. I didn't know how to burst your bubble, you clearly enjoyed the latte and I didn't want to ruin your mood that day. So I just continued to make you lattes instead of actual black coffees from then on. I guess I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure that out, haha!"
Leon wishes he could just disappear at that moment. How embarrassing. He was just being fooled all this while unknowingly.
At least it gave you a good laugh, that's what Leon thought.
But could he recover from this moment?
Hopefully.
Your laughter died down after a while, and that's when you started feeling a little guilty for tricking Leon. His embarrased side was really adorable though. You didn't think that this stoic man who always came to the cafe was able to make this expression. It was kinda cute.
"I'm sorry once again for fooling you all this while. Is there anything I can do for you to forgive me? So that I won't lose a very loyal customer?" You asked with pleading eyes, batting your eyelashses at the blond man.
"Hmm.... how about you give me your number for starters?"
You were taken aback by his request, a blush creeping up your face as you quickly realised he wasn't joking, flashing you a boyish grin.
"Sure! Why not. I guess we'll be talking a lot more huh, Leon."
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holylulusworld · 3 months
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Indecent Proposal (12)
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Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, established Stucky, angst, mentions of smut
Indecent Proposal (11)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
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Back from your little getaway with Steve and Bucky, you had to face reality. 
It was just your luck that the cops stumbled over your ex’s body.
A few hours later they knocked at your door, asking you to come to the precinct and give them a statement.
That’s how you ended up in an interrogation room with some cop on a mission. Of course, he knows about Scott’s not-so-legal business.
“Miss Y/L/N, when have you last seen your boyfriend Scott Lang.”
“Mr. Lang isn’t my boyfriend any longer,” you act like you don’t know about his death. “We parted ways a few weeks ago. After a party.”
“Why?” The detective asks. He’s thumbing through a folder in his hands, looking at you now and then.
“Why what?”
“Why are you not together any longer?” He cocks his head to watch you cross your arms over your chest.
You sigh deeply. It’s not the detective’s business why you broke up with Scott. You try your best to keep a straight face and get out of here as fast as possible. 
“Scott is like a big child, you know.” Holding the detective’s gaze, you try not to make a mistake and end up in jail, or get Steve and Bucky arrested. “I dreamed of marriage, children, and settling down.” You shrug. “He has his head in the clouds. We parted ways because we wanted different things. He’s a nice guy, but not the one for me.”
“He was a nice guy,” the detective finally says. You already know Scott is dead, but act like you heard about it for the first time.
“What?”
“He’s dead. Your boyfriend got murdered and we try to find out what happened in his life over the last weeks.” He closes the folder and looks you straight in the eyes. 
“He got killed,” you fake a sob. “No…no. This is impossible. Scott is a good guy. Why would anyone hurt him? I don’t understand.” You think about something sad to shed a few tears. “You must be mistaken. Scott can’t be dead.”
“Miss Y/L/N, where have you been over the last two weeks?” The detective asks. He looks at you, searching for any trace of lies when you answer his question.
“I was on vacation with two friends. They asked if I wanted to join them on their trip,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “After the breakup, I needed some time to think about a few things.”
“Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes are friends of yours?” He leans back in his chair. The detective didn’t expect you to be honest. “Since when?”
“We met at a party and kinda hit it off. You know, sometimes you just click with a person and know, you are going to become friends,” you casually say. 
“I assume it was the party you mentioned before.”
“Yes,” you know he knows everything about the party and your connection to Steve and Bucky. There is no point in lying to him. “Scott introduced me to the couple, and we talked for hours.”
“You only talked?” He presses on, eyes dropping to the folder on the table. You know he’s got no proof that you and your men are more than friends.
“I don’t understand your question,” batting your eyelashes you try to pretend you are the meek and shy woman your colleagues described. You know the detective sniffed around your neighborhood and workplace.
“I want to know if you fucked them before or after you killed Scott Lang,” he jumps up from his chair, knocking it over. The detective slams his hands onto the table, making you flinch.
“What? Are you out of your mind?” You gasp loudly and place one hand on your heart. “Detective, Scott, and I broke up. But I would never harm him. Neither would Mr. Rogers, or Mr. Barnes harm him. Why would we do such a thing?”
“Brock,” another detective enters the interrogation room. She places her hand on her partner’s shoulder and whispers something you cannot hear in his ear.
“You sure?” He cocks a brow. “I thought…we got them this time.”
“The results do not lie, Brock. We arrested the killer,” she says while glancing at you. The redhead dips her head to look you up and down. “Detective Romanoff,” she holds out her hand. “We are done here, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Wait…I’m not done. I still got questions,” Brock grunts as his partner guides you toward the door. “Natasha, you can’t be serious. We both know it was them killing Lang.”
“We know shit,” Natasha replies. “Just stop, Brock. We will get them another time.”
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You silently walk next to Natasha, wondering what just happened. She guides you out of the building, and toward a black SUV waiting for you.
“Tell Bucky we are even now,” she whispers so no one can hear. “I cannot protect them forever. They need to be more careful and stop disposing of bodies in my town.”
You gape at her. Speechless and a little shell-shocked. “Doll, get in,” Bucky opens the door to the limousine. “Come on. We don’t want to draw more attention toward you.”
“Okay,” you get inside the car, swallowing thickly. “Bucky, what’s going on?”
“Well, shit doll,” Steve shrugs as the driver starts the engine. “Bucky disposed of your ex at the wrong place, and someone found his body.”
“I already got that but…” you hide your face in the palms of your hands. “That woman said you are even now.”
“Nah, she still owes us,” Bucky waves your concern off. “That asshole Brock tries to arrest us for years.” The brunette grins. “He’s like a dog chasing his tail.”
“That’s not funny!” You sniffle. “He accused me of murdering Scott. Or rather that we conspired to kill my ex. I was so scared of saying something wrong.”
“Doll, you did so well for us. Come here,” Steve pats his thigh, and you immediately crawl into his lap to hide your face in his shoulder. “We are sorry for not being there sooner. It was too risky. We didn’t want Brock to dig deeper.”
“What will we do now?” You sniffle. “What if he finds proof that Bucky killed Scott?”
“They won’t find shit,” Bucky grunts. “We made sure of it. One of our competitors will take the blame.” The brunette runs his hand over your hair. “Please don’t worry. That bastard killed more than one innocent bystander.”
“Are you sure?” You fist Steve’s jacket. “I don’t want to lose one of you. Please tell me everything is going to be alright.”
“Y/N, I swear no one is going to part us,” Bucky whispers while you cling to his husband. “I fixed the mess I made. I always do.”
"We are sorry about Brock, and the interrogation. Bucky and I never wanted you to know about this side of our business."
"They were at my workplace, Steve. Everyone believes I'm a criminal, a murderer even."
"We will fix this too," Steve softly says. "For now, let's drive home and forget about this shitty day."
"Tomorrow is a better day," Bucky whispers. "Promised."
Part 12.2
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lordgrimoire · 1 year
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The Amity Parkers
Inspired by This Post, which is long, read the many reblogs and tags and comments, it’s fun!
Tim was Ninety Percent Sure that he was going absolutely insane, granted it was a long time coming. Danny Fenton, his Chemistry teacher and Dash Baxter, his Phys Ed teacher? That was two people from the same practically non-existent town in Illinois, but add onto that the fact that even MORE people kept showing up in Gotham from sleepy little Amity Park and proceeded to either A:Thrive or B:Thrive but with the Energy of a Kryptonian having nonstop contact highs.
After his two teachers, or more accuratly before, there had been Jazz Fenton, a new Psychiatrist working in Gotham and making rather noticeable strides in things. Then arrived her brother and Baxter, who had applied roughly at the same time in the aftermath of a Rogue attack on the cities water treatment plant, and the floodgates seemed to less open more fly off the hinges as though breaching charges had been used. 
Now there were MORE people here, there was Tucker Foley, working at Wayne Enterprises as a coder and a damn terrifying one to boot, Sam Manson, an activist who ended up throwing Tim during one of his Red Robin patrols where he’d come across her “Protest Site” which had been a small park in The Narrows. Wes Weston, a cop, had been giving his coworkers and his Chem teacher NOTHING but grief, insisting that Fenton was doing “Something” wrong but never quite being able to get things to stick, upon further digging this had been a long running one sided rivalry. There was also a SECOND Psychiatrist, Paulina Sanchez, at Gotham Academy who was also from Amity Park, and her files were airtight, as Damian’s most recent hacking attempt and Tim’s own follow up had failed to breach her firewalls.
So, here Tim was, staring at Danielle “Dani/Ellie” Masters, Dr. Fenton’s CLONE and the Academies newest but also most feral teacher as she boxed the Joker hard enough for an audible crack to be heard from their classroom from where she was fighting the demented clown on the field. Baxter was still running his class as normal, though a bit further away, and Dr. Fenton was still teaching their class, while Tim was trying to get Extra Credit and vengeance on the Doctor through today’s extra credit task, making a tracker that could track Doctor Fenton for Twenty Four Hours. 
Why was he seeking vengeance you ask? Well given the fact that Jason brought Doctor Fenton to Family Dinner last week [with Alfred’s blessing] and had come in with the most gremlin-esque energy he’d seen from a Non-Rogue. Now don’t get Tim wrong, he likes Doctor Fenton, he may be demented as all get out but he was regularly making counters to drugs and toxins that seemed to just inhabit Gotham. BUT! Doctor Fenton and Jason had been so sickeningly cutes-y with each other at Dinner, like a couple of Birds of Paradise trying to one up each other.
Then of course was the “Story Time” where the two had teamed up to tell embarrassing stories, though Danny held back, a touch. It didn’t absolve him, especially with how he egged on Jason, which very much didn’t help the whole “I know you’re the Bats” situation. AND THEN! There was the fact that a majority of the Amity Parkers KNEW that they were the Bats, It was as though they had gone through this whole song and dance before, which given prior statements of Doctor Fenton having “Hung up the Cape” seemed to imply he used to be a hero in Amity Park, where your average joe could one on one a rank and file leaguer or at least give them a rough time.
The fact that a semester of training from Baxter and Fenton alone had made Tim’s year group capable of facing off with the JL  was a testament to that.
Speaking of which, some Junior Leaguers were coming to Gotham, if only for a place where they were not as “Strange”. Some of those moves may have been encouraged with the recent custody battle between Luthor against Vlad and Danielle Masters regarding Connor, who was a Copyrighted clone as it turns out, which had resulted  in Connor being made a ward of Danielle Masters, who had chewed Superman out HARD along with her Original, Doctor Danny Fenton himself.
Suffice to say, Clark did NOT get majority of Custody, and only got every third weekend, which was terrifying in Tim’s opinion that this small town mayor who was as wealthy as Luthor, had turned up, legally thrashed Luthor, and then given custody over to his daughter, thrashed SUPERMAN with KRYPTONIAN LAWS, and then gone back to Amity Park Illinois to resume his Mayor-ship there. The fact the town was essentially a self governing and self sufficient region  meant that the League was now VERY AWARE of it, and the fact that the League of Assassins had tried and FAILED multiple times to infiltrate the town, with more people going rogue than staying loyal, with only one out of nearly two hundred assassins returning to Nanda Parabat, critically wounded and very much insane.
In Tim’s opinion? Amity Park raised people similar too but far more prepared than Gothamites, for while Gothamites may have the Fight in their bones, Amity Parkers seem ready to back it up with experience, training, and life experience. 
But then again, Mr. Lancer had been an immigrant to Amity Park, and he was the blueprint of sorts for all of his students who had gone into teaching, much the same for how Batman was the Blueprint for all the other Bats.
____________________________________________
Tagging some Folks included in the Masterpost
@plotwholls @welcometosasakiworld @bonebrokebuddy @transsunmoonwizzard @omnicrafts @vala-dreams @fox-sama97 @tired-mom @kyrianclawraith @americano-psycho @mikami1992 @thecatchat @stealingyourbones @mutable-manifestation @britcision @dxrksong @kawaiikenna @mrowsters @the-gay-florist @thatgaydemigodnerd @0satellite0 @afanofmanyships @pencil-for-a-dog @any-mouse
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 months
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Lonely This Christmas
Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Dark and obsessive behaviour, stalking, smut, dubious consent. Word count: ~4.5k
Summary: On a rare occasion when her and Billy both find themselves home for Christmas at the same time, they admit they've always fancied each other. However, as things develop between them, she soon realises that for Billy it's something much more sinister than a harmless crush. Based on this request.
Author's note: For my darling @heimtathurs. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She walks up the pathway to the front door, the combination of the bitter cold and the handles of the plastic carrier bag cutting into her flesh causing her fingers to sting painfully. The cans in the bag clank noisily against each other as she jostles it from one hand to the other, raising her fist to knock at the door. Her breath comes in hot, cloudy puffs as she shifts from foot to foot, relief flooding through her as she sees the silhouette of her best friend, Lana, appear through the glass in the door.
“Let me in then!” She grumbles, pushing past and handing Lana the bag, once the door is open. “It’s bloody freezing out there!”
It’s December 23rd, and time for her and Lana’s annual tradition of Christmas Eve Eve film night - a ritual that they’ve managed to keep alive since they first met in secondary school, though as the years have passed their taste in films has matured and they can now sit and openly drink beer, instead of needing to sneak a bottle of MD 20:20 back and forth between them beneath a duvet, like they did as teenagers.
The location never changes - always at Lana’s parents’ house - even now that she’s moved out, she always comes home for two weeks over the festive period, and like clockwork the two of them sit on the sofa the evening before Christmas Eve and stare at the TV until they can no longer keep their eyes open.
She shrugs off her coat as she moves through the hallway, into the living room, the warmth from the central heating causing her skin to prickle with the pleasant rise in temperature. Rolling her eyes as she spies the DVD case for Die Hard on the coffee table, she sits heavily down on the sofa, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs beneath her.
“We watched this last year,” she says to Lana, who follows a few paces behind, having deposited the contents of the bag into the fridge in the kitchen, “It’s not even a Christmas film!”
“It’s set at Christmas, so it’s a Christmas film,” Lana shoots back, handing her a can of Stella, before flopping down beside her and cracking open her own. “And Bruce Willis in that vest? I’m gripped.”
She snorts a laugh, opening her own beer and taking a deep sip, enjoying the way the coolness of the bitter liquid fizzes against her tongue.
“How’ve you been anyway? Your mum and dad not in?”
Lana swallows and pokes at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Nah, they’re out for the evening, think they could use a break since face-ache moved back in. I’ve only been back here a few days and he’s already doing my head in.”
She feels her cheeks heat up at the mention of Billy. She’d met Lana’s younger brother when he’d started at the same secondary school as them and, although he was a couple of years below them, she’d always thought he was cute. He was tall, if a little on the lanky side, and his floppy blonde hair and big blue eyes instantly attracted her to him. She’d kept the fact that she fancied him to herself though, feeling it was inappropriate to lust after her best mate’s brother, especially a younger brother.
As the years had passed, Billy’s seemingly permanent cheeky smile had faded into a persistent look of misery. He’d done badly at school, left with failing grades and been rejected each time he’d tried to apply to join the army.
Meanwhile, Lana had flourished, leaving school with a handful of As and Bs. She’d enrolled at college, before enlisting in the army and from there her career in the police force had taken off. She’d moved away from home, had a place of her own and had made her parents proud.
Billy, on the other hand, had struggled with chronic unemployment, eventually falling in with an alt right group who had set him up for a potential terrorist attack. He’d barely escaped the explosion on Cranstead Gardens, and had never really pulled himself back together afterwards. His relationship with his long-term girlfriend, Becky, had broken down and he’d moved out of their flat and back in with his parents, where he’d been living for the last six months.
She hasn’t seen Billy since they left school, but Lana tells her all about him whenever they hang out or chat on the phone. She’s always felt strangely protective of him, where Lana and her parents have given Billy a hard time, she has opted for a softer touch, believing he just needs someone to understand him.
“You can’t be so hard on him,” she says, finger pinging against the ringpull of her can absentmindedly, “he’s been through a lot.”
Lana sighs, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s not paying any rent, never tidies up, isn’t bothering to look for work. We can’t help him, he won’t let us, doesn’t wanna help himself.”
“Where is he at the moment?”
“Skulking around upstairs,” Lana nods towards the staircase. “First Christmas he’s not spent at Becky’s mum’s in a long time and he’s taking it…well, I couldn’t tell you how he’s taking it, he never leaves his bloody room.”
She nods sadly, letting the topic go as they settle back into the sofa cushions as the opening credits for Die Hard begin to roll.
“I’m empty,” Lana says around twenty minutes into the film, shaking her beer can. “You want another?”
“It’s alright, I’ll go,” she tell hers, taking her empty and heading towards the kitchen, eager for a break from a film she had no interest in watching last year, let alone again this year.
She chucks the cans into the recycling bin, before opening the fridge and retrieving two more. She yelps as she closes the door, startled by Billy standing there.
“Jesus, Billy–”
“Sorry, sorry…” he mumbles apologetically, a tinge of pink dusting itself across his cheek bones, as he averts his gaze. “Wasn’t tryna scare ya, just came down to make a cuppa.”
She exhales through her nose, a smile tugging at her lips. “S’alright. How are you getting on, anyway? It’s been a while.”
“Yeah…” he says uncertainly, filling the kettle from the sink and then flicking it on to boil. “Guessing you heard what happened then?”
She nods, placing the cans on the side and wiping the condensation off of her hands onto her jeans. “Lana told me. I’m so sorry, Billy, I really hope you’re okay.”
He says nothing for a moment, dropping a tea bag into a mug, followed by a generous pour of milk.
Milk first. Ugh.
“It’s been hard, y’know,” he finally says, “tryna find work, but there’s fuck all out there. What are you up to these days? You’re looking well.”
The sudden shift in focus doesn’t go unnoticed by her, he’s clearly not keen to talk about himself, but she can’t help but smile at the small compliment, feeling herself grow bashful.
“Got a job at a marketing agency,” she tells him, “nothing fancy, but it pays the rent.”
She’s actually a high ranking executive, living in one of the area’s most expensive flat blocks and has a tidy sum saved away for a deposit to eventually buy a place of her own. She’s unsure of why she’s downplaying her achievements, perhaps on some level she feels she owes it to Billy to not rub her success in his face when he’s clearly having a rough time of it.
The kettle boils and Billy fills his mug, stirring the tea bag around with a spoon, before squeezing it out with his fingers, making her wince - that has to burn, but if it does it doesn’t appear to bother him. He discards the used bag on the side, before turning to her. She can see what Lana means about him not tidying up now, it would have taken two steps for him to put it in the bin, and he hasn’t bothered. The laziness almost makes her want to laugh.
“So you and Lana doing your film night then?” He asks, noisily slurping his tea, then fixing her with a soft, yet unblinking gaze.
The intensity of his baby blue eyes flusters her, and for a moment she forgets what he’s asked, feeling the same old butterflies from their school days return. She clears her throat, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the feeling.
“Y-yeah…I’m surprised you remember. You were a teenager the last time we did one of those with you here,” she smiles warmly.
He nods, keeping a hand wrapped around his mug, pushing off of the kitchen side towards her and suddenly she’s aware of just how tall he’s grown, her throat running dry as she feels the kitchen counter bite into her back as she presses herself against it.
She deflates slightly, letting go of a breath she wasn’t aware when she’d been holding, a little disappointed when he brushes past her, lingering in the kitchen doorway.
“I remember,” he says, a ghost of the lopsided smirk she loved so much from their school days playing upon his full lips, “remember what a racket you and Lana used to make pretending you weren’t pissed on that nasty blue stuff.”
She grins, her gaze dropping as she fiddles with the cuff of her jumper sleeve, thinking back to all those years ago. “Sorry, Billy,” she finally says, looking up at him, “we’ll keep it down tonight.”
“No worries, I’ll be upstairs,” he tells her. “Enjoy your film.”
“Billy?” She calls softly after him as he moves to go back upstairs.
He turns, looking at her questioningly.
“You’re looking well too, by the way.”
The dusting of pink that had appeared across his cheekbones earlier now returns in earnest and he gives a simple nod before turning and heading up the stairs.
She deposits his now cold, used teabag into the bin, then grabs hers and Lana’s beers from the side and goes back into the living room.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, her and Lana finish off Die Hard, then move onto Gremlins.
On the couple of occasions that she goes upstairs to the bathroom she can hear the sound of Billy playing Call of Duty through his closed door. She thinks about knocking to invite him down to join them, but figures if he had wanted to do that he’d have asked in the kitchen, so she leaves it.
They’re halfway through Jingle All the Way when she feels her eyelids start to grow heavy. She leans forward, placing her half drunk can on the coffee table and turns to Lana.
“I’m gonna have to push off home, babe, I can’t keep my eyes open.”
Lana nods, pausing the film and sitting forward with a yawn. “Yeah, should probably get to bed myself. You gonna be alright getting home? Need me to call you a cab?”
“Nah, it’s only down the road, I’ll be fine walking,” she insists as she puts her shoes and coat back on.
“Alright, well, text me when you get home, yeah?” Her friend says, pulling her into a hug.
“Course,” she smiles, hugging her back and heading towards the front door. “Have a great Christmas. See you for New Year’s.”
Lana waves her off and as the front door closes behind her, she’s about to head back down the pathway when the glowing ember of the end of a lit cigarette catches her eye.
She turns to see Billy leaning against the side of the house, smoking a roll up.
“You off?” He asks, exhaling a plume of smoke that’s made larger by the cold that clings to the puff of his breath.
“Yeah. Was good to see you, Billy,” she says, trying to ignore how her pulse races at the way the soft glow of the street lamp illuminates the sharpness of his side profile.
“I’ll give you a lift, if you want?” He offers, crushing his cigarette beneath his foot.
“You don’t have to do that, I’m only twenty minutes down the road,” she says, suddenly feeling awkward, putting her hands in her coat pocket.
“And you could be five minutes down the road if I drive,” he retorts with a smirk.
She sighs, her gaze softening. Not having to walk home in the cold would be nice, actually. “Yeah, go on then.”
Billy walks around to the front door, opens it and fishes around on the key hooks until he has the set he needs. They walk down the road until they reach a red VW Polo and he unlocks it.
“New car?” She asks nonchalantly, having expected to see his old silver Vauxhall Cavalier.
“Nah, this is mum’s. Haven’t had a car since…well…y’know.”
Since it blew up. Fuck, how could she be so thoughtless?!
“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry, I–”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Do you mind just giving me a minute before you get in?”
She nods, keeping her hands in her pockets, watching as feels all around the car’s interior, checking inside the glove box and under the seats.
Checking for explosives.
He finally settles behind the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, attempting to calm his breaths.
“Honestly, Billy, I don’t mind walking…” she says quietly.
He looks up at her, as though just remembering she’s there. “No…no, it’s fine. I want to do it. It’s good for me, I have to.”
“Can I get in now?” She asks, giving Billy a reassuring smile.
He nods, and she walks around to the passenger’s side, climbing in and buckling her seatbealt.
Billy starts the car and they drive in silence for a few moments before he finally speaks.
“You must think I’m such a loser,” he mutters, fingers flexing against the steering wheel.
She turns slightly in her seat, shocked by what he’s said. “I’ve never thought you were a loser. Please don’t say that.”
“I’ve got no job, no car, I live with my mum and dad, can’t even drive without needing to check I won’t fucking blow up first,” he scoffs, “don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not!” She protests. “You’ve been through so much, Billy, you need to give yourself a break.”
His lips quirk, he pulls a hand away from the steering wheel to pull at the collar of his t-shirt. “S’not just what happened though, brought it on myself dad says. I’ve always been a loser, ever since school.”
“I never thought you were,” she assures him gently, “I actually really fancied you back then.”
Billy draws in a sudden breath, glancing sideways at her as he pulls up outside of her block of flats.
How does he know where she lives? Lana must have told him.
“And now?” He asks, turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to look at her.
It feels as though all the air has left the car suddenly, as they stare at each other. She isn’t sure what possesses her, perhaps the three cans of lager she’s drunk throughout the evening, but she finds herself leaning over the centre console and pushing her lips against his.
He reciprocates, soft and unsure at first, but quickly gains confidence, his mouth moving against hers with more urgency.
She cups his face, her fingers grazing over the stubble at the corner of his jaw that he always seems to miss when shaving and she smiles into the kiss, enjoying its roughness against her fingertips.
Billy seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and she moans softly as it slides against her own.
Their pupils are wide with lust, the windows of the car fogged up when they finally part for breath, keeping their foreheads pressed together.
He strokes his large hand over the back of her head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come up?”
She swallows thickly, not wanting to reject him, but knowing it’s not a good idea to rush things. “Not tonight, Billy, I–”
He jerks away, hurt flashing across his features, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry, was stupid to think you’d want that…”
“No, no, it’s not that!” She says, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, running her thumb over his scarred knuckles. “We’ve waited so long for this, I don’t wanna rush it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Can I text you then?”
“I’d like that,” she looks at him through hooded eyes, “let me give you my number.”
“I’ve got it, don’t worry.”
Oh. Something else Lana must have given him.
“Alright then. Well, goodnight.”
She leans over and pecks him on the lips, then exits his car.
When she goes to sleep that night it’s with a smile upon her face, knowing that her childhood crush feels the same way that she does. In the back of her mind, she knows that Lana will go mad when she finds out, but that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she gets to it.
She is less than enthused when she awakens the next day realising it’s Christmas Eve and she needs to make her annual visit to her great aunt’s for room temperature sherry, mince pies and questions about why she isn’t married with children yet.
Her face lights up when she sees a text on her phone from an unknown number and realises it’s Billy.
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She grins excitedly to herself, calling her great aunt and feigning a migraine, before showering and readying herself for her day with Billy.
True to his word in his text, the buzzer to her flat sounds an hour later and he is at her door a few moments later.
It’s awkward at first, as they both stand there sizing each other up, unsure of what to say or do, until he takes the initiative and steps forward to kiss her.
It all feels so easy and natural, as though it’s something they should always have been doing, and when he takes her hand in his as they walk into town she can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at how perfectly her hand slots into his.
They walk around the Christmas market together, hand in hand, drinking mulled wine. For the first time since they were at school together, she sees Billy laugh, a genuine, happy laugh. He makes jokes, a sparkle returning to his eyes and he looks so relaxed, she is finally able to see his potential again, all that he could be if he wasn’t constantly wallowing in self pity, lurking in Lana’s shadow and taking his parents’ criticisms to heart.
When he walks her home that evening, she doesn’t hesitate to invite him up. Gentle affirmations of “I had a nice time today” rapidly escalate to needy kisses as they tug at each other’s clothes. This is the Billy that she wants, and she sees no point in waiting any longer.
His large hands eagerly grasp at her hips as she pushes him down onto the sofa, straddling his lap.
They are a frenzied clash of lips, teeth and tongue, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling his head back slightly to mouth at his jaw and neck. He groans at the sensation, hips bucking up to meet hers.
When he slides down his tracksuit bottoms and boxers to free the ample hardness that has been pressing against her thigh for the last five minutes, she lifts herself, meaning to remove her tights. She gasps when his long fingers pluck at the crotch, tearing them open and pushing her knickers to the side.
His digits swipe through the wetness of her folds and she shudders against him. “You on the pill?” He asks gruffly.
She nods in affirmation, a whine escaping her as he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, slowly pressing into her.
The sounds he makes against her ear as he thrusts up into her are lewd, but with every grunt and breathy moan she clenches around him. This is a purely carnal act of desire, fulfilling years’ worth of pent up animalistic need. There will be plenty of time for gentle lovemaking, but right now she just needs to feel him, and judging by the way slams her down to meet each quick thrust, jaw slack and brow furrowed, she is certain he feels the same way.
The throbbing of him inside of her, as he spills deep within her, drives her over the edge and she peaks with a strangled cry, tightening around him in quick successive pulses.
They remain like that for a long while afterwards, resting against each other on the sofa, in the darkness of her living room.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, you’ve got no idea,” he whispers eventually, once his breathing has returned to normal.
“Me too,” she whispers.
“I wanna stay, but–”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Billy, it’s alright. You should get home before your mum gives you an earful.”
They pull unsteadily apart, adjusting their clothes, and she walks him to the door.
“I’ll text you, yeah?” He says.
“Yeah,” she smiles before kissing him softly, “Merry Christmas, Billy.”
“You an’ all,” he murmurs, pulling her into a tight hug and then walking away.
Christmas Day is uneventful. Presents and a roast at her parents’, followed by an afternoon of board games and films.
She gets a happy Christmas text from Lana, and smiles when she gets one from Billy too - the first he’s ever sent her.
By the time Boxing Day rolls around, she’s already thoroughly fed up with her family and eager to be back in her own space. She grins when her phone buzzes with a message from Billy.
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She pulls out her phone, thinking carefully about what to send to her best friend, before typing a message.
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She arrives at Billy and Lana’s parents’ house an hour later and is given a warm welcome by everyone. It’s strange not being able to interact properly with Billy, considering how close they’ve become so quickly over the last few days, however, he carries himself with a confidence she’s never seen him have in front of his family before.
He stands a little straighter, actually bothers to make eye contact when he talks to people. It spreads a warmth within her chest to see him no longer looking so downtrodden and defeatist, she can no longer sense the anger that used to simmer just below the surface like she used to be able to.
His eyes find hers whenever no one’s looking and she can’t help the smiles that she directs his way.
The leftovers have been dished up and they’ve been sitting around the TV for an hour when she goes upstairs to use the bathroom.
Noticing Billy’s bedroom door ajar on her way back downstairs, she can’t resist a peek inside. She’d never dared go in when she’d come to see Lana when they were younger. She pushes the door fully open, nose wrinkling at the rumpled bed sheets and assortment of dirty socks and boxers that litter the floor, but smiles as she casts her eye over the Oasis poster on the wall and the acoustic guitar that leans against the chest of drawers.
She twiddles absentmindedly with the PS4 controller, when a box that’s been shoved haphazardly beneath the bed catches her eye. She drags it out, pulling out a scrapbook that sits on the top.
Her heart hammers in her chest, her blood feeling as though it runs ice cold as she flips through it. It’s filled with old school photos of her, plus newer pictures that have clearly been printed off from her social media accounts.
Rummaging further into the box she pulls out items she’d assumed she’d either lost or that Lana had borrowed on the occasions she’d stayed over - there are scrunchies, old lip balms, even a pair of her underwear. Disgust causes bile to rise in her throat, a mixture of fear and disbelief quickly spreads its way through her body.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Billy’s voice says quietly from the doorway, causing her to gasp as she looks up in fright. “Doesn’t matter now though, don’t need that shit anymore, not now I’ve got the real thing.”
“Billy,” she pleads, her voice shaking, “what is all this?”
“I’ve always wanted you, never thought you’d feel the same though. She looked like you, y’know,” he tells her, stepping closer and shutting the door behind him.
“Who?” Tendrils of icy fear spread to her belly, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, yet she stays rooted to her spot on the bed.
“Becky,” he says simply, “she was the spit of you. Only reason I went out with her, to be honest. I was gutted when she ended things, but she doesn’t matter now. Don’t need some cheap knock off, not when I have you.”
“Please, Billy, you’re scaring me,” she whispers, tears pricking her eyes.
“Everything’s gonna be alright. Job hunting, the bomb, none of it matters because I’ve got you.”
“Listen to yourself, this isn’t you,” she pleads, backing up on the bed away from him as he towers over her.
“You’ve seen how much better I am with you, you can’t take that away. I need you. And I make you feel good too. Look, you just need a reminder.”
He looms over her on the mattress, his hand darting between her legs and she whimpers.
“Billy, no, please…”
She wants to scream, to cry out and make him stop, but the thought of attracting the attention of Lana and her parents and them coming up here and seeing all of this is more than she can stand. So she lays there, lets Billy slide his hand up her skirt and into her underwear, hating the way her body responds to his trust.
“See?” He murmurs again the shell of her ear. “Only I can make you feel like this. Everything is gonna go my way now that you’re mine, you’ll see.”
Her vision goes watery, a combination of tears and building pleasure causing the poster on the opposite wall to blur.
She tenses as his fingers work her quickly towards her climax and she screws her eyes shut, shuddering with a quiet whine as she falls apart.
“There you go,” he coos gently, “I’ve got you now, and I’m never letting you go.”
The way he says it sends a shiver down her spine. Billy is a man with nothing to lose. He means it. He’ll never let her go.
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