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#camila cabello drink
yours-stevie · 18 days
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Camila x Bacardí 🍸
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i97fairy · 2 years
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like or reblog if you save/use <3
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neopuppy · 8 months
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Shameless (M)
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pairing. step-son Jeno x step-mom reader
genre. stepcest, infidelity, Jeno hates his dad, young trophy wife step-mom
wc. 10k
warnings. dubcon, profanity, exercise/body talk, Jeno has a thing for sweat, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
now playing. Shameless//Camila Cabello
smut warnings. masturbation, mommy kink, coercion, a lot of breast focus, reader has large breasts, oral, improper use of a cucumber.., raw fucking, noncon filming, wet messy etc..
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“She’s a little too young, even for you.”
Jeno’s tongue drags along the backs of his teeth peering over his father’s shoulder for the last 10 minutes as he idly scrolled through various photos and short video clips. Most innocent enough, cute selfies showing off your pretty fanned out eyelashes, a new lip gloss shade, or just an adorable smile.
The videos his dad took time to watch made Jeno’s breath hitch, looping the few seconds of you showing off a new bikini for summer, filming yourself in the mirror and turning to show off a scandalous yet feminine pattern right above the indentation of bikini bottom scrunched between your pert buttcheeks.
“I work very hard, son, believe I deserve a pretty young thing.” He snickers, having noticed the youngers reflection on his phone screen a few minutes ago. “Something about this one..”
“Where’d you find her? Another sugar baby app you had to pay to join?” Jeno crosses his arms, glaring daggers into the back of his father’s head. Pathetic, working hard for what? To blow your funds on women who probably gag over your shoulder while you fuck them and lose your stamina after two minutes?
His father chuckles, swiping the social media app shut to open his messages. “You’re going to hate this but she approached me first.” With a proud smile he turns to face his son, showing off back and forth messaging between the two of you. Majority of the context is similar to how two cute shy teens would chat, nothing racy despite knowing his father’s likely buying time to pounce and unleash an arsenal of embarrassing boomer dick pics.
“You’re lying.”
Standing up, his father sneers, a smile hidden somewhere behind his resentful expression. “Believe it or not, your old man’s still got it. Now, if you don’t mind— I have a date with your soon-to-be step-mom.” He winks, purposefully bumping roughly into his son’s shoulder on his way out of the living room; leaving Jeno standing there rubbing at the spot mindlessly, jaw tight as he recounts your username to conduct his own investigation.
His first summer home in years and this is what his asshole father wants to pull? Jeno grimaces, plopping down on the couch to commence his search and find your other social media platforms.
“Twenty-fucking-two? He’s out of his mind.” Muttering to himself, he quickly taps in and out of various videos. The fact that you follow dance trends is enough to make his eyes roll, concentrating harder than he should have to on your face and the quirky silly wide eyes you make at the camera instead of the obscene way your breasts bounce freely beneath a much too tight and thin crop top, braless. Of course.
Jeno bets you did approach his dad first, he can picture it now. A sweet little helpless thing miraculously bumping into him at Whole Foods or some other ridiculously overpriced grocery store, batting your big doe eyes irresistibly after calculating the worth of the ludicrous gold Rolex adorning his wrist. No doubt adding the sum of his Gucci loafers and Dior sunnies; undoubtedly pushed up into his salt and pepper hair as he read over the nutritional information of a new all-natural all-organic sugar free gluten free energy drink.
You probably struck up conversation from there, perched yourself on his dad’s arm striking up flirtatious charm about the product in his hands, just to lean in closer and smash your ample chest against his arm.
Jeno clicks his phone shut frustrated, balling his fist open and shut to watch the blood flow down and redden his skin.
It infuriates him how easily his father continues to win, after the divorce his view of the man he once admired could never be repaired. What he once respected and admired all came crumbling down as his mother broke down crying in his arms after years of pretending to act dumb and not notice late evenings at the office, extended company trips, or the stains of lipstick shades she’d never wear and remnants of musky oud that simply never complimented her skin.
Jeno rests his eyes, ignoring the itching ache in his chest. What could he do anyway? What did his dad have to lose that money couldn’t buy him a new and better version of.
A house? A car? More designer brands and jewelry to mark his status in the upper class?
It only took a month, one fucking month, and the answer became clear as his dad lifted you up by your trim waist hidden under ugly burly veiny paws. The smile across his face so arrogant and cocky, hoisting his young little play thing up in the pool just to watch your beautiful round chest bounce in his face beneath triangles of material hardly containing you.
Jeno can’t deny he gets something out of it too, something he stores away for later along with the cheerful sweet moaned giggles you let out after splashing his father’s face with water and demanding in the most helpless submissive tone to be put down. Bet his dad loves that, in fact, he knows he does. It didn’t even take a full two weeks before you moved in with a fat diamond rock on your ring finger. The sight of it nearly blinded him when it caught the glare of light.
Jeno knows he can’t keep up with his father’s wealth, not yet. Material things aren’t his strength either, but as he jerks off into his palm by his bedroom window facing the backyard where you’ve taken to performing your morning pilates, his eyes concentrate on your insane flexibility. The tip of your head near your feet keeping your taut ass up for him to salivate over, and now he knows one thing for sure.
He needs to fuck his step-mom.
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Jeno’s usually a morning person, but leave it to his father to ruin that for him.
“Kiss kiss.”
Disgusting.
Heavily wrinkled lips pout in your face, his dad slithered around your waist from behind as you finished packing your new husband's lunch. Really, it’s repulsive to watch unfold every morning. The only perk being the smile you beam Jeno’s way with your much too chipper and excited ‘Good Morning!’ As you skip to the fridge to pour some of your lemon water into a glass, breasts all round and taunting from where he sits; nipples always hard, piercing through your collection of various nighties and tank tops.
“Anything for breakfast? I can whip up some pancakes real quick if you want.”
Jeno tries to hide his grin, as much as he wishes to act like a brat— he can’t. The thing is, you’re lovely in every sense of the word. Too lovely, doting, and appealing, never once causing him annoyance.
He wants to scoff, demand you whip up the most delicious fluffiest pancakes, take your top off and throw the batter down your bare chest before laughing in your face to clean it up; lifting up one breasts at a time with fat wads of tears in your eyes as you plead for him to stop— stop being mean, stop smearing more of the mess he’s caused you to make across your lips.
“Nothing for me.” Jeno motions to the protein shake resting in his grip. “I’m trying to lean out.”
“Lean out?” Your smiles too soft, lifting to one side with surprise. “I can’t imagine you have anything but muscle left, when's the last time you had your body fat measured?”
“Ah, you don’t know because you haven’t seen me shirtless, yet.” Jeno says, more as an invitation to get a rise out of you, having to swallow back a sigh at your lack of response; not even a hint of interest. “Need to slim down my waist a bit to really achieve the shape I want.”
“Well if you ask me..” Jeno waits, appreciating how lightly you float around the kitchen to gather your fruits and toppings to decorate your yogurt bowl with. “You look really fit, your waist is practically non-existent.”
“How much do you weigh?” He asks abruptly, evidently throwing you off by the way your gaze widens in shock and a stutter passes between your lips, quickly averting your attention back to the half chopped strawberry in front of you.
“Wha— uhm..”
“Sorry, that was rude.” Jeno smiles, awkwardly scratching his nape. “I was wondering if it’s less than what I can press.”
A dazed gleam coats your iris, staring back dumbfounded by the image of your step-son working his hips up with crossed eyebrows, using all the force and strength of his muscle mass to lift.
“How much can you do?” You ask, clearing your throat and refocusing on your breakfast. The question more to keep up with the conversation before you run off to hide in your bedroom.
Jeno lets out a breathy laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked, don’t know what I was thinking.” Pushing up from the kitchen island to stand, he pauses before making his way to exit; having taken to a grueling AM workout after downing his shakes. “I can definitely press double, if not more than what you weigh.”
He doesn’t miss the way your hands come to a halt, gripping around the knife in your hold, eyes silently falling shut with a deep breath.
“You should come join me some time, bet I can lift you easily.”
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Jeno’s grateful at least that his father has no choice but to work morning to evening five days a week to earn the lavish lifestyle he’s achieved. He’s thankful because you love to perform your afternoon stretches in the backyard, the landscape his bedroom window coincidentally faces.
“So flexible.” He mumbles to himself, forehead resting against the window frame where he stands with his hand buried inside of his boxers, mindlessly thumbing at the slit of his cock for a hint of relief. Your mid-day sessions only last about over an hour, depending on how far you want to push yourself.
Sure, the splits always made his balls tighten up, having to slow down the pace and pull at his length, circling the base to quell the sudden urge to throw you up and down on his cock fully spread out.
But really, the extended puppy pose takes him over the edge every time.
Jerking off from his bedroom window has become unsatisfactory, the best part is really after when you walk in with your smile high off endorphins, gently patting the sweat that’s accumulated on your gorgeous décolleté.
“Oh Jeno, I thought you’d gone out.”
He hums, following your movements around the kitchen to replenish your hydration, noting the beads of sweat continuously rolling down between the dip in your back. His teeth bite down on the tip of his tongue, tempted to shove you up against the fridge and lick them all clean before falling to his knees to suck the dark patch between your thighs.
“Good workout?” Jeno never tries to hide that he’s checking you out, he makes it obvious everyday. “Looks like you really worked up a sweat.”
“Oh yeah, it’s so hot outside.” The lack of eye contact you’re able to maintain indicates discomfort, judging by the way you try to clean off your stomach and arms.
“My dad has a thing about sweat, right?” Jeno offhandedly mentions, not missing the awkward twitch in your cheek to hide a grimace. “That’s why you’re always so clean by the time he gets home? The water bill has to be through the roof with how often he has you doing laundry.. not that he cares.”
“I suppose his nose is a bit sensitive.”
“He always complained about how my mom smelled, her hair after a day of not washing, the smell of the dinner she cooked him on her hands still.” He continues, enjoying your lack of reply. “He’s picky about a lot of things, I’m sure you know what I mean.”
A fake smile shuts down the conversation, nodding toward the staircase. “It’s time for my shower.”
Jeno nods, shamelessly eyeing the stains of wetness under your large breasts, pushed together even tighter by the binding sports bra meant to keep you held in place through vigorous activity. “Wouldn’t want daddy to get mad now, would we?”
A wash of embarrassment has you scurrying away from your step-son quickly, leaving behind the small towel drenched in your sweat that immediately catches his attention.
Jeno definitely inherited the same sensitive sense of smell from his father, but unlike the old man he’d become more addicted to the different places his nose had led him to. A smirk lifts his lips, tucking the towel up above his mouth to deeply inhale. It’s mind-numbing how delectable you smell, he even sucks on the remnants of damp that hasn’t fully evaporated, quietly mewling within his chest.
The telltale sound of the upstairs shower from his father’s bedroom tears him from slipping into euphoric madness, cock already half-erect as he trudges up the stairs and finds himself tip-toeing into your bedroom, the bathroom door only softly creaking as he makes space to peer through. The daily routine of watching you scrub down every inch of skin, so smooth, hairless, meticulously shaving clean each short hint of stuble. His father must be real demanding of how his little stay at home house-wife should present herself, of course.
Bunching the nearly dried towel inside of his briefs, Jeno groans between clenched lips, rubbing the cotton fabric up and down his length, his heart rate pumping up to a high-speed when you lift a leg to reach deep between your thighs and leave the fleshy area hidden there completely bald.
That will change once he manages to infiltrate, he’ll make you change for him.
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“You should go out son, I don’t want you hanging around the house.” Jeno’s dad doesn’t even bother to mask his disdain, shoving a wad of cash at his chest. “Scram.”
That would be too easy, it’s not as if his friends haven’t been blowing up his phone about some party tonight. He’ll plan to leave later and miss the sound of his father’s pig-like moaning squeals when he takes five minutes to fuck you. For now, his ass isn’t moving from one of the pool chairs, opting for the more shaded area under a large canopy to watch from.
Why would he want to miss out on the display you put on for his old man, stepping out in a tight little two piece bikini that does nothing to cover any of your curves. Jeno’s cock twitches as you slowly step out of your robe and his dad whistles making grabby hands at you to enter the pool. “Jump in, baby doll.”
Sick. God he hates hearing that old worn voice order your around. He hates how you giggle and enter from the steps, giving him a half-assed jump only for your breasts to lift up under your chin before the water immerses your perfect body, lifting back out pouring cascades of wet down your shoulders and arms before his dad snatches you up by the waist. “That’s my girl.”
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five—
Jeno takes a deep breath through his nose, an irritating pinch forming between his eyebrows the more you indulge his father, dawning the smile only reserved for your husband: hugging him close between your mounds of breasts as he releases a deep moan and licks up your neck.
His stomach churns the longer he watches, shoving himself to stand and move to the jacuzzi where he can’t help but to still watch from, ignoring the daggers his father’s eyes shoot at him on his way in. He won’t dare enter the pool while the two of you canoodle in there, preferring to stay clueless as to what your lower halves could be up to, the sight of his dad’s thick ugly hands cupping your breasts from is behind already enough to make him gag.. maybe if not for the shocked moan you let out, wrapping around his wrists shyly. “Babe.. we’re not alone.”
You whisper, but Jeno traces the words from your lips, ducking lower into the jacuzzi until one of the jets rumbles against his stomach, chin grazing under the hot water.
“Ignore him.” His dad could give two fucks, squeezing under your chest with more firmness, pushing them together creating a long dip of cleavage.
Jeno can see the lack of comfort in your hidden gaze, keeping your eyelids lowered with a demure embarrassed smile, saving face only for your husband's pleasure. He knows if you couldn’t sense another pair of eyes on you, you’d be your usual bubbly coquettish self, flouncing around burying his dad’s face in your chest, giggling all loud and cute.
The thrill of watching your discomfort escalate makes his cock kick up, lowering down onto his knees for only his eyes to peer over the jacuzzi’s ledge, noticing the way your gaze skirts by quickly to not give him enough acknowledgment to feel seen, but to stay aware of just how much your step-son can see. It’s easy from the angle to remove his father’s existence behind you, especially when he shifts closer to the ledge and one of the jets blasts right against his groin.
A shiver runs up his chest, biting down on his bottom lip as he stays transfixed on your flimsily covered breasts abused and bounced around. He has to hold back a curse when he finally unties his swim trunks, tugging free his length right in front of the burst of bubbled water. The pressure pushing out of the jet breaks against his slit, choking down a groan when your gaze finally meets his, mouth tense and ashamed.
He can’t keep a smile off his face, tugging harder at himself as your forehead wrinkles together, breathily arched up by the force pushing your breasts up and down against the splash of blue chlorine water.
The water around him boils against his skin even hotter, short of breath under the heat, short of breath from the image of your lips parting open. Jeno imagines you can bend your neck forward and wrap around his girth passing between your tits, it wouldn't be hard to reach anyway. Jerking up, he pushes against the jet hole, cock instantly engulfed by an intense amount of pressure blowing out against him. The push and pull only causes his stomach to clench, sink in and hollow out his middle-section.
You were doing a better job at ignoring him before, unable to stop for seconds now to watch your step-son’s facial features contort together… he can’t, he wouldn’t..
Nostrils flare, shoulders hidden under the bubbly foam around him, jerking mindlessly into the jet. It’s like breaking a dam over and over again, the pressure of release spilling out against his thick size, the only thing missing being your convulsing slick warmth squeezing and fighting to push him free as he thrusts in harder, fucking you full beyond capacity you can handle.
Jeno could care less about the predicament he’s landed in here, stroking his cock without control like some wild animal, succumbing to his desires and needs to bend you into all kinds of positions. He knows he can too after weeks of watching you move your body bonelessly, get you twisted up like a pretzel, face down ass up, legs behind your head full-nelson you flat on your back with his dick full slotted inside, grinding down just to watch you fail to squirm away. He’d leave you with no room to move, let alone breathe, fat tits pushed up under your chin, jiggling up and down and up and down with each thrust.
“Fuck.” He’s close now, tongue lolling out at the gasp that hitches in your throat. Siren-like eyes glazed over from the constant manipulation your breasts have been put through. What a fucking pervert, watching you struggle to collect yourself and maintain your etiquette.
Does his dad even savor the way every inch of your body tastes? Does he suck on your tits until your nipples pebble up rock hard and dig into the roof of his mouth? Jeno never see’s a mark on you, no… daddy doesn’t play rough with his toys, does he.
Jeno would though, fuck he’d have you screaming to the high heavens. He can’t hide the bob of his head the closer he reaches, catching your fully widened eyes stuck on him, and your bikini top finally coming undone after minutes of tugging and kneading.
Hands too large to be yours come up just a second too late to cover over your exposed nipples allowing Jeno the chance to see how swollen and pert and big they’ve gotten, probably prodding at his dad’s hideous rough palms.
The wet bounce of fat under his control has him emptying out into the jet, most of his release blown away from the powerful stream mixing in with the rest of the ramped jacuzzi water.
He has to calm himself, overheated from the drop back down to reality, overheated from the sun burning down onto the already steamy hot tub of water. Taking his time, he’s lazy to exit, patting off his reddened chest and stinging skin to a somewhat dry finish. The heat hardly subsides with eyes on him, specifically yours..
“I said scram you damn brat.”
His father’s shrill tone gives him an excuse to glance over, most of your frame hidden by his wide back stretched around you to hug you against the pool wall for discretion to tie your top back up.
“Yeah yeah, don’t wait up for me.” Not that he would, Jeno didn’t really mean that for his father anyway. The lingering gaze grazing down his body taking in every crevice and dip of bare naked muscle though, part of him hopes that you will wait up. He means it though, even with one more glance your direction before heading inside, finding your eyes for only a millisecond.
Don’t wait up mommy, I’ll be too busy fucking any hole presented to me, maybe even multiple. Anything to curb the incessant growing need to get you alone, slam you down and fuck you until you’re ripping that ring off your finger.
Jeno has to admit, he’s impressed by how long you’ve held it together, managed to keep up your composure around him despite his best efforts to make you start to crack.
Soon. Real soon.
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“You’re around the house way too much, either get a job or get out.” Jeno’s father barged into his bedroom after that little pool escapade. Throwing pamphlets for schools across the country at his face. “I put enough money in your bank account, it’s time for you to quit fucking around and make something of yourself.
Jeno knows deep down inside his father’s ulterior motivation came from an all too pretty adorable wife, evidently unhappy with the way his son has decided to forgo his gym membership in favor of walking around shirtless dripping in sweat after using the home equipment.
He couldn’t put up much of an argument with the old man. It’s not entirely your fault he found his ass on a train 7 hours away the next week, just in time for a new semester.
Sure, it’s not entirely your fault, he can’t put all of that insecure assholes blame on you.
But it is your fault, and that long silent train ride gave him all the time to ponder, reflect, plot, devise the next step. Work harder, fuck more, leave you with no choice but to wipe the drool from your chin at the mere sight of your step-son.
If only it could be that easy. He really can’t stand how reluctant you are to trip and fall, landing right into the palm of his hands breasts first. Can’t stand the way you still parade around town proudly introducing yourself as the Mrs. Lee. The side-eyes and whispers never affect you, too happy to give a damn with each guiltless swipe of your husband’s black American Express.
God, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand you.
Jeno really can’t stand his step-mom.
Not because you’re awful or even a bitch, no.. in fact, you’re perfect. Too perfect for his nasty cheater asshole father who could care less for his mother, now ex-wife.
“Ah Jeno, it’s so nice to have you home again.” Your sweet cheerful voice interrupts his fuming thoughts, the back of his head instantly relaxing in the mound of your breasts as you circle his neck and lean down to hug him. “You hungry? I stocked up on all of your favorites.”
Nuzzling back into your warm embrace, he sighs, eyes drifting shut to inhale the notes of peach and cucumber wafting from your freshly cleansed skin. Supple soft radiant skin he knows you spend meticulous hours of the day exfoliating, lotioning, massaging with oil only for your useless husband to rub his old disgusting rough hands upon.
“Missed cooking for me?” He mumbles, shifting to bury his nose in the column of your throat to fully immerse himself in your savory scent.
“Look how skinny you’ve come back, that school not feeding you properly or something?” You reprimand, patting over his flat stomach lightly. “I have to make sure to keep you full for the next couple of weeks before your break ends.”
Nudging the top of his head with your chin, you continue into the kitchen, still in your silky pajama set. Something short, hardly covering your abundant chest, dad wouldn’t have his young little trophy wife any other way, always ready for the taking.
Jeno can only imagine how many mornings his father has snuck up on you making breakfast, bending you over to fill you up before heading to work. Fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to even touch you, let alone any of those fake moans you must practice to please him.
“Are you worried about me?” Jeno’s chair scratches across the kitchen tile, slowly lifting up to get a better look at your buttcheeks squeezed by your panties, innocently bent over in search of a pan. “Maybe the school cafeteria doesn’t serve anything that satisfies my hunger.”
“I’ll fix that,” too distracted on your hunt for the right spices and oils, you fail to notice how close Jeno’s gotten, hovering behind you with a smirk as your robe slips from your shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted to go to school so far away. You could be eating my home cooking everyday if you’d just stayed local.”
“…is that so?” A grin teases at his lips, halting your hand from adjusting your robe to push it down left to fall at your feet.
A shiver runs up your spine sensing his breath fanning across your shoulder, palms smoothing down your waist to your hips. “Jeno?”
“I’m hungry, mommy.”
“Jeno? Wha—“ your hips stay locked in place, shoved against the kitchen counter by the stronger ones behind you knocking forward to trap you.
“I missed you too, mommy.” Shoving his hips forward, Jeno’s girth slots between your flimsily covered ass, rutting quickly to lodge between and create delicious friction against his cock. “You know what I really missed?”
“Je-Jeno.. what are you..”
“Last summer when you moved in, every different ridiculously tiny bikini you wore around the pool. Your fat tits barely contained, just how dad likes it huh? I guess we have that in common.” Keeping you held against the counter with his hips grinding in circles against your ass, hands find a way to your shoulders, swiftly dropping down the straps of your nightgown leaving your breast to bounce out freely. The morning crisp air circulating around the house breezes past your nipples, hardening the buds instantaneously.
“Sweetie, this.. this isn’t right, your dad—“
“Is an asshole.” Jeno bites, cupping your breasts that overflow in his hold, the fat squeezing between his digits pushing out a low groan from deep within his chest. “Fucking decrepit dickhead, bet he can’t even get hard from this alone? I’ve seen that erectile dysfunction prescription.. can’t even take care of you and fuck you right can he, mommy?”
To emphasize his point, Jeno’s hips swerve, fucking forward vigorously for the thick shape of his rod to slam between your panty covered behind, night gown bunched up over your hips from his incessant humping. “Can’t tell me a pretty young thing like you doesn’t miss it, hours and hours of getting the life fucked out of you.”
The kneading and massaging at your chest accompanied with your step-sons evidently large size has you panting, hands gripping the kitchen counter for some relief. Shaking your head, you try to ignore the way your hips rut back to find his, biting back a moan from escaping. “Jeno, please.. sweetie, d-don’t—your dad..”
A rough slap under your breast silences you, the fat rippling under Jeno’s strength as he delivers another slap, working in succession to bounce and smack each with his chin perched over your shoulder rambling on and on about how good you look like this. Perfectly pliant, needy, face full of ecstasy all thanks to your step-son.
“Dad has great taste, I’ll give the old fuck that.” Jeno snickers, teeth digging into the vein lining the side of your throat. “Had me hard as a rock fucking into my fist all summer, tried to get over you by filling up any hole.. couldn’t get your pretty body off my mind.”
“Jeno, baby.. w-we can’t. Your dad, he’ll.. he’ll kill you.”
Breath staggers against your neck at the term of endearment, hips fucking against you in earnest. “You think I fucking care about him? What about you? What about this mess you’ve made mommy? How can you do this to me? Tempt me all the time with these perfect fucking tits and expect me to leave you alone now?”
“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry Jeno.. I didn’t—“
“Baby, I’m your baby.” Jeno pinches your nipples roughly, pulling and slapping forcing a loud echo of skin on skin to barrel across the kitchen. Jackhammering his hips faster against your ass. “Tell me to stop, don’t fucking tell me what dad wants. You tell me to stop.”
“B-baby… I-I…” a sad pathetic cry sounds, dropping forward loosely as your thighs tremble erratically, held up only the rough grip on your chest undoubtedly leaving behind marks of nails and bruising.
“Must be true.” Jeno grunts, shoving your underwear down. “Like father, like son.”
“Jeno, please, you can’t do this!” It’s harder now to fight him off, roughly taken by your chest, fondled like some little doll only there to pleasure him. “If—if he finds out—“
“Don’t worry about that senial bastard, he wouldn’t be able to read a sign even if it was spelled out for him.” Your step-son doesn’t relent, fucking against your panties roughly until the his stiffed up cock shoves the material between your ass. “You’re so wet for me, you feel that? Feel me?”
Jeno thrusts forward angling his size right between your poorly clenched thighs, ass bouncing back against his pelvic bone. “Think you can handle that? Too big for you mommy?” He reaches down to whip out his cock, expertly dragging his fully hard length out to slot against your soaked covered core. The contact makes his eyes roll up, long eyelashes fluttering rapidly impairing his vision for a minute as his size drags against the wet shape of your cunt.
“Oh fuck fuck.” Jeno refuses to cum like this, even if his stomach muscles contort and suck in viciously. He swallows down a hissed breath, jerking back to fuck against your drenched panties in earnest.
“J-Jeno.. please!”
“You want it, huh? Wanna get fucked by a big fat cock finally?” Jeno bites back a laugh, mostly a groan as the tip of his cock ruts against your clit. “Daddy can’t fuck you the way you need, can’t get you off. When’s the last time you had a real orgasm? Not that whiny shit you fake for him.”
Inner-turmoil loses to your arousal, forced to slide up and down what feels like a forearm between your thighs. Your good sense dissipates the more your cunt spreads around the girth pushing between your folds, aching to feel each pulsating vein lining your step-son’s length drag against your wet slick pussy.
“I’m… fuck Jeno..” between gasps and choked back moans, you weakly give him a thrusts back, faintly meeting his motion to rut against your clit and create a mind-numbing friction.
One of his palms lands against your ass like a crack of a whip, sending your chest to collide forward and press against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. “What did you call me?”
Gathering your underwear, Jeno pulls the material aside, sucking spit away that's gathered around his thirsty tongue upon seeing your cunt so ready to be wrecked and fucked. “Look at that tight hole, like a virgin. No way daddy’s fucking you right.”
You’re grateful that your brain hasn’t fully failed you yet, even with your step-son’s thick palms spreading your ass open continuing to spew nonsense out about the appearance of your perfect pussy. God knows you’d beg and confess how badly you need to cum— cum around your husband's son’s monster sized cock. “How am I going to fit in there mommy? I’m way too big for you.”
Jeno sounds sadistic, hawking out spit that lands and drips down to your entrance. “Should I be nice and prep you?” He laughs, a fake laugh, a mocking teasing laugh. “That would be too nice of me, wouldn’t it?”
He leans over your back, reaching for the basket of fruits and vegetables just past your head. “Should I be nice?”
Long fingers wrap around one of the cucumbers half hanging out of the basket, dragging the vegetable down to smack against your cheek. The solid food slaps your skin heavy and rough, making your step-son smile wide, highly pleased by the shame wrinkling your forehead together. “Mommy’s always so nice to me, always takes care of me so well.” Jeno taunts, leaning back and tapping the vegetable down your spine to run between your buttcheeks.
“I shouldn’t be too mean..” the thick tip of the cucumber meets your entrance, cold against your heated core making your hips shiver forward to get away.
“Baby..”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He presses in, cursing between gritted teeth as he watches you stretch open around the vegetable. It’s big, even then no competition for how wide the tip of his dick is alone. “Opening up so so pretty for me, mommy.”
He fucks the cucumber inside of you just half-way, sending your toes to arch up from the floor and scramble to grab at the kitchen counter; threatening to cut open your bottom lip with how hard you bite down to keep in a moan. The whole situation makes you feel dirty, disgusting, ashamed that you couldn’t stop him. That deep down inside you know you’d never stop him, you want it too much. Form the day you noticed your step-son watching you stretch from his bedroom window, to the time you caught a glimpse of him by the bathroom door as you scrubbed down and rinsed your naked body clean. You’ve always wanted him to make a move.
Maybe you’d been dreaming of this moment all along, adding your ingredients to the pot everyday until everything boiled over and spilled past the rim.
“So fucking nasty mommy.” Jeno keeps mumbling, thrusting the vegetable in and out of you, enthralled by the way it comes out stickier, coated with a thick layer of sheen. The wet dripping out past your cunt with each fill, spilling down your inner thighs to the kitchen floor like some whore that needs to be fucked and bred everyday. “Taking it so good, you’ll take me even better.”
His throbbing length slaps against your hip with each push and pull against your insides, hissing and groaning behind you the closer he reaches to stumbling over the edge. “You want that mommy? Want me to fuck you so good, make you forget about that huge rock weighing down your finger.”
Jeno doesn’t let you answer, not noticing the way you curl your hand into a fist to tuck away your wedding ring before discarding the cucumber as he rips you off the counter to shove you down to your knees.
“Fuck.” Gripping around his length he strokes quickly, reaching down to pull on one of your nipples and watch the fat perky mound jiggle under his ministrations.
“Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, push them together for me mommy.” Jeno slaps your breast impatiently, balls tight and tensed up between his thighs doing his best to stave off his orgasm from barreling out.
Eyes filled with big watery tears gaze up in a daze, cupping your substantial fat tits together making the perfect little pocket pussy for his cock to slide between. “Oh fuckkk.”
Jeno’s neck drops forward, slamming up between your squished breasts. Teeth grinding together to stop himself from screaming at the visual of your heavy perfect tits bouncing around his size, the tip of his length nearly hitting under your chin with each thrusts up against your chest. “So good mommy, so fucking good!”
Jeno reaches for your jaw, squeezing in roughly and smacking your cheek to pop open your lips. “Just like that, so fucking hot.” It’s everything he’s dreamt about. Nights stuck inside of his dorm room looking up milf porn, step-son breeding step-mom, juicy breasts bouncing on his computer screen that could never compare to how good this feels.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, thrusting against your chest harder, forcing the weight of your breasts up and back down into your palms, bouncing deliciously. Slapping your cheek again, digits dig into your cheeks and drop a wad of spit in. Pleased from his high up angle as you stay open and let him watch it glide down to the back of your throat. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
Jeno tugs away, cock slapping down on your parted lips before reaching for the tip to squeeze around and release into your mouth. “Swallow all of it.” He moans out, circling your throat with his other hand to feel himself slide down. “That’s it, so good for me mommy.”
The smug smile he gives you before hoisting you up to sit on the table you share meals with your husband at lets you know this is far from over. “Don’t be rude mommy.” Jeno pouts, pushing space for himself between your thighs. Soft palms stroke up and down almost like a warning. “Say thank you.”
He smirks, sinking down to bury between your thighs and proceed to use his tongue in ways your husband never has.
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“Dinner looks great!” Your poor unsuspecting husband sits down right where his son had his meal with you mere hours ago(one that had your back split up in an arch and your eyes meeting the back of your skull), hands clasped together before the plate you serve him.
“Now now,” Jeno chimes in, moving to stand from the dinner table to grab a bowl from the fridge. “I see no greens on that plate, didn’t your doctor warn you about that high cholesterol?”
Your husband eyes his son suspiciously, too focused on the little brat to see the sheer panic running over your face behind his side. “I found this new cucumber salad recipe, I think you’ll really like it dad.”
He smiles, an endearing sweet genuine smile, a smile that could easily make you forget what type of evil menace you’re really dealing with here. “Here, try it out.”
To your absolute horror, Jeno sets down a bowl of seasoned, finely chopped, and wet cucumber before his father, nodding eagerly.
“You put poison in this or something?” He grumbles, stabbing at the slices before shoving a batch into his mouth and chomping with a pleased hum. “Not bad, not bad at all. What’s that flavor?”
His son grins wide, eyes large and full of mirth.
“I knew you’d like it, got a kick to it right?” He blinks up to meet your mortified gaze, biting down on your fingernails as your mind shouts frantically- he wouldn’t!.. he would!.. no, no, HE WOULDN’T.
As if he can read your thoughts, Jeno winks at you, clapping his father on the shoulder. “I guess we have the same taste, daddy.”
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“Don’t dare bother to throw any parties while I’m gone.” Jeno’s father glares at him, pointer finger digging between his chest. “No funny business you hear me? You need to show your step-mom some respect.”
Jeno has a hard time hiding a smug smirk, having to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to contain himself. “Oh dad, trust me, I will show her nothing but the utmost respect. You have nothing to worry about.”
His father squints, skepticism crossing his wrinkled features as he takes in his son’s face once more before heading out to bid you a long goodbye filled with lingering wet kisses.
“Right. You know what? These vacation breaks from school really seem unnecessary. Why can’t you be normal and go on trips to different party cities like the rest of the guys your age?” He scoffs, waving him off flippantly, not even a hug? Jeno clutches his chest dramatically, following after to watch the two of you say your goodbyes from the top of the staircase.
“If he bothers you..” Thick calloused fingers hold your chin delicately, nothing like the nimble boney ones that dug into your face just a few days ago and forced your mouth open to spit past your tongue. Jeno doesn’t really care to tune in, more amused than anything by the little act you keep up. Such a cute young sweet house-wife, more dolled up than your usual for a morning session of pilates. The extra effort put into your appearance no doubt for his father’s benefit, a pretty vision for him to leave behind. It’s not as if the 2 minutes it took for him to fuck you this morning wasn’t enough for the old man.
Jeno hums to himself, catching your line of sight before you follow after his dad to say bye from the driveway as he enters his ride to the airport. Maybe that’s fear in your eye, but excitement builds up his chest nonetheless; you’ll have no arms to run to now. Nowhere to hide that he won’t be able to find you, no asshole of a father to whisk you away from him. At least not for the next foreseeable 24 hours.
That’s why he goes back to bed, his father rudely awoke him this morning with a loud cursed groan after climaxing out of breath and falling onto your bed with a loud thud. He’s surprised the old man hasn’t keeled over and died yet trying to get his rocks off with you. Jeno sighs thinking about the past few days as he lays back down and buries his face into his pillow, you really have been doing a great job of avoiding him.
That doesn’t mean he misses the silent glances and hesitant looks, or the stiffness in your spine whenever he so much as passes by. No, he notices everything you do, even how you’ve been locking your bedroom door when taking showers now. It’s cute really, a game more than anything now as he rests his eyes and hums, imagining you’ve come back inside and surveillanced the downstairs area for your big scary step-son, probably sighing in relief that he’s left you alone. For now.
He’ll let you get your lovely perfect morning routine on, build up a nice sweat that gets your heart racing, high off endorphins from stretching and straining your muscles with various exercises. He’d prefer it that way really, and judging from the time— soon, soon you’ll be on your way to the kitchen to refresh with a nice chill glass of electrolytes. What a pleasant easy life his father has granted you, all you have to grant him in return is your body. It’s no wonder you work daily to keep up appearances for the old man.
Jeno’s mother had never cared much to fulfill his father’s porngraphic ideals of how women should look and act, but you, ah he really struck gold with you. He can’t deny that if he had found you first, he would have ate you alive.
“Oh.”
Your step-son’s not surprised to see you exit the newly renovated makeshift room filled with gym equipment(that used to be for his gaming consoles), gently patting your sweat glistened skin off as the door opens and unveils him standing there across from you expectantly.
“Figured you wouldn’t want me to share such a small space with you.” Jeno says, making no effort to disguise his gaze, dragging down from your chest to your hips and stopping between your thighs to moisten his lips. “All sweaty, out of breath, making sounds that could read as inappropriate..”
Tight-lipped, you nod and ignore him before stepping out and motioning inside the gym room. “All yours.”
“Everything?”
Jeno’s arm launches forward before you can take another step, pausing you dead in your tracks against the hallway wall, a less than innocent grin stares back at you. He cocks an eyebrow, following the beads of sweat raining down your forehead at faster speed the closer he inches forward until you’re pressed up against the wall with little room to free yourself.
“You thought I’d make this easy, didn’t you?” He huffs through his nose, bending at his neck to perch his nostrils right above your throat and swallow down the fresh scent of your hard work. “Burned up a real good sweat for daddy?”
“Jeno, can we talk first at least?” You squirm, leaning back as much as you can with feet flat to the ground in an attempt to slither down the wall inconspicuously. “I don’t want your dad to suspect anything, what happened the other day..”
“When you came around my tongue and begged me to fuck you?” He interrupts, pressing his forehead forward to hold yours in place, voice gruff and deep. “Or when daddy enjoyed his meal? Were you scared mommy? Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you.”
“That’s not it, I’m married to your father!” You smack his chest to push yourself free, digging your palms into his muscular pecs without much budge. The contact only riles him up more, releasing a growl and bumping his nose closer to yours. “Please! Jeno, I’m all sweaty and disgusting. Let me take a shower first at least.”
“Why would I let you do that? And ruin all of this for me?” This being the sweat Jeno proceeds to lick from the divet between your collarbone, slurping his way down to your ample breasts squeezed snuggly inside of a tight sports bra. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.”
Hearing his praise only makes you squeamish, struggling more to shove him away and break free from his biceps bracketed around you. “Please, I smell! Don’t be gross!”
It’s laughable to even ask this of your step-son, especially after having to sit and watch your husband munch away on a phallic shaped vegetable that his son had just used to get you off with.
“I’m gonna need you to shut up mommy,” Jeno scoops the soaked fabric of your bra under your breasts, pushed up higher forming two round mounds perfect for sucking on. “Nothing gross about you, or this.” Teeth bury into the perky fat of your chests, sucking roughly, rough enough to hurt but not leave marks behind.
Jeno can’t stop his hips from rutting forward, grinding his aching thickening cock against your stomach. His basketball shorts don’t do much to conceal how hard he is already, having chubbed up in his room from the thought alone of what he planned to do to you today. He has enough respect for you to leave no signs of bruising behind on your chest, but that doesn’t mean he cares when you cry out to stop again and pull away with your weak nails scratching at the wall.
“You really want me to stop?” He asks, cock dragging up and down from between your pelvis to just above your navel. “Tell me the truth mommy, I know he can’t fuck you the way I can. Know you’re desperate for it, want your sweet little step-son to hang you off his fat 9 inch cock? Come on mommy.” Jeno’s drooling between each word, slathering your chest in spit between his muffled speech and consistently sucking. “Admit it, wanna get fucked so bad.”
“N-no.. please, baby, don’t—“
Jeno’s chest rumbles, groaning loudly as he reaches to pull your bra off, rolling the wet material up for your breasts to bounce out lewdly. The smack of your chest meeting the top of your ribcage and breasts clapping together makes you squeal, quickly shutting your eyes in shame.
“Fuck, so sexy mommy. Don’t hide from me, don’t hide any of this from me.” He squeezes your chest roughly, jutting your nipples out to form perfect taut pacifiers to suck on. Jeno’s tongue works feverishly, sucking and licking at your pert buds until they fully harden to a painful point under the vacuuming pull from his mouth.
Jeno leaves your chest swollen, blood rushed to the skin he’s sucked on viciously. He hums, examining how heavy they weigh down in his palms, gripping and kneading, shoving his face between your cleavage just to hear you squeal and struggle to inch away from him. So damn cute.
“That old assholes really manipulated you well,” he grumbles, licking up the trickles of sweat dripping down from your nape to your shoulders and chest. “Has you thinking this is gross? That you are gross? What the fuck is wrong with him, huh? I should kick his fucking ass.”
“Don’t talk about your dad like that..” you whimper, biting back a moan when he bites and tugs at one of your hard nipples, jiggling your other breast against his face. Even with your mind battling between lust and guilt, you can’t help but to feel bad.
“He doesn’t deserve you.” Jeno whispers, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your lips to shut you up. “He doesn’t even appreciate you.”
His hand cups between your legs, making your thighs lock around his wrist as he cups your sweat soaked mound. Shorts still wet after your vigorous workout. “Baby, not there, please please.”
“Mommy, I’m not going to tell you to be fucking quiet again.” He grins, licking your lips before sliding down your body to his knees. Jeno peers up, eyes sparkling in a dreamy almost innocent way, like a kid in a candy store. “I’m nothing like him.”
To prove his point, his face drops forward between your legs. The fight you put up to keep him out is useless, overpowered by his much larger stronger size as his arms come to wrap around your thighs and pull you apart allowing for his nose to drag up and down your sweaty slick soaked workout shorts.
“Jeno!” Your neck drops back weakly, eyes rolling shut at the sensation of your step-son pulling the material of your shorts with the suction of his mouth alone. Tonguing and sucking on the fabric to absorb the remnants of sweat that poured down and collected between your thighs. Pulling on his hair serves you no advantage, completely under his control as he grinds your cunt against his face roughly.
The only resolution you find comes from covering your face to hide your moans of pleasure, whimpering into your hands the more he licks between your folds shaped by your thin shorts clinging to your center.
Jeno sounds like a rabid animal down there, devouring his way through the best meal he’s ever had. The first sound of a rip sends your spine to straighten out, reaching back down to pull on his hair. “What are you doing!”
He groans, more turned on by your hands digging into his scalp and pulling roughly. Scooping around your thighs for more leverage, Jeno pulls at your shorts and bites down the seam until they give, ripping enough of a hole for his digits to push through and expand. A growl vibrates against your center as he dives in, teething your thin underwear away to roll his tongue against your clit.
“Oh my Go—“ out of breath you arch against his mouth, head shaking side to side and banging into the wall behind you. “Jeno!”
His tongue hardens and swirls against your clit, stimulating each nerve until your feet kick against his back and your hips jerk forward enough to ride his face. He can hardly breathe between your thighs, unbothered by the lack of air reaching his brain as he strokes your clit in expert motion until your cunt spasms against his mouth. Shouting out with your palm hitting flat against the wall as you release down his chin, entrance rocking along the lower half of his face despite the sensitivity throbbing around your middle.
Jeno laps at his mouth like a thirsty dog, slapping your exposed core before moving to stand and wrap around your waist to ensure you can’t run. Not that you will.
“You ready for it.” Resting your hand on his groin, your step-son rushes you up the stairs, scooping under your thighs to reach your bedroom faster.
“In here?!?” You grimace, head shaking to begin pleading. “Not where we slee—“
“Hush.” Jeno doesn’t give you more of an opportunity to argue, immediately hooking into your shorts and underwear to pull them off, only throwing them aside after stuffing the wet fabric under his nose to get a deep inhale. “God damn.”
As much as he wants to let this moment wash over him, the reality of having his wildest fantasy come true, laid out flat in his prick of a father’s bed, legs spread open showing off the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen; Jeno can’t deny how badly he needs to fuck you before he cums in his pants. He’s never been this turned on before, slapping your thigh as he reaches to turn you over onto your stomach, cunt all shiny and raw from the back, squished between your legs making his head spin even more somehow. There’s no way in fucking hell his dad deserves you, not one bit.
Reaching to shove down his shorts, Jeno pats his pocket for his phone, swiping it out discreetly to hit record and perch the device against one of your pillows; making sure to keep it out of your sight before he adjusts between the backs of your thighs. “I’ll fuck your ass too.” He says with a stroke of his thumb between your buttcheeks. “Gonna need more cucumbers for that though.” He snickers, finding a photo from your honeymoon framed on your bedside table, the side you sleep on of course.
Flipping off his father’s cheesy grin, he reaches over to slam the photo down. This is his moment after all, no one else's.
He’d never let you know how raging hard his dick feels right now, lining up the tip to your waiting hole. Having to roll his tongue back to stop himself from blurting out the amount of times he’s busted a nut into his hand, on his stomach, fuck even the pool jacuzzi jets more than a few times by now. All thanks to his precious step-mom, so carelessly displaying every inch of skin, fueling his perverse brain more than you even realize
“Knew you’d take it so good for me,” it’s better than getting a taste of you, which he didn’t think was possible. The stretch of your cunt expanding around his wide girth, skin pulled over the head of his cock struggling to keep him out and somehow pull him in at the same time.
“Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” Jeno says in a more cocky tone, feeling more confident than ever now with half of his length inching inside of you. Pussy walls trembling around his size, sucking around the fat meat pulsing its way inside. No college slut, no amount of lotion to aid his palm, no graphic image available on a free adult website would ever come close to this.
Fully sheathed inside, he sounds out of breath, listening to your whimpers and moans you try to hide with your bedding tugged between your teeth. He glances at his phone quickly, positioning himself to pull out slowly and fall into a rapid pace, dropping his lower half to yours faster and faster until you’re screaming out. The way you scramble to grab onto something—arms flailing out to grab your bed for purchase only encourages him to fuck you faster. Slapping your ass with each powerful thrust.
“Best dick you’ve ever taken, don’t fucking lie to me.” Jeno demands, delivering another harsh slap to your ass before ramming forward balls deep. The collision of his palm cracks around your bedroom, knocking a loud cry from your chest. You nod rabidly in response, gasping deliriously with each pointed thrust. “Say it! Who fucks you this good!”
“You! You baby! Only you!” His phone’s camera stays angled filming your sides, albeit shaky and hard to capture the complete fucked out devestation that’s taken over your pretty face, it’s enough. Enough for him to get off to later, enough to get his way every single time if he needs to.
“That’s right,” Jeno angles his hips to fuck you full with each heavy land of his lower half, pushing your ass up with every clapping shout of skin on skin sounding out between your bodies. “Only me, only your baby.”
The camera tips over, screen gone black directed at the ceiling only recording the sounds of your moans and broken words between each other, Jeno’s gruff heavy panting breaths. The crash of your bodies rocking your headboard against your bedroom wall in a way he’s never once heard his father achieve.
“I’ll never stop fucking you now.” His bicep locks under your chin, forcing your waist to arch forward almost painfully; just enough to strain your lower back. “You’re mine.”
He follows with a growl, lips pressed up to your cheek, laving at whatever skin he’s able to reach. With another roll of his hips, he comes to a still, the thick muscle of his arm around your neck popping out in flex as his body tightens up and locks around your throat. Biting back a moan, Jeno’s release pours inside of you, hot and thick ropes of cum aimed deep inside of you before pulling out the rest of the way to spill between your ass and thighs. “Fuck!”
He sighs, kissing the top of your head to make sure your eyes have shut before reaching for his phone to record the beautiful mess left on your body. He wants to keep going on about how his dad will never fuck you to the point of nearly passing out, dragging his fingers through the mix of your releases before bringing them to his mouth to suck on.
One taste and Jeno knows he won’t stop fucking you until that ring slips off your finger for good.
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“Hope he wasn’t too much to put up with while I was gone.” Your husband wraps around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Next break I’ll have him go stay with his mother.”
“It’s okay my love, he really doesn’t bother me..”
“Hmm, well he sure bothers me.” He sighs, burying his nose into your hair. “Trying a new shampoo?”
“No…” you hold back from making a face, not having had time to thoroughly clean yourself all squeaky clean thanks to your step-son fucking you through the night.
“Oh..” his nose scrunches, pulling away at the sensation of his phone vibrating against your hip. “God, what the hell can this kid want now?”
It has to be Jeno. As unsuspecting as you can, you shift to peer over your shoulder where your husband stands with his eyebrows twisted together. “Why did he send me a video.”
He presses play, immediately setting off your fight or flight response and mentally mumbling off a thank you for the kitchen counter keeping you steady on your feet. The sound of your moans blast from your husband’s phone accompanied by heavy deep grunts, skin clapping against skin and his phone screen covered by the image of your lower half rippling under the weight of your step-sons brutal unrelenting thrusts.
“What in the—“
“Oh my god!” You shriek, slapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your shock. Another text pops up at the top of the screen not even a minute later.
Jeno- ‘Sorry about that dad, meant to text that to my group chat. My mistake.’
“This fucking kid.” Your husband mutters, continuing to watch the video with squinted eyes. “The time stamp on this is from the other night?”
To your horror, he looks at you with an even more confused expression, swiping the video away before it comes to an end. “Did that little shit have someone over? After I made myself clear—“
“He went out!” You blurt out, nodding and catching yourself with a grip on the counter behind your back. “I didn’t think to mention it, but he went out that night. Don’t know when he came back.”
Your husband nods, glaring back at his phone. “I guess he got that insatiable sex drive from me.” He grins at that, humored by his own intrigue watching the girl his son was hooking up with. “Got my type too.” Leaving out the part about a tight little ass, he leans over to grab yours with a squeeze and plants a kiss on your cheek.
You offer a laugh, forcing it to sound less uncomfortable than you feel. “You should delete that text babe, I don’t like that you could be looking at other girls when I’m right here.”
“Is my sweet angel jealous?” He chuckles, slapping your butt and opening his phone to show you as he deletes the message. “My son could never land himself a woman that comes close to you, believe me. You have nothing to be worried about.” With a kiss to your lips he makes to exit and head to your bedroom to shower, leaving you alone to collapse against the counter and quell down the urge of panic trapped in your chest.
The buzz from your phone halts your breakdown, grasping over the kitchen island for it to see new messages from your step-son.
Jeno- ‘You think daddy may prefer these?’
Attached are different angles, showing off more of the bed you sleep in with your husband every night, catching peeks of your pleasured face. Jeno’s behind you in the thumbnails sharing an equal image of rolled up eyes and lips parted open. You don’t need to hit play to know how obscene each video must be.
Jeno- ‘You’ll be sure to keep your pretty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you, right? I know you’re a smart girl.’
An image of your legs parted open from behind sends next, backside covered in a mess of your step-son’s cum and wet arousal smeared around your thighs.
Jeno- ‘Be good for me mommy.’
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slytherinobsessed · 27 days
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without you, i'm lonely | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader | genre: enemies to lovers, academic rivals | warning: angst, swearing, cheating, smut (a bit), minors dni | word count: 3.5k | stefy's note: i've had this scenario in my mind for over a month, so enjoy ;)
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Dating Cedirc has been boring lately. Not to even mention the make out sessions. Boring as hell. And let's not even talk about the sex. It's like your fingers could do a better job than him. That's what annoyed you the most. When you are supposed to be dating someone, they have to be able to pleasure you. Fuck those Hufflepuffs!
But your mother said that you should be grateful that he is dating you. She loved him to say the least as he not only was a good boy, always having his homework ready and never drinking or going to parties. It's like he didn't know what the word fun meant. His ideal date was to do homework, like who even likes that?
You, on the other hand, as a Slytherin, were all the time partying, drinking and enjoying yourself as much as possible with your friends, Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass. Being the most popular girl meant that sometimes, you would even hook up with different guys. Happily, you two didn't have the same group of friends which meant that you could ignore him for days. But Cedric never found out as he was utterly obessed with you and your happiness. Which meant that you had him wrapped around your finger. You were in control and you liked it.
That's when you met him. Theodore Nott. The one that turned your world upside down. He was popular. He was hot. He was smart. He was in Slytherin. Not to mention how handsome he is. But arrogant as fuck. Basically what every girl wanted.
Since first year, the two of you have been top of every single class. You've always been competing for that first place, constantly driving each other to do even better. He was good at History of Magic and you were thriving at Potions.
He quickly became popular which made you hate him. He stole your popularity and you hated him for it. You were the queen of the school and no one can take that title away from you. Not even a boy like him. You were gonna make him regret for messing up with you.
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The lights of the fireplace flickered in the dark common room, covering the books in front of you with a cozy glow. You loved studying at night when it was peaceful and quiet, everyone being asleep in their dorms. Except the one person you absolutely despised: Theodore Nott.
That night, you were studying History of Magic and of course he had to interrupt as always. "Hello ms second place, how much you've got?" A paper signed 100 got slammed right on your desk, it was the test from Ancient Runes.
"That's none of you business!" You say annoyed, rolling your eyes while looking at him. Going back to studying wanting to ignore him with all your will.
He leaned back in his chair, looking all smug. "Oh, but it is my business because i know for sure that you have scored lower than me." Theo took a cigarette out of his pocket and blew some smoke, he looked as if he was enjoying the tension between the two of you. He smiles, hsi white teeth shining in the dim light.
"And if i got lower than you, that's still none of your business." You say turning your chair into his direction crossing your arms.
"Oh, but it is." His voice was teasing as he watched you cross your arms. He took another drag from his cigarette and blew out more smoke. "Because i know for sure you hate getting lower than me."
"I got 99, happy?" You say with a sarcastic voice looking at him. "Because i got one fucking question wrong." You continue with an annoyed tone.
He looked at you for a few moments, it was clear that he was thinking. The look on his face could only be described as mocking. "Only 99? I thought you'd score higher." He took another drag from his cigarette.
"God! I fucking hate you!" You roll your eyes, returning to your studying. He was mocking you, when you were trying your best to stay focused.
He let out another chuckle and blew some more smoke. He was enjoying the fact that you were annoyed. He leaned forward on his desk, getting too close to you. Theo said with an annoyed tone of voice. "Hate is a strong word you know."
"Which can easily describe what i feel for you." As soon as he got close to you, you started breathing heavily, he was close. Too close. You were trying your best not to shuttering to give him the satisfaction, knowing that he had an effect on you.
He laughed a little at your answer, it clearly seemed to amuse him that you were so annoyed with him. He continued leaning towards you. Theo said still with that annoyed tone. "Such a strong feeling towards such a charming person like me you know...I'm flattered." He couldn't resist teasing you even more.
"Fuck you!" You look away, trying to control your breathing, not wanting him to see your affected in any way. You hated him. The way he made you feel.
That only made him laugh a bit, he really enjoyed that you were getting riled up. He took another drag from his cigarette. He said teasing you once again. "So uncivilized, I expected more from you, second place."
"Second place, my ass." You say while rolling your eyes as you look at him. He tortued you by being close, and not shutting up. So you took a deep breath and tried to ignore his presence.
Theo continued to lean forward until he was really close to you, almost invading your person space. His arms were resting on the desk in front of you. He smirked and said in an annoying voice, teasing as always. "Oh come on, admit it, if it wasn't for me you would have been third place or even fourth."
That's when you decided that it would be time to play his game. Answering in a sarcastic and mocking tone. "Yeah i bet. I wonder what would i have done without you, Nott."
His smirk grew wider and he blew out some more smoke, the smell of his cigarette filled the entire common room. He continued to look at you as if searching from any other reaction from you. He said in an annoying voice. "Well, i'm sure you would have found another way to ruin your life, besides getting lower than me in tests."
"Thank God I have you to ruin my life." You roll your eyes as your say that while looking at him. He annoyed you. With every single bone from your body you wanted to slap him. Make him regret messing with you.
His smirk grew even a bit wider as he let out another chuckle. You noticed that he seemed to be enjoying your sarcastic and mocking answers. He said in the same tone while being all smug. "Yes. Thank God you have such a charming rival to ruin your life."
"Yes i'm so grateful to have you in my life." You say annoyed getting up to go to the balcony to smoke. You needed to calm down. Smoking did help you a lot.
Withouy hesitation, he got up and followed you outside. He stood up in front of you, leaning against the railing of the balcony. He was still enjoying everything that has happened between the two of you. "Enjoying the night?" He said with his typical smug smile.
You roll your eyes annoyed looking at him. Taking the pack of cigarettes from your robe and the lighter. Lighting up the cigarette as you take a drag from it. "If you weren't here, i'd be enjoying it."
He chuckled a bit, he was surprised that you were still talking to him instead of trying to ignore him or just going back inside. Still, he was enjoying everything. Theo took another drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke. He said with the same tone as before. "Well, it seems like i'm going to ruin your precious night." He smirked while saying that, he was really enjoying your annoyance. It's as if he was craving for it.
"Oh, so you want to ruin my nights?" You teased him as you blew the smoke in the air.
He smirked at your teasing. Theo seemed to play along since he knew you were annoyed and trying to tease him. He raised an eye as if what you said was surprising to him. He said with a typical tone of voice. "If i want to? I already am." He looked at you once again, he couldn't keep his annoying smirk off his face.
"God! You're so annoying! I wish i hated you!" You roll your eyes as you finsh the cigarette. Letting the stump fall on the ground, stepping with the foot on it.
He couldn't help but laugh in response, this was quite amusing to him. Once you'd thrown that sentence at him, not a single emotion could hide how much he was enjoying all the verbal sparring between the two of you. He continued leaning against the balcony railing, you could see a slight grin on his cheeks. He replied, still with that smug smile on his face. "But you don't."
"But i wish i fucking did." You say leaning your head against the wall, looking at him while crossing your arms.
He looked at you as you leaned your head against the wall, he couldn't stop his annoying grin from spreading out a bit more. He just enjoyed your annoyance a bit too much. He raised an eyebrow at you and blew out some more smoke from his cigarette. He said with that ever annoying tone. "Still, you don't."
"Do you ever shut the fuck up!" You say as you roll your eyes.
He laughed a bit, he took another drag from his cigarette as he enjoyed your annoyance and how you were unable to keep your temper with him. He was still leaning against the balcony railing when he replied, he said with an annoying tone once again. "No. I. Don't."
"Then i'll make you." You say letting the stump fall on the ground as you step on it. Coming closer to him and taking him by his tie, smashing your lips to his.
His smirk faded away for a while as you stepped forward and kissed his lips, at first he was completely caught off guard. He didn't resist in the least bit. His arms were still leaning against the railing. In the end, he kissed you back, letting this be one of those rare moments where he had no sharky, teasing, or annoying remark to make.
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Sooner than you expected, you and Theo were all over each other. He made you forget about Cedric. He made you happy. Made you want to break up with Cedric and date him in a heartbeat. As much as you hated him, now you were utterly in love with him. It was so wrong, and right in the same time.
Cedric was getting suspicious therefore you have been ignoring him for the past few days. You find yourself unable to sleep so were making your way to teh Astronomy Tower, just to see Theo with a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn't take his eyes off the black lake yet, he knows it's you. "Care to explain why you have been ignoring me, bella?" He says coldly.
"Because my boyfriend almost caught us." You say pouting, hugging him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder.
His arms wrap around you as you hug him from behind. He slowly exhales his cigarette smoke from his mouth. A small grin curves on his lips. "I'm assuming he hasn't found out yet?" Theo asks as he moves his head against your hair.
"He hasn't." You smile looking at him.
Theo chuckles, taking another puff from his cigarette exhaling the smoke out, before speaking. "Let me guess, he trieed calling you? Texted you?" He guesses. You nod your head still looking at him. He was handsome even when he wasn't doing anything.
"And what did you tell him? Did you say everything is fine? That you're sorry for not responding?" The asks as he turns so your back is pressed against his chest. One of his hands is on the back of you neck and the other is holding the cigarette.
"I know how to handle him, don't worry." You say in a calm tone, reassuring him. Being happy to have his arms around you.
Theo lets out a small chuckle, his finger tracing small circles on the back of your neck. "Oh, i'm worried." He says exhaling more smoke. "I'm just wondering how far have you gone to reassure him you ain't doing anything behind his back." Theo asks as his cigarette glows in the cold night.
"I just answered his questions without causing any suspicion." You answered while kissing his cheek.
He chuckles once more blowing out another small puff of smoke. "Let me guess you also got upset and started crying to make him feel guilty and give you extra reassurance." Theo guesses, teasing you.
"You know me so well." You lean the back of your neck on his shoulder, looking at him.
Theo rolls his eyes playfully while looking down at you. His hands move to the front of you, resting on the sides of your hips. "You didn't answer my question tho, did you really do all that?" He whispers as his breath tickles your neck as he speaks.
"No i didn't. I just made him feel guilty without crying." You say giggling, thinking about the conversation you had with Cedric.
He chuckles again and lets out another puff of smoke. "Still got it huh? You're actually pretty good on making him feel guilty. He doesn't suspect anything?" Theo asks, his thumb lightly tracing a small circular motion on your hip.
"Not even a thing." You say proud of yourself. "Hufflepuffs are just too easy to manipulate."
Theo lets out a small chuckle, his teeth grazing on your neck as his hand rests on your hip. "Hufflepuffs, they are so easy to manipulate." He jokes as he exhales more smoke from his cigarette. "No wonder he is getting more clueless the more you do that guilt tripping and reassuring. When all your attention should be on me." Theo grumbles softly as his thumb caresses your hip once more.
"Ugh, i wish it could be easier." You sight, looking at him. Hoping the situation could change sometimes, so there would be only the two of you.
Theo wraps his arms around you again, your body pressed against his chest as he exhales ans inhales from his cigarette. His body radiates heat as he speaks. "You mean you wish you didn't have a boyfriend?" He mumbles against your ear so that his breath blows on your lobe.
"Yeah, i hate him." You roll your eyes annoyed thinking about Cedric for a moment. "Such a goody pants."
He laughs softly as he exhales again from his cigarette. "Why are you with him? If you hate him so much." Theo questions, his arms still around you.
"Cause i can't break his heart." You pout, knowinb how hurt he will be. "Plus, my mum loves him."
He chuckles but keeps a straight face. He still doesn't understand why you haven't just broken up with your boyfriend. "You know your mother isn't the one that's dating him, right?" It's you. You can do whatever you want, break his heart if you have to." Theo whispers as he leans his head against yours.
"I'll think about it." You whisper to his ear, smiling a bit. Already starting to think about how you should break up with Cedric.
Theo laughs slightly as he exhales again. His fingers move to grab the ends of you hair and plays with it slowly. He's been pushing you to break up with your boyfriend for months now, yet you still refuse to do it. "You really have him wrapped around your finger, huh? That poor guy..." Theo grunts softly, still playing with your hair.
"If breaking his heart is not ok, i'll talk to Pansy, maybe she'll talk to him." You giggle thinking that it would be fun to see Pansy break up with your boyfriend for you.
He rolls his eyes hearing your plan but also chuckles to how absurd it sounds. "Pansy? Really? You're going to ask Pansy to break up with him for you..." Theo mutters playfully as he lets out a small puff of smoke from his cigarette. His thumb still playing with a strand of your hair.
You roll your eyes giggling, actually thinking about the plan you had in mind and how ridiculous it is. "She really knows how to break up with guys."
Theo chuckles softly as he wraps his arms around you. He's still playing with a strand of your hair. "Sure she does, remember what she did to Oliver? She broke up with him so bad when he was all lovey dovey with her that he hasn't been in another relationship since." He chuckles again as he exhales more smoke from his cigarette.
"Oliver was such a bastard to her." You giggle looking at him. "He was with her and in the same time with her best friend. Who does that?" You say trying to erase the image from your head as to how much of an asshole Oliver was.
He nods in agreement, laughing with you, even he knew Oliver was an ass for doing that to Pansy when she was genuinely in love with him. "He was such an ass for that honestly. I mean sure she did break up with him in the worst way possible. But he deserved it."Theo whispers and exhales more smoke from his cigarette still playing with a strand of your hair.
Theo chuckles once more as he finally stops playing with a strand of your hair. He exhales more smoke from his cigarette. His hands move to your waist now as he leans in more towards you, unti he is face to face with you. "So if not Pansy, you're gonna keep stalling till he finds out about us?" He asks straight up.
You roll your eyes, giggling. Thinking about Cedric find out about you and Theo almost send shivers up your spine. "Or let him find out on his own."
He chuckles and exhales more smoke from his cigarette. It was almost 1 am, yet here you are with him. He's been thinking about this question for the past few months now that he was going to ask it. "You really wanna wait till he finds out the hard way, huh?" Theo asks as he rubs his thumb lightly along your waist.
"Couldn't care less." You laugh looking at him, definetly not caring about Cedric's feelings as you started to love feelings for him, and gain more for Theo.
Theo chuckles as his body radiates more heat , still rubbing his thumb on your waist as he asks. "What would you do if he finds out? Don't tell me you'd break up with me to still be with him." He raises an eyebrow curious of your answer.
"I'll break up with him, don't worry." You kiss his cheek, reassuring him. Knowing that whatever happens , between you and Cedric, you'll still continue to be with Theo.
Theo lets out another chuckle, a small grin appears on his lips as you kiss his cheek. He's glad you assured him that you'll break up with him as he keeps rubbing his thumb along your waist. "And after you break up with him...?" He asks slowly, his body still pressed to yours.
"I'll be with you." You smile and turn around to kiss him deeply, wrapping your hands around his neck. Coming closer to him, playing with his hair as you two kiss.
Theo lets out a small chuckle as his lips meet yours. His hands move from your waist to the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. His lips and tongue moving slowly, gently until his breath against your lips gets hotter with every kiss. His fingers running through your hair as you both make out in teh Astronomy Tower.
You found yourself moaning his name as he was licking and sucking on your clit. He was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. Thank God you decided ro wear a skirt for him to have an easy access. You were gripping his hair as he continued to lick your clit. He didn't stop until you were shaking after your second orgasm.
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© SLYTHERINOBSESSED — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
453 notes · View notes
nikkisheep · 4 months
Text
To Be Alone With You (Part 4)
Anthony Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader (soon)
mentions of Benedict Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader
Warnings: cheating (Anthony is engaged to Edwina), SMUT!!!!!! oral (f), fingering, over stimulation, sexual tension, cursing, body worship, jealous Anthony, biting, angst at the end, hair pulling, breeding kink
I'M SO SORRY IT GOT TO BE SO LONG :)
Summary: Anthony finds out about your art session with Benedict and means to remind you who you belong to as you remind him who he chose to belong to.
Songs to listen to while reading: **= smut part, *=angst
**Amantes: Esme (song is in Spanish but is very soft and sets the mood)
**Take Me To Church: Hozier
**I Wanna Be Yours: Arctic Monkeys
**Shameless: Camila Cabello
**wRoNg: ZAYN
*The Great War: Taylor Swift
*Say Don't Go: Taylor Swift
Tag List: @shealuna, @m-rae23, @littlepeanut03, @aellabridgerton, @sydney-m, @faatxma, @wildthoughtnananna, @uraesthete, @themadhattersqueen, @sydney-m, @theantiquehobbit
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME
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You watched the Lady's maids get you ready in front of a large mirror. When it came time for you to get your hair done, your best friend, Phoebe, ushered the other maids out. Phoebe was the daughter of your mother's Lady's maid. The two of you grew to be fast friends as you grew older. Phoebe hoping for marriage and you planning to find a man worthy of her.
"If you are not careful, the others will know what you and those two Bridgertons are up to," She said as she pulled your hair off your neck, revealing the bruises from your "art" session with the second son.
"Phoebe!" You gasp. "I told you that as you are my best friend, not for you to use it against me."
"Darling, I am not using it against you nor am I blaming you. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position?" She giggled as she put your hair in the tight bun that it needed to be in.
"I would rather not be in my position if I could help it," You said while looking down at your hands.
---
The Bridgerton house was covered in their signature baby blues. There were flowers, candles, and other decor everywhere to be seen. All the Bridgerton brothers were decked out in their fancy suits with those beautiful neck ties. Benedict's was a soft yellow and Anthony's was a dark blue. The others wore white.
Dressed in your family's dark purple color, your mother had the neck line deeper than what is normally accepted. You knew that she just wanted to help you find a man but the only man that you really wanted was one who was engaged to marry your sister.
Moving to the drink table, you grab a cup of water. You notice that nearly everyone else had chosen the lemonade. When you turned back around from the table to the ballroom, one Colin Bridgerton was making his way to you.
Giving a short bow, Colin moved to stand beside you.
"Do tell me, Miss Sharma, how have you enchanted my two idiot brothers?" He asked with a sly smirk on his face.
"Why, I do not have the slightest idea," You reply, hoping that he wouldn't pressure.
"See, I don't know if I can accept that answer, Miss Sharma," Colin said. "It seems that their eyes have not left you since you walked into the room."
With that he left your side, only for one Anthony Bridgerton to step into his place.
"Evening, Miss Sharma."
"Viscount Bridgerton." You nod.
"How have you been?"
"I've been fine, my Lord," You quip. "How has your engagement been?"
He looked at you with a flash of hurt at the sudden mention of his engagement to your sister.
"How was the art session with my brother?" He said with a jealous undertone in his voice.
"It was wonderful. I learned a lot. A lot that some men can't teach." You walked away at the end of your sentence as you moved to the dance floor with Anthony.
The way his eyes looked at you with such passion and desire at the same time nearly dizzied you as his left hand came to rest on your waist and his right holding yours. His warm skin melted through the soft white fabric of your glove and you could feel his warmth through your gown.
Your bodies moved in waves of motion as you stared into each other's eyes, mapping out every hue of color as though this will be the last chance you would see each other. After all, this will be your last chance to see Viscount Anthony Bridgerton unwed. The last chance to be with Anthony Bridgerton. Your Anthony.
"Your gown is exquisite, Miss Sharma." Anthony moves to turn you so your back is pressed against his chest, his arm holding yours across your chest. His lips near your ear so you are the only one to hear, his warm breath fans over your exposed neck and the top of your chest as it rises and falls with the sheer excitement and nervousness that came to being this close with the Viscount, your lover in the darkest nights.
"Thank you," You said. "You don't look to bad yourself, My lord. "
"Anthony," He said. "I have told you to call me Anthony."
"My lord, I have only called you that in private." You began to become flustered with the memories of your night meetings before his engagement.
"You seem to be flustered," He says as he pulls you closer as the music stops, his lips directly beside your ear. "Tell me, do you still think of me when you are with my brother?"
You pull back quickly with surprise. You go to say something, anything but you can't seem to find the words.
"It's okay, darling. My brother is a worthy lover, however, I must make you remember who you belong to." He says before squeezing your dress to walk away to greet a man by his mother.
---
You sit in your room, looking out the window at the small lake outside. The night reminds you of when you first let Anthony touch you.
His skin against yours in the cool water as he moved his lips against yours in fever as he wanted to consume your every thought and replace it with him. The way he picked you up out of the water and laid you on that dock. The way he ravaged you with hunger and lust as he picked you apart and put you back together with pleasure being his glue.
Your hands start to wander up and down your body as you remembered the ways that he touched you, making you feel immense pleasure that you had never known until that night. You shake the thoughts away from your mind as it started to thunder outside, signaling a thunderstorm was about to hit. Just as a loud crash of thunder clapped, a small thud against your window sounded so much louder in the howling wind and rain. You open the window to find Anthony Bridgerton soaked head to toe in water. His hair was stuck to his face and his clothes were stuck to his body. He waved you down and you went.
"Have you gone mad?" You whisper shout.
"Mad? No. In love with you? Yes." He smiles.
"You don't mean that, My lord."
"But I do."
"You made me believe you loved me only for you to propose to Edwina. My sister!"
"I never meant to actually fall in love with you!" He yelled, hands coming to be thrown up in the air.
"So it's my fault that you love me? Is that what you are trying to tell me?"
"No! Yes! I don't know how I fell in love with you." He stared at you as the rain continued to pour around you. "I just know why I love you. Let me show you how much I love you."
"What about Edwina?"
"What of Edwina?" He asked, confused at the even mere mention of her. As if the mention of his fiancee was left a bad taste in his mouth. Not that she wasn't a lovely girl, but because she wasn't you.
"What has happened between you two?" You tremble at the thought of the two of them doing the things that you have done together.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked. "Nothing has happened."
"Have you kissed her?"
"No."
"Have you held her body close to yours?"
"No."
"Has she been given the same pleasures that you once gave me?"
"You are the only one that I have ever wanted to be with that way in a long time. I do not care for Edwina that way. When I told you that I only feel this way about you at the lake, I meant it." He said, moving to grab your hands to pull you closer to him.
His brown eyes bored into yours as he scanned your face for any resistance. He pressed his body against yours as he bent his head down to press light kisses on your neck.
"I desire you so deeply I feel it in my bones."
"I believe that may be the cold and the rain."
-----
You lead him into the house, quietly to not wake anyone, and held his hand as he followed behind you up the stairs. As he stared at you with want, you lead him to your bedroom. He helped you run a warm bath as the two of you had been in the rain for the last hour.
You step closer to him, hands coming up to cup his jaw as you pulled him down to you level and kissed his lips. He gasped at the chill of your lips which lead you to slipping your tongue inside his warm mouth. You moaned as your hands wandered his wet body and started to slip his waistcoat off his shoulders to reach his shirt. His own hands came up to start unbuttoned his shirt before you ultimately ripped it off him.
"I quite liked that shirt," he said with a smirk.
"I'll buy you a new one," You said as you unbuttoned his pants and stripped him bare before you.
Your hands came up and started to touch his body as he kissed you, removing your wet clothes for your body. The two of you laid in the tub as the warm water surrounded you both.
Your head on his chest and his chin on the top of your head gave the two of you the feeling of closeness that you needed.
"I love you," he whispered into your hair.
"I know. I love you too."
You turned to kiss his lips and hold him close to you. Your tongues move together as if they were dancing, in secret promises of love and lust. Your hands explore each other's wet bodies as you lay in the warm water. Anthony's chest tickles your back lightly and you can't help but sigh at the thought of being like this forever.
----
Anthony dried you in the white fluffy towel and wrapped you up before grasping your face to kiss your lips once more. His kiss was slow, exploring your mouth as though it would be the last time, not knowing if there would ever be another time he could touch you like this, to taste you like this.
His arms came to pull you flush against his bare body as his hands caressed every inch of your skin, wanting to memorize the feel of your skin underneath his hands, to feel your warmth radiating from you.
He walks you back to your bed, never breaking the kiss until he pulls away long enough to gently push you back so you fell onto the mattress softly, swiftly landing on top of you, connecting your mouths once more. It felt like your air was stolen right out of your lungs and your body set aflame. Your legs spread to allow him to lay in between them as his hands ran down your sides as he kisses your thoughts and air away from you.
Anthony's scent filled your nose as you breathed him in. His touch washed any thought away as his lips ventured down to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly, making you sigh in content as you felt Anthony's tongue gently soothed over any bites that he left as he moved down your body.
Quiet whispers of "You're so beautiful" and "I love you" slipped into the night as Anthony kissed down your stomach and met your hips. Brown eyes met yours as he looked at you for permission. You nodded for him to continue and you closed your eyes as you awaited the blissful pleasure of his mouth on you but it never came.
"Words," His eyes said. "I want to hear you say it."
"Anthony, please! I need you!" You moan as you try to grind your hips into his face.
"I love you," was all he said before he held eye contact as his mouth opened and his tongue touched your pussy. His lips came to your clit as he closed his eyes at the sweet taste of you. He moaned softly into your cunt as you gripped his hair with one hand and the other, the bed sheet. Your hips rolled against his mouth as he pleasured you. You noticed that the bed was moving slightly as you opened your eyes and saw that he was staring at you as he ground his hips into the mattress to relieve himself some of the pressure that was torturing his cock.
"Oh my Lord!" You nearly shout as you clasp a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself.
"Do not bring my title into this bed," He grunted against your body.
You moaned at the sheer feeling of his fingers slipping into your hole, stretching you for the later events with his dick. He looked at your with admiration as he played your body like a violin. Anthony slipped from your hips as he moved himself to rest his face above yours.
"So beautiful."
"Anthony," You gasped into his mouth, panting to catch your breath.
"Does this feel good?"
You moan as his fingers brush your g-spot before curling there and massaging it.
"It does feel good, doesn't it?" He smirked. "So pretty. My pretty girl."
"Anthony," You keen. Your stomach tightening. "Please."
"My sweet girl, you don't have to beg." He looked down at your soaked pussy. "Cum."
Your orgasm wracked through you as Anthony continued to finger you through it. Waves of pleasure washed over you as over stimulation started to set in.
"Anthony," You whine.
"One more."
His fingers sped up as his search for another orgasm from you became desperate.
"Such a good girl," He praised. "My good girl. Doing everything that I tell you. Thinking that she can just fuck my brother but look who has her now. Look at how good you are being for me."
Your back arches as you let out a moan and Anthony clasps a hand over your mouth to silent you. You cum once more before Anthony moves in between your legs once again to line himself up with your entrance.
"Gonna fill you up so good," He groaned as he sunk into you. "Gonna see you so full of me, going to be dripping me for days."
You groan as he starts slowly moving against your walls as you clamp down on him, slowing his movements even further.
"I want to feel you," You moan as your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull his weight on you. You hand goes to his hair and you gasp when he thrusts deeply.
"Oh, Anthony."
"Yes, moan my name. Forget my brother. Forget any other man but me. I am the one making you feel this good." He groans into your neck as he starts to pick up pace.
"Only you, Anthony," You moan, back arching off the bed and your hips rising to meet his. "Only you make me feel this good."
His lips find yours and swallows your loud moans, keeping them for himself and only him. His hips move faster as he starts to get near his release. His thumb moves to your clit and starts to circle it as he kisses your neck and move down to your breasts, sucking softly.
"So beautiful," He moaned. "My pretty girl."
Your orgasm hit you like a train and you bite down where his shoulder meets his neck, earning a hiss from Anthony as he moved over you quickly, jack-hammering into you, trying to reach his end. You hands pull at his hair and his lips find yours.
His warmth spills inside you, your eyes rolling back as you feel him fill you completely. He falls on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You look at him in the soft moon light shining from your window. The rain was still coming down hard outside.
"I love you," You whisper.
He turns to look at you, smiling at your words.
"I love you too."
You smile before sliding closer to kiss his lips. His arms come around your body and pull you closer to his body so your legs tangled together.
"I wish we could be like this forever," You sigh, drawing circles on his chest with your finger.
"I know, I know." He sighed as he relaxed against you. "I wish it wasn't like the way it is."
You turn to look at him with a frown.
"When do you need to be back home before one of my sisters find us?"
"I can leave in about an hour," He said, looking into your eyes before kissing you softly.
"I can work with that," You smile before turning over to sleep against his chest.
"I love you, Miss Sharma."
----
You awoke with the other side of the bed cold. You turned over, hoping, wishing, that Anthony was still there. That he had chosen to stay, to risk being caught just so he could wake up next to you. You remember the feeling that you got when he used "Miss Sharma" rather than your name when he told you that he loved you. It was too vague for your liking. There were three "Miss Sharmas'." You sigh before getting up to start your day.
You look at his side and realize that there was a letter on your bedside table.
My Dearest, Miss Sharma
I awoke with a perplexed train of thought as I watched you blissfully sleep. I love you as deeply as the deepest parts of the oceans and even further than that. I wish there was a way for me to sleep in the same bed as you. To stay in the same home with you, to hold your love as close as I can until it was the only thing that I knew. I wish there were a way for me to undo everything that I gave done. I struggle with words compared to Benedict which on the subject of Ben, I give you my full permission to pursue him. Just because you can not find the happiness that you deserve with me, does not mean that my dear brother can not full fill that void that I have caused to be created in your soul.
I love you, Miss Sharma. How I wish I were able to say, "I love you, Mrs. Bridgerton. My viscountess." Perhaps in a different reality were I didn't propose to your sister, it would be you who I am marrying. Someone that I truly love despite that being everything I did not want when I was looking for a bride.
Yours true and with my deepest love,
A.B.
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434 notes · View notes
pers1st · 2 months
Text
consequences
pairing: lucy bronze x reader
notes: very angsty, also it's been a while since i've written this so pls don't mind this too much, just clearing my drafts
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dirty tissues, trust issues - glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you
You felt Lucy slipping away from you with every day that passed. There was nothing soft, nothing loving about your interactions anymore. The two of you were barely able to converse during training sessions, your passes off and drink breaks spent as far away from each other as possible.
Going home together was even worse. The nights you'd spent at Keira's house because being with your girlfriend was simply unbearable were endless, and even now as you walked out of the shower after your evening run, wet hair on your neck and skin tainted with lavender, you considered taking a run for it as you found her on the couch, a bottle of wine on the coffee table.
You huffed, not finding the energy to start yet another fight, as you sat down in your living room's armchair, far away from Lucy. She was watching football, and as you drew your knees towards your chest, you felt her gaze on you.
"You want a glass of wine?", she asked, and you weren't exactly sure whether these were the first words she'd said to you today or not. You remembered the times you would talk for hours in bed, never hearing enough of her voice.
"No."
Your voice was sharper than you had intended for it to be, quite honestly, but you didn't have it in yourself to care, as Lucy didn't either, sipping away at her wine without another question.
The silence was unbearable all of a sudden. 
"Why are you drinking again, anyways?"
Lucy huffed. 
"Makes this a little less awkward, don't you think?"
And with that, you rose from your seat, the frustration making you restless. 
"If you can't stand being around me sober, why don't you just leave?", you exclaimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you paced through the room, desperate for something to do, to focus on, before you blew up at her anymore.
"That's what I'm trying to do, don't you remember? Last I remembered, you didn't want me to go to Lyon!"
"Lucy, that's not what I said! I don't get why you're just throwing our relationship away without a second thought", you yelled through the room that had once been filled with your laughter.
You couldn't stand being here anymore, and instead walked towards the open kitchen, busying yourself with the dirty dishes in the sink from the dinner she'd eaten without you.
"I've told you before, that's not what I'm doing! I don't get why you won't let me have this! Lyon is like, the best club there is, and you're holding me back here because you're too scared I'll leave you?"
You scrubbed at the plate in your hands aggressively, the hot water burning at your skin, as you felt deja-vu overcome you. This conversation had played out between the two of you endless times, and you didn't know how much longer you could take it.
"That's not what this is about Lucy, and you know it!"
lonely pillows in a stranger's bed, little voices in my head
The conversation played over and over again in your mind as you found yourself in Keira's guest room yet another time. You had told Lucy, multiple times, that you understood why she wanted to move to Lyon. You weren't holding her back, were you? You wanted her to succeed, to go to the best clubs in the world, you wanted her to do everything she dreamed of, you simply didn't understand how she hadn't even taken a second to think about what this meant for your relationship.
Keira's pillow felt warm against your scalp and at once, you sat up against your bed frame, looking at the time on your phone exhaustedly. It was well past midnight, and you had a match tomorrow that you needed to be in form for.
Sleep didn't come to you easily though, not when you were left wondering what your girlfriend was doing now - whether she was laying awake just as you were, thinking and thinking about the arguments between the two of you, or whether she was snoring softly the way she always told you she didn't, her dreams filled with her in a Lyon kit, thousands of kilometers away from you.
Was it really that easy for her? To just up an leave you behind, without a second thought?
When she'd first told you about wanting to go away from Manchester, there had still been hesitation in her voice. By the time Lyon made an offer half a year before her contract ran out, she had jumped in excitement, telling you all about how she would go and win the Champions League and what a great opportunity this was for her. You didn't quite disagree with her, but you were left wondering where exactly, in her future plans, you were displayed. 
When you'd asked her this, she hadn't had a clue. That's how this mess had even unfolded in the first place.
secret keeping, stop the bleeding - lost a little weight because i wasn't eating
Keeping the break up from the public proved to be one of the most difficult things you'd ever done. Although your relationship had never exactly been confirmed, it hadn't taken much for the fans to notice the way you had been attached at the hip for years, and when Lucy had interrupted your post match interview once, simply to stare at you lovingly in a playful way to stop you from concentrating on the questions asked - and when she had succeeded in it, there was no room for questions anymore.
Your feed was still scattered with pictures of the two of you. You could barely look at them as you scrolled your profile, finding pictures of your vacation together, pictures of you in Manchester together, pictures of you during the England camps and tournaments. Deleting them wasn't an option - Lucy and you had decided to stay friends after this break up, and although it was proving to be quite easy to remain friendly now that she was in Lyon and you hadn't had a single conversation with her since the night she'd left, you knew that deleting the pictures would 
A) send the fans into a spiral down every one of your interactions
B) stir the rumors already spread all over the internet
C) make people think you hated each other.
None of those options were ideal, and the latest most definitely wasn't true. Your heart was still so full of love for Lucy that you often found yourself crying at the memories with her, crying at the fact that she'd left you, crying at the fact that you'd let her go. 
She'd promised you that things would be okay, at the airport, with her life packed in bags and you left behind. She'd promised it would be okay. Now though, it didn't seem okay to you. The lack of a goodbye post was a starter - many of your teammates had shared past moments with Lucy, candid pictures or heartfelt messages, wishing her all the best in the world. And although it wasn't unusual for you to be inactive on the social media, it certainly raised questions among the fans. Your girlfriend was moving to another country. You seemingly didn't say goodbye.
However, some people had spotted you at the airport together, stating that you were definitely still dating and that you would manage the distance okay. Lucy's contract was only a year. She might just explore her options and come back to you. You might leave after another year in Manchester, and follow her to Lyon.
You wouldn't, but they didn't know that.
You decided, then and there, laying in your bed once more, crying over your girlfriend once more, that you had to delete TikTok.
The breakup was more than obvious to everyone who knew you personally, though. You were barely speaking at any social event, never staying long after training, preferring to be in your own home and rot away. Georgia and Keira tried their best to drag you outside, make you live a little, as they called it, but you barely let them. You had lost weight too, as the team doctor had pointed out, although you didn't believe him. Your heart felt too heavy, weighing your body down with every thought, every feeling of Lucy. She wasn't here though, you realized as you glanced at the empty side of your bed, another tear escaping your eye. 
every siren that I was ignoring, I'm paying for it
The signs had been there early on. She'd promised things would be okay, and you had half-heartedly believed her. Now though, you realized you shouldn't have. The constant tone of your phone was grounding you slightly as you sat in your armchair, waiting for Lucy to pick up. You checked the time in an anxious matter, wondering whether or not you had maybe mixed something up. But no, you hadn't. You'd agreed to FaceTime on Monday, at eight. However, your face was the only one visible on your screen. 
Had she forgotten? Should you dial another time? Was she ignoring you?
Just as your finger hovered over the red button, her face came into view, and you didn't recognize her surroundings. You had facetimed many times by now, and you knew what her apartment in Lyon looked like. The slightly slurred words made it ever so clear to you.
"Hey baby", she huffed, holding her phone close to her face as she got up from a sofa that wasn't hers, strolling into a hallway that wasn't hers, pulling a door closed behind her that wasn't hers.
"Can I call you back later?", she asked, her tone slightly whiny. "Now is not a good time."
You didn't tell her that now was the time the two of you had agreed on three days ago, when you had begged her to answer the unscheduled calls, wanting nothing more than to hear her voice. You should've known - when the promised call later didn't come, that there was nothing left for you to pick up. Your relationship was shattered, a part of you realized then, but there was another part that held onto the pieces of glass tightly, so tightly that it drew blood. Her call only came a week later, and by then, all she had to say was how amazing Lyon was. She didn't once mention how you would like it there.
loving you was young, and wild, and free
You remembered the day you fell in love with Lucy like it was yesterday, the memories having permanently altered the chemistry of your brain to the point where you could never forget anymore. It had been the first day you'd met her - when Lucy, of all people, had been selected to show you around the Manchester training centre. She hadn't done a particularly well job, as the staff had assessed later, because she had shown you all her favorite nooks and crannies of the building, showing you where best to hide when you were supposed to be in the gym, where best to get food, the cheapest vending machines and the best coffee stations.
She had smiled at you shyly, and you had reciprocated. From that day on, the two of you had shared soft touches everywhere, a hand in the small of your back here, a tug on your shirt during a particularly competitive warm up game there, the intertwined hands as you finally showed her your furnished apartment, which you would later dismiss to move into hers. Your cheeks had blushed whenever the older defender found you among the crowd of teammates, whenever she had told you to turn your head off before a match, whenever she had celebrated your goals by letting you jump into her arms, burying her face in your stomach. The first time you kissed had been a mess of chuckles, teeth clashing in smiles and stolen touches of your hands here and there. Falling in love with Lucy had made your heart beat out of your chest, it had made your stomach warm and fuzzy, it had drawn a smile upon your face that was hard to get rid of, even though Keira and Georgia liked to tease you about it at every opportunity. The first time you and Lucy had shown up at practice together, you hadn't heard the end of it, but no matter how awful the teasing got, it had been worth it a hundred times. If not a million.
You remembered the time you'd sat on Keira's sofa, drinking wine shyly and telling your best friends all about the first official date between the two of you and how everything had just fallen into place afterwards. Despite the fact that they called the two of you annoying at every chance they got, arguing that you were disgustingly smitten, you knew in the back of your head that they were supportive of your relationship. They told you once, as you once more chugged wine on Keira's sofa, that they dreamt of a relationship like yours. 
loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses
"It's okay, honey", Lucy ran her hand through your hair as you sobbed into her chest. She had been a mess of her own after England's departure in the quarter final of the 2019 World Cup, but she knew that she would later pick up the broken pieces that were left of you. You'd caused a penalty in the first minutes of the match, setting England up for failure (at least, that was what you believed), and after the red card you were given in the eightieth minute, the floodgates had crashed down completely.
Your body wrecked in her arms, in the dimly lit hotel room, mere hours before the team would return back to England. Had Lucy not been around - God knew what would've happened. The both of you had stayed up throughout the night, because even though you had held the tears in on your way back from the stadium, and during the most silent team dinner you had yet to sit through, there was nothing holding back the tears once you had sat down on Lucy's bed. Neither one of you had slept yet, and while Lucy had hoped you would simply pass out from exhaustion, there was no end to your tears. She didn't once complain though, holding you all throughout the night, cooing soothing words at your shaking body, despite the fact that she knew you wouldn't hear any of them. It hurt her - to see the absolute mess that you were, especially because of how good of a player you knew she was, and how she knew that you had been one of the key players in England's tournament so far, especially given the fact that you were still young, compared to her. 
She held your hand all throughout breakfast, when you had finally calmed down enough to walk, and when she sat with you on the plane home, but the worst part was yet to come.
Realistically, there was no stopping you from reading through the comments under your recent Instagram post, despite the fact that she had thought about snatching your phone in the few hours of sleep you got and simply turning them off.
"They're all saying it's my fault, Luce", you whined, teary-eyed, as you sat in your armchair, a blanket wrapped around your body, your phone shaking in your grip.
"Y/N, we've talked about this, it's not your fault", she cooed, frustrated with the fact that you still didn't believe her. This conversation had played out endless times in the past two weeks, and despite the fact that the season at Manchester City was about to start, you were still stuck on the events in Canada. 
"But- if I had-"
"No", Lucy interrupted you harshly. "Y/N, you've had a great tournament. If it wasn't for your goals, we would've been out a round or two earlier. You did everything you could for your country-"
This time, it was you who interrupted her.
"I don't know if I can do this again", you started sobbing now. Lucy was up from the couch within seconds, her plate of dinner long forgotten as she crouched down in front of you, taking your phone out of your hands.
"Can do what, baby?"
"I don't know if I can play for England anymore- nobody wants me there- I can't-"
Your words came to a stop as Lucy wrapped her arms around you, your chin immediately tucked into her neck, sobbing softly.
"Don't let them get to you, Y/N. You are a brilliant player, and you're not gonna finish your career over some trolls on the internet", she ordered, and in the end, she had been right. Although, if it hadn't been for her, being with you every step of the way, holding you as you cried, being your biggest supporter on and off the field, you might've never returned in an England shirt.
loving you was sunshine,
but then it poured, and i lost so much more than my senses
but loving you had consequences
The second you had left the pitch after the Champions League match against Lyon, you should've expected the social media war that would come crumbling down on you mere hours later. Fans had found your lack of interaction after the match and the way you had shoved Lucy once and hadn't returned to help her back to her feet to be the proof to the rumored breakup. They had been suspecting it for a while, with rumors sparking up between Lucy and one of her teammates at Lyon, and the lack of your interactions online. It hadn't bothered you so far, the endless comments asking about what was going on, the tweets that people thought were funny. Now, however, it was an entirely different feeling. The shove of yours against Lucy was everywhere - on your Instagram feed, your Twitter feed, you couldn't escape it. In hindsight, it looked far more aggressive than it had been. Lucy and your speed had left your legs tangled and had sent her flying to the ground, and as you were too fast to stop so abruptly, you hadn't managed to get back to her before Ada had pulled her up already. It did look as though you had simply left her on the grass, although the both of you knew that the foul hadn't been intentional. You had only huffed angrily at the ref's decision, not at Lucy's presence. 
You didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing that people had missed your short conversation in the hallway of the Etihad. She had caught you there - after having conversed with Keira and Georgia, she had sent her hand out behind her and grabbed a hold of your shirt before you had even seen her, with your head still lingering on the goal you'd scored. 
"Hey, you", she smiled, and Keira and Georgia had vanished at the very second that Lucy let them go, smiling at you softly.
Your conversation had been that as well - soft. Lucy had asked how you were, and you had told her that things were okay again. She'd asked how things were at City, but she hadn't pushed you to talk to her, squeezing your shoulders and saying her goodbyes when she had felt the tiniest ounce of discomfort in your shift. 
All of that was shielded from the public though, and people quickly made you out to be the villain after your "foul". Some jumped to your defense, claiming Lucy must've really hurt you, for you to tackle her the way you apparently had. Others were sure that you were jealous of Lucy's career, and taking your frustration out on the defender. 
They couldn't have been further from the truth. You had been hurt at first - about the fact that Lucy had dropped you like a hot potato at the thought of moving to a better club, but you realized now that her motive hadn't been to discard you, it was simply how her brain worked sometimes. Lucy was a big kid, she didn't think things through before becoming excited at them. You had never been jealous of her career, and you didn't think you ever could. You wanted her to do all the great things she dreamed of, you wanted to win the Olympics and the Euros and the next World Cup alongside her, you wanted her to win the Champions League, the French league, the cup, anything. 
You sniffed slightly as you realized just how bad of a person people made you out to be. Suddenly, you were reminded of the World Cup again, seeing the clear visual of the night you'd spent in Lucy's arms, reading every hateful message, every comment, every post about your failure and how you were a disgrace for your country. She'd been there for you through it all. Now, however, you were sitting alone in your flat, the flat that Lucy had once lived in, and you knew that it was the smartest thing to call Keira, or Georgia, or Alex, but you also knew that Lucy was close - closer than she had been to you in months, and so you couldn't exactly stop yourself from dialing her number. She'd texted you before she'd changed it. You had it memorized, just in case you ever needed her. She'd promised you to be there for you despite it all, and although you had sworn to yourself to never ever take her up on the offer, you knew that Lucy was the only person who could pull you out of this.
"Hello?", her voice came from the other side, quickly, sleepily. "Y/N?"
"I'm sorry", you sobbed, suppressing your tears as well as you could. It wasn't easy. Your Instagram comments were still open on your iPad, laying on your knees.
"Don't be, Y/N. Is it the comments?", she asked, and you allowed yourself to smile at the fact that she knew you so well, that she had noticed what was going on without you having to tell her.
"Yeah", you hiccuped, wiping your tears away with your sleeves, sniffling quietly. 
"I'm sorry, they shouldn't comment these kinds of things", Lucy said, and you felt your heart swell at the emotion in her voice.
"Yeah", you replied again, suddenly not knowing what to say.
"Hey, how about we swap shirts at the next match? Let people know that they're spinning stories", she suggested, and you nodded quickly, although she couldn't see you.
"Sure, that sounds good", you smiled slightly at the thought, at how determined Lucy seemed to fix this issue. 
You spoke for longer on the phone than you expected, with Lucy staying silent shortly to find a less occupied spot in the hotel, away from her roommate, and catching up over what happened over the last few months. She offered to post a story of the shove alongside a joke of sorts if you needed relief immediately, but you declined, knowing that even just the conversation with her had calmed you enough to not look at the comments anymore. Lucy told you to switch them off as well, but you didn't- knowing that she didn't hate you was enough.
It felt like the closure the both of you needed - and when you finally came to Lyon to verse her again, the two of you had switched shirts after the match and you had finally gotten to see her family again, showing Lucy's nephew around the pitch shortly. There were people out there still hopeful that the two of you were together, but most people accepted the breakup then and there, and were relieved to see the two of you still friendly with each other. You had spent years together, after all, but you were the most relieved. Knowing that you still had Lucy on your side if you desperately needed her, if everything fell down on top of you - knowing that Lucy was going to be on your side forever, it was possibly the best consequence that could've come out of your relationship.
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rk1stars · 1 month
Text
SHAMELESS. - K.SN
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pairing . situationship! sunoo x fem reader, warnings . fighting, mentions of blood, suggestive ending, cursing, sunoo is a tiny teeny bit toxic. word count. 658 | music playing - shameless by camila cabello. | authors note . very different from my usual writing but i hope you like it!
“Sunoo! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” As you approach the scene, you see the man lying on the floor with his nose bleeding, apparently knocked out. Without hesitation, you grab Sunoo and quickly bring him inside the nearest bathroom, making sure to close the door behind you.
After spending a long and tiring week at work, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with your sweet and caring situationship, Sunoo. You planned to have a fun and exciting evening together, filled with laughter and joy. However, things didn't go as planned, and the night took a turn for the worse. You're not sure what went wrong, but everything started going downhill, and the happy atmosphere quickly turned into a tense and uncomfortable one.
You were at a bar, feeling parched and in need of a refreshing drink. While ordering your drink, you noticed a strange man approaching you with a creepy smirk on his features.
“Hey beautiful, you wanna come to my place.?”
As you stood there, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist, causing you to feel uncomfortable. Without hesitation, you pushed his hand away, making it clear that you did not appreciate the unwanted contact.
“I’m not interested. Please don't touch me”
“Ay, don't be so difficult. I know you want this.”
Before you could react, you saw him thrown on the ground while your situationship was punching him in the face over and over again.
“Sunoo! Stop!”
As Sunoo doesn't stop despite your words, you take his hand and lead him towards the nearest bathroom. You guide him through the crowd, gently pushing aside anyone in your path, until you finally reach the bathroom door. Once inside, you make sure to lock the door behind you and check that the room is empty. You then turn to Sunoo and scold him.
“Sunoo! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” yelling at him.
“He was touching you. What do you expect me to do?! Just stand there?” his tongue poking through his cheek.
“Yeah! But not punch him to death?!”
Sunoo was feeling a surge of anger and frustration. He had been putting on a facade of being sweet and caring towards you all this time, but the moment he let his guard down and showed his true emotions, you reacted with anger. He couldn't help but feel like his efforts to be kind to you were being taken for granted, and that his true self was not being accepted.
So many mornings he woke up confused with full of dreams of you and you’re treating him like this?
As Sunoo leaned in closer to you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation wash over you. Despite his usually sweet and gentle gaze, his eyes now appeared sharp and piercing. It was as though his entire demeanor had shifted, leaving you feeling uneasy and unsure of what to expect next. The intensity of his stare was palpable, and with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more and more anxious in his presence.
The music blasting in the background you felt the intensity of the lyrics.
“Distance, inches in between us.”
“I want you to give in, I want you to give in.”
“Weakness, tension in between us.”
“I just wanna give in.”
“Cat got your tongue? I’ll show you what the fuck I'm doing.”
As you walk alongside Sunoo, you notice him looking at the strap of your short dress. He reaches out and gently takes hold of it. Looking up at you, he mumbles a quiet "May I?" making you nod hesitantly.
Though you felt a bit intimidated, you desperately needed him.
You became acutely aware of your own breathing as you felt a sudden hitch in it. Simultaneously, you noticed that the strap of your dress was gradually slipping down, exposing your shoulder and threatening to unveil more.
maybe you didn’t mind this side of him.
tl
@cholexc
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slvtforfiction · 5 months
Text
Freak or drink
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☆ Colby X Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
☆ Established relationship ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
☆ Suggestive but no actual smut
☆ For context tara and Jake + Sam and Kat are still together in this
☆ Also more context but I’m going to do 1 couple at a time so if You choose not to do something you and Colby drink? Yk? Also there is cards that are like “drink if you are…” sooooo,
☆ Masterlist
☆ This is a legitimate card game if anyone wants to actually play!
☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
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Colby 🖤:
Hey doll,we’re playing a couples drinking game down here,come join meee x
You:
Okay love,coming x
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I walked downstairs seeing my bottle of tequila rose sat on the side and grabbed it,walking over to the group l,sitting next to Colby.
“Hey love.” He whispered and I smiled up at him,looking round the circle that had formed. Everyone playing the game consisted of ; Kat + Sam,Tara + Jake,me and Colby.
I picked up the first card,reading aloud “Sit on your partner’s lap for the rest of the game.” I smiled laughing to myself as I looked up at him,he nodded and I sat myself atop of him. “That’s early in the game.” I laughed to myself as everyone else laughed along with me.
Tara went next,picking up a card and reading out loud like I had, “Spit in your partners mouth” and everyone burst out laughing once again as Jake and Tara took a shot,not drunk enough to do that infront of everyone.
Kat then grabbed a card reading out loud,once again, “Moan your partners name as loud as possible.” And we all burst out laughing. “We’ve already heard you do that.” Tara said wheezing with everyone else.
“I’m not doing that.” She said,laughter dying down as she took down a shot with Sam.
Colby picked up the next card and I smiled looking at it before he read it out “Drink if you’re a pillow princess.” And kat burst out laughing whilst the rest of us stared each other down.
I downed a shot and looked around realising I was the only one that did, “Go on girl!” Kat cheered me on laughing whilst Colbys hands snaked around my waist.
Jake then grabbed a card,reading aloud,already laughing before even reading, “Give them a lap dance.” And we burst out laughing as he began shaking his ass infront of Tara.
“Go on Jake wooo!” Sam yelled as we all sat there giggling to ourselves whilst we watched. Afterwards Jake sat down,holding Tara close to him.
Sam then picked up a card and read it out again, “French kiss your player of choice.” And he looked over at Kat as she nodded pulling her into a kiss. I cheered her on as the guys cheered on Sam.
They pulled out of the kiss and laughed at each other,with each other as Kat rested her head on his shoulder.
“You two are so cute.” Tara said with a smile whilst I picked up a card. “Straddle him and kiss his neck.” I laughed out,as did everyone but I turned around in his lap to face him,wrapping my arms around his shoulders and whispering in his ear, “Is this okay?” He smiled and kissed my cheek “Yeah,baby.” He whispered back.
I began leaving love bites along his neck with a few pecks here and there, I heard Tara and Kat cheering me on. Colby’s hands clamped down on my waist as his head dug into the crook of my neck whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
I pulled away and turned around to see everyone staring and I giggled to myself,Tara picking up a card.
“You’ve got lotssss of hickeys on your neck love.” I whispered in his ear and he smirked to himself and felt round his neck trying to feel something,I giggled to myself.
“Name the players you would have a threesome with.” And we burst out laughing as she began answering, “Jake,me obviously and Y/n.” She said and I laughed as I moved in Colbys lap trying to get comfortable.
“Stop that.” He whispered in my ear as he clamped his hands on my waist,stopping me from moving. “Why?” I asked,genuine confusion in my voice, “You fucking know why.” He scowled in my ear and it clicked. “Awh poor baby has a hard on.” I whispered in his ear and he whispered telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’ and then I realised it had gotten to our turn again.
Colby picked up the card before I could and held it in front of him, “Pin them up against a wall and kiss down their body.” He read, ‘ooo’ was heard around the room from everyone and im he whispered in my ear, “Do you want to take a shot or not?” He was still clearly annoyed but wouldn’t do anything without my consent.
“I don’t mind.” I whispered back and he picked me up off his lap,dusting himself off and bought me over to the closest wall,pinning my arms above my head beginning to kiss down my body,slowly and teasingly.
My face held a blush as everyone looked over to us and I felt the need to hide my face from everyone else,resorting to closing my eyes as my mind traveled to the bedroom with Colby.
“Alright guys that’s enough!” Jake yelled jokingly and he let go of me as he sat back down,patting his thigh,telling me to come sit atop of him again.
Jake then picked up a card as I perched myself on top of Colby, “Without hands remove their underwear.” And everyone burst out laughing whilst they poured their shots immediately.
“Not doing that infront of you lot.” Tara laughed as Sam picked up the next card.
“Drink if you’ve ever faked an orgasm.” We looked around the group,not one of us taking a shot. Colby was my first and will be my last and he knew his way around a women’s body to say the least.
I picked up the next card and smiled to myself, “Go into the bathroom and send them a nude.” I giggled as everyone looked at me, “Fuck it.” I said as I got off Colby’s lap and walked to the bathroom.
I locked the door and pulled off my crop top,lifting up my skirt to show off my new lingerie. I snapped a pic,sending it to Colby and walking back into the room after putting my shirt back on.
I walked into the room to see Colby setting his phone down and bragging about how pretty I am. I giggled to myself and sat back in his lap.
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After the game Colby threw me over his shoulder gently and put his hand on my skirt so people couldn’t see up it.
“We’re gonna go back to ours,I’ll see you guys later?” He asked as he walked over to the door. “Yeah dude,see you later.” Sam and Jake replied as my hand sat on top of my shirt,holding it down so I didn’t flash anyone.
We got back to ours and Colby threw me onto the bed,kissing down my body again.
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I was snuggling into Colby’s side as I got a text from Tara,
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Tara ���:
Girl,how was it,spill.
You:
Wdym?
Tara 🩷:
Girl ik u fucked him 😭
You:
We have to call tmrw I’ll tell u everything
Tara 🩷:
Okay girl x
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visionsofmagic · 8 months
Note
Hello
Could I get a song lyric story with Billy Butcher with either song lyrics #1 or #13
Fluffy or sexy your choice.
⎯ better than him. [billy butcher – 1/2]
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྾ summary: being denied by your crush, you find yourself at the door of butcher, only to get better since his your only company but it ends different than you thought. ྾ lyrics: #1, A little bit older. A black leather jacket. A bad reputation. Insatiable habits. He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe. Yeah, I said, “If you kiss me, I might let it happen.” ▸my oh my, camila cabello; #13, I could be a better boyfriend than him. I could do the shit that he never did. Up all night, I won't quit. Thinking I'm gonna steal you from him. I could be such a gentleman. Plus all my clothes would fit▸boyfriend, dove cameron
wc: 1.4k ྾ notes/tags: fluff, mentions of nsfw content (a little) – part 2 will be the nsfw one, reader discovers inner facts, kind of mean butcher, kissing, biting, confessing, nicknames, cursing. ^^ ALSO, lots of thanks to @butchers-girl for the request! 💌 I know I made you wait for a while but I hope this one will make you happy. enjoy! *lots of kisses and hugs* [masterlist]
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“You look like shit.” He says, rolling his eyes at your mess yet he leaves his door open behind him to let you in after he understands you are waiting in front of his door for a while now from the way you sit on the ground, no tears but sadness washing over your face.
“Yeah, got it from you.” You tease even though he can make you leave his house anytime soon. A voice tells you that he will let you because contrary to his common cold manner, he’s soft – for you. This was the reason, maybe not the main one, you came to him after feeling so down due to having a crush, ex-crush now, who said how he could never imagine liking someone like you. Well, it shouldn’t hurt but it did and you had only Butcher to make you feel good since he was your only close friend.
“Stop being a brat,” Not using the word ‘cunt’ with you, no, you were so delicate to hear that, Huggie wasn’t though. “I let you in, yeah, be grateful.”
Following him into the couch, you put no mind to the mess of his house. You know he nearly comes to his house and today was your lucky day that he finally came. You watched him as he took off his black leather jacket, only leaving with a black sweater, making him look more mature and older – he’s indeed a little bit older than you, enough to make you watch him for a while before he remarks with a smirk on his attractive and cocky face, “Liked what you see the princess?”
Rolling your eyes, you look at the closed TV in front of you and hide your face from him – probably already understood how he made the heat rush to your face. You knew you were like an open book for him – he knew you maybe more than you know yourself, and that was another reason you came here – not the main one still.
“Just open the TV.” You say after seeing your own reflection on the black screen of huge TV; you have a messy posture while he’s looking so good as always. His wide open legs make you focus on there for a moment before catching his eyes on the reflection, seeing how he smirks and puts his left arm on the couch’s edge, right above your shoulders, caging you with his body like your small body, comparing to his bigger one, means nothing.
Without saying anything, he opens the TV, some ads playing while he drinks a bottle of beer which you didn’t see until that moment. How he got that even? “Want some?” He asks, pointing to the bottle.
Shaking your head positively, wanting nothing but forgetting about everything, you take the bottle from his hands, fingers brushing into each other. Feeling hotter each second beside him, you take a few gulps of cold beer and put your head on the edge of the couch, making his arm behind you a pillow for you to sleep on. Closing your eyes, you say after a moment of peaceful silence – something you like about Butcher; he always knows when to talk or let you go while being in silence. “He said he would never be with someone like me.” You leave a sad chuckle, feeling insecure even if you want to deny it.
It takes a few seconds for Butcher to say after you feel his piercing gaze on your face. How you wish to open your eyes and watch his beautiful eyes, attractive face, and sharp gazes but you can’t – not yet. “I said that he was a bastard, didn’t I?”
Opening your eyes, you look at his face, rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude inside your brain. “At least say something – uplifting you cocky bastard.”
Your swear makes him smirk, shrugging, he points to the door, “You can leave if you need a fucking therapist, ya know. I ain’t one.” Knowing he will not let you leave, you chuckle, drinking the remaining part of the beer as he watches your face, not even taking any permission to do it – he doesn’t need it anyway.
“Rude.”
“I speak the facts darlin’, the cunt is a bastard, so, let it go. Not worth it.” – Not worth crying, not worth thinking about his words but it’s nearly impossible when his words flow in your system like venom and you want Butcher to make you find your own medicine for it – you know your worth but still, being a broken one now, you need him.
“Butcher,” you say, taking his full attention on you because your voice comes so low, revealing how bad you are feeling right now. “What’s the meaning of ‘someone like me’? Am I that bad? I am, right?” You leave another weak – sad chuckle, making Butcher swear to the guy before looking at you deeply, with sympathy and affection on his expression.
“Fuck the guy,” He says, his arm behind you now holding you by the shoulder, pushing you closer to him, his hot breaths hit your face. “Fuck them all, y/n, you don’t need them to see your worth.” Surprised by how he talks – so openly, you become breathless because of both his words and the proximity between you.
Putting your right hand on his bearded cheek, you say, “Being soft now, are we?” Teasing him makes you giggle.
“Only for you, darlin’.” He confesses, leaving you surprised at his words. Looking at him, you gain great confidence by the way he looks back at you, and your hand moves on its own, caressing his beard as one of his hands find your back, pushing you closer to him, earning a low, “Butcher –“ utter from you.
“Yes, love?” He asks; a cocky smirk on his attractive face. Rolling your eyes, you leave a chuckle, playing the game he’s up to.
“Will you show me my own worth? In your eyes –“ You say, trying to understand his motives; just to take away your sadness or express something he wants aloud. You know that if this moment, he kisses you, you will let it all go, and like he hears your own thoughts, he smirks, holding your cheek with his free hand, pulling you closer until your lips touch his – fireworks blow in your stomach at the sudden but waited, for a long time, action.
First, you stay without moving, then, when he bites your lower lip to get your blank mind working again, you let a soft moan out, closing your eyes, and you kiss him back – as passionately as he does. Lips trying to eat the other’s lips, hot tongues enter each other’s mouth. As you and Butcher kiss each other as your lives depend on it, the world under your feet seems to be disappeared, only leaving Butcher and his presence knowledgable to your mind – reality. He’s neither fast nor slow with his actions. He acts as if he knows every nerve of you, which to push, which to pull, which to touch.
He slowly, and gently – contrary to his common attitude, rises, making your back touch onto the surface of the couch. Pushing your legs apart with his knee, he finds his place between your thighs, hands positioned on the left and right sides of your head. You can’t help but feel small against his big body, not that you complain, not when he breaks the kiss – both of you need air, a necklace which you gave him swing, you pay attention to it for a moment before looking at his eyes, seem to have more sparkles now. “At the end of the night,” He begins, sounding both confident and assuring, “You will know your own fucking worth, doll,” He kisses your lips again, rough this time, leaving red marks on them due to biting. He’s so possessive, you can see that. “The most precious girl – my girl is the most precious girl. So fucking precious. That cunt – oh, that cunt will kick his own ass after he finds out what he missed, I’m telling ya – ”
“Butcher,” You say before holding his necklace and pulling him into you powerfully. You need him now – more than anything, and you know you have needed him for a long time now. “Just forget about him and kiss me. I only need – you.” He smiles, genuinely, then, the smile turns into a devilish smirk, leaving you breathless.
“Damn sure you need me. Will make sure the only man you can think of will be me at the end of the night, my girl.”
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leoramage · 8 months
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competition + part one
⊹ masterlist ⊹ taglist ⊹
⊹⊱ trigger warning - [being shady af, slandering, tune in for plot twist!]
⊹⊱ theme - [social media au]
⊹⊱ pairings - [ex!mick schumacher x thai beauty queen!y/n x ?]
⊹⊱ face claim - anntonia porsild
⊹⊱ keywords - [rumours. "i promise that you'll never find another like me." emotional scars trope. "you're talking shit for the hell of it." girl fight. "anything you can do, i do better." bitterness and envy. "who do you think you are? are you better than me - no."]
INSTAGRAM
mickschumacher posted a story and a photo
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liked by pierregasly, estebanocon and others
mickschumacher 🤍
truemickfan Wait, did I miss a whole season? Mick and Y/N were just together during Miami Grand Prix, and how's he's all cozy with someone new? 😳
estebanocon 😍😍
⊳ racedaydreamer estie bestie, explain what happened to my parents! 😭
⊳ speeddemonette I AM DISAPPOINTED BARFING, CRYING, HAVING SEIZURES RIGHT NOW!
mickfanatic Is it just me or does anyone else feel like Mick moved on way too quickly? Y/N is not just a casual fling!
micksupporter YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH Y/N WAS ALMOST 4 YEARS MICK! 😭 4 YEARS!
gridgirlgossip Goodbye, I am sending you my therapy bills.
cornercruiser #downgradeofthecentury
NEWS FEED
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TWITTER
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The night was alive with the glow of twinkling stars, casting their silvery light over the event you had just finished hosting the glamorous charity event, Your radiant smile never left your face as you effortlessly guided the evening. The applause echoed through the grand hall, and for a moment, you felt like the world was yours as you were dressed in elegance and grace, embodying beauty and poise like no other, leaving behind a trail of flashing cameras and clinking glasses. But as you retreated backstage, reality caught up with you.
Your phone buzzed insistently in your hand, a notification lighting up the screen. You anticipated it to be a congratulatory message, a reminder of your brilliance on stage. Instead, it was a photo that sent shards of pain through your heart.
Mick.
There he was, smiling broadly, his lips on her cheek and an arm wrapped around a woman – you realized who she was – the Instagram model whose presence had been splashed across tabloids and gossip sites recently but whose ingenue beauty was unmistakable.
Your heart sank as you realized the truth: he had moved on like you and him never happened.
3 years of being with him – going 4 years – all thrown aside like a trash.
You were with him, in his ups and downs.
You were there when he lost his F1 seat.
You were there when he questioned his ability...
His talent...
His whole being...
And the pressure of him being the racing prodigy after his father.
You were there when Mercedes took him in and welcomed him as a reserve driver. You celebrated late at night and cuddled by the flame drinking beers while Coldplay plays on the background. It feels like home to be with him but...
Where could have you possibly lacked that he found another one so easily within two months?
Were you that ugly?
Were you that unworthy?
Were you that replaceable?
Were you not enough?
The tears welled up before you could stop them, blurring your vision as you crumbled into a chair. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the deafening silence of your pain echoing in your ears. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and an undeniable sense of loss.
He said that he won't break your heart, let alone shed tears because of him. Yet here you are, a sobbing mess because he found a replacement 2 months fresh after your break up.
You hated him. No... You loathed yourself that you've ended up this way with your heart and soul. Yet a part of you feels guilty and loves him despite letting you burn yourself in the process. He said he'll protect you but...
He had set fire and left you alone - sacrificed yourself for your ever-unsalvageable relationship.
It simply costs you. Your being.
You lost yourself so that he could find himself.
You didn't know what happened. One day he wasn't the Mick you knew.
He changed that was all.
It felt like a betrayal, a stark reminder that he had moved on while you were still grappling with the aftermath of your breakup. The break had been raw, an ache that had haunted you since the day you parted ways. Two months had passed, yet the wound was far from healed. The emotions you had been pouring up for weeks seemed to return like an overflooded river, and the dam you had so carefully constructed - every week you put on a brave smile and face the world - finally crumbled once again.
You completely lost him.
Amid the tears and the sobs, you allowed to release the anguish that was held back. It was as if the universe had given you permission to feel, to mourn, and to heal.
You clung to your friends, letting their unwavering support become your lifeline, traversing the caverns of your own heart. Your friends rushed to your side, their faces filled with concern.
And a new familair guy was there too, like a true friend. He knelt in front of you, his big copper eyes locking onto yours. "Y/N," he whispered, "I'm so sorry... You don't deserve this." The sobs wracked your body as you buried your face in your hands before he pulled you into an embrace that lulled your lamenting and already ravaged heart. But the pain was too raw. It was misery that had been festering for two long months, a pain you had hidden behind your dazzling smile.
You thought you were fine, that you were strong enough to handle seeing Mick with someone new. But in that moment, all your strength crumbled. It felt like your heart had been ripped out and stomped on.
His hand grazed your back with your face buried in his chest, his voice was low but soft but filled with empathy. "He doesn't deserve you, Y/N." His accent was thick upon whispering in your ear, feeling bad that you had to go through this.
As you cried, you realized that the pain wasn't just about Mick. It was about the weight of expectations, the pressure to always appear strong, and the fear of being alone. It was about the depression that had been silently eating away at you.
You had been wearing a mask for so long, pretending to be okay when you weren't. It manifested from you losing weight, skipping meals and even your sleeping schedule had been hell. And now, in this moment of vulnerability, you felt like you were breaking free from that suffocating facade.
He whispered soothing words, reminding you that you were loved and that your worth wasn't defined by a relationship.
As the tears continued to flow, you realized that healing would take time. But for the first time in months, you felt like you were ready to take on the path to recovery. The pain was real and there was nothing for you to do but it shouldn't be stopping you.
You promised that you would be stronger than you had ever known.
TWITTER
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Morning aftermath...
As the morning sun filtered through your window, you found yourself still wrapped in the cocoon of sleep, the weight of last night's breakdown lingering like a heavy fog. But as your phone began to buzz with notifications, reality swiftly came crashing back. Friends had texted you, their words a mix of concern and reassurance.
"Hey, just wanted to let you know that there's a tweet going around. We're here for you, always." — F/N1
"Some fan or paparazzi sent a picture of you crying backstage last night to a Twitter account. They're all with you. We are always here for you, Y/N." — F/N2
You sighed, sitting up and staring at your phone. It didn't take long to locate the tweet they were referring to – a photo of you, vulnerable and raw, with your friends surrounding you to comfort you. The tweet had gained traction overnight, becoming a symbol of empathy and support from fans all over...
As you scrolled through the replies, you were taken aback by the outpouring of compassion. Fans of both Mick and yours had come together, expressing their concern and sending well wishes. The sight of your shared pain resonated with many, they felt upset for you over a single Instagram post of Mick that drew out all the vitality in you last night.
With a sigh, you knew you couldn't remain in bed all day, wallowing in the events of the past night. You were stronger than that, and you owed it to yourself and your supporters to show them that you were okay. Taking a deep breath, you decided to update your fans through an Instagram story.
You snapped a picture of yourself, the gentle sunlight casting a warm glow on everything it touched. Typing out a caption, you chose your words carefully.
With a sense of purpose, you tapped the post button. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a step forward. The response was immediate – an influx of messages, hearts, and encouraging words flooded your inbox. Each notification felt like a virtual hug, a reminder that you were not alone on this journey.
INSTAGRAM
yourusername posted a story • 4 mins ago
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Later that day...
As the sun began its slow descent, you found yourself deep in thought, your mind weaving through possibilities and aspirations. The idea had taken root within you, a flicker of determination that refused to be extinguished. You wanted to show the world that you were more than just a single pageant title or relationship and that your journey was far from over.
The world felt a little brighter, and the weight on your shoulders felt a little lighter.
With a sense of purpose, you reached for your phone, your fingers dancing over the keys as you composed a message to your pageant coach, RL Duangkong. Your journey to a bigger goal is just about to start.
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Author's Note: THIS POST HAD BEEN UPLOADED WAY TO SEVERAL TIMES THAT I ALMOST LOST PATIENCE. The effort I poured onto this fic is ungodly. Which is why I appreciate smau!writers out there. I was having an internal monologue on how the lines would be distributed properly. I honestly loved making this - it is such a challenge and a struggle to be fair. Please do not repost or take the edited pictures without my consent. Some media in this post are mine and it's hard to do photoshopping/photo manipulation. Any kind of support is appreciated as I continue writing as long as I keep dreaming. Until then, stay updated for part 2! 𔘓ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]𔘓ฅ
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created by the user in response to a creative writing prompt. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, or entities, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The characters, events, and dialogue portrayed in this fanfiction are products of the user's imagination and are not meant to infringe upon any copyrights or trademarks associated with the Formula One sport or any real-life individuals. This fanfiction is solely intended for entertainment purposes, and the author acknowledges that the depicted scenarios are not endorsed, authorized, or supported by any official Formula One entities or the individuals mentioned.
219 notes · View notes
babyblue711 · 10 months
Text
Redemption
Will (Salad Days) x Reader - Part 2 Read Part 1 Here Summary: You and Will reconnect after spending some years apart and learn that each of you has gone through their own difficult circumstances in that time. Your friendship develops into something more as you help each other heal from the past.  Words: 7.2K
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Warnings: NSFW, language, sexual content (18+), mild BDSM, miscarriage, prison, divorce, alcohol, infidelity, mention of death A/N: I am absolutely overwhelmed by the response to Part 1. Thank you all so so much. My heart has never been so happy reading your comments. Things get steamy here, it was my favorite part to write - I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to my beta readers @megatardisbaby and @arcielee; And thank you to @myfandomprompts for making those incredible gifs for me. Dividers by @firefly-graphic Distance, inches in between us I want you to give in I want you to give in Weakness, tension in between us I just wanna give in And I don't care if I'm forgiven - "Shameless" by Camila Cabello
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A Couple Months Later
Late summer is in full swing and you are the happiest you can remember being in a very long time. Your mental state has greatly improved. Although you still had plenty of dark days and hard nights, they no longer held you captive as they once did. You didn’t feel as crushed by your grief anymore and had begun to feel hopeful again, waking up and looking forward to the day.  
You still hadn’t defined your relationship with Will yet, worried about messing up your dynamic. Although you very much acted like a couple since you spoke every day and saw each other almost every weekend, sharing a few more sweet kisses and intimate make-out sessions. You could tell Will wanted to take things further, but it was important to you to take it slow and he respected your wishes. You were finding it more and more difficult to hold yourself back though, with a fire that ignited in your chest and desire pounded through your blood anytime he was near. 
A pivotal moment came when he invited you over to his house to have tea with his Nan. Observing him doting on his aging grandmother was a testament to his kindness and compassion and it melted your heart. Despite the decline in her physical health, her mind and spirit remained undimmed, a fierce flame that illuminated the room; engaging with her had always been a delight, her wit sharp and her laughter infectious. You felt so comfortable sitting in their tiny kitchen, sharing a cup of tea together while listening to her tell stories of the past. With her, it felt like “home”. 
Before you departed his house that day, his Nan pulled you to the side, gripping both of your hands with her wizened ones and looked up at you with watery eyes. 
“Now you be sure to always take care of my boy as I know he will take care of you,” she said when Will was out of earshot, a small tremor to her voice. 
The weight of her words carried an unspoken gravity, a plea for your unwavering care. Your throat felt tight. What would become of Will once his beloved Nan departed this world? Your heart constricted with worry as you felt he had suffered so much already, but you knew this day would inevitably come. 
In response to her heartfelt plea, you squeezed her hands in return, smiling warmly, and vowed that you always would care for him too. The weight of that promise settled upon your shoulders, but you didn’t feel burdened by her request. You wanted to be there for him the same way he was there for you. The commitment of your pledge resonated deep within your soul, but your heart had never felt so full as you made your way back home.
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It’s a beautiful day in mid August and you are back in the city for work, when you glance down at your phone and see a text from Will:
[Will]: Hey, fancy grabbin’ a pint at the pub in a bit? Drinks on me.
You smile as you reply.
 [Y/N]: Sure, looking forward to it - let’s say around 7pm and maybe we can make Happy Hour? 
Summer was quickly fading into autumn and you were eager to catch the last of the warm summer sun. You text your parents quickly that you would be home late and not to expect you for dinner, then gather your things and leave for the pub.
Your phone buzzes as you approach. 
[Will]: I’m back in the pub garden. 
As you make your way through the crowd towards him, you can’t help but admire just how good he looks in this moment. He’s trimmed his hair a bit and combed it back, the summer sun adding a few copper highlights to his usual light brown. His freckles stand out on his tanned, toned arms. He’s chosen another white t-shirt today with black jeans and black Adidas trainers, while you had taken advantage of the last days of warm weather to wear a cute sundress, navy with small vertical white stripes, buttoning down the front and tied at the waist with a cute little sash. 
He’s relaxing in his chair with ease, something about his posture is mature and confident. It suits him so well and you can’t help but smile to yourself, pleased to have known the boy that this man has grown into. He already has a half-finished pint in front of him, his phone occupying his attention. He takes a drag from his cigarette as you approach. 
His eyes light up when he sees you. “Took you long enough,” he says and playfully blows the smoke in your direction. Having never been much of a smoker, he knew that you hated it. Amused but slightly irritated, you arch an eyebrow at him and give him a sharp look, which soon dissipates as he leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, a smug smirk lifting the corner of his lips. Between the warmth of his lips on your cheek and his scent washing over you, smokey with the hint of his masculine shampoo, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be mad at him. 
You cough a little for emphasis of your feigned irritation, “Thanks, you fuckin’ wanker, now where’s the pint I was promised?” You try your best to sound stern but you know he sees right through you. He continues to smirk at you, amused, then turns to go to the bar to get your drink. 
You sit down and take in your surroundings. The seating arrangements are thoughtfully organized, with long communal tables and cozy nooks tucked away amidst lush greenery. Wooden benches and wrought-iron chairs invite guests to settle in while soft lighting from twinkling string lights adds an enchanting ambiance as day transitions into night.
Sun-kissed faces dot the outdoor seating area, as the other patrons try to catch a breeze in the shade, sipping on chilled beverages and enjoying idle chatter. You turn to see Will approaching with your drink and another for him in his hands. His eyes are on your tanned legs and you were glad you had chosen a light cotton sundress to wear that day.
Several hours later, darkness has fallen and several rounds of drinks have been enjoyed, laughter echoing through the air. A game of pool had turned into a friendly competition between you and Will. 
You both had flirted incessantly with each other the whole night. As he showed you the proper way to hold a pool stick, you couldn’t help but notice his body heat radiate off of him, a tingling at the bottom of your spine at his proximity. When he leans over you and adjusts your grip on the pool stick, you give a small wiggle underneath him and he immediately notices. Leaning in close, he whispers “behave” into your ear while a long fingered hand squeezes your hip. Feeling sassy, you side-eye smirk at him, letting him know you absolutely did it on purpose and catching his shy, smug smile in return.
As the final ball sinks into the pocket, punctuating the end of the game, a triumphant smile spreads across your face and you declare yourself the winner. 
“Taught you too well I guess,” Will teases, crossing his arms. “Or maybe I just let you win.”
“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” you say playfully back as you nudge him in the ribs just for good measure. “I won fair and square!” You giggle and lean into him, the alcohol making you feel a little giddy. As you look up at him, you notice the way the string lights create a halo effect around his head; he looks like an angel fallen from heaven and you have to catch your breath for a moment. 
He smiles down at you and hums in amusement, rubbing your bare arms from the chilly air now that the sun has set. You can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction and contentment, safe in his arms, and you wanted him to know it. 
“Thank you for the drinks and good company tonight,” you say sweetly. “I had a lot of fun.”
He seems pleased, his eyes warm. “Me too. Are you sure you didn’t just meet me here to pay for the drinks?” he banters, smiling. 
“I bought the third round!” you exclaim in mock outrage, hitting his arm in jest. 
He chuckles, surprising you with a quick kiss on the lips. The small gesture lights a fire in your belly; you can practically feel the heat of his gaze burning right through you. 
You gather your things and he takes your hand as you make your way out of the bar, both of you feeling as if you didn’t want the night to end. You don’t want to let go of his hand. 
Once outside, he hesitates a little, “You know, Nan and I live right over the way, it’s a short walk from here. Given the hour, would you want to come and stay?” You consider him for a moment; it was later than you intended and you aren’t looking forward to taking public transportation back home alone at this hour. 
“Are you sure we won’t be bothering your Nan?” you ask in a hushed tone. 
“Nah, not at all. I have the whole downstairs to myself since Nan lives upstairs. She’s a sound sleeper, won’t hear us at all,” he reassures you. 
You look up into his pleading puppy dog eyes and agree to go home with him, never having been able to turn down those eyes. Will lights another cigarette as he walks you home, burning end in one hand, the other placed on the small of your back, guiding you home. You swear you can feel an electric current thrum between the two of you as you walk side by side in a comfortable silence.
A short while later, you arrive at his doorstep; he unlocks the door and steps back to let you in. The threshold reveals a small landing, offering a choice of stairs that split in opposite directions. To the right, the stairs ascend to the upper level and to the left, they descend to the basement. 
“Do you mind if I check on Nan real fast? Since it’s late, she probably won’t be in the visiting mood, if she’s still up. I’ll be downstairs in a minute,” Will says.
“Of course,” you say easily, as you wouldn’t want to be disturbed by visitors at this hour either. You wander downstairs and flip on a light, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating his space, tidier than you would have thought for a guy. A black leather sofa sits up against the wall, furnished with squashy grey pillows, opposite a big, flat screen TV. Trinkets and old photos adorn the bookshelf in the corner of the room. There’s a door to the left to what you are assuming is his bedroom. You sit on the sofa and make yourself comfortable while you wait. 
Within a few moments, you hear footsteps on the stairs and Will reappears carrying two glasses of water for you both. “Nan’s fast asleep, didn’t even hear us come in,” he says. “Thought you might need some of this,” he gestures to the water. You accept your glass gratefully and take a few sips, the ice cool on your tongue.
Emptying his pockets onto the coffee table and kicking off his shoes, Will plops down on the couch next to you and makes himself at home. You follow suit by removing your sandals, still feeling a little chilly from the cool nighttime air. He notices you shivering slightly and gets up, heading into his room to get you a hoodie of his to put on. 
You can hear him rummaging around to find you something acceptable to wear. You sip your water, eyes glancing to the bookshelf in the corner. Framed ornately in gold, the largest photo catches your eye and you can tell, even from a distance, it is probably the last recent photo Will has of his mum and dad. You wander over for a closer look, studying their happy faces, smiling at how much Will resembles his mum.
“Think this’ll do?” he says suddenly from behind you and you turn to see him holding up a grey hoodie; you are fairly certain it is the same one he always wore when you were in school together.
“Yeah, that’ll do, thank you,” you say, reaching for it. He moves closer, noticing the photograph that must have caught your attention.
With a deep sigh, he stares at the photograph for a moment before turning his eyes on you. Without saying anything, he cups your face in one large hand, staring intently into your eyes. You gaze back steadily, worried that you had upset him by looking at this photograph, afraid to have accidently brought up the past. For a moment, you both breathe in unison together, you inhale his exhale and he, yours. Finally, he leans down and kisses you. 
The kiss starts out slowly but quickly becomes heated. At last, you think to yourself with a sigh. You didn’t come home with Will with the intention of hooking up with him; you were pleased at his generosity to invite you to stay the night rather than traveling home alone by yourself. But, now that you were getting lost in his kiss, you didn’t know how you were going to stop, reveling in the feeling of his lips and the taste of his tongue on yours. 
You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, pulling on it slightly before giving him your bottom lip to suck on in return. You gently slide your tongue along his lower lip, enjoying the smoothness of the kiss as he languidly pushes his tongue into your mouth. He slides his tongue over yours and you do the same back to him. After another moment or two of blissful oblivion, he pulls back, looking down at you with hooded eyes. 
Desire stirs in his blown pupils and you are certain he can see the fire reflected in yours as the savage storm inside of you threatens to spill over from your carefully maintained control. You have tried to be good...have tried to give your heart time to mend before going any further, but tasting his kiss was slowly breaking your resolve. 
Setting his forgotten hoodie down on a nearby armchair, he leads you by the hand towards the leather sofa, pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. His head tilts on the back of the couch as he watches you settle yourself in his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. Staring into his fathomless blue eyes, you find yourself getting lost, sinking to the bottom of those ocean-blue depths. 
Time seems to slow down. Your fingertips caress his face lightly, over his cheekbone and down his sharp jaw, ghosting over his perfect lips, tracing their shape, and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a bit at the back. His large, warm hands rest on your hips, squeezing lightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows; his breathing steady, he seems content to watch you while you stroke his face. 
Your eyes flicker back to his and you both simultaneously resume your kiss; you trail kisses along his jawline towards his right ear, purposefully tickling it lightly with your breath. He shifts slightly under you, fingers tangling in your hair, and he huskily whispers in your ear, “Tell me how you like it.”
Those simple words ignite the fire in your chest. You chuckle softly while unbidden, dark thoughts race through your mind. Oh…you knew perfectly well what you wanted him to do. The deepest part of your subconscious mind ferally roars to be let out of her cage. Your heartbeat picks up as you momentarily remember what it feels like to be alive again and your hunger for him quickly begins to overpower any common sense you still possess. 
Slow down, don’t move so fast, your inner voice whispers to you, echoing in a distant chamber of your empty brain.  
You pause, pretending to contemplate his question as you lick the outer edge of his ear, needing to taste his skin. You press your body close to his, absolutely sure he can feel your heartbeat thunder in your chest. 
Ignoring your inner warning completely, you whisper into his ear in turn, “I want you to hurt me.” The words escape your lips before you have a second chance to think about it. You bite down on his neck, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to get his attention by emphasizing your meaning.
He jumps a little at the unexpected pain and sucks in a breath. “Hurt you?” He pulls away, his blue eyes searching yours, a slight frown creasing between his eyebrows. You knew it was not in his nature to be rough with a woman and what you were asking was probably pushing his limit.
“Please, Will?” you beg sweetly, not wanting to completely scare him at this point. 
Your mental sanity was slipping but you knew he could help you, you just had to show him how. How could you tell him that, by wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing, you could finally have clarity again? How do you explain to him that you want to see bite marks and bruises on your skin without sounding like a total psycho? That, by giving yourself completely to him, when he has total control over you, releases your anxiety and frees your mind? You are sick of the mental anguish, the voices in your head, always at war with yourself, always trying to do the right thing, the pain of your past always simmering just below your surface. All you wanted was for it all to stop. Just for a moment. 
He regards you intently, his tongue darting out, moistening his bottom lip as you see his decision form in his eyes. “Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asks quietly as he studies your face. His change of tone is subtle but you immediately pick up on it. He’s turning the tables like he’s the one asking for permission now. 
“I’m sure,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Do your worst,” you challenge. “But I gotta warn you, I may bite and scratch a little,” you tell him seductively.
He smirks. “Good, because you’ll crawl and beg too,” he promises ominously, his gaze darkening so his eyes almost look black in the low light as his face hardens. “Well, well, well, who knew you had this side to you, Y/N?” he purrs at you, voice low and deep.
Considering just how quickly he acquiesced, you silently find yourself thinking the same thing about him. You didn’t expect this side of Will, but the sultry tone of his voice has your heartbeat racing, longing to know more of what he could do to you.
His hands roam over your body, up from your hips, over your ribcage and back down your spine, moving lower to grab a chunk of your ass and squeeze. Lifting you suddenly by your ass, he suddenly flips you over, so that he’s on top of you on the couch. Propping himself up on his elbows, he kisses you deeply, his tongue moving over yours as he dominates your mouth. You feel his length stiffen against your core and you can’t help but grind your hips into his, seeking friction, moaning involuntarily at the way he is consuming you. Moving from your mouth down your body, he places hot, open-mouth kisses and sharp bites to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone.  
Hindered by your cotton sundress, he reaches for the buttons that lace the front, undoing them slowly, kissing and sucking every inch of new skin that he exposes. He unties the sash at your waist, continuing lower as you run your fingers through his hair, squirming underneath him.
Suddenly, he stops and sits up. “I have an idea,” he says as he finishes the last button on your dress, laying it open, exposing your matching bra and lace panties to him. His eyes roam over your curves, dark with longing. “And I’ll need the sash on your dress,” he adds. 
He rises from the couch to allow you room to remove the sash from your dress and you wonder what’s coming next. He moves to the coffee table where he had dropped all his things earlier and you notice him picking up his lighter. Eyeing him apprehensively, you think to yourself "what the hell?”
“Will…are you sure we won’t get caught?” you ask, feeling like a teenager all over again hooking up in your parents’ basement while trying not to make any noise.
“Nah, Nan doesn’t do stairs well anymore,” Will shrugs, unconcerned. You hand him the sash from your dress.
“One more thing,” he says as he cleverly unhooks your bra with one hand. “Good, now lay back down,” his tone leaves no room for argument. 
Obediently, you do as you’re told, shivering slightly as your bare skin rests on the cool leather of the couch. You feel open and exposed as you watch him drink in the sight of your appearance, his eyes lingering on your breasts. Being topless on his couch where anyone could see suddenly feels so erotic. Your breathing picks up speed as you realize he intends to blindfold you with your sash and you decide to play along. Once it’s secure, he kisses your lips lightly, abruptly biting down on your bottom lip. You gasp in surprise, pleasure coursing through your body at the unexpected pain. 
“Remember, you asked for this,” he growls into your ear.
Straining your other senses, you feel him move away from you for a moment, hearing the sound of clinking ice. “Now, don’t scream and stay still,” he says in a low tone as ice cold liquid suddenly moves over your skin, first near your neck at your collarbone, and then down between your breasts, circling each nipple, their peaks stiffening immediately. You jump and gasp at the unexpected cold sensation, a shiver running through your body as your skin melts the ice. 
You moan quietly and almost miss the next sound, the snick of his lighter. You freeze in place, fear momentarily clutching at your heart…Surely not? Did he intend to burn you? You curse internally, Does he know what he’s doing? Your breath becomes rapid as you wait for the pain, senses heightened by the blindfold. 
Instead, a warm liquid drips onto your skin, everywhere the ice cube had been moments before. It immediately hardens upon contact and you realize what it is: candle-wax. You feel the liquid drizzle on your breasts and stomach, warm but not unpleasant, it cools almost instantaneously when it touches your skin, cold from the ice.
Repeating the process, Will continues dripping some down your inner thighs, alternating between cold ice and hot wax. You quiver and whimper in pleasure, your chest rising and falling with each breath. You unexpectedly feel his breath on your left nipple as his warm tongue caresses the sensitive bud, while he massages the other breast with his hand. Your back arches off the couch, the sensations between hot and cold and his mouth on you starting to become overwhelming. 
You squirm as you feel him climbing on top of you, settling between your legs, brushing away some of the hardened wax. Tantalizingly, you feel his fingertips skate under the band of your panties.
“God, you are so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathes and you can feel the heat in your cheeks at his compliment. “Lift your hips for me,” he murmurs as he pulls your underwear off, discarding them on the floor while placing a pillow under your bottom, elevating you for him. Panting as the cool air hits your hot pussy, you ache for him to finally touch you there. 
“Hmm, such a pretty, perfect little pussy you have,” his fingertips part your folds, opening you up to him, “Already so wet for me,” he growls as you feel him gather your slick on his fingers, bringing it up to your pearl, rubbing it with light circles. As much as you want him to touch you, it takes everything in you not to close your legs, keeping them open for his inspection, his actions made ever more sensual as you are still blindfolded and can’t see his expression at all.  
You feel him lower himself between your legs as he wraps his strong arms around your thighs. You hear him inhale, then he blows cool air directly onto your aching core. Jesus Fucking Christ, you think as your pussy automatically clenches down around nothing, and you mewl pathetically, practically begging for more. 
Ignoring your wishes, he begins kissing the insides of your thighs, biting and sucking and making sure he leaves bruises behind, just like you secretly want him to. After what seems like eternity, you feel his sharp nose run through your soaked folds, his luscious lips attach to your pearl and he sucks deeply.
Ecstasy at finally being touched the way you want, you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a loud moan, fearful of waking his Nan at the most inopportune time. You know you’re in trouble as you’ve never been quiet in bed and you hated the thought of having to start now. You quickly shove a pillow over your face, muffling your noises as he fucks you.
Will chuckles at your struggle, his tongue pushing into you, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit. You suddenly feel a finger at your entrance, sliding in easily given how wet you were for him. He strokes inside of you for a moment before inserting a second finger, wiggling them on the way in, stretching your pussy and brushing that spongy spot inside. Electricity zings through your core and into your chest with his touch, causing you to let out a muffled cry. You’re sure your heart skips several beats as he continues stroking inside of you, curling his fingers and beckoning your orgasm forward. Writhing and moaning like a slut, you buck your hips up into his face, the pleasure consuming you. 
“Hmm, so tight. Just the way I always imagined,” he whispers, almost to himself. The fact that Will, your sweet Will, was talking so dirty turns you on even more. The room is full of your pants and moans and lewd noises coming from your wet core.
Expertly alternating his tongue between flicking your clit and sucking on it, he sets a steady rhythm with his fingers, consistently brushing that rough patch inside of you, your orgasm approaching almost embarrassingly quick. Breathing heavily into the pillow, you let out a muffled cry as your release washes over you, shattering in his face, legs trembling uncontrollably. You feel your walls pulse around his fingers as he continues to fuck you through your peak. 
Coming down from your high, you remove the offending pillow from your face, panting heavily and muttering a string of curses. You rip your blindfold off so you can see his face. He’s still crouched between your thighs, his lips wet from your slick, looking indecently triumphant at making you cum so quickly. Without hesitating you reach for him, pulling him back up your body, slamming your lips against his. You revel at the salty taste of yourself on his tongue.
You can’t remember the last time a man ate your pussy so well. Crazed with lust, you reach to undo his pants, with Will suckling at your neck. There was nothing that you wanted more in this moment than to have his cock in your mouth as you unzip his jeans. 
Realizing what you are trying to do, he rises above you, assuming control once again. “So eager for my cock now, are you?” a devilish smirk plays on his lips. “I need you on your knees.”
Christ, you think to yourself as you hastened to obey. You had never experienced this dominant side of Will, but you could feel the slick forming between your thighs again from his simple command. 
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Sitting on the couch, knees spread, he’s pulled his cock out but his jeans are still on, pumping himself with his right hand. He watches your expression, breathing deeply through his long, straight nose. 
Your hands slide up his thighs and you finally get a good look at his cock - thick and veiny, his length stands proudly erect against his stomach, the head weeping slightly; he’s impressively large. His patch of hair is kept trimmed and neat, his balls round and smooth with a light dusting of finer hair.  
You gulp involuntarily at the sight of him; you had no idea he was so big. Your eyes flick up to meet his own and he raises his eyebrows at you, as if to say yeah, I know it’s big. 
You smirk at his audaciousness as you tug at his pants and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his jeans and boxers completely off. You were naked, why shouldn’t he be too? you reason with yourself, eagerly removing his clothes, although he still had his t-shirt on.
Kneeling between his legs, you gently wrap your hand around his cock, enjoying the soft velvety texture of it, swiping your thumb over the weeping head, watching his face. You pump him a few times, feeling the weight of his impressive length heavy in your hand. 
He sucks in a breath when you wrap your lips around his cock and begin taking him as far as you can, your hand continuing to pump the rest that won’t fit in your mouth. You breathe through your nose and relax your throat, attempting to take him further. His breathing is quick and shallow as he moves his hips gently, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you move up and down his length. You can feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and feel momentary pride that you never had much of a gag reflex. Your other hand gently cups his balls and gives them a gentle massage. 
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He groans in pleasure and closes his eyes, tilting his head on the back of the couch as you continue your ministrations. Slurping noises fill the room as you repeatedly swirl your tongue over the tip. Flattening your tongue, you lick a strip up the vein in the middle of his shaft like a lollipop before fastening your mouth around the head and sucking harshly. You moan around his cock as you feel your core start to ache all over again, so turned on by giving him pleasure. 
As you work him, his fingers tangle in your hair; he doesn’t use force, only guiding your motions as you slurp and suck on him. After a few more passes with your mouth and tongue, his fingers tighten on your hair, pulling you away from his cock. Confused, you look up at him with pleading eyes, wanting to continue.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last very long.” He stands suddenly, dragging you up from the floor by your hair. You whine at the pain but an insane smile plays on your lips, impressed how committed he was to this dominant role and you secretly love the pain.
He hauls you towards his bedroom, flipping on the lamp at the bedside table. Letting go of your hair, he turns to you and removes his shirt, grabbing from behind his neck and pulling it up over his head. The first thing you notice is the silver necklace he’s always worn, even years ago during your school days, hanging around his neck. You glance at the cross, before your eyes drink in the sight of his naked body, admiring his strong shoulders, muscular chest, and toned abs. 
Prowling towards you, he presses his body to yours, the heat coming off of him in waves and warming your naturally cooler skin. His hands reach for your hips as he holds you close to him, a moment of tenderness, your arms circling around his neck. 
Just as you think he’s leaning down to kiss you, suddenly he’s bending down, grabbing you by the thighs, and unceremoniously throwing you onto the bed. The bed makes for a soft landing but it momentarily stuns you as you crash down upon it, having no time to recover as he’s suddenly on top of you again, caging you in with his muscular arms, resting between your thighs. He lowers his mouth to yours, ravaging you again, his fingers in your hair, holding you still for him. 
You whine loudly into his mouth, needing him, your core aching for him, desperate for more. You want to feel his large cock stretch you, the anticipation eating at your patience. He’s moving back down your body again, biting harshly on your nipple, then moving his tongue over the sore spot to ease the pain. His thumb finds your clit as he repeats the bite to your other breast. You arch your back towards him as he continually switches between giving you pain and pleasure, your mind going blissfully numb. 
Suddenly, he's kissing back up your body, but your core is still aching to be touched. You mewl, rubbing your thighs together. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he whispers darkly.
Laying down on his side next to you, he slides a hand between your breasts, down your stomach and onto your aching core where he doesn't waste time, inserting two fingers and setting a brutal pace. The palm of his hand rubs your clit and his long fingers reach deep inside you, repeatedly stroking that rough spot. Your heart jolts again at the sensation, you’re panting and moaning uncontrollably as he fucks you ruthlessly with his fingers. Just as soon as your walls begin to pulsate, he takes his hand away and you look up at him in horror.
“Oh, no worries, love, you’re gonna cum again, but it’s gonna be on my cock,” he purrs into your ear.
You huff and pant, deciding to tease him a little in return. You reach for his fingers that were just inside of you, his middle and ring fingers coated with your slick. Maintaining eye contact, you watch his face as you insert each finger into your mouth, licking him clean. You close your lips and hum around his fingers, enjoying your salty taste. His mouth hangs open and you observe his chest rising and falling more rapidly as he stares at your hot mouth sucking on his fingers.
“Fuck,” he murmurs hoarsly, suddenly positioning himself between your legs once his fingers are clean. Laying his body on top of yours, you relish in the feeling of his warm weight pressing you into the bed, chest to chest, skin to skin, your hips cradling his. Your hands caress the broad planes of his back and shoulders as he sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey you know you won’t be able to hide. Your hips buck up into his, your patience gone, you need him to be inside you.
“Will, please,” you beg pathetically, reaching down and stroking his cock, attempting to guide it to your entrance.
“Didn’t I promise you would beg for it?” he whispers, a smug smile on his lips as he knows what a pathetic, mewling mess he has already made of you. 
Sitting back on his heels between your legs, he pumps himself a few times, his eyes hooded and dark, raking over your body that’s laid out on the bed before him. He takes his thumb and circles your clit, guiding his cock with his other hand to your entrance. He teases you, sliding just the head in and back out again. His mouth is open slightly and he pants a little as he tortures you by not giving you what you want. You inhale sharply at first as his thick head stretches your pussy, but soon start to squirm and whine, needing his cock to fill you up. Without warning, he grabs you by your hips and thrusts into you, your pussy clenching down on his cock at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed, you suck in a sharp breath and let out a small cry at the pain of the sudden stretch as he hurts you so good. 
He lowers his body back onto yours once he’s buried himself to the hilt in your wet heat where he pauses, allowing you to adjust to him. You take a few deep breaths through your nose, pulling him closer to you, nibbling on his neck and shoulders to distract yourself from the stretching of your pussy around his thick cock. You can feel every ripple, every vein, every ridge of his cock inside of you. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans into your neck at the sensation of being squeezed, filling you so deliciously. Capturing your lips again with his own, he doesn’t move above you, hips still against yours.
You moan into his mouth, tugging at the back of his hair, raking your nails down his back, ready for him to finally move. He gives a few shallow thrusts, watching your face, making sure you’re okay. Satisfied that you aren’t in any more pain, he pulls out and slams his hips back into yours and you cry aloud as another jolt of electric pleasure courses through you.
His hips roll into yours with a steady rhythm and you pant as the drag of his cock continually rubs against your g-spot, sending more electric currents through your pussy. His face is still in your neck and you grab the back of his hair, breathing harshly into his ear, overwhelmed at the sensation of his cock inside of you.
He adjusts positions to hover over you, his damn silver necklace swinging in your face. He grips your thigh with one hand as he drags it up over his hip, the other hand slides up your chest, his long fingers wrapping around your throat as he slams into you relentlessly, holding you in place for him. He’s careful not to push on your windpipe, rather putting pressure on the sides of your neck, giving you room to breathe. 
The noises of heavy breathing and skin slapping erotically fills the room, the smell of sex in the air. You grip the wrist that’s wrapped around your throat, the better to hold on as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours. You feel the strength of his arm holding you down, corded with muscle, watching as his abs flex with every thrust into you. The primal knowledge of his strength and power, the thought that he could easily crush your windpipe without even trying, the feel of his cock stretching your walls, the scent of his body, the heat radiating off of him takes over your senses until there is nothing left but him. Your body submits to him, your numb brain surrendering as you allow him total control over you.
Grunting and breathing heavily, he curses under his breath, “So tight…..fuckin’ hell,” he says between thrusts.
With his punishing pace, you can feel your walls fluttering around his cock, constantly sucking him back in as he repeatedly hits your spongy spot. You reach between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. 
He glances down at your hand, “You gonna cum for me, love? God, I can feel you clenching, your pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he groans, voice seductively deep. “Look at you taking this dick so well. Who does your pussy belong to?” he asks suddenly, squeezing around your neck a little for emphasis and thrusting into you harshly.  
Your breath coming out in gasps, his question only fuels the pleasure building deep within, his possessive energy consuming you.
“Y…you, Will,” you whimper his name, barely able to form a coherent thought. 
“That’s what I thought,” he grunts back, never slowing his pace. 
You can feel your orgasm approaching, ecstasy building steadily, you start babbling uncontrollably, willing him to keep going. 
“Will,” you pant, your breathing harsh, “I’m - I’m coming, Will. Please… don’t stop….” 
A moment later he practically growls as your cunt clenches around his cock, pistoning his hips into yours as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, waves of pleasure crashing over you, one wave rolling into the next. You cry aloud, hardly hearing the volume of your own voice, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your breathing fast and labourious and you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. 
He pounds into you, sustaining your pleasure through your peak, somehow managing not to cum himself until your cries die down. He pulls out of you, pumping himself the last few strokes, squirting his hot seed all over your belly. “Fucking perfect little pussy, took me so well,” he pants, breathing heavily. 
Your body feels like a limp noodle and immediately your eyes feel heavy, all you can manage to do is continue laying there, trying to catch your breath while Will retrieves a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom. He cleans himself off of you, gently rubbing over your stomach, even wiping the mess of slick from between your thighs. You jump and whimper a little at the sensation as he brushes over your abused pussy, so sensitive after multiple orgasms, but you can tell he is trying to be as gentle as possible. 
After your thorough cleaning, you both slide down into the sheets of his bed, still naked, facing one another. Neither of you speak, content to only gaze at the other. Reaching for him, you trail your fingertips over his shoulders and chest and down his arms, as if by touching him, you are making sure he is real. His eyes blink at you slowly, calm and content. 
“Was that too rough for you? I didn’t do too much?” he asks quietly after a moment, you can hear the concern in his voice, worried that he took it too far with you.
A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You lean over to him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Not at all, you were perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” 
He gives you a small smile of satisfaction in return, brushing the hair from your face. You snuggle back down into his chest, both of you falling into a deep and peaceful slumber. Wrapped in his arms, curled into the heat of his body, enveloped in his smell, it was the best night’s sleep you had had in a very long time.
>>>Part 3
Tags: @sylas-the-grim @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @aemondsscar @highinthetower @cyeco13 @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy
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The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy
CHAPTER 14 - ENDING
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)
Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N
Words: 10K
Author's Note: Well! This is it! I'll be honest, I may write some epilogues, detailing the wedding and possibly kids and stuff like that cause I am legit obsessed with the dynamic Leon and the reader have and I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be over.
Thanks to anyone who read, commented, like, ANYTHING on this! It means the world to me! Also anyone from AO3 who came over to comment or anything like that! I love you!
THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT
Masterlist
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January 2005
Nuh-uh, uh-uh, don’t wanna do this now
There’s just inches in between us
I want you to give in, I want you to give in
There is tension in between us
I just wanna give in
And I don’t care if I’m forgiven
-Shameless, Camila Cabello
He’s late. This isn’t the ‘traffic was bad’ late. It’s ‘someone is going to show up at your door with a KIA notice’ late. The anxiety has been eating me alive for the past 3 days.
The first day was fine. He’s been that late before. The second day is when it began. The twisting in my gut as I checked my phone to see nothing. The gnawing sensation that crawled up my spine every time someone walked into the infirmary that wasn’t him. The squeeze of my heart at footsteps in the hallway that walked right past.
Then the fourth day rolled around. I felt sick, physically. Barely able to eat anything other than a mandatory protein shake that Dr. Dalton practically poured down my throat himself, soft reassurances of ‘I’m sure he’s fine, sweetheart.’ Sweetheart. The term of endearment that Leon had called me so many times made my ears twitch in confusion at hearing it in a tone that wasn’t Leon’s. Shaking hands. This is how it feels to love someon- No. This is how it feels to love Leon. I’m sure Lilian doesn’t feel this way when Jasper is late coming home. He was supposed to be home 4 days ago. He sounded exhausted when he called, saying everything was okay - that he was okay - and that he would be home the next day. That was 5 days ago.
“You alright?” Thomas, the new medical intern asks, his dark brown eyes shining with affection. He had asked me on a date a week and a half ago, the day before Leon left. I agreed, feeling guilty saying no to the first man who had asked me on a date in years. I can’t wait on Leon forever, right? Deep down, I knew it was wrong to agree to a date when I was so deeply infatuated with someone else, but he looked so excited. So proud of himself for working up the courage to ask. Maybe there was a part of me that liked the idea of someone wanting me. Wishing for me the same way I wish for a man who views me as nothing more than his best friend.
I have done plenty of dumb shit in my life. Who hasn’t? But this? This is a new level of stupid.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I mumble into my wine glass, red lipstick smudging slightly across the rim. The restaurant was lively around us, with waiters and patrons flitting around through tables of deep mahogany. The food was delicious, or at least it smelt that way as it passed by our table.
Thomas is being overly patient. He hasn’t asked why we’re our on third glasses of wine, yet still have yet to move past the toasted bread that arrived when we sat down. My tight black cocktail dress feels too scratchy on my skin despite the reason that I bought it being that it was made of soft velvet. My shoes dig into my ankles uncomfortably, forcing me to shift my feet continuously to relieve the irritating bite.
“Dr. Dalton told me about your friend.” I jerk my head to him like he slapped me, guilt and shame beginning to practically leak from my eyes in the form of tears. You’ll ruin your makeup, stop. “I get why you’re worried. Maybe we should reschedule? For when he’s home?” 
‘Sweetheart, you're making the air around you vibrate with the sheer force of your anxiety. You need to calm the fuck down.’ I can practically hear Leon’s voice in my ears. Thomas is nice. Leon would never allow me to be this anxious, he’d make fun of me until I couldn’t remember why I can feel the sweat pooling against the pits of my dress. I nod, noting how rude it is that I’m comparing a date to my best friend.
“Yeah, that’d be good.” He gets the bill, and while I offer to help, he refuses. A gentleman.
‘No way, sweetheart, I do have some manners.’
Get out of my head. Please, Leon.
The drive is short, and while I assure him that I’m alright, Thomas insists on walking me all the way to my door. I unlock it easily, turning the key and flipping on the light, muscles tense and tight with poorly contained anxiety.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” He asks, almost like he doesn’t know how else to end the evening as I turn to say goodnight.
“I’m off tomorrow, but the day after, absolutely.”
“Oh okay, well then I’ll-” He stops, glancing behind me, confusion etched on his features. I whirl around, fight or flight ready to force a reaction from me. Holy fuck.
“Leon?” I practically cry, rushing into his arms and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I barely notice the sound of the door closing, my date for the evening clearly getting the memo of ‘time to go.’ Leon’s arms come around my waist, a soft touch that isn’t like him. Preparing to be lifted like usual, but nothing like usual happens. He pulls away instead. He backs up, quickly taking notice of my clothing choice before crossing his arms across his chest. “Are you okay? You were supposed to be home 4 days ago.”
“I’m fine,” he practically huffs, turning to walk back toward his room. I reach forward, fingers landing in the crook of his elbow to catch his attention but he pulls away.
“Leon, what the hell?” I demand, frustration rising. Maybe he’s just tired?
“Don’t worry about it,” he states, pulling himself from my grip with a sigh of my name. Not Nurse Nosy. Not Sweetheart. My name. I feel anger bubble up in my chest. I spent days worrying about him, and he can’t even let me at least check him for injuries? He won’t even let me touch him. I’m aggressively reminded of a time when he shut himself off at the slightest push in a direction he didn’t like. It builds with every step he takes down the hallway, into his room.
“I was worried sick about you.” Leon stops. He’s still wearing his boots, his black cargo pants, and a tight compression shirt that is torn in multiple places. Those black fingerless gloves. His watch. His blonde hair is greasy, stringy. He hasn’t even showered yet. I hear him scoff before he turns, hands tucked into his pockets as if his face wasn’t burning with irritation as he looks at me.
“Yeah, I’m sure. You seemed so concerned.” He gestures in the direction of the front door with his eyes. Oh no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
“I had him bring me home early because I didn’t feel right being on a date when I was practically sick with worry.” I’m gesturing wildly with my hands now, my internal temperature rising at least a few degrees with how wound up I am. Another scoff.
“Yeah, sure.” He turns away again.
“You know what, no.” Another pause was followed by a halting in his tracks. The tension in his shoulders could shatter his bones if he tried hard enough.
“No?” He hasn’t turned to look at me, but I suppose part of me is grateful for that, knowing I may lose my nerve if he looks at me like a kicked puppy.
“No. Since when do you care? I haven’t been on a date in years. Why do you suddenly care now?” I’m yelling by this point. If everyone had a threshold like a cup, mine would be overflowing with bubbling red heat. He does not get to take this shit out on me.
“I have always cared!” His tone matches mine and his eyes burn with a fury I have never seen as he whips around to face me. Nails press into his gloves, digging into the leather, presumably leaving tiny crescents in their wake.
“No, you haven’t! It was easy to not be pissed when I was always home. Always here when you got back to greet you with a hug and a smile. But now that I have things to do, suddenly now you care.” We’re gonna get a noise complaint.
“Yes I fucking have, I have always cared. You just weren’t paying enough attention to see it!” Leon points an accusatory finger at me, and it feels like a literal jab in the chest despite him being almost 6 feet away. I laugh as if this situation is amusing. As if my heart isn’t breaking.
“Please, enlighten me then Agent Kennedy, as to what exactly I’ve missed, since clearly, not everyone is as perceptive as you are.” It’s a low blow, calling him by his title, but I’m fuming so much I’m surprised steam isn’t blowing out of my ears. His slight recoil is almost enough to make me apologize. Almost.
“Don’t do that.” He sounds small. Fuck. I want to hug him, apologize for screaming at him before he has even had a chance to change his clothes and shower. But I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.
“Don’t what?” I’m riding on this wave of red, fists twisting in the soft velvet of my dress.
“Don’t Agent Kennedy me,” he utters before he brushes it off, like flipping a switch. “You know what, I’m not doing this tonight, I’m exhausted. Go makeout with whats-his-face.” That’s it.
“Excuse me? What kind of person do you think I am, dickhead?”
“Oh, you didn’t wanna shove your tongue down his throat?” He feigns surprise, a hand pressed against his chest. I have never wanted to hit someone. Ever. But right now? I want to deck him.
“I wanted to be around you! I missed you!” I’m screaming again, and I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Fuck my makeup. He clicks his tongue, and it feels more like a taunt.
“Well, you should have been home earlier then.”
“Why the hell are you punishing me? I was worried sick the entire time you were gone, especially these past few days of radio silence!” His tone is condescending as if he’s riding some high horse.
“I’m sure it was so difficult for you. Next time, I’ll send a postcard.” He has no clue how it feels. So tell him.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” My tone is calmer, fury burning just below the surface of my skin like some virus, ready to raise the fever. Leon’s lips part to respond, but I don’t let him. “Every knock on that door when you’re gone scares the shit outta me because I’m expecting it to be some suit, telling me that you’re dead or worse. I get that what you do isn’t easy, but don’t try to make me feel guilty when all I ever did was worry about you.” My words have an effect on him, his demeanor shifting from one of defense and attack to… almost regret, it seems.
“I never meant to worry you, but you knew what you signed up for when you asked me to move in.” Leon’s tone has shifted. We’re no longer screaming at each other but with the barely-held-together emotions running rampant in the room, I can’t tell if this is better or worse than when we were screaming.
“You’re right. I did,” I concede, and for a second, his blues show a flash of confusion. “But I didn’t sign up to be punished for trying to live my life.”
“I’m not punishing you-” His tone is rising again as he rotates his body to face away from me, not entirely turned. He’s facing my bedroom door.
“Yes, you fucking are, Leon! Why are you so mad about me going on a date? Is it cause you don’t have time to go on one of your own?” It’s the only logical reason I can think of as to why he’s so angry. We’re screaming again.
“Because I don’t want you going on dates!” The words slam into me, turning the tidal wave of rage into a puddle. Not a big one either. The kind that you can step in with sneakers on and your socks won’t even get wet. It leaves a dark pit of bewilderment in its wake. Complete and utter confusion.
“Why?” He’s silent. Leather-covered palms press into his eyes as he huffs in frustration. He wants me to leave it alone. Wants me to back off, letting him close back into himself, where he thinks no one can find him. Where no one can hurt him. “Leon. Why don’t you want me going on dates?” His hands drop to his waist as he spins on his heel once again, and I’m floored by the intensity in his eyes. There’s almost no blue left, or at least it seems that way from where I’m standing.
“Don’t make me say it.” There’s that smallness. The look of begging. Pleading.
“Leon…” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“I’m asking you to drop it.” JUST FUCKING TALK TO ME. LET ME IN.
“No! I’m not dropping it! What the fuck do you mean?” He laughs, a full-blown sound that rings out almost maliciously as his whole body practically moves with it.
“Wow! The return of Nurse Nosy.” Fucking. Dickhead. “Never saw that one coming.”
“Fine,” I deadpan, moving toward him and turning into my room, attempting to close the door. His hand presses against the wood, forcing it to remain open, fuming bodies only a couple of feet apart now.
“What the hell are you doing?” Oh, so when he walks away, I’m the bitch. But when it’s me, I’m still the bitch.
“I’m going to bed, asshole.” I put every ounce of strength into shoving the door, but his arm holds steady. Easily.
“We’re not done.”
“Yes, we fucking are. You made that crystal clear.” Another attempt. Another failed attempt. The tears are blurring my vision, finally seeing an opportunity to pour in the privacy of my room. Away from his terrifyingly focused blue gaze.
“Would you just come back out here and talk to me?” He has no right to ask me that.
“Why?” My voice breaks on the word, and for the first time, it’s like he finally sees how I feel as his hardened features soften. How my heart is breaking and it’s spilling out from my eyes into his waiting palms. “So you can be pissed at me some more?” With his other hand, he runs his hands through his hair, touseling it even more in frustration, and while he’s not looking at me, it’s clear he’s at war with himself. “So you can make me feel like shit even more?”
“Because I love you, damn it!” He shouts again, and the tone causes me to flinch before it sluggishly catches up. He…
“What?”
“You heard me,” he admits, cheeks stained bright crimson at the admission. “So would you please just-” The words he was saying are long forgotten as I rush forward, cold hands on either side of his face and tugging him in. I love you, the words bounce around in my skull as my lips collide with his, and for a moment, he seems surprised. It only takes that long for him to catch up. Palms find my hips, pulling me flush against his warm chest, against his hammering heart. He tastes like spearmint, his lips refusing to relent until we pull back for air, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing as labored breaths pass between our now-red lips and my cheeks are wet with tears. Those ocean eyes look at me like the light spills from them, lighting his way home. A small giggle breaks the silent air, the heavy breaths.
“I pour my heart out to you and you laugh?” He mumbles, but I can practically hear the smile in his voice as I giggle again. “What’s so funny?”
“You stink.” He laughs. The sweet kind, like cold lemonade on a hot day. The kind that makes butterflies swirl inside your stomach to the point of painting your face with an unmovable grin.
“Well, someone interrupted me as I was on my way to my post-mission shower,” he teases, planting another tender kiss across my lips like he can’t get enough of them. My hands slide over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck as I nose along the line of his jaw.
“I’m so sorry. How can I make it up to you, Agent Kennedy?” The question is much more sultry than intended, my racing heart making me feel practically breathless. Leon’s eyes narrow at the nickname in mock irritation - especially because he specifically told me not to use it months ago - smile still evident as his arm drapes over the small of my back to hold my other hip, if only to add more points of contact. I’m expecting a ‘make me something to eat please?’ or maybe even a ‘kiss me more’. I am not, however, expecting his next words.
“Take it with me?”
“What?” I giggle through the question, wondering how the hell he manages to exude confidence even in situations like this, his finger pressing my chin up until our eyes lock.
“You heard me.” He repeats his earlier phrase like this single sentence holds all the power between us, and maybe it does. “Take my post-mission shower with me.” My face heats up again, and I finally understand the look he’d give me when he’d get a reaction out of me. The amusement. The pride. He wasn’t proud because he got a reaction. He was proud because it gave him hope. Hope that one day, he could kiss me like this. I can’t stop the way my eyes drop to the floor, only for him to clear his throat, drawing my attention back to him. To his lips. To those damn ocean eyes.
“Lead the way, Superman.”
“Oh, I will.” Chapped lips smushing back onto mine, muffling the squeal that rips from my chest. The leather of his fingerless gloves glide over my exposed thighs, gripping them before mumbling ‘jump’ right into my mouth, and who am I to argue with a government agent? My thighs wrap tightly around his trim waist, fingers pressing into the flesh there as Leon begins to walk, presumably carrying us to the bathroom, but for all I know, he could be walking us out into the snow. My mind is far too preoccupied with running my tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting the bitter tang of the nightcap he had, which now lies unfinished on the living room coffee table.
My back hits the wall, sandwiched between his warm chest and the chill of the painted sheetrock. A hand - I couldn’t tell you whose - reaches to flip on the bathroom light before he carries us in, closing the door before I feel the chilly countertop beneath my ass. Leaving one last kiss on my swollen lips, he pulls away - taking his warmth with him - chuckling at the small sound of disapproval leaves my lips.
“What are you-”
“Relax, I’m just turning on the shower, sunshine.” It’s hard not to stare, taking notice of the smattering of scratches that litter his arms as he reaches in to flip the water on.
“Sunshine?” I question teasingly, pressing my palms to the granite surface and leaning forward, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
“Yeah,” he smirks, removing his gloves and tossing them onto the tile flooring so he can check the temperature of the falling water. “You’ve always been this… Light in the dark for me. So ‘Sunshine’ seems fitting.” Leon’s not looking at me, but his cheeks are pink again. He must be satisfied with the temperature because he pulls back to finally meet my eyes again, stepping back up to where I’m perched. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in this dress?” He mumbles, his lips skimming the skin of my throat in soft bites and kisses.
“You haven’t.” My words come out in a breathless gasp, his hands sliding up my thighs - barely grazing the bottom hem of the black velvet fabric - massaging the flesh in his grip.
“Well, I should have,” he growls. Holy fucking shit. That’s a sound I never thought I’d hear. “Maybe you wouldn’t have gone on that date if I had.”
“I definitely wouldn’t have,” I tease, fingertips moving to climb under the fabric of his compression shirt, desperate to explore his form in ways I have never been allowed to until this moment.
“Eager, are we, sunshine?” Fucker is smirking into the kiss as if he’s faring better than I am at this moment.
“Says the one who asked me to shower with him.”
“Touché.” I grip the hem of the fabric between my digits, pushing it up his chest in an effort to rid him of it. His arms come up to aid me in my own personal mission, revealing his chest to my wandering eyes before toned arms come down on the counter on either side of my hips.
“You don’t need to be this attractive, asshole,” I murmur, almost more to myself than anything before he responds with a passionate kiss, his warm hands slipping beneath my dress to shove it above my hips, revealing a pair of lacy blue panties. A light groan spills into my mouth from him as he presses himself between my legs, hands finding the backs of my knees and yanking me forward with a yelp.
“Speak for yourself,” he argues, refusing to part from my lips for more than a second. “Fuck, can I take this fucking dress off of you?” My only reply is a nod, our foreheads tapping together because of the movement. Leon doesn’t waste another second, gripping the soft fabric and pulling it over my head without hesitation, and his eyes widen at the sight of the bra, lacy and matching perfectly with the panties. “You’re trying to kill me,” he whispers, eyes raking down my figure before I begin squirming anxiously. The room is full of steam by now, the mirror behind me completely covered and his creamy skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
“Maybe we should actually shower instead of you just staring at me?” I suggest with a nervous giggle. He finally looks back up at me, and I notice the blues in his eyes are slowly slimming, his pupils dilating.
“I think that’s a great idea.” Hands skim across my back to easily unclip my bra, tugging it down my arms until it joins his shirt in a pile on the floor, my panties soon following, leaving me completely exposed before him. This adonis of a man is looking at me like I’m the most precious piece of art he’s ever laid his eyes on.
“Feels a little unfair, don’t you think?” My arms come up to cover my chest. No one has looked at me in this state in a long time.
“Don’t,” he coaxes, grabbing my hands to rest them against his shoulders, leaning in to nuzzle into my neck and jaw again. “Please don’t hide from me. You’re gorgeous.” I hear a clinking before feeling his shoulders shift beneath my palms, undoing his belt - I assume - and then I hear his pants hit the floor, although it’s barely audible over the pattering of the water against the shower curtain. Leon takes a slow step back, holding my hands to help me down from the countertop before practically dragging me into the warm stream of water. I can’t help as my gaze drifts down, taking in the wet ridges of his abs, to the v of his hips, and down until his voice forces my eyes back up in embarrassment. 
“My eyes are up here, baby.” He closes the shower curtain with a teasing smile.
“Sorry.” My voice is shaking.
“Sunshine,” he soothes, hands finding my hips to pull me against his body in what was supposed to be a comforting hug. It quickly dissipates into anything but as I feel his hard length against my stomach, slick practically dripping from my center by this point. “You’re fine. I’m teasing you.”
“Well, you did always say I was easy to tease,” I mumble into his chest, using his embrace as an excuse to hide my blush.
“That you are, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my now-wet hair. “Although I do actually need to shower.” Reaching for his shampoo while still keeping an arm locked around me, I take a deep breath before taking it from him.
“Can I wash your hair?” I question, looking up at him through my lashes.
“How could I say no to that?” Leaning down so it’s easier for me to reach him, I pour the pine-scented shampoo into my palm, rubbing them together before lathering the soap into his scalp. The agent releases a string of curses and groans as I massage his head, knowing from experience that he really enjoys it. Shifting around so that his head is under the water, I rinse the suds from his blonde locks, a soft smile pulling at my lips.
“Maybe this should be the new tradition.” The words are said without thought, falling from my lips.
“What?”
“Me taking your post-mission shower with you.” Fingers tighten around my waist as a small grunt departs from his throat, sounding more like it came from his chest.
“That sounds perfect.” He’s breathless. “Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Wet lips pressing to mine, hands gripping my thighs and lifting, not even prompting me to jump as I’m brought against his body, trapping his cock between us. A jolt runs through my spine like lightning at the sensation and my back hits the cold shower wall, thighs tightening around Leon’s waist.
“Impatient, are we Superman?” It’s mumbled into his mouth and I can feel his smile in response.
“Take one look at you, and tell me I shouldn’t be impatient.”
“Maybe not in the shower though?” I giggle, and the chill sets in as the water begins to run cold.
“Maybe not,” he says with his own chuckle, dropping my feet to the floor before steadying me, the floor slick as he moves to switch off the brisk water from falling on my bare shoulders. His arm comes around them to tug me close to his chest, the heat radiating off of him creating a heat wave in the middle of January. With a goofy smile, I lean out and grab a towel from where it hangs before throwing it over his head.
“I think pink is a good color for you, Superman.” Damp blonde locks emerge from the pink fabric with a cacophony of light chuckles and shy smiles filling the room.
“Yeah? I think it looks much better on you, sweetheart.” The cockiness has returned to his tone, and I roll my eyes at his shifted behavior.
“Oh really? And what makes you say that?” I sass, ready to take him on. In more ways than one.
“Cause it’s the prettiest color I could turn your cheeks.” His tone sends heat straight to my core as he steps forward, the pink towel wrapped around his neck, inches between our noses.
“We both know you can easily make me blush. This isn’t new info, Leon.” Don’t back down from this.
“You’re right. It’s really easy.” Leon brings the towel over his head to wrap it around my back. The gesture seems sweet. For a minute. Tugging on the towel, it forces my chest against his, wet skin sliding against wet skin. “I fully intend to make you turn every shade of pink tonight.” And then he’s picking me up again. Holding me is easy for him, with years of strength training proving to be useful for pleasurable purposes as well as he carries me into my - Our bedroom? - I’ll need to ask him about that, I suppose. As my mind wanders, the agent doesn’t hesitate to throw me unceremoniously onto my - our bed, a small yelp leaving my throat at the sudden drop.
“Leon you can’t just throw me around!”
“See, I think you like it.” He mutters, voice dropping into a lower octave, gravely and rough as he rests his weight onto his hands - which are on either side of my head. “I think you like how much stronger I am. I think it gets you going, baby.”
“Is that so?” I say, voice shaking with barely contained arousal, and Leon being, well Leon, knows this. With a nod, he presses his lips to the column of my throat, sucking a smattering of red marks onto the skin. My teeth clamp over my bottom lip, muffling the sounds that threaten to leave my voicebox, but clearly, Leon has other ideas. His hand presses to my jaw before his thumb caresses my chin, applying light pressure until my lip slips from between my teeth.
“Don’t hide any of those sounds from me, gorgeous,” he commands, and I’m reminded of his position in his career. The power he holds at the young age of 27. I nod in his hold, goosebumps prickling across my skin as he nips at my tender skin. His name leaves my lips in a muffled whimper; hands tracing soft patterns into my arms before his lips dance across my collarbone, his teeth pressing into the bone as a quick gasp breaks from my mouth. “Good girl.”
“Leon,” I whimper as his mouth drags lower, pressing soft kisses to my sternum, between my boobs as I lace my fingers through his blonde locks. “You can’t just say that.”
“Aww, why not, sunshine?” He teases, his hot breath teasing across my pebbled nipple, his warm hand coming down to cover the neglected breast. He looks up, as if he’s waiting for something. “Can I?” I nod, his blue eyes practically swallowed up by the dark pupil that swells in his arousal.
“Yeah.” The word is a breath released into the quickly cooling air. It’s all he needs before his warm lips close around the nub, suckling gently before his tongue swirls over it. I gasp, back arching slightly as my eyes squeeze shut, fingers tightening in his hair as he releases a small groan against my flesh.
“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” he mumbles against my skin, almost to himself before his lips seal again, tonguing it before switching to the other nipple. “Can I taste you?” His tone is almost desperate. It takes my mind a moment to catch up to what he means before I nod with a mumbled ‘please’.
He doesn’t waste another second, planting wet kisses down my stomach, licking and suckling as he goes solely to illicit reactions from me, which leave him chuckling against my flesh.
“Leon-”
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he hushes, pulling my thighs apart easily as he settles between them, lips and teeth grazing across my inner thigh before giving the other the same treatment until I can practically feel myself dripping onto the mattress below me. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this…”
“Really?” I find myself asking as my heart thumps against my chest. He’s thought about this?
“God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you, baby girl?” He sighs, nosing along the length of my thigh. I can’t stop my fingers from involuntarily twitching, giving his locks an accidental tug.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay, baby. I like knowing how good I’m making you feel.” His blue eyes focus on mine, and I almost pass out at the sight of his damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead, naked shoulders that have my thighs thrown over them haphazardly as he licks his chapped lips. “Tell me this is okay.”
“Please, Leon…” The words come out as a whimper (I didn’t even realize I could whimper), and for a split second, I doubt I have ever been this desperate for anything.
“Good girl,” he whispers, breath tickling against my core and I can barely contain my groan before a squeak rips from my throat, his tongue running a hot stripe across my sex. Well, that’s a new feeling.
“God-” I yelp, squeezing my eyes shut as shivers run up my spine. Leon chuckles against me, tongue plunging into my opening to drink straight from the source before he pulls back to speak.
“Just me, sunshine.” I roll my eyes, laughing just a bit before the agent’s lips seal around my clit, sucking enough to tug the chord in my spine taunt, my back bending as my fingers tighten. Leon groans at the gentle tightening of his damp hair, the vibration traveling straight into my core. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”
“Leon, please just… Please kiss me…” I whimper as I attempt to bring him back up, but he holds firm before dropping wet kisses to my clit, ending each kiss with a light suckle. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You didn’t clarify. I’m giving you kisses, just like you asked.” His smirk is practically audible as he plants more smooches, despite my protests and groans. Fingers gently prod at my entrance, and I can’t help but tense. “Do you wanna stop, sweetheart?”
“No!” I answer, almost too quickly, and the feeling of his smile presses against my thigh before he covers it with licks and bites.
“Then relax,” he assures, hand running soothing circles over any skin he can reach. It takes another moment of his tongue twirling around my nub before I loosen my muscles enough for a thick digit to slowly press inside my heat. “Good girl.” Fuck that should not be a turn on. “Oh you do like that,” he whispers, almost to himself as I tighten around his finger. He picks a leisurely pace to thrust his finger in, basking in each sound he pulls from my lungs before he adds a second, following the same treatment, stretching me to accommodate his length.
“Leon, fuck I can’t…”
“Don’t challenge me, sweetheart. I’m not moving from this spot until you come around my fingers,” he mumbles into my core, fingers moving faster as his mouth works double time on my clit until the white-hot heat rips through me and I come with a high-pitched squeak. My muscles relax one by one, both of his hands rubbing soothing patterns over my skin as I come down from my high with breathless pants, and I realize I barely felt him remove his fingers.
“It should be illegal for you to be that good at that,” I mumble with a breathless giggle, and he chuckles as he leans up, wiping his lips and chin with his arm before pressing his lips back to mine. I can taste myself as his tongue prods against mine for a brief second.
“I’m gonna be spending a lot of time down there, sunshine,” he whispers into my ear as he grips my thighs, pulling them tight around his waist and I gasp at the feeling of him pressing against my pubic bone. “If you want to stop, we can,” he mumbles against my mouth. I shake my head aggressively.
“No, I’m fine.” The offer warms my heart though. “I’ve waited too long for you already.”
“Me too.” He doesn’t hesitate to move toward me, rutting himself against my heat with a groan of his own. He reaches down, leaning all his weight down on one arm, pressing himself against my slick opening before stopping, looking at me with a look that screams ‘Are you sure?’ My answer comes in the form of kissing him again, and he chuckles against my mouth. I’ll never get tired of this.
With the reassurances out of the way, his hips shift, pressing himself forward and my fingers tighten in his hair at the slight intrusion. “Are you okay, sunshine?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I whisper, breath tickling his lips.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He practically breathes the words, trying to halt the involuntary actions of his hips that send my brain into a spiral before I have to contain the breathy laugh that threatens to ring out.
“I swear to god, Lee, if you ask me that one more time, I’m gonna…” I say with a smile, trailing off, hoping he’ll get my point, but why would I be so lucky?
“You’re gonna what, sunshine?” He whispers into my ear with a chuckle of his own and I move my arms to press against his shoulder blades as he continues his ruthless teasing. “Tell me what you’ll do, baby.”
“Fuck you, Kennedy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the pillow in frustration.
“If you insist.” It takes a moment for my brain to catch up, but it catches up fast when Leon shifts his hips, pressing himself into my tight channel with a rumbling shudder until his hips are flush against mine. He’s trembling almost as much as I am. For a moment, neither of us moves, content in our tight embrace, as close as two people can possibly be. Breathing the same breaths, hearts practically beating in sync as his arms rest on either side of my head, surrounding me in the sweet scent of him. His name falls from my lips as a shaky breath, both of our hands roaming over the others skin without barrier. I can practically feel my walls molding around the shape of his cock, content to keep him there until the sun explodes. “You’re so soft…” He whispers, almost an afterthought. “I’m gonna move, is that okay?”
“Please.” And then he shifts his hips, pulling out before plunging back in with enough momentum to force the air from my lungs, followed by a high pitched keen from the back of my throat. The pleasure radiates from my center the same way his skin radiates heat, and the sweat slicked flesh feels almost like an anchor, grounding me to him. The only thing keeping me afloat. His name falls from my mouth in a cacophony of squeals and moans, and with each sound, Leon grows more and more bold, and after a few minutes of mingling moans and increasingly wet sounds of skin on skin, his pace slows.
“I have a confession to make.” He whispers, an almost guilty look on his face as he leans up just enough for me to see the blues of his eyes.
“Oh god,” I say, palms resting on his damp pecs, anxiety flashing through my mind. “What?”
“You know that um…” He says, pausing as his cheeks flush. He’s embarrassed. “That day I came into the infirmary? With back issues?”
“Tell me you didn’t like, actually break something and I’m hurting you,” I plead, nervous jitters spreading from the tips of my toes to my fingers.
“No, god no, you’re fine,” he exclaims, leaning up until he’s resting on his hunches, cock still pressed tightly inside my body, and I inhale at the sensation of him shifting around, pressing against spots inside me that I didn’t even know I had. “I um…”
“Oh my god, spit it out please, Superman.” He chuckles at the desperation in my tone, eyebrows raising before he continues, but not before canting forward slightly to force a moan from my lips.
“Okay okay. I lied that day. I didn’t actually have any back issues,” he admits, face flushed again.
“What?” I place my hands over his as they rest on my hips, confusion painting my features. “But then why did you…”
“I wanted to see you. I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that first visit.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “You were the first one to ask about my mental state, and while I wasn’t ready to deal with it at the time, I appreciated the concern.” I reach up, my hand cupping his jaw as I break out into a fit of giggles.
“You are so cute,” I coo, and he rolls his eyes before pressing his finger down on my clit and I jerk upward as if I’m trying to escape his touch. We both know that’s not the case.
“I’ll show you just how cute I am.” The words send a wave of heat down my spine that pool around him, practically leaking out around his cock as he begins his movements back up, blue eyes looking down on me with affection and lust. I relish in his attention with a small smile.
“Please do, Agent Kennedy.” Oh how the tables have turned. He chuckles, leaning back down to cage me in between his arms again.
“You’re in for it now, sunshine.” The tender moment has faded, lips and tongues pressed together in hot kisses as sweaty bodies move in tandem. The knot in my core tightens as my fingers squeeze around the firm muscles of his shoulders, and the sounds leaving my mouth are downright pornographic. I can barely focus on anything besides the feeling of his skin against mine, the wet sounds between us, and every word he whispers directly into my ear. “Good girl.” “Taking me so well, sunshine.” “You’re fucking perfect.” “Come with me like a good girl.”  Each phrase sends a tingle across my skin, my orgasm pulled taunt until it snaps like a rubber band, and I come around him with a muffled ‘I love you’ as he follows, spilling himself inside of me with the same groaned ‘I love you’s. His weight drops for a moment before his arms tighten around me to flip us so that he doesn’t press down on me as we both try to take in much oxygen as we can with labored breaths, my cheek pressed to his rapidly rising and falling chest. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm.” I nod, eyes already drifting with the need for a rest. 
“No no no, you gotta pee, sunshine.” His hand pats gently against my ass and I sleepily laugh before getting up and rushing into the bathroom to pee, pulling on my panties on my way back. I stop in the doorway, looking at him resting in bed, having flipped over onto his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow.
The chill of the air forces me back into bed quickly though, hopping over Leon to get to my side. My side. His face pressed into the soft fabric of his pillow, and I lay down on his back - practically laying on him - before running my fingers across the raised skin on his right shoulder. This was from when I patched him up for the first time.
“Will I ever get to hear the stories behind your scars?” I find myself asking in a hushed tone as if I’ll wake up from a dream if I speak too loud. I trace what was once that gash the size of my forearm with a delicate touch. Light, soft. He shifts around, moving his face out of the pillow to speak.
“Which ones do you wanna know about?” He mumbles. He’s clearly tired, but he’s humoring me, which is just like him.
“All of them,” I admit. He shivers beneath me, my digits still tracing over marred skin. I feel him huff out a laugh from his back against my cheek.
“Nurse Nosy. That’s never gonna change is it?” He teases. I gasp in mock offense, ready to retort with someone that most definitely would have been witty and clever. “That one was from an axe.” I tilt my head, confused for a moment before I realize he’s talking about the scar.
“It was an axe?” I ask skeptically, sitting up so that I’m sitting on his lower back, legs on either side of his torso bent at the knee. He nods against the pillow.
“Guy grabbed the axe from the fire emergency kit.” I look at the skin, and suddenly it feels different. It feels raw, and intimate, and scary. Before I can think twice, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the marred flesh. Leon tenses, every muscle in his body going rigid and I begin to sit up before his arm comes out from under the pillow, catching my attention.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav-”
“It’s okay. It’s okay for you to do that.” He whispers, and I can faintly see the tint of a blush on his cheeks and nose. Leaning back down again, palms resting on the warm skin of his back, I press kisses along the length of the gash before I sit back up, hands not leaving his skin as I move them to the long thin scar that runs from his left shoulder diagonally over his spine, ending at the bottom of his ribs on the right side. The one I patched here, in our apartment. On our couch.
“What about this one?”
“That is from when I was dealing with one guy, another snuck up behind me with a knife. I was really lucky I moved when I did.” The idea of him almost dying isn’t a pleasant thought in the slightest, so I opt to lean down, giving this scar the same treatment as the last one, kisses tenderly placed across it. My eyes move to the small circular wound on his left shoulder. I trace the edges of it, noting how his breath catches. This was caused by a bullet.
“And this one?” I ask, hesitant. He’s never mentioned this one before, and it certainly wasn’t one myself or any of the DSOs doctors did. He takes a deep breath, my body rising slightly as his chest expands before he releases it.
“I was shot. I was trying to protect this girl, her name is Ada. I took the bullet for her. I don’t know if it was some stupid crush or a general sense of duty, but I jumped in front of her.” He tries to keep his tone impassive, but I can tell. I can always tell with him.
“Ada? You’ve never mentioned anyone named Ada before,” I question. He takes a long pause, so long that for a moment I wonder if he’s going to ignore the question altogether.
“She was a mercenary that I met in Raccoon City. Granted, I didn’t know she was a mercenary at the time. She claimed she was FBI, and young and naive as I was, I believed her. She used me to do her dirty work.” He explains, and it’s impossible to miss the sadness in his voice. The betrayal. It’s as fresh as it was the day in Raccoon City.
“What happened to her?” I ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Well up until last August, I thought she was dead. She fell in Umbrella’s lab when it started coming down. I couldn’t pull her up. But then she was in Spain, tried to convince me to leave Ashley behind and go with her.”
“But you said no?”
“I did.”
“Why?” He shifts his head, looking back at me before chuckling.
“I promised Ashley I’d get her home.” He says before quietly adding, “And I promised myself that I’d come home to you.” Another light kiss pressed right on the old wound. The old memory. Sitting up, I scan his back, trailing my fingers across scarred flesh before I speak up.
“Can I do the ones on your front?” It’s practically a whisper. Surprisingly, he nods, flipping beneath me so that I’m now resting on his abdomen. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” It’s a fair question, given the shining of tears I can see forming in his eyes from the moonlight shining. He nods.
“Yeah. I’m just not used to anyone being so… gentle. Not with me anyways. But I trust you.”
It’s hard not to shiver at the feeling of hard muscle under my covered core, but I ignore it in favor of poking a small cut on his bicep. He chuckles, cheeks dusted pink.
“Uh oh. What was this one?” His laugh is contagious, my own chuckle coming out at the notice of his laughter.
“It was so stupid. One of the guys I was training with decided he wanted to spar, and in the middle, one of the higher-ups walked in.” He starts, his hands resting on my thighs, the warmth just enough to keep me from needing pants. “Well being the 21-year-old that I was, I wanted to try and show off. I ended up fucking up something and caught myself with the blade.” It’s cute to see him embarrassed.
“Well, at least it’s a good story.” I giggle, before pressing a kiss on the old wound. I grip his hand, the one that had the burn, the skin completely healed, almost appearing like nothing had happened at all. A soft kiss pressed there too.
“Guy had a torch. It caught my glove.” I look up at his explanation, smiling before placing a series of kisses there, one on each knuckle before I set his hand back on my thigh. The scar in the center of his chest. I place my palm on it, the length of it longer than my hand from wrist to the tip of my middle finger.
“What about this one?” A deep breath, steadying. Calming. He’ll tell me if he’s not comfortable talking about it. I need to trust that he will.
“It happened in Spain. There were these… Parasites. It’s what they were using to control the people. They infected me. I know I should have told you soon-”
“Ashley told me. Back at the white house, at that party where you tricked me into coming with you.”
“She told you?” He questions, confusion in his voice as his eyebrows raise. “She told you what they were or…”
“She told me they were parasites. And that both of you were infected, but were cured. I didn’t wanna push you into talking about it, so I never brought up that I knew,” I admit, suddenly feeling as if I’ve hidden some vital detail from him. That feeling is washed away as his chest begins to move with his laugh.
“She would be the one to blab about that.” He chuckles again to himself lightly. “But this is the scar left from the removal.” I kiss it, right in the center before kissing my way up his chest, stopping at a scar on the left side of his jaw. It’s small, almost unnoticeable. “Before you ask, I was shaving with a razor that was dull as hell. It left this as a reminder to change my razors more often.” I giggle into his neck, nose tracing across the line of his jawbone before I place a soft kiss on it. My lips continue to press wet kisses at any exposed skin I can reach without sitting up.
“I’ll ask about more another time. We’ve got lots of time.” His arms come up to wrap around my shoulders, my naked chest pressed against his, able to feel his heartbeat under me. The silence stretches on, and I almost wonder if he has dozed off before he speaks.
“Marry me.” I press on his chest until I’m hovering over him, shock widening my eyes.
“What?” He’s not serious.
“You heard me,” he comments, eyes still shining with tears. Because no one has ever been so soft with him. No one has ever treated him like a person, they’ve only seen Leon S. Kennedy, STRATCOM’s golden boy. “Marry me.”
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“You did good.” I turn quickly toward the door at hearing his voice again.
“Sorry?” My voice is quieter than intended, almost making it sound like I’m afraid. Agent Kennedy’s head tilts, looking over his shoulder, no smile, just looking.
“You did a good job. You took good care of your first victim.” For a moment, and only a moment, I see a glimmer of a smirk flit across his mouth before he’s gone, the echo of his boots practically filling my ears as he makes his way down the hallway.
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“Really? You? A cop?” The revelation takes me by surprise, although it probably shouldn’t have. My eyebrows rise in shock.
“Yeah, believe it or not. Ended up here through sheer dumb luck.” The way he says ‘dumb luck’, it sounds like there’s more he wishes he could say but can’t.
“Well, then it sounds like you’re pretty brave yourself, Agent Kennedy.” The clipboard handed to him. Him signing it with a scratching across the paper. His hands, bruised knuckles and all, returning it to me.
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“Nurse Nosy!” I turn, irritation growing on my face as he quickly makes his way over to me.
“Can you pick a different nickname, please?” I ask, and he ignores the question in favor of his own request.
“A couple of friends and I are grabbing drinks tonight. Come with.” It takes me by surprise, him inviting me out with his friends.
“Look, if this is a pity thing, it’s fine. I’m content in my loneliness.”
“It’s not. I’m just trying t-”
“To help?” His sentence is finished by me, and for a brief second, I see a flash of embarrassment on his cheeks due to the nature of my line of questioning the first time we met.
“I’m just trying to invite you out for a drink. That’s all.”
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Looking up, I see Leon slide his arms into his own jacket, the leather practically molding to his stature, and I have to contain a groan at the sight as he zips it. I completely lose focus for a moment, only brought out of it as his fingers knock against my forehead teasingly. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Sorry, but my thoughts cost a dollar,” I sass, taking the helmet as he hands it to me and pulling it onto my head.
“Well, remind me to start saving up.” Another godforsaken wink. Fuck. Don’t. Leon, I’m begging you. Don’t make me fall in love with you. I can’t.
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“Well apparently, it does, in fact, matter. Which sucks. I would need to find someone who could put up with not knowing when I’ll be here and when I won’t.” He glares at the ceiling as if it’s personally offended him, furrowed brows and lips curled downward. Don’t. Don’t fucking say it. Don’t.
“I could.” Had to open my fucking mouth. Leon’s eyes immediately snap to me, his frown replaced with a surprised expression.
“What?” He asks, almost in disbelief.
“I have an extra room. And I don’t mind the chaotic schedule,” I mumble, suddenly very embarrassed by my outburst. “Plus, I could keep your plant alive.” He finally cracks a smile as he laughs.
“You’re serious?”
“I mean, you’ll have to help with rent. And groceries when you’re here, but, yeah. If you want, the spare’s yours.”
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“Will you do that for a little longer?”
“What?” He gestures to his head.
“Your fingers in my hair.” Don’t.
“Of course. Come here.” I scoot back, grabbing the pillow from the floor and placing it behind me so I can rest against it, flipping the lamp off before laying down completely. Leon finds the blanket draped over the back of the couch, tugging it over his back and my legs before resting his head on the middle of my chest, and while I knew this was coming, it still took me by surprise. I settle with his head there, his face turned toward the TV I know he’s not actually watching.
“Your heart’s beating really fast,” he slurs, already on the brink of sleep as I thread my fingers through his blonde locks once more, finger combing the strands until I feel him start to snore again, a light sound that could almost be mistaken for breathing if you weren’t listening. But of course, I was listening. I’m always listening when it comes to him.
I fall asleep like this as well, his head on my chest, the smell of his citrusy shampoo in my nose, his breath warming the fabric of my thin sleep shirt, and my fingers in his hair.
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5. “What are 5 things you can see right now?”
“You.” His voice is trembling. I can practically feel my heart splintering inside my chest.
“Good. What else?”
“Yellow of your shirt.” I nod encouragingly. “Your radio has green numbers.” Good. “The red straw of the cup in your cupholder.” One more. “Your keychain has a picture of you and your sister on it.”
4. “What are 4 things you can feel right now? Physically.”
“Your hands on my jaw.” One. “The seat under me.” Two. “My hands on your legs.” Three. “The sweat on my forehead.” Four. Good.
3. “What are 3 things you can hear?”
“Your voice.”
“Mhm. Good.”
“Birds outside of the car.” One more, Leon. “The blood pounding in my ears.”
2. “What are 2 things you can smell?”
“The car’s air freshener. It’s lavender.”
“Good nose.” I whisper, trying to bring a smile to my own face in reassurance.
“Your perfume. It’s vanilla.”
“You’re doing really well, Leon.”
1. “What is 1 thing you can taste?”
“I don’t know, I can’t-” My hands find the gum in my center console, unwrapping it and offering it to him. He opens his mouth without question, refusing to break eye contact as I pop the spearmint strip into his mouth. He chews it, the familiar flavor and texture seemingly bringing him a sense of calm. 
“What is one thing you can taste, Leon?”
“My gum.”
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“You were there.” I’m not tired anymore.
“Sorry?”
“In Raccoon City. You were there in my nightmare.” He pauses, taking in a breath, his heart stuttering inside his chest. “You were hurt, and I tried so hard to fix it, but…” I run my hand in comforting circles across his shoulder blade as he pauses, taking a breath. “You turned. And I had to…” Oh.
He came in here to make sure I was still alive.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Superman.”
“Superman?” He questions the nickname, and I can hear the smile that adorns his lips.
“Yeah. You’re basically Superman.” Words mumbled into his chest, his arm underneath my head bending to run fingers through the strands that have fallen free from the messy bun at the top of my head.
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“She really cares about you, you know that?” Silence. I wish I knew if it was because of some unspoken conversation or if Leon truly just doesn’t know what to say. “She loves hard. Friendships, romance, family. Doesn’t seem to matter to her. If she loves you, she really loves you.”
“I know.” What? “God, don’t I know it. She’s one of the few things in this fucked up world that actually makes me think it’s worth it.”
“I saw you, man. I saw the way you looked at her.”
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There he is. He’s dirty, face covered in smudges of mud and what I assume is blood, and there is a bandage on his jaw. His arms are littered with cuts and his right hand is encircled in white sterile wrapping, and beneath the thigh of his black cargo pants - which have a very large hole - there is more wrapping. His eyes practically droop under the weight of the dark circles resting below the multitude of blue swirls, blonde hair stringy and clearly in need of a wash hanging down to graze his cheek.
“I sure hope you didn’t give them too hard of a time, Nurse Nosy.” Tears swell in my eyes at his tone, the final nail in the coffin that it’s him.
“Leon?” He opens his arms just like he always does, and despite the nightmare looming in my brain, I bolt toward him, uncaring of the mud seeping into my socks until my arms are around his shoulders and his are squeezing my middle, lifting my feet off the muddy ground.
“Keeping my hoodie warm for me, sweetheart?” He teases in my ear and I let myself cry, tears streaming from my closed eyelids as I sniffle, refusing to let go of him for the first time since I met him. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart, you’re not wearing shoes.” Given my lack of coherency, my muscles move unconsciously, winding around his waist. His nose in my hair, lips against my scalp, arms tight around my ribs. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
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“I never thought I’d be able to care about someone again, not after everything that happened, but then…” He pauses, just long enough for me to wonder if he had fallen asleep right here and now.
“Then what?”
“Then I found you.” We’re silent for a long moment, him because I presume he’s finished speaking, and me because I am attempting to process his words as they circle around my mind, bumping into the sides violently.
“I care about you too, Leon,” I mumble, forearms wrapping around his head in some kind of strange hug. He shakes his head, his temples pressing against my biceps in disagreement.
“It’s not the same.”
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“Well, he told me that you are a nurse and that you guys are best friends.” I visibly relax, thinking it’s nothing to make my mind short-circuit. Then she keeps going. “He said that he doesn’t feel like he’s home after a mission until he’s gotten one of your hugs. That you always smell like warm vanilla, despite your hands always being cold. Said you’re the only one who has ever made him feel safe. Like really, truly safe. He told me that you can’t choose between pink and yellow as your favorite color, and that it changes based on the day. You love lavender, but orchids hold a special place in your heart.”
“I don’t know how he remembers all that…” It’s all I can think to say, having finished off the glass of wine, my fingers tangle together, trying to resist the urge to pick at my cuticles.
“Do you remember those things about him?”
“Of course I do. But it’s different, I-” Stop. Don’t do this. Don’t say it out loud.
“I mean, he told me that he lo-”
“There you girls are.” Leon’s there. Standing in the doorway, suit jacket unbuttoned and tie loosened, and I want to beg Ashley to ‘please, just finish the sentence.’ But I don’t.
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“We don’t have to actually-” his hand slides under my chin, tilting my head up and before I can even process it, his lips press to mine. It’s short-lived, but it’s impossible to miss the subtle taste of eggnog and rum. The warmth. Spearmint. His lips are chapped, although that hardly matters at the moment, heart fluttering against my chest as he pulls back, just enough for our noses to brush again. I am never going to be able to forget this.
“Thank you.” Neither of us have opened our eyes, almost afraid to break these precious seconds.
“For what?” I whisper back.
“For everything.”
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“Leon Scott Kennedy, you are an impossible man,” I mumble breathily, dropping my head to rest against his clavicle. “You changed the one thing I thought I knew about myself.”
“And what’s that?” I feel his words roll from his chest beneath my cheek.
“I’m not content in my loneliness anymore.” The words are practically whispered by this point.
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask a question. You definitely phrased it as more of a statement.” I can practically hear his eye roll, followed by a deep sigh of exasperation. “You always were my first victim.”
“And I’m gonna be your last, right?” He’s nervous now, the inquiry coming out much quieter. Anxious.
“Yeah,” I agree, and his muscles relax under me. I didn’t even feel them tense up.
“So?” Leon’s hands rub softly across the skin of my back, soothing despite the rough calluses I know he has. It reminds me of the tenderness he is capable of, never mind the hell that he has been through. I sit up again, just enough so that our noses brush, breaths mingling in the space between our kiss-swollen lips.
“Do I get to pick the flowers?” I tease, a small smile growing across my lips. Leon’s blue eyes roll as his own smile appears, a huff of a laugh puffing against my face.
“Yes or no, Nurse Nosy?”
“Yes.”
Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088
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green-alm0nd · 21 days
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Hi, me again! Can I suggest an Anakin or Fives (your choice) fic, where the reader is a singer and DJ at 79’s and their latest song is about him?
If you need a song for this, I got you:
(Ignore DaBaby’s rap for this fic, you can use Camila’s verses instead)
Hello again!
Of course I can! (I love the song btw)
[Anakin Skywalker x gn!reader]: If you kiss me, I might let it happen
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Summary:
Anakin is forced by his battalion (Fives mainly) to join in for a drink at 79's. As he talks to the clones, he spots you, singing a song he feels connected to.
WARNINGS: Drinking, alcohol, swearing, flirty reader, flirty Anakin, Anakin being a mess, suggestive if you squint, and just a little bit of tension. I don't know what I'm doing, it's 1 am and I want to sleep. I'll edit it tomorrow :p
Requested by: @kombatkid
I'm having a bad time learning how to write Anakin so please forgive me if it's a bit ooc :/
Enjoy!
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"It's literally 79's, not a Council meeting, sir." Fives implied.
Anakin leaned on the wall, thoughtful as he wondered if he should join his squad on a night at the bar, 79's, or not.
"I don't know, Fives. I already got reprimanded last time by the Council." He responded.
The clone rolled his eyes, and Jesse came in to try convince him.
"Come on, General. I heard from other clones that the singer you met last time is coming." The other clone chimed, smiling.
Anakin sighed, defeated. Yes, when he went for the first time to 79's, you had caught his eye. Quite literally as he had been mesmerized by your voice.
Eventually, he agreed. Just because he was feeling tired (and absolutely didn't want to hear you again-).
...
Upon arriving at 79's, Anakin realised how crowded it was. He sat down on a table with Rex, Fives and Echo.
"Are you sure you got the date right?" Echo asked.
Fives scoffed. "Of course I do."
The other clone rolled his eyes.
While the two clones fought, Anakin searched for your presence. You were definitely inside the bar, and he figured you'd be changing or practicing or just relaxing before a performance.
"Will you two stop it?" Rex asked, sighing.
"Not until I convince Echo that I didn't get the date wrong!" Fives complained.
"It's not the first time you've gotten a date wrong." Echo implied.
Anakin rolled his eyes. He started to regret that he agreed to go to 79's, yet he grabbed himself a drink and stared at nothing as other clones started entering the bar.
He did not realise a melody had started playing and someone had showed up in the small stage.
"They say he likes a good time
My, oh my
He comes alive at midnight
Every night"
He snapped out of his thoughts when Echo gently nudged his shoulder.
"They're on stage." He whispered.
The Chosen one's head instantly turned, and gazed at you.
"My mama doesn't trust him
My, oh my
He's only here for one thing, but
So am I"
He felt his cheeks go red as your eyes locked on his for a split second, before you walked out of the scenario to sway towards each desk.
He heard Fives ask the bartender for another drink, while the Jedi just stared at you longingly. You seemed to leave his desk for last, as you had started from the other side.
"A little bit older
A black leather jacket
A bad reputation
Insatiable habits"
Anakin gulped, as his eyes followed your every move. What was happening to him? It was wrong for the Jedi Code to feel the sensation he was feeling.
That feeling, however, the feeling of anticipation, the feeling of a shiver running down his spine as your voice filled his eardrums was like no other. And it was the same feelings as the ones he felt when he agreed to show up at 79's a few weeks prior.
The Jedi's heart was about to exit his chest as you approached closer.
"He was onto me,
one look and I couldn't breathe
Yeah, I said, "If you kiss me
I might let it happen" "
A nervous sigh left his lips, as Fives nudged him.
"It was worth it, eh?" He implied.
"Yeah, sure." He replied, dismissively. Even though he knew it had been absolutely worth it.
However, one side of him wanted to talk to you after the 'show'. The other side of him begged for Anakin to leave and return to the Temple and forget about all of this. Because he would be in trouble.
His eyes locked on yours again, and you smirked.
"I swear on my life that I've been a good girl
Tonight, I don't wanna be her"
You winked an eye at him, and went back to the stage.
"He says he likes a good time
My, oh my
He comes alive at midnight
Every night"
He muttered something between the words of 'I need some air.' to Echo before he got up and headed towards the door of 79's. It was too much for the young Jedi.
"My mama doesn't trust him
My, oh my
He's only here for one thing, but
So am I"
Anakin's hand rested on the doorknob, as he felt your words being directed at him. He knew it, and he felt it. And when claps and screams filled the bar, he knew it was his cue to get some air.
He had not noticed, however, that your eyes followed his every move.
Once outside, the Jedi leaned on a wall and sighed. He wouldn't call it sensory overload, but he did get a bit sensitive with all the noises. He crossed his arms, thinking.
He didn't notice that you were behind him, and startled him.
"Holy- stars! What- are you doing here?!" He asked, still very much surprised.
You laughed at his reaction.
"Sorry. I saw you leaving so I sneaked out of the crowd to try find you." You replied, with a small smile.
At this, Anakin was dumbfounded.
"Why would you be looking for me?"
You smirked, amused at his reaction.
"I know you were here last time, and you're here today. We don't know eachother, but you've caught my eye." You replied.
For some reason, a wave of confidence and adrenaline ran through Anakin's veins.
"Have I?" He asked, in a more flirtatious tone.
You nodded. "You have."
To this, he responded with a light chuckle.
"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Anakin Skywalker." He said, with a playful reverence. "Pleasure to meet you."
You extended your hand.
"Pleasure to meet you too."
You leaned on the wall.
"I must say, that was a great performance." He chimed, staring at you.
"It was just a performance." You shrugged.
Anakin chuckled. "You really can't accept a compliment, can you?" He said, shooting closer as he raised an eyebrow.
"Coming from you, I don't think I will." You teased, placing your hands on your hips.
He let out a huff.
"Playing hard to get, are we?"
You hummed in response, leaning closer. Your hands rested at the sides of the wall, his body between your arms. "Maybe I am."
Ignoring his blushing face, he licked his lips once he realised you were dangerously close to him, and more than you already were.
His body acted on his own, and his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting it up.
"The first time I came here, I was captivated by your voice. And I'm going to be transparent here, I really want to hear you sing again. It was beautiful." He said.
This time, you were the one to blush. You had also been captivated by the young, mysterious man. It was the first time you had ever felt like this, and you were willing to give in to the feeling.
"I'll sing. I'll sing for you." You told him, in a whisper.
Maybe it was the spotchka he had drank, maybe it was the heat of the moment that wasn't letting him think straight, but his lips crashed with yours in a very much passionate and long-awaited kiss.
You gladly kissed back, closing your eyes and placing your hands on his hips.
...
"So, uh- what are we doing about them?" Echo asked, as him and Fives waited for a cab, staring at both of you.
Fives hummed.
"Not tell the Jedi Council about it?" He replied.
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Echo said.
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I'm going to sleep :p
Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated <3
My requests are still open!
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writingforstraykids · 2 months
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Addicted to you Chp.20
Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)
Word Count: 5443
Summary: Back in public Minho tries to build up the courage to open up about what really happened without revealing too much. His friends support him every step of the way, hearing some things for the first time as well. Chan has to decide how open he really wants to be and walks the fine line of supporting his boyfriend and keeping their relationship a secret. Especially after Minho's first performance doesn't go as planned.
Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, panic attack, mention of throwing up, dizziness, anxious!min, protective!chan
A/N: Looking back at this series, this is by far one of my most cherished chapters. Not only has the group learned to stick together when one of them isn't exactly stable, but also Chan and Minho finally pull at the same string. I love how the growth in both of them has been visible for you guys and I do hope this chapter proves it once more. We're almost at the end, which makes me a little nostaglic because chapter one was one of my first posts back in October (we haven't missed a week🤭). I hope you enjoy it, I'll see you next week for the last one (sobbing)🖤
Chp.19| Chp. 21
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All I know is you saved me and you know it Saved me and you know it Always thought I was hard to love ' Til you made it seem so easy Easy ~ Camila Cabello
During dinner, Chan's hand kept slipping beneath the table, resting on Minho's thigh or grabbing his hand. Now that he knew, he wondered how he hadn't realized Felix and Changbin were acting the same way he and Minho had been. The secret glances, hands brushing against each other in passing, the soft smiles they shared when no one was watching. Jisung suddenly got everyone's attention. "As we all know, we have two couples amongst our group," he announced, quiet enough only for them to hear. "The funniest part about it is Chan and Changbin thinking they've been discreet, whilst Minho and Felix knew damn well the opposite is the case." 
Seungmin blinked at Chan. "You thought what? You've been drooling over Minho since we debuted." 
"Don't even start," their leader sighed heavily and hung his head, not noticing Minho's surprised glance. 
“As you all know, the rest of us have our own thing going on,” Jisung added.
"See? No reason to panic about telling the kids," Minho told Chan kindly and patted his back. "We're all grownups here." 
"Are we, though?" Felix giggled. 
"Now that we all know, no one has to sneak around the house anymore to be with one another," Seungmin concluded Jisung's announcement. 
"Amen," Felix agreed. 
"Fuck me. The house is gonna turn into a mess," Chan sighed and buried his face in his hands. 
"You think you're the only one allowed to have fun?" Jeongin asked sassily. He received a warning glare from his leader. “Also, what makes you think it wasn’t a mess before you knew?”
"I could use a drink," Minho announced cheerfully and waved over a waiter. "Anyone else? I'm paying." 
Chan chuckled softly and agreed. He could use one himself. Once everyone seemed to busy themselves with side conversations, Chan leaned a little closer to Minho. "You're so pretty, it's unreal," he whispered in his ear. Minho blushed softly. 
"Stop it," he chuckled. 
"I mean it. I've never seen someone as beautiful as you," he confessed and watched him bite his lower lip. Right, praises were something he had a thing for. "My beautiful kitten." 
Minho gasped softly, his pupils widening at the pet name. "Channie, stop," he whispered lovingly. "Not here." 
"Why not?" he asked, smirking softly. 
“You know damn well why not,” he rolled his eyes fondly.
-
Minho stared at his plate, pushing its contents from left to right for the thousandth time. He was feeling incredibly sick because he was so nervous about their press conference in a few hours. 
"Minho hyung? Aren't you hungry?" Jisung asked gently. Minho snapped out of his thoughts. 
He realized all of them were staring at him and smiled weakly, pushing his plate away. "I'm too anxious right now," he admitted as he reached for his water. But as he brought it closer to his lips, his grip around his glass got tighter as he noticed his hand trembling. 
"Can we do anything to help?" Felix spoke up next to him softly. 
"I don't think so," he shook his head and chewed on his lower lip. "I guess now that it's time, I'm scared there'll be consequences for you guys. It’s not exactly a great way to kick off promotions." 
"Whatever it is, we'll stand behind you, Min," Chan assured him. 
Minho met his eyes across the table and smiled weakly. "Are you saying this as my boyfriend or the leader of this group?" 
"Minho," Chan said softly.
"You should put the group first today, Chan. We both know that," he told him kindly. Chan lowered his gaze at the table for a moment. "I'm not afraid of the consequences because I know if I keep going like this, it'll end much worse for me,” he told them and rubbed his face tiredly. “I just don’t want you all to suffer from the news.” 
"They either get all eight of us or none of us," Changbin spoke up. 
"I'm sick of people trying to separate us," Hyunjin agreed. 
"We have your back, Minho hyung. There's nothing they can do about that," Seungmin agreed. 
"Fuck them all," Jeongin concluded with a grin. 
"Even if we didn’t worry about the consequences, Chan doesn't function without you..as we all saw repeatedly," Jisung commented dryly. 
“Thanks, Hannie,” Chan gently rolled his eyes.
Minho chuckled softly at all of them and rolled his eyes playfully. "When you put it that way, what's there to worry about." 
Felix smiled and looked at him. "Can we give you a hug?" 
"Fine," he sighed softly, secretly longing for nothing else than some physical comfort right now. He got up, and all of them gathered around him in a big group hug. Minho smiled softly and buried his face in Chan's chest as the warmth of his members finally gave him some comfort. "I love you guys," he told them after a moment. "I'm sorry for all that shit I'm putting you through currently." 
"Stop it, Minho hyung. We all have rough moments being in this industry," Changbin comforted him. 
"That's why there are seven others who have our back at all times," Hyunjin agreed. 
Once they reached their destination and had to enter the room where they'd be interviewed, Minho felt nauseous all over again. The staff would possibly kill him, or maybe he'd just get in serious trouble. Their names were announced, and they all left his side one by one, taking their places. Minho's stomach turned once more as he saw his place. Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Seungmin, and Jeongin were sitting on higher chairs in the back in that order. Felix was in the front row on the left, Jisung on the right, and the place in their midst was empty. They weren’t joking when they said they'd always be around him, protecting him. Minho's stage name was announced and he gave himself a mental push before walking out on stage, putting on a perfectly convincing, practiced smile. He sat down and nervously adjusted his suit jacket. 
They started out easy with some general questions about their next comeback, upcoming concerts, and already published songs. Minho didn't have to talk much and was able to fool around with the boys a little. He carefully adjusted his glasses as an interviewer called his name. 
"You've been on a break recently after collapsing on stage. Our readers are wondering what you think about said event and how you plan to continue?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. 
"As my team has already explained, I was injured and overworked at the event in question, which is why I collapsed and-," Minho stopped in his tracks, realizing this was the moment. He shouldn't just answer with the scripted version of what the staff had written up for him in case of such a question. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Actually, I would like to make my own statement if you allow me to." 
"Please go on," she encouraged him. 
"About two months before this performance, my mental health was starting to get worse. I had trouble taking care of and trusting in myself. It got better whenever I was around my members. At some point, I defined myself through my performance only. When I got injured, I had to take a step back, which made this much harder for me. I got into a massive fight with one of the most important people in my life, which really took a toll on me," Minho said and saw some staff members in the back looking at each other nervously. "I had trouble eating, I didn't get enough sleep, and I practiced too much and too long. Because of that, my injury got worse, and I let it happen, thinking the pain I felt was the punishment I deserved for not being able to perform. I was awful to be around, and I didn’t treat the ones I call my family well, pushing them away when all they wanted was to help. I didn't have the resources to be there for them because I barely had any left for myself, which I'm very sorry for," he continued as pictures were taken of him, and he knew there were live recordings as well. 
No going back now. 
"I didn't collapse because I was injured or tired. My mental health and body couldn't keep up with what I was doing anymore. I've spent two days unconscious at the hospital, which is what made my members decide I needed to take a break. I don't regret collapsing because I wouldn't have stopped this harmful behavior otherwise and-," he stopped as his voice started shaking and swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. Suddenly, Felix took his hand and smiled at him encouragingly while Jisung rested his hand on his knee. Chan followed his heart and wrapped his arms around him from behind, ensuring he knew they were there. Minho inhaled softly and rested his hand on Chan's arm, steadying himself. "I know I’ll make myself vulnerable by saying this, but I think it's important we start normalizing that your beloved idols are humans, too. This is why I want to announce that after everything that happened, I’ve decided to see a therapist. I'm not ashamed of it, and if I want to keep being part of this family and doing my best for our fans, I need to take care of myself better," he concluded and exhaled softly.
"We want to announce that we stand behind Minho and fully support his decision. We ask our fans to show our Minho how much he means to us all and how much he is worth. Please be patient with us during this process," Chan spoke up behind him, noticing how much Minho was shaking, glancing at the staff. "Thank you so much for being here. This will be all for today." 
They all got up, making sure to surround Minho as they left the stage. Minho felt dizzy and flinched a little as suddenly two of their press advisors approached them, saying his name. They seemed ready to call him out for his shit. Chan wrapped his arm around him protectively and told them to back off, not caring that reporters were still taking pictures. Finally, they made it backstage. Chan stepped in front of him, removing his microphone for him. "Give me a moment," he mumbled as his stomach protested, quickly pushing through them and making his way to the bathroom. He ripped the door open to one of the stalls and crouched down, throwing up. All the anxiety and nervousness got to him, combined with the realization that, for the first time, he did the opposite of what he had been advised to do. Once his stomach had calmed down, Minho carefully pushed himself up and sniffled softly, trying to swallow a panic attack threatening to creep in. He pushed the door open and slowly stepped outside, flinching heavily as he saw his friends standing at the sink, all watching him worriedly. "I can't even throw up in peace?" he joked tiredly and made his way over to a sink, shakily turning on the water. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands, thanking Hyunjin quietly, who gave him some paper towels. 
"Do you feel better after telling the truth?" Seungmin asked. 
"I'm glad it's not a secret anymore," he told them, leaning against the sink. "But besides that, no. I'm a minute away from a full-blown panic attack," he admitted, knowing there was no use hiding it. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees and inhaling shakily. "They'll kill me, won't they?" 
Jisung was the first one to react and stepped in front of him. "Deep breaths, Minho hyung. You'll be okay." He hugged him as he stood up straight again and soothingly rubbed his back. The others let them, knowing Jisung often found comfort in Minho when he was panicking, so it fit for him to try and return the favor. Jeongin grabbed a few paper towels, made them wet, and wrung them out before carefully placing them on the back of Minho's neck. Felix stepped next to them and gently ran his hand through his hair as Jisung guided Minho in his breathing. 
Once he had calmed down, Chan took over, pulling him into a tight hug and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm so proud of you. That was very brave." 
"I don't feel very brave right now," he gave back, making his friends chuckle. He barely noticed Changbin removing the paper towels from his neck and leaning his forehead against Chan's. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?" 
“We could stay in for the night and order takeout,” Jeongin proposed. “We’ll just meet up in one room and order there.” 
Minho smiled thankfully and nodded. “That would be nice.” 
-
"May we ask what sent you down the spiral of mental issues?" their interviewer spoke up, clearly talking to Minho. They were currently at a radio station, giving an interview about their upcoming album. Of course, the press conference from yesterday would be a topic; Minho had expected nothing less.
Minho shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. He was aware of the camera moving a little closer on him as they’d also film and upload the whole session. "As I've said, the hate, the injury, lack of sleep, and slowly stop eating altogether have all played their part in this process. It’s been weeks of feeling like shit, and I’m glad I got through the worst of it by now." 
“Many of our listeners thought it was very brave of you to open up like that since we usually don’t see this happening,” she told him with a kind smile. “That must’ve been scary.”
“It was. It still is,” he chuckled, and Jisung flashed him a gentle smile across the table. He knew how it was.
“Nevertheless, most people out there are very grateful you did that. How does that make you feel?” she asked curiously. 
“It’s a relief to hear that people can relate to my situation and don’t look down on me because of it. Also, if me opening up about my struggles helps someone, I don’t get why it is an issue to do so,” he said.
“I think a lot of people out there can relate to the feeling of trying to function when you actually feel like giving up,” Felix added.
“We’ve all been there before,” Seungmin agreed. “Maybe not as heavily, but we’ve all certainly had our struggles in the industry.”
“I think what made it so difficult was seeing Minho hyung go through it,” Hyunjin said gently. “Usually, we come to him with these issues, so no one really knew how to help.”
“Which didn’t stop them from trying, though,” Minho said reassuringly, smiling at him. “I just haven’t been so easy to deal with.”
“How has this situation been for you as a leader?” she asked, turning to Chan, sitting beside Minho quietly. 
“Oh, he struggled the most with it,” Changbin answered for him, and they all chuckled. “Minho’s always been his partner in leading the team with him.”
“That was certainly missed, yeah,” Chan laughed, winking at Minho. "I realized how much I rely on him in certain areas and I know I should've stepped up more." 
"What about that fight you mentioned? Was it with one of the members or someone else?" she asked Minho.
"That was me," Chan spoke up before Minho could answer. "I've been very difficult to deal with, and Minho didn't give up on me, which made things grow tense. I've accused him of complete bullshit to save myself and been very harsh towards him, which didn’t help him deal with his own issues." 
"But, we’ve all talked it out and are doing better than ever," Minho added with a nervous smile. 
"I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you mean you were difficult to deal with?" she asked. Everyone grew quiet for a moment, tension slowly rising at the question. She glanced at them, apologetically. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay,” he assured her with a warm smile and exchanged a look with Minho, who looked back at him questioningly. “I’m just trying to figure out how to start.”
“You don’t have to go in depth,” Minho assured him gently.
Chan inhaled softly before grabbing his hand beneath the table. He knew it could be seen on camera, but he couldn’t care less now. "I've been depressed, shutting everyone out for two weeks. I let some things get to me, and Minho was the only one I let near me. I didn't explain exactly how I was feeling, but he was there to hold me when I couldn't go on anymore and broke down crying repeatedly," Chan said, and everyone grew quiet. Their friends looked at Minho and Chan worriedly, hearing for the first time how much Minho actually dealt with. Minho swallowed hard. He could tell by the sound of his voice alone that Chan was having a hard time talking about it. "I've been dragging him down with me and my issues. After our fight, we both dealt with it differently. But none of us were feeling well. I’d never say I was doing as bad as him those past few weeks. Nevertheless-," his voice broke, and the grip on his hand grew tighter. 
"Chan," Minho said gently, turning a little and seeing the tears in his boyfriend's eyes.
Chan stopped for a moment, gathering himself as he found peace in Minho's soft coffee eyes. "Nevertheless, Minho saved my life even though he couldn’t stand being in a room with me at that time. And I'll be forever grateful for that. I gave up on everyone, including myself. A few weeks before Minho’s incident, I accidentally sent my goodbye message to Minho after spontaneously deciding to leave the group. I didn’t feel like I could lead them anymore and thought they’d do better without me. I knew they had Min, who would do his best to carry them through it," he said, his voice shaking as a tear ran down his cheeks. Minho blinked softly as tears brimmed his own eyes and swallowed hard, knowing he had to be strong for them in this moment. Chan wiped away the tears and exhaled shakily. "He climbed up to my balcony, even though he’s deathly scared of heights, to stop me, thinking I was talking about something else, and I-," he trailed off before holding Minho's hand up. "So yes, for everyone asking why I called him love when he collapsed or gifted him this ring, it's because I really, really love him, and I want him to know that."
Minho smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He hadn’t expected him to be that open. 
“Gosh, it sounds like you two have been through a lot lately,” she said with a compassionate smile. “Feel free to step away for a bit if you need a moment,” she told them, seeing how hard Chan was fighting back tears.
Chan exchanged a look with Minho, debating if they should take her up on that. Minho got up, still holding his hand. “Come on, Channie hyung,” he said gently, placing his headset on the table.
Minho pulled him close as soon as they were outside, his heart breaking a little at how tightly Chan clung to him, hiding his face in his shirt. “You did great, Channie love. I’m so proud of you,” he told him quietly.
“You’re right, this is scary,” he said quietly. 
“I got you,” he promised with a gentle smile, fondling his hair. “I love you so much. Thank you for having my back in there,” he whispered.
Chan pulled back and smiled as Minho wiped his cheeks for him. “I love you too, baby,” he told him quietly. He held up his pinky finger for him. “You and me against the world?”
Minho’s face softened as he returned the gesture, linking them together. “Always…Let’s go back in?”
“May I get a kiss first?” he asked.
Minho glanced around quickly before nodding. He connected their lips to a short but loving kiss and gently patted his back. “Alright, come on.”
-
The others watched them leave before turning back to their interviewer. “That is quite some story,” she said. 
“Yeah, it’s been a lot going on the past few weeks,” Jisung agreed. 
“I suppose that hasn’t been easy for you all either?” 
“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Felix told her. “Those two have formed a very deep bond over the past few years, so we all knew they could do this once they started to get along again.” 
“A very deep bond? Do you mean like very good friends? Or are the rumors true, and there’s more?”
“You could call them our parents by now. These two are so in sync it’s annoying,” Jeongin lightened the mood as they came back inside and sat down. 
“As charming as always,” Chan commented dryly.
“We’ve been blessed with a few chaotic kids. It’s only natural that we had to step up and lead them,” Minho winked at Jeongin, who stuck out his tongue at him. “See?” he asked, making everyone laugh. 
"Your friends have been telling me about that deep bond you share. Our listeners would love to know if the rumors are true?" she asked and Minho looked at Chan. 
Chan looked almost a little anxious as he met his eyes, swallowing hard at the pure love and adoration in his boyfriend's doe eyes. Minho smiled gently, taking Chan's hand and squeezing it. "Chan means a lot to me, which is why fighting with him had taken such a toll on me. We're a team and we work best when we're together," Minho said, keeping his eyes on Chan. "I love him, that sums it up well." 
"Platonic love or-?" she asked curiously. 
Minho could tell Chan wasn't quite ready to open up that much today and simply smiled, still not looking away from him. "No comment." 
Chan chuckled, finger brushing over his ring delicately. He turned toward their interviewer, taking a deep breath. "As I said, I love him too. That's all I have for you right now."
Felix and Changbin grinned as they watched them, Jisung exchanged a fond glance with Hyunjin and Jeongin winked at Seungmin. They all knew damn well how very obvious those statements have been without saying much or admitting anything. At the end of the day, their hyungs knew how to dance along the fine line. 
"Well…I wish you the best of luck then to keep what you have right now," she said with a knowing smile. 
A few weeks later
Minho adjusted his newest stage outfit and sighed after cracking his neck. He was tired and already longed to be wrapped up in Chan's arms and back in bed. He had gotten through most of his performances for the day already and was about to perform for the last time. "Can I borrow that one for a moment?" he asked Felix, who was walking past him with a fan. 
"You can keep it," Felix told him, and Minho nodded thankfully. 
He closed his eyes as the cool air hit his face and took a few deep breaths. His head was hurting a little from all the noise, so he made his way outside their dressing room, leaning against the wall. 
Only a few seconds later, the door opened again. "Are you okay?" Chan asked caringly. 
Minho nodded and flashed him a small smile. "I'm okay. It's too loud in there," he told him. 
"Understandable," he nodded agreeingly and rolled his eyes fondly. "But seriously, are you sure you’re feeling?" 
"Yeah," he nodded. 
"Your knee's alright?" he asked. 
"It has been for a while now, yes," he told him amused. 
"You're not feeling dizzy or anything?" Chan made sure, and Minho shook his head. 
"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. Today there have been a lot of bright lights and loud noises. I'm getting a bit of a headache, but I'll get through the last performance and relax later," he assured him. 
Chan stepped in front of him and gently massaged the back of his neck before going up to his temples. Minho moaned softly at the relieving touch and closed his eyes. "I'm proud of you, baby. You've worked hard today." 
"Thank you," he smiled shyly and opened his eyes again. "I missed being on stage like this."
"I know you did," he nodded and kissed his forehead. "Have I told you how much your new hair color suits you yet?" he asked, brushing back Minho's currently dark purplish hair. 
"Only a million times," he winked at him. "I like it too, no worries," he giggled. 
"So pretty." Chan gave him a short kiss. "Can I walk you to the stage?" 
"Sure," he smiled sweetly and laughed as their friends all came outside. 
"We wouldn't want to miss your last performance," Jisung smiled. 
"You guys are so sweet," Minho told them and took Chan's hand. "Alright, let's go." 
"Good luck," Chan told him right before he left, and Minho took his place on stage. 
He was feeling alright throughout the performance, hitting his notes beautifully and dancing smoothly as always. 
"Gosh, he sounds so good," Jisung beamed excitedly as Minho hit a high note.
"Is he okay, though?" Felix frowned softly. 
"Right? It looked like he stumbled a bit," Jeongin nodded nervously. 
"He's shaking," Seungmin added. 
"Please shut up," Chan said anxiously, seeing all of it himself. His eyes haven’t left Minho the entire performance. 
Minho knew the song was coming to an end and felt relieved, knowing he'd soon be back home. He stepped forward at the end and panted heavily, finally feeling how exhausted his body actually was. He squinted his eyes as the audience began to blur in front of him, and felt dizziness taking over his body. Not again. Minho pulled his earpiece out as a high-pitched tone rang through his ear and clutched his chest, pained. Fuck. He nervously glanced to the stage exit, debating if he should risk staying where he was or getting off stage before another debacle. 
"What the fuck is he doing?" Changbin asked worriedly. 
"He doesn't look good," Hyunjin agreed. They all glanced at Chan, who was anxiously chewing on his lower lip. The moment Minho sank down to his knees, head hanging low as he tried to hide his pain, Jisung, Felix, and Changbin held Chan back. 
"Hey, let me go! He needs help!" he protested. 
"Chan hyung, you can't storm on stage now, okay?" Seungmin told him. 
"There's staff already out there to help him," Jeongin pointed out as someone brought him water. 
"I told them it would be too much for him," Chan said weakly. 
"We know, he knows as well," Felix said calmingly. 
"Fuck it, I'm getting him off stage," Chan groaned and pushed them off before making his way on stage. 
"Fucks sake, Chan," Felix groaned. 
Minho looked up at him, surprised as Chan was suddenly kneeling down next to him and cupping his face. "Relax," he whispered, noticing the anxiety in Chan's eyes. "We're on stage, angel." 
"You got dizzy?" he asked gently, and Minho nodded. 
"It was a little too much," he told him tiredly. "My body hurt and gave up on me for a minute." 
"You think you can get up?" he asked, and Minho nodded bravely, letting Chan help him up. Chan wrapped his arm around him tightly and led him off the stage. As soon as they were backstage, Chan snapped at one of their staff members. "I told you it would be too much!" 
"Chan," Minho cut him off sharply, and everyone looked at him worriedly. "I said I would be fine. I overestimated myself, and my body showed me that I was not ready for this yet. It's fine, let it be." 
"You wouldn't have done it if they hadn't suggested it. You're trying to satisfy them again," he told him. 
Minho tiredly rubbed his hurting head and looked at the staff members. "Can you get the car, please? I need a break." They nodded at him and quickly called their car. 
"Wrong place, wrong time, Chan hyung," Jisung told him gently, letting Minho brace himself on his shoulder. "Come on, let's sit down somewhere until the car's here." Seungmin came to help and wrapped his arm around his waist, steadying him. 
Felix gently rested his hand on Chan's arm. "He needs his boyfriend now, not our leader," he told him softly, and Chan glanced at him nervously. 
"I just want him to be okay again," he confessed weakly. 
"We know," Changbin told him kindly. 
"You can still talk about schedules later. Right now, he needs a hug and you telling him he did amazing today," Hyunjin told him. 
"Go on," Jeongin gave him a gentle push. 
Chan groaned softly but did as they said and walked over to them. He crouched in front of Minho, and his heart fluttered at his boyfriend's tired smile. "Sorry, I lost my temper back there."
"You were worried, it’s alright," he told him kindly, not noticing Seungmin and Jisung leaving them alone. Minho gently reached out for him and fondled his hair. "I promise you, I'm okay. Just very tired." 
"I'm sorry I got scared for a second," he confessed and sat on the sofa next to him. Minho turned slightly and pressed his forehead against Chan's. Their hands found each other, and Minho squeezed it gently. 
"I'm here, I’m still conscious," he promised. 
Chan pulled him into his lap and hugged him close as Minho sank against him with a soft sigh. "You were amazing today. I'm really proud of you," he told him. 
"Thanks, Channie hyung," he smiled sweetly and closed his eyes. "I'm so tired," he said softly. 
"You can sleep. I'll take care of everything else," he assured him. Minho didn't need a second invitation. 
Chan carried him to the car later, protecting his head as he leaned down to sit him inside. He sat down next to him, letting him sleep on his shoulder. He carried him inside once they reached home. At home, he laid him down on his bed and filled the bathtub with warm water to soothe his hurting body. He got him undressed and into the tub, bracing him as he very gently washed his hair and body. Minho was only half awake throughout the process, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 
Chan got him dressed again before carrying him downstairs and sitting on the sofa with him on his lap. Felix handed him a plate with some food, and Chan started feeding Minho slowly. Minho was barely able to keep his eyes open but made sure to eat a little, knowing he needed the energy. He grew heavy against him and fell asleep as soon as Chan started running his hand through his hair. 
The others all made sure to eat quietly and only talked with their voices lowered to give him some rest. Later, they put on a movie and gathered on the sofa around them, knowing if Minho woke up, he'd feel better seeing them continuing their day as always. He woke up later with a massive headache and winced softly as he moved on top of him. 
Chan looked down worriedly. "What's wrong?" 
"Headache," he groaned, melting into him as Chan massaged his scalp and temples. Felix came over with a glass of water and a pain pill for him, which he took, thankfully. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep again, curling up in Chan's arms. 
Chan kept on lovingly massaging his head for a while and smiled softly as Minho grew calm again. The others all slowly went to bed until it was just Chan, Jisung, and Minho left. 
"You need help carrying him upstairs?" Jisung offered quietly. Chan glanced down at Minho sleeping peacefully on his chest. 
"I think we'll just stay on the sofa for the night," he shook his head. "I don't want to wake him up again." 
"Alright," he nodded and gently patted Chan's shoulder. "Sleep well, Chan hyung." 
"You too, Hannie," he smiled and watched him leave. Chan got comfortable on the sofa and pulled Minho down with him, who stirred in his sleep. "It's fine, keep sleeping," he told him quietly, fondling his hair. Minho cuddled into him, and soon Chan fell asleep right after. 
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Chp.19| Chp. 21
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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Congrats on 100!
Could I please have angst 06. “You never even cared about me.” mixed with fluff 05. Person A kissing person B in the rain. - with Jake please!
All I ask for is a happy ending!
Hi, Fe! Thanks for your congratulations! As requested here is your mix of Angst Prompt 6, “You never even cared about me” mixed with Fluff Prompt 5, Person A kissing person B in the rain. I hope you like it! The italicized parts are lyrics from the song Something's Gotta Give by Camila Cabello 🥰😘🤩
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Something's Gotta Give
Like all the most cliche stories, it started with an arrangement. You’d joined the Dagger Squadron out of Naval Air Station North Island six months ago. You’d never thought you’d enjoy being in one place for so long, but you do. You’d quickly become close with Halo and Phoenix, the three of you bonding as the sole females in a squadron full of men. The three of you had been decompressing over beers and cocktails at the Hard Deck, avoiding the men while sitting at one of the tables. The conversation had started with sharing stories of how you’d gotten your callsigns. Callie had shared how she’d gotten the monicker Halo, and Natasha had shared how she’d gotten Phoenix. After their cool stories, you’d felt ashamed, sharing that you’d gotten Lily for your Lily print Lanyard and notebook during flight school. That had just been the start of the night. The three of you had each downed a drink, plus a shot of Tequila apiece when Callie pulled you and Natasha forward conspiratorially.
“Okay. So we’ve all been in a couple of relationships, right?” Her voice was hushed and mischievous.
You and Natasha had shared twin excited looks, grinning and then nodding at her.
“What’s your experience been with orgasms, then?” She’d pulled the two of you forward closer, “Cause I didn’t actually cum unless it was with a woman. The men who I’ve dated couldn’t have found my clit if it had been pointed out to them.” You couldn’t help how you giggled as Natasha shared her experience. Your face had been flushed with laughter and the alcohol you’d consumed when they’d turned their gazes to you. 
You’d stuttered out how you’d never cum at all with a man, or in fact, by yourself, not expecting a heavy arm to wrap around your shoulders or a Texan drawl to purr in your ear, “Well, darlin’, if you ever need a man to help you with that, look my way.”
Nat and Callie’s eyes had gleamed dangerously, and by the end of the night, you’d found yourself a very willing participant in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Jake Hangman Seresin. 
His cocky confidence hadn’t been a sham or show. He knew what he was doing, and once you knew what you’d been missing, you’d chased after your orgasms as single-mindedly as you approached flying. Your downfall was your damned bleeding heart. You don’t know when or how, but you’d fallen in love with Jake. You'd found him to be sweet, kind, and generous. When he wasn’t playing the part of ‘The Hangman’, he was incredibly easy to befriend and even easier to adore. You wanted nothing more than to have him in your bed all night instead of seeing him get dressed after you’d cum together. It had gotten to be too much. How could you take it anymore? 
That decision is what brings you to now as you wait outside his apartment door on a rainy November night. You’ve been agonizing over what to say to him, though you guess you know what to say when the door opens, and a blonde model wannabe strides out. It’s like a scene out of the movies, you, in your frumpy jeans and t-shirt, looking at this girl in her sparkly dress and heels walking out the door as Jake stands in the doorway wearing only gray sweatpants.
“Hey.” Your voice is quiet as the girl walks away. 
“What’re you doing here, Lily Flower?” Your eye roll is harsh as you step into his space. He stinks of overly sweet perfume, the scent making you feel even sicker than you already are. 
“We need to talk.” You can see something new in his eyes before he steps aside to let you into the apartment.
You can see the emotions warring in his eyes as you sit on the edge of his sofa. He’s pacing in front of you, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. “You’re here, Lily Flower. So talk to me.”
“Jake. We need to stop this.” Your voice rings out like the crack of a whip in the silent apartment. He stops moving entirely, his hands falling to his side as he looks at you wide-eyed in the dim lamplight.
“Stop it?” You’re not expecting to hear the anguish in his tone. “Why?”
“I can’t keep doing this. I broke the first rule of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. I fell for you. Hard. And by the looks of the blonde that just walked out of here, it’s obvious that you don’t feel the same. Something's gotta give, Jake. Something's gotta break. But all I do is give, and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay is a good reason to go.” You can’t hide how your voice breaks in time with your heart as you spit the words out.
“I should have never agreed to this. You make me feel so good that I forget everything my brain is screaming at me about you. I ignore all the warning signs, and it’s ripping me apart.” You can’t hear anything other than the hitches in your own breathing as you stare into his luminescent green eyes. “You never even cared about me. I was just a means to an end. A way to get off and another notch on your bedpost.” You’ve got your arms wrapped around yourself as you breathe raggedly.
“You knew what you were getting into, you know that, right, darlin’?” His voice is cruel as he rips into you. “I should know by now. You should know by now. We should know by now. You walked into this of your own volition. So how is it on me if you fell in love? Did I ever once tell you that I would stop seeing other people?”
“No.” Your voice is quiet. “Then what was the point of the kisses and soft touches? The pet names? Calling me your good girl? Any of that?” Your chest burns as you speak. “I’m not completely innocent, Jake. And I’ve never heard of any of that being a part of an arrangement like ours.” You’re standing now, walking towards the door.
“So that’s it, huh? I was wrong, you were too. You’re leaving now. We’re done? Three months of the happiest I’ve ever been, and you’re ending it?” Your legs buckle at the pain in his voice as you yank the door open. Your voice is stripped bare as you return his words. “If these three months were the happiest you’ve ever been, why haven’t you said anything? Why aren’t you asking me to stay? If you feel anything at all for me, why aren’t you doing anything? Why aren’t I in your arms right now?” You wait a few beats, but you walk out the door when he doesn’t move and just stands there.
It’s never been harder to walk away. As you step unseeingly through the puddles and unlock your car, it's pouring down. You break, sitting in the leather seat, sobbing with your head against the steering wheel. It’s silent in the car, only your stifled gut-wrenching sobs and the tapping of the raindrops on the windshield. You’re not expecting the door to be yanked open, though. Or to find yourself crushed against a chest, you know too well. His arms are like steel as they wrap around you. You melt into him, crying even harder now that you can feel Jake around you. His lips press against the top of your head, and you can hear his breath stutter as he holds you. 
“I’m not letting you go, Lily Flower. You’re under my skin, too, sweetheart. I want you in my arms and in my bed. Every day and every night. You’re not the only person who fell, darlin’ and fell hard. I did too. I was just too stubborn to tell you the truth. I resorted to bringing home girls like the one you saw leave to try to get you out of my head. It didn’t work. It hasn’t worked. I don’t think it ever will.” His hands are gentle as he pulls away from you, brushing tears from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You slip out of the car seat, shut the door, and stand in the pouring rain facing him.
“So, where do we go from here?” Your voice is hoarse as you look into his eyes.
“I want to do what I should have before this. Let me take you out? Let me show you how precious you are? Let me show you how much I love you?” His jaw is clenched as he stares at you, water dripping down his torso. 
You nod once, abortively, before leaping into his arms. The kiss he presses to your lips is all-consuming. It sends heat through your veins, and you kiss him back just as hard. When you part, you’re fighting for breath. Jake sets you carefully back down on your feet, watching in the rain as you open the door again and grab your purse as well as your car keys. His smile is sweet as you lock the car and take his hand in yours.
“Take me to bed, Cowboy.” You’re smiling at the look on his face. “I love you.”
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