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allur1ngs · 4 months

Text

✮ see no evil, hear no evil ✮

TW: unedited, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom!reader, teasing, strap usage–r!receiving, reader tries to ride bada’s strap for a bit before bada takes control, bada is very cocky in this one…idk mafia bada is just always so cocky to me during sex, bada’s strap is referred to as a cock/dick, exhibitionism, bada doesn’t receive again, sorry…, erm… dumbification, hyo hears you and bada fucking two times, she will never rest…), italicized words with quotes around them in this fic indicate a thought, and in a long block of text indicate a flash back, the picture in the middle purely for aesthetics/a visual aid and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! this is entirely canon divergent and not a part of the mafia au timeline!!!!!!!!!!! if you want to read the canon version of this scenario, read this

SUMMARY: hyo will always be a dedicated bodyguard. she takes pride in the fact that she is able to stay by your side each day, and protect you. the only downside? she has to exercise immense amounts of self-restraint when she stands outside your bedroom or office door, and hears bada fucking you.

WC: 5.6k

A/N: an anon asked it so we did it!! a collab w my wife @bebeyue, make sure to read her continuation of this by clicking the three ellipsis at the end of this fic (this is a threat)!!!! this is the only time i’m cosigning on any form of hyo content–i make exceptions for aeri–so enjoy this one piece!! (ps. pls do not send any requests for hyo–i’m only writing for bada!!) but besides that, again, this is a “behind the scenes” of this drabble, but uses this fic as an opening, pls enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Kim Hyo is a diligent bodyguard, and no one can deny that fact. Although Bada may at times nitpick at things she does, she can’t dismiss Hyo’s commitment to her job as your bodyguard. Through thick and thin, she’s been there, watching over you. Early mornings and late nights, her presence is never far.

Take, for instance, the current situation unfolding between you, Bada, and Hyo.

"I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught." Bada’s voice comes from inside her office, and leaks into the hallway. Coincidently, you’d accidentally left the door open when you entered to hand your faincée her glasses. Now that accident left you in a rather compromising position.

Hyo stands outside Bada’s office, her back against the wall as your fiancée eats you out and toys with you. She’s not exactly sure what is specifically happening inside but from the sounds of moans, you’re enjoying what Bada is doing to you.

"I-I don't." You answer your fiancée’s prior statement, a hint of shame creeping into your voice.

"There you go again," Bada says, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth in displeasure.

Hyo hears a shuffling sound and then another moan rings out from the office, this time the sound is significantly louder–she lets out a sharp breath and clutches her hands tightly together in front of her, struggling to keep up her professionalism.

"Do you enjoy lying to me?" Bada continues.

Trying to distract herself, Hyo forces herself to think of something else. “What are we having for dinner tonight–” She begins a thought, but it’s interrupted by the sound of Bada’s stern voice speaking up again.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?"

“No.” You squeak, "Please--"

“The Boss is being very stern this time.” Hyo finally manages to collect herself enough to think a clear, coherent thought. “The last time this happened–” Her thought is interrupted by another that invades her mind.

“Be honest, you like that type of stuff–” Tatter’s amused voice echoes in your bodyguard’s mind, her entire body going rigid.

“Fuck.” She mentally curses, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “It’s not like that–” Despite what fibs Hyo may try to convince herself of, the mind never lies. It is the truest and most honest representation of thought.

So it’s natural that Hyo thinks of the night prior to this most recent excursion between you and Bada, when you’d engaged in such activities.

The day had begun normally, much like today had, until certain events led your bodyguard to a cruel fate.

3 days earlier

Standing on the steps of the Lee mansion, you beckon over your wife. “Come here,” you say, voice brimming with excitement.

Bada, who’d just spoken to Hyo, and asked her to bring around her Porsche 918 Spyder, turns to look up at you standing on the second step of the stairs toward the open driveway. “Coming.” She says, dismissing Hyo as she ascends the steps in your direction. When she reaches the step you’re standing on, positions herself behind you and starts to trail kisses up and down your neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful? I love this dress…”

“You’ve only told me five times already.” You laugh while reaching into the pockets of your dress–a feature that you reverently appreciate–to pull out your phone. “But thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She mumbles into your skin, dragging her nose up and down while continuing to press heated, wet kisses on the crook of your neck.

“Bada, I want to take a picture.” You huff, trying to focus on opening the camera app on your phone.

“Take one then, I’m not stopping you.” She replies, never slowing down her sweet assault on your neck.

“I can’t when you’re kissing me.” You argue back lightheartedly.

“Just angle the phone so I’m not in frame–”

Not convinced, you gently shy away from Bada’s lips. “I’ll let you give me kisses after I’ve taken the picture. Just two seconds, alright?”

“Fine.” Your fiancée pouts as she wraps her right arm under your boobs, unintentionally making them pop.

You barely notice as you lean back into her chest and hold up your phone, closing your eyes and smiling for the picture. But Bada does. She sees the way the skin of your tits shine in the low light, and how the picture looks incredibly intimate, like it’s something not meant to be seen by foreign eyes. She leans in, completely entranced by the photo, and your reflection–

The moment slips away like a gentle whisper in the breeze as you slowly open your eyes and your smile widens at the picture. You don’t comment on the nature of the photo, only saying, “It’s so cute, I have to post it on Instagram!” Which you quickly do, all the while Bada remains silent, moving her head back into the crook of your neck.

The kisses she’d given you prior, although passionate, are nothing compared to the heat with which she charges the kisses she places on your skin now. She uses just the tip of her tongue and drags it across your neck, which makes you freeze, and a puff of air leave your lips.

“Maybe we should stay in.” She whispers between kisses.

“Bada, you made reservations.” You mumble, bringing your hand up to the side of her head, clutching onto strands of her long, black and white striped hair. At the same time, Hyo pulls up in the Porsche. She parks it right in front of you both, then turns to face you, but when she catches sight of the intimate moment you two are sharing, she instantly faces forward and clears her throat. She tries to make it seem like she’s not listening to what either of you are saying, but your close proximity makes it almost impossible.

“Fuck the reservations,” Bada says into your skin, winding her other arm around your midsection–again making your tits pop out. “It’s been a while since we had sex.”

“Bada, Hyo is here with the car.” You whisper, using weak force to pull on Bada’s hair in an attempt to pull her off of your neck.

You succeed, but your fiancée is displeased. “So?”

“So,” you give Bada an astonished glance, “she can hear and see us–”

“She’s not even looking our way.” Bada points at Hyo, who’s scrolling through her photo albums, trying to busy herself. “She’s on her phone–” Your fiancée suddenly frowns, pressing you closer to her chest. “Hyo, why are you looking at your phone?”

Your bodyguard instantly sits up and snaps her head in Bada’s direction, looking like she’s about to break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry Boss, I was just…uh–”

“Oh stop picking on her.” You gently swat at your fiancée’s arm and break away from her hold, quickly grabbing her hand and practically dragging her forward. “Let’s just go and eat dinner like we’d planned–”

Although you’re not able to see, Bada sends Hyo a look that screams, “You ruined my plans,” as you force her into the car.

Hyo gulps, moving to face forward and placing her hands on the wheel of the car.

Yeah, she’s in for it.

The rest of the night surprisingly goes without a hitch after that. After leaving the Lee mansion, Hyo had proceeded to drive you two to the La Yeon, an upscale restaurant that serves traditional Korean cuisine, and only caters forty guests at a time. Bada had reserved a private room for you both to dine, so naturally Hyos stood outside as watch, only hearing small noises from your lively chatter.

But the real hell began on the car ride back to the Lee mansion.

The three of you had been sitting in a peaceful silence when you suddenly spoke up, curiosity striking you, "Just how much did you have to pay for the private room we ate in?"

Bada nonchalantly shrugs, "Not much."

"Somehow, I doubt that," you banter.

Bada shifts her gaze from staring straight ahead to glance at you. "Well, it wasn't much for me."

"Ah, that makes more sense," you nod, releasing a small laugh. "But you know, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants. I'd be happy to spend time with you, no matter where we do it."

Your fiancée shakes her head, "I don't take you out of obligation. I do so because I love you. I want you to experience establishments that are worthy of your presence."

Turning your attention to Bada, you gaze at her through the barely-lit car. Her eyes reflect deep sincerity, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Bada... I'm just a woman—"

"You're not just a woman," she interrupts, her eyes stern yet holding glints of love behind the firmness. "You are my woman. My fiancée. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't treat you?"

Bada's passionate gaze makes you turn away, your hand ghosting over your mouth as you grow bashful. "You can't just say things like that," you whisper, your voice meek and soft.

"Why? Does hearing how much I love you make you nervous?" Bada laughs, amused by your reaction.

"I just..." you trail off, struggling to find words to express your feelings. "I love you." Those three words are the only way to convey the warmth coursing through your body.

Bada smiles softly, grabbing your hand which you’d positioned in your lap. "I love you more."

You intertwine your fingers with hers, observing the way she affectionately runs her thumb over the gem on your engagement ring. "But you know," you suddenly add, prompting your wife to look up from your joined hands to meet your gaze. "you could have mentioned we were going to a Michelin-star restaurant. I felt a bit underdressed..." Your eyes shift down to the silky white dress you're wearing. While undeniably elegant, its somewhat scandalous design features thin straps supporting a teardrop-shaped neckline that accentuates your boobs, which gracefully twists into the bodice and tapers into the gown's lower hem.

"Underdressed?" Bada says incredulously. "You look absolutely beautiful–"

"All the other women were wearing name brands and elegant dresses–" you protest, but are cut off.

"What does it matter what they were wearing?" Bada furrows her eyebrows, genuinely confused by your words. “You could walk into this restaurant in your pajamas, and you’d still outshine every single one of those women.”

You let out a sharp breath, smiling shyly. “There you go again. I think you enjoy making me flustered.”

“If you’ve just barely realized that, I clearly have not been doing my job.” Bada laughs, gently squeezing your hand, which still remains in her grasp. “By the way, I thought I had thoroughly expressed how much I love the way you look, earlier.”

A fire lights in your stomach as you glance at her. “Well…”

“I really am not doing my job, am I?” Bada uses her unoccupied hand to gently touch the side of your face, and leans in. “I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you look in this dress.”

That last sentence sealed Hyo’s fate. She continued to drive as you let out small giggles, and Bada whispered things in your ear. What exactly she said, Hyo doesn’t want to imagine.

Upon arrival at the Lee mansion, you and Bada are a mess of scandalous whispers, and chuckles as you both ascend up the steps, your bodyguard lagging behind to park the car. But it seems you two are far too excited to keep your hands off each other, because when Hyo walks toward the Lee mansion steps after returning the Porsche to the garage, you’re both nowhere to be found. Your bodyguard rushes up the steps, mumbling curse words under her breath as she opens the door and races up the mansion’s winding staircase, heading toward the only place you must be, your shared bedroom.

When she makes it there, she instantly walks to the right side of the door, her back up against the wall. She lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that Bada was too busy to tell her off for lagging behind.

But then she hears it, a small sound, simple and tiny, innocent.

“Bada!” You squeal, while a creaking sound barely reaches Hyo’s ears. It sounds like you’d been thrown onto the bed.

Inside the bedroom, Bada moves to hover above you, planting either of her arms beside your head. She smirks down at you, her eyes sweeping over every sliver of your skin that’s available to her prying eyes. She leans in to rub her nose against yours cutely, watching how you crinkle yours and smile out of instinct. “You’re fucking adorable.” Bada breathes, then places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper when she pulls away.

“I love you more.” She whispers back, moving her hand to grab at one of the straps of your dress. She thumbs at the silk until she slowly begins to move the strap down your shoulder, the movement so light a shiver runs up your spine as you watch her. When she fully slips down the strap of the dress, your bare tit is exposed to the cold air, which makes your nipple pebbling because of the sudden temperature difference. “No bra?” Bada presses her thumb against your nipple, starting to trace delicate, mithodical circles to the sensitive bud.

“The fabric is thicker than it looks–” You breathe, but the words die on your lips as your fiancée moves to drag the other strap of your dress down. Now both of your tits are exposed to Bada’s hungry eyes.

“I really love this dress.” She grabs either side of your boobs, pushing them together to oggle the way your flesh meets to make a tantilizing image. The soft skin of your tits glows in the light, and the way your nipples continue to pebble because of the cold has Bada captivated.

“I think you should take it off me.” You say coquettishly.

Bada stares at you for a moment with an excused expression before she releases your tits and sits up. “Actually, I had different plans for you.” She steps away from the bed, making her way to the dresser beside it before opening the bottom drawer. You turn your head to the side to watch with a confused expression, but what she pulls out from the drawer makes you smile.

Bada takes out a bottle of lube and her long, black strap, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes to see you carefully studying her every move with excitement in your eyes. “Looking forward to it, are we?” She remarks.

“Should I not be?” You flip over onto your stomach, placing your head in the palm of your hand as Bada begins to take off her dress pants and shirt. Like always, she only has her boxers and her bra on while she puts on her strap.

“Do you need help?” You pipe up.

Bada looks up and smiles. “If you’re offering.”

You quickly get off the bed and kneel down in front of your fiancée, helping her manuver through the harness and secure it onto her pelvis. When you’ve finished, you don’t stand up, instead, you look at Bada as you lean forward to press a kiss on the head of her cock, running your tounge along the silicone.

Bada lets a small hiss at your actions, her hand coming down to gently rest on your head. “C’mon.” She pats your head, signalling you to get up.

You do so without a single protest falling from your lips, but you take the bottle of lube out of Bada’s hand, pop it open and slowly place a glob of the sticky substance into the palm of your hand. Before your finacée can say anything, you lean in and place a passionate, all-tongue kiss as you rub up and down in cock, twisting your wrist like you’re really trying to give her a hand job.

Bada groans into your lips, grabbing the sides of your face and deepening the kiss until you’re just swapping saliva messily, small strings of it clinging to each other’s lips, connecting you two together. “Sit on the bed.” She whispers inbetween your clash of mouths.

You pause, then take a step back from your fiancée, your lips parted as you let out staggering breaths. Backing up until you feel the edge of the bed gently collide with your legs you sit down like you were told to.

Bada is quick to follow after you, but to your surprise, she doesn’t push your back onto the bed; instead, she climbs on and reclines against the bedframe with her back cradled by pillows. Her position makes her cock stand tall on her pelvis, the large head slightly drooping downwards when she slaps her thighs. “Sit on it.” She tells you, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion but crawl towards her anyway, taking off your panties before placing your thighs on either side of her hips and sitting down just shy of her cock. “I thought you said you were going to show me how beautiful I look in this dress.” You lightheartidly banter. Truthfully, you don’t care who does the work, all you want is to have Bada’s dick inside you, tearing you apart. But, then again, if she was going to tease you, you might as well do it back once or twice.

“What, you can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” She laughs, stretching her arm out to place it on your right thigh.

“I can.” You huff, feeling embarrassment start to burn in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t know.” Bada imitates a thinking face. “You’re kind of a pillow princess if I’m being honest.”

“Wha–” You stutter, your mouth dropping open. “I’ve eaten you out before.”

“And who was still in charge then?” Bada argues, her amusement growing every passing second.

“Well–”

“Listen to me.” Your fiancée suddenly cuts you off, leaning forward so that her face is only inches away from yours–her cock slaps against her stomach, the action going unnoticed by her, but not by you. “Fuck yourself on my dick, and if you do well, I’ll take over and finish you off.” She takes her left hand and places it on your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. She takes note of how your skin feels unnaturally warm. “Does that sound good, baby?”

Your eyes, which had gone wide out of pure shock stare back at her like lustrous gems. You slowly begin to nod, forcing yourself to close your mouth and swallow. Bada nods with you, then moves to rest against the headboard again, her back hitting the pillows.

Although the tone she’d taken on was domineering, she still holds one hands out for you to take, so she can help you up onto her cock, while the other bunches up your long dress so it’s not in the way. You, of course, take her hand and with her added strength, lift yourself up until the tip of her cock just barely slaps against your pussy lips. You let out a shaky breath at the small surge of stimulation, but focus on inching your hips downward. Slowly, the tip of Bada’s strap fills up your pussy, every inch making you breathe harder and your hips stutter. The slight confidence you’d felt just a moment before instantly fades away as you close your eyes and stop moving.

“It’s only the tip, I should be able to take more,” you think, but truthfully even just the tip of Bada’s long and thick strap would be hard for anyone to take.

“Don’t do it all at once.” Bada’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes and look at her. “It’s big. You’ll hurt yourself.” She says tenderly. “Just take it slow.”

You listen to your fiancée, carefully and meticulously sinking onto her cock, taking small breaks in between every inch until you’re finally able to sit in her lap, every inch of her monsterously big cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” You pant, leaning forward to catch your staggering breath and to give your pussy a time to adjust.

Bada watches you with a fond smile on her lips, she leans in to press a small kiss on your cheek–which just so happens to angle her cock further into you, making you gasp. “You took it all, I’m so proud of you.” She whispers sweetly, the soft side she only has for you peeking through her dominant demenour.

“I–” You say through heavy breaths. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright, just breathe.” Bada grabs hands grab at the sides of your face, trying to ground you. “In and out honey, in and out.”

You try to take in a deep breath but it catches in your throat. Still, with Bada’s guidance, you slowly begin to calm your breathing until it settles into small puffs.

“There.” She mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You nod, shaking your head. “Just…it’s been a while–”

“I know it has, which is why you need to take it slow baby.” Bada’s eyes flash with a small glint of worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not, just took a little longer to adjust.” You place your hand over Bada’s, now wearing a confident expression. “I can do it.”

Your fiancée gives you a hesitant look but slowly leans back, allowing you to take the reigns. You start off slow, moving up just an inch before sitting back down. Then the next time you go up you go a bit further, so on until you’re able to take out half of Bada’s strap before slamming back down on her lap.

You also start to pick up your pace, angling your hips forward so her cock drags against your walls deliciously. You let out small, breathy moans with each rise and fall of your hips, still trying to get more out of her strap. But it feels like you can’t. Every time you think you can take out more you feel your legs weaken and have to slam yourself down on her lap before you awkwardly fall.

All the while Bada watches you, carefully zeroing in on the base of her cock, which is only wet with a minimal amount of your slick. She catches every moment you struggle on top of her, trying so hard not laugh at how cute your frustrated face is. “Do you need help?” She asks after she notices you lose your rhythm and slam onto her lap with a small annoyed curse.

“No.” You say stubbornly. Trying to prove her wrong, you use all your strength to lift up from her cock and this time manage to get another inch out before you have to quickly go down again. This time the sensation is deeply pleasurable so you let out a louder moan, but in your attempt to savor the feeling you once again lose your rhythm.

“So, you still don’t want my help?” Bada tilts her head to the side, just barely able to stop herself from chuckling at the glare you give her. But this time, you don’t answer her, instead, you just pant on her lap, looking like a defiled angel in your silky white dress that’s clutched between Bada’s hand, the straps having fallen so far down your body that some of your stomach is revealed, the other covered by the tight bodice. “All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll keep my promise from before.”

Truthfully, beyond feeling bad for your current inability to pleasure yourself, Bada just really wants to fuck you. The dress you’re half wearing is still doing things to your fiancée, the contrast of the pure white against your skin, which is stained with sin and sweat makes her desire to slam her cock into you reach incalcuable heights.

Looking at your fiancée, you bite your bottom lip in thought. There are two ways you could go about this. You could keep trying to ride Bada and probably only give yourself half the pleasure she can, or you can say yes and let her fuck you like she said she would.

…The answer is obvious.

“Yes.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Without a single second to spare, Bada lets go of your dress and grabs ahold of your hips, flipping your positions with such quick speed that it leaves you dizzy and giggling.

Bada runs her hands up and down your figure for a moment, leaning down to place a kiss on one of your tits before placing one on the other.

“Put one of the pillows between your head and the headboard.” She tells you, pointing at a lone pillow beside you.

Confusion flows through you but you do what she asks anyway, propping the pillow on it’s side so it cradles the top of your head.

Bada gives you a smile, then takes both of your hands into hers. She coils her long fingers between yours and stretches her arms out so that your arms are held above your head. “I’ll show you how good my cock can feel.” She whispers into your ear, the words just barely leaving her lips before she takes out the entirety of her strap out of you and slams it back in.

The sudden fast and strong movement makes the headboard slam against the wall, and your head slides up, wich would have painfully hit the metal if it weren’t for the pillow Bada told you to put behind your head.

Your fiancée’s deep and fast stroke makes you let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” Bada mumbles proudly. “Bet that felt so good after all that fooling around you did before.”

Outside of your shared bedroom, Hyo stands frozen in her spot, the sound of the slamming accoumpanied by your loud moan making her gulp. She hadn’t been able to hear a thing before this, which is why the sudden rancourous noise startled her, almost making her jump.

“It’s fine,” She tells herself. “They’re just…having fun, that’s all.”

But again, another loud slam followed soon after by your pleasure-filled cry leaks out of the bedroom, the sound echoing cruelly in Hyo’s ear.

“Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Inside the bedroom, you don’t have the capacity to worry about about the fact that anyone in a five foot radius would probably hear you moaning and screaming like a whore, because your fiancée is fucking you within an inch of your life.

Like you’re a ragdoll, Bada takes you by the hips and angels them so that one is up in the air and the other lays on the bed, her cock slamming in and out of you at an insane speed. She’s moving so fast that your slick–which had tripled from what you produced when you were fucking yourself–is squirting onto her boxers and creaming at the base of her cock. It looks like a ring of sweet whipped cream against her thick black strap.

“I need to get this room sound-proofed.” Bada manges to say between heavy breaths. “You’re screaming like a fucking pornstar, baby.”

You’re unable to say anything, the only thing falling from your lips is moan after moan, which is somehow not overshadowed by the thundering sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aw, have I fucked all the thoughts out of you?” Bada drives her cock into you in a deep stroke, hitting that sweet spot in you that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck!” You close your eyes, mind turning to mush as your fiancée quickly takes her strap out, the ridging on the silicone catching against your hot and gummy walls, giving you profound pleasure.

Another rush of slick follows the exit of Bada’s dick, strings of it clinging from your pussy to the black strap, connecting you both. It would be poetic if what you were engaging in wasn’t pure, unadulterated sin. Immoral is the way that your lover slams every inch of her cock into you, sweat and your essance falling onto the sheets, leaving a stain as a testament to your depraved doings.

Bada reaches over to take the silk of your dress into her hands again, flipping all of it upward so that she can properly see her dick splitting you apart, rubbing your walls and hitting the front of your clit perfectly.

“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, is there?”

Proving her absolutely correct, you don’t respond.

“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to think. You just have to lay there, looking pretty in this dress while I slam my cock into you.” The way Bada cooes into the hot air of your bedroom makes your eyes almost roll back into your head. She knows just what to say, and when to say it. “Keep moaning like that, it’s fucking hot.” She adds, her own cunt pulsing beneath the fabric of her boxers. The way she’s pounding her strap in and out of you so forcefully makes the base of it rub against her cunt harshly, the slight pain and pleasure mixing together to make the coil in her stomach slightly tighten.

Like the obedient slut you are for your fiancée, you let out one loud, scream of, “I’m close!”

That only serves to reinvigorate Bada, who quickly takes your leg which is up in the air and sets it on her shoulder, allowing her to push her entire pelvis into you with a fast and intense stroke, which again hits your g-spot.

That’s what finally makes the tight coil in your stomach burst, a long stream of cum gushing from your pussy as Bada continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Of course, you can’t help yourself. Every loud curse and moan that falls from your lips settles into the air of the bedroom before floating through the crack between the door and the wall, the sound reverberating in the hallway of the Lee mansion.

Hyo, who had been counting to one thousand in her mind with her eyes screwed shut and her head down, realeases a long breath. She shakily breathes in and out, applauding herself for her immense self-restraint.

“It’s over.” She thinks, the voice of her internal dialouge fostering a relieved tone. “That was a long one. Sounded like she was getting strapped–”

Hyo surprises herself with her last thought. She suddenly straightens her back, shaking her head a bit.

“Stop–stop thinking about it.” She mentally scolds herself. Her cheeks are red, but under the dim lighting it’s impossible to see, and the wide, ashamed look in her eyes is hidden by her sunglasses. “That’s your boss and her future wife in there, it’s not–it’s not right.”

It isn’t.

But her wandering thoughts would be the least of Hyo’s worries, because while she counted to one thousand moments prior, a certain blonde Bebe girl had spotted her standing outside your and Bada’s shared bedroom, all the while your loud moans and slamming sounds filled the air.

“If I’d have known she was there I would have told her to keep quiet about it.” Hyo grumbles. “Now all the girls think I’m into that type of stuff–”

“Ouch!” The sound of your hurt whine cuts Hyo’s thoughts off.

She freezes in her spot, but out of pure instinct, and briefly forgetting what was going on beyond the doorway to Bada’s office, she reaches for the holster of her gun, and swings around to look inside the office.

And what she sees changes everything…

#bada lee x reader #bada lee x reader smut #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)

pairing: lee chan x fem!reader

genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?

description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset

warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr

quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"

wordcount: 8.2k

Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined.

Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend.

“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry.

Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”

He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago.

“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.

Your life was ruined.

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.

“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers.

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can?”

“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully.

“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.

“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…”

Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene.

Oh. Okay.

You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up.

”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out.

You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.

You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest.

God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed.

You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up.

It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew.

You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you.

“Y/n?”

You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?”

He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.

“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.

Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.”

Another pause. “Old Yeller.”

The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?

A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.”

The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words.

The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.

“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!” _____________________________

Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward.

What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.

“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.

You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.

“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.”

You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you.

“Alright,” he whispered to himself.

_____________________________

You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal.

You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so.

And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation.

“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.”

Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago.

Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges.

Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side.

And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”

You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”.

Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said.

And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.

He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.”

You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away.

He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.

“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.”

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral.

“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?”

You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically.

“I’m not lying.”

You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu.

“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.”

A pause. You sat up.

“Oh.”

He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.

Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.”

“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.”

It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly.

“Bye, N/n.”

“Bye, Channie.”

He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.

It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.”

You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.

When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears. _____________________________

A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.

That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café.

“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously.

“Yes, we’re worried about you!”

“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.

“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.”

“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan.

“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”

“Did you just say ‘fricken’?”

“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.”

“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.”

“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”

“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--”

“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.

“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.”

Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006.

“Thank you anyway.” _____________________________

Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water.

Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost.

Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank.

“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him.

“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.”

Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?”

For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.”

A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?”

“Uh-”

“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-”

“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.”

Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.”

“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.”

Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?”

All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.

But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.”

Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.

“Fuck this.”

Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward.

It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse?

But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.

“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him.

“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.

Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater.

“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared.

“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.”

He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out.

“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible.

And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.

“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.”

“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?”

“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.”

Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?”

“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.

“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!”

Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.

“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-”

“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.”

Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.

“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.”

You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-”

Yes.

Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp.

Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.

“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.

“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again.

He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle.

“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.

“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop.

You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!”

He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat.

“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.”

Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast.

He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.”

You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.

“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.”

You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in.

You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes.

“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.”

“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.”

“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.”

His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!”

At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach.

Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.

“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed.

“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."

Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.

“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.

“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.

“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."

#lee chan x reader #chan x reader #lee chan smut #chan smut #dino smut #dino x reader #svt chan x reader #svt dino x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #svt angst #dino angst #chan angst #lee chan angst

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 2 months

Text

An Odd Request

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word count: roughly 1K

Steve’s wife goes to the gym and makes an odd request when she arrives home.

Warnings: sorta NSFW (mdni), use of Y/N, terms of endearment (baby).

Author’s note: This is just fluffy Steve and was written directly after I got home from the gym needing this man and a very specific kind of cuddling so…here it is! Short and sweet and very silly. Hope y’all enjoy!

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Harrington household. Steve was the only one home, having a few hours on his own as Y/N went to meet her personal trainer. She had been seeing a trainer for a while as she, quote on quote, wanted “to be able to carry all the groceries in a single trip all by myself.” A noble and worthy cause in Steve’s eyes and yet as long as he was around, she’d never have to lift a finger. He was more than content to show off his own strength for her enjoyment…and yet wished to support her in any and all of her goals so off to the gym she had gone. As such, he had the home to himself for a few hours, a chance to get some work done.

He had spent most of the morning thus far drinking his coffee and sketching up new basketball drills and formations for the middle school team he coached. He finally understood exactly what Hopper had meant all those years ago about “coffee and contemplation” finding more and more that the man’s wisdom was never ending the older he got. We’ve gotta tighten up their current formations, he thought as the TV played some mindless sitcom in the background while he chewed on the end of his pencil. His mind looked over the squiggles on the paper in front of him trying to decide how to fix this. It had been weeks since they had won a game and morale was dropping fast. Jamie has to pass more but Donovan can’t really shoot…maybe if we move Paul to center and then swap Jordan and Cole we could-

The man wasn’t given another moment to think as he heard the front door open and close with a loud slam, the sound of feet padding their way down the entry hallway.

“Hey, baby!” Steve called as he continued to focus on the squiggles, drawing a few more lines before erasing them with equally as much vigor, “How was the gym?” A loud groan was all he received in reply as his wife dropped her bag to the ground and kicked off her tennis shoes, not even bothering to put them in the basket where she knew they belonged. The same basket she insisted his shoes lived in but rules didn’t apply to her, at least not right now. I’ll tease her about it later. “That good huh?” He called with a low chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well your protein shake is in the fridge. Should be cold enough since I put it in when you left.” Oddly enough, the man received no response. He waited a moment before he called again, looking up from his work.

“Bab-” And just like that she was in front of him. He jumped and let out a quiet swear as he clutched a hand to his chest. He hadn’t seen her before she had left and found himself taking a sharp inhale as he looked her up and down. She looked so fucking gorgeous in those tight black leggings that fit her just right, a simple white workout top, hugging her every curve, and the expensive black workout jacket he had saved up to get her for Christmas that she never left for the gym without. Not to mention the way her hair looked post-workout and the glow of sweat that radiated off of her. He was about to open his mouth to make some lewd remark he hoped she’d find charming but-

“Hold my tits.” The man blinked once, then again, his mouth open and gaping like a fish.

“W-what?”

“I want your hands on my tits,” Y/N repeated, holding his gaze with complete and utter seriousness, “Please.”

“Like…you want my…”

“Your hands. On my tits. Now.” When the man continued not to move his wife let out a deep sigh and took the pencil from his hand, laying it down next to his sketch as she replaced it with something much better. She led his large palm gently to her breast, letting out a sigh of relief as she encouraged him to give a little squeeze. Again, Steve didn’t even know what to do, never having seen her like this. Sure, she was usually a little more cuddly and blissed out after the gym as the endorphins ran through her body but this was…new. A good kind of new.

“So I take it you had a good time at the gym?” The man teased breathlessly as he ushered her around the coffee table to sit beside him on the couch. The woman let out a hum in confirmation as she laid down so they were pressed together, her back to his front, and wrapped his arms around her so his hands could live right where she needed them to. Another chuckle came from Steve as he buried his face into her hair finding-

“Did you put on perfume?”

“After working out,” she whispered as her eyes closed shut in complete and utter satisfaction, being held just the way she needed to be right now, “Didn’t want to come home smelling only like sweat.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve used his nose to brush the hair from the side of her neck, making her giggle as he pressed mindless kisses there, “I smell like sweat all the time and you still love me.”

“I do,” Y/N titled her head so he could press a kiss to her lips, one she returned eagerly before laying her head back down on the couch, “Fuck, I’m never doing the Stairmaster ever again.”

“Y/N, baby, if this,” Steve gave her tits a little squeeze to punctuate his thought, “is what happens after you’re on the Stairmaster, by all means, keep doing it. Any excuse to cuddle with my pretty little wife and hold her boobies is more than fine by me.”

“Don’t call them that,” Y/N scrunched her nose with a chuckle as she pressed her ass more into him to fit them closer together.

“What?” The man teased giving another squeeze, “Boobies?”

“STEVE!” The couple dissolved into a communal fit of giggles as they lay there together, all stress and strain completely forgotten as calm domesticity filled their hearts and home.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fluff

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tryingtofindava · 4 months

Note

Do you write for Liu? If so, what are your hcs for dating him?

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐢𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: starting 2024 w Liu and Sully lolz

This boy has probably has little to nonexistent experiences with dating (minus like maybe dating one or two girls in high school), and it fucking shows. He’s an absolute nervous wreck lol.

I’m gonna be COMPLETELY honest with ya here babes, but literally NOBODY saw you two becoming a thing.

“No one will believe us when we turn up together.”

“You know I love to shock people, so this will be great.”

He wants to escalate the relationship, but he doesn’t know how without making him seem like a desperate loser.

Cute little dates involve quieter and more intimate settings where he feels more comfortable in less crowded areas.

So maybe a trip to the library during its quieter hours or just wandering around the most scenic parts of the woods.

His love languages are: words of affirmation, gift giving, quality time and acts of service. So basically all of them except physical touch.

Speaking of physical touch, he isn’t against holding hands on kissing, he’s just not all that into PDA. He’s a snuggle bug behind closed doors tho :)

Words of Affirmation: Since he’s self conscious about the stitches (which have been in since 2011 take ‘em out girly) and scarring that litters his body to remind him of the past. He likes when you mutter sweet nothings in his ear. Tell him he’s pretty, he’ll melt.

Gift giving: HDJDBJDBXHDJ HE MAKES YOU CUTE LITTLE POEMS AND HAND WRITING NOTES ITS HONESTLY LIKE THEM TIKTOKS U SEE WHERE THEY PULL IT OPEN AND IT JUST KEEPS GOING AND GOING.

Quality time: Just being near each, not talking just comfortable silence as you guys just do your own things. As long as you’re near, he’ll be alright. He treasures these moments between you two w his heart and soul.

Acts of service: he’ll bring you you’re favourite snacks, and helping you out when you’re struggling with whatever (bad mindset, chores, etc…)

The first he held hands w you, it’s a nervous yet heart warming moment to see, he’s such a cutie patootie.

Now it’s time for Sully lolz…

On the creepypasta wiki it quote on quote says: ‘He holds some consideration and feelings for Liu himself since they share a body and he refrains from killing anyone Liu cares about due to 'Not wanting to make Liu depressed.’’

SO YOU’RE SORTA SAFE FROM HARMS WAY!! :D

Sully’s the type of mf to randomly flick you on the forehead and laugh a smidge before going back to being all Batman-y and brooding.

And depending on his mood, he might act sorta lovey dovey. Might.

The most you’ll get his maybe a arm around the shoulder. Maybe.

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

“At least a twenty.”

He will maybe let you rest on him tho. But if anyone was to walk in, you’ll get a slight nudge off.

He’s deffo the more jealous and possessive one, especially around Jeff lol. He’s not letting that Heath Ledger joker lookin mf getting ANYWHERE near you.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta reader #liu woods x reader #homicidal liu x reader #sully creepypasta #creepypasta x you #creepypasta sully x reader #liu woods x you #creepypasta x y/n #creepy pasta x reader hc #creepypasta x female reader

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igotanidea · 10 months

Text

No strings attached (2) : neighbor!JT x reader

masterlist

part. 1

***

„What happened?”

When Jason came into the staircase the first thing he noticed was Y/N, who was crouching next to her door with a sad face, cleaning something that seemed awfully like….

“Is that blood?!” he yelled, falling to his knees right next to her.

“What?” she scoffed “Of course not, are you crazy? It’s just paint.”

“sorry….” He mumbled. Jason had way to much experience with blood to not think about that particular thing when he saw Y/N’s door swimming in color red. “Who did this?”

“I have some ideas.” She retorted pointing at one half-scratched word, that at the moment were proudly announcing to the world that she was a bitch. “Guess your lady friend really doesn’t like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason said again, a bit of remorse showing on his face “let me help you with this. It’s only fair given the fact it’s all my fault.”

“I can handle it.”

“Please, Y/n.” he whispered and only then she turned around to fully look at him. Well he was fine. Tall and well-build with a mop of black hair with a single white strand right above the forehead and pretty green eyes that were currently showing all of his remorse for the situation.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked just to deflect the tension she felt and that question took them both by surprise.

“It’s…. kinda long story.”

“Really? So it has nothing to do with acting like a bad boy and trying to keep your cool?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head and smiled lightly “it’s fine if you don’t want to talk. After all we don’t really know each other.”

“But…..” he tried to chime in but she didn’t let him.

“given the circumstances I think it’s better if you just stay away from me, Jason. I mean look what happened after the first time we talked. Next time some other of your ex-girlfriend see me with you, I’ll probably end up with a knife in my chest or an acid on my face. Not exactly a nice perspective, am I right?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jason hissed trying to reach for the sponge Y/N was using to clean.

“Yeah, sure. Does she know that?”

“I told her!”

“Sorry sunshine, but take it from a girl with experience. She won’t let go easily. I know I wouldn’t.” She babbled and put her hand inside the bucket with water, accidentally touching Jason’s hand. Only then her eyes grew wide at the sudden realization of what she said dawning on her.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jason smirked and raised an eyebrow, even if that sudden touch was … nice, to say the least. Gentle, delicate, like nothing he was used to. Definitely not while patrolling and fighting at night. And even when he had female friends it was always physical. Rough animal fuck just to satisfy the basic needs. And it was fine. Convenient for both parties.

Jason was only familiar with pain, anger and a flood of sudden contradictory feelings in both Red Hood and Jason Todd version. And to his own surprise he enjoyed something different coming from Y/N even if she almost immediately retrieved her hand, not giving him w chance to dwell on that feeling.

“No.” she simply said. Nothing more. No explanation, no blushing, no excuses. Just one simple no.

“Shame. I think you are hot too.”

“Sure” she laughed so hard she actually started crying “I’m hot. That’s a hell of a good joke Todd. I look nothing like the hot girls. I mean, look at me.”

“I am…..”

“I’m not skinny, I hate wearing short and dresses because of my curves and I definitely don’t skip on meals just to lose weight and it shows. To quote a classic: I ain’t no size two. I’m fine with the way I look, but I am definitely not hot.”

“And yet, Madison clearly treats you like a threat.” He pointed out

“a threat?” the girl raised an eyebrow “nah, not at all. I’m nothing more than a stain on her fancy clothes. A stain you need to eradicate and that is precisely what she’s doing.”

“I don’t ….”

“I meant what I said, Todd. You better stay away from me. I really don’t need any more trouble than I already have.”

“Am I trouble to you?”

“You scream trouble. In more ways than one.” She rolled her eyes “I don’t know about you, but I’m fine with silently passing each other on the stairs. I’m not known for being too open with people.”

“Guess we have that in common.” He scratched his neck in an awkward way, wondering what he could possibly say to make her change her mind. The fact was, the more she was trying to push him away, the more he wanted to pull her in. He might have not been the one to form a true relationship, but the way she was acting and pointing at her body barely seconds before, got his mind spinning. He wondered how it would be like to have her. To have an innocent, maybe a bit shy girl and not a vamp, he was so used to, just to get himself off. How it would be like to feel her underneath him, get those soft hands on his body, to kiss all those places where she was insecure, whisper sweet nothings into her ear while making her feel good. Cause sure as hell he would. How it would be like to map her whole body, find the spots that would make her melt into him and elicit sweet whines and moans out of her, all of that while pressing her into the mattress or wall, seeing her face twisting in pleasure, maybe making her scream his name when she came …... Shit! What was happening to him!? He barely met her and she was his neighbor for fuck’s sake. Maybe all of those one-night stands finally messed up his brain. That was what he was doing. One and done? Sure, even if some girls were becoming clingy after one night (Madison being the best example). But fucking a neighbor he would pass by on a daily basis was surely not a good idea. At all.

“Great. I suppose we just made ourselves a deal.” suddenly she stood up bringing him back to reality “wanna shake on it?”

For a moment Jason hesitated. On one hand he wanted to feel her touch again, craved it even. On the other was fully aware that given his not-so-innocent fantasy-filled brain he wouldn’t be able to settle only on that. So he shook his head as an answer, refusing to fuel the fire inside him any further.

“Too bad.” She pouted “Anyway, it’s late and this stupid stain is not coming off. Guess that’s me saying goodbye to my deposit money” Y/N laughed bitterly “I’m just going to head to bed and I suggest you do the same.” She opened the door to her apartment, turning to face him before disappearing inside. ‘Good night, Jason.” she smiled lightly.

“Good night, Y/N” he whispered back, barely holding himself from grabbing her waist, pushing her into the wall and forcing his way in with her.

***

It was not a good night.

Well, definitely not for Jason.

It was irrational and crazy on so many levels, but he simply wanted the girl next door. And once he felt that desire there was no chances for him to let this go.

And the fact that she was giving him mixed signals was not helping at all. Did she tell him to stay away? Yes. But did she said goodbye with that pretty smile and sparkling eyes? Also yes. And fuck if Jason didn’t want to take some action with her.

But then again. He wasn’t doing relationship and hooking up with the neighbor, especially someone who seemed as kind and nice as Y/N would only cause trouble.

“Fuck!” he hissed to himself, barely capable of focusing on patrolling, beating the shit out of the criminals in more violent way than ever, getting needy and horny just by thinking about her. What was she doing at the moment? Was she thinking about him too? In the way he was thinking about her? No, that was nonsense, she had every reason to hate him. But maybe that hate would turn into some tension relieving and getting herself off? Alone? Was she lying in her own bed, touching herself, trying to get that sweet high? Fuck, he would be more than happy to help her with that. To introduce her to new levels of pleasure and ecstasy, which he was perfectly capable of providing.

If he were to knock on her door right that moment would she even bother opening? Dressed only in her pajamas or even better, wrapped up only in a towel, straight after shower making it so much easier for him to get what he wanted and needed?

Shit.

He could imagine her curvy body, still a bit damp from the water, her sweet smell, the softness of her hair. Her innocent, surprised gaze – the same she made when he first asked her to play his girlfriend in front of Madison. Holy shit, was she a virgin? Oh, he would be more than happy to be her first. The first to touch her body in a way she never knew before, to make her a woman.

“Fuck, just stop you idiot!” his mind was definitely falling into straight-from-porn fantasies. “Just stop it!”

But it was easier said than done and getting progressively more painful with every passing minute. And if he wasn’t careful some of the bats patrolling nearby would notice the tent in his jeans and tease him about it. So gathering all his strength, both mental and physical he started beating all those crime lords to a bloody pulp. The sign and smell of blood making him calm down a bit, drawing back the memories of the time when he was the one being beaten with a fucking crowbar and finally – killed.

Yeah, it definitely did wonders to his excitement, but nothing for his mental state and it quickly became more visible than the tent in the jeans.

‘Jace?” of course his caring older brother had to ask “are you doing all right? You got that gaze….”

“Just fuck off, Grayson!” Jason yelled not able to hold himself anymore. “Just fuck off!”

“What is wrong with him today?” Tim’s voice echoed through the comms, but before anyone could give him an answer Jason took off running leaving the surprised bats behind.

God, he just needed to be alone for a few minutes to help himself.

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 21 days

Text

Sword gays showdown, final round of bracket three

Propaganda:

For Gideon:

she's incredibly good w/ her two hander and less good with her rapier but she's still pretty good!! she is a horny lesbian who's taste in women seems to exclusively be "girls who have tried or are going to try to kill her". she's a redhead. i love her

Gideon’s a HUGE Butch lesbian and literally always wanted to use a broad sword. Specifically a broad sword. She said fuck rapiers. Uhhh literally dies to save the girl she cares for and the sword she uses then becomes like an altar for said girl. Gideon Nav Supremacy <3

oh she is the most badass swordswoman lesbian in media. she’s her gf’s cavalier, defends her in battle, she’s incredibly butch and buff

C'mon shes THE sword lesbian like... canonically

Loves her broadsword more than anything on her home planet and practices whenever she can. Spoiler it’s possessed by her mom. Gave everything so her best enemy could eat her soul and become the new saint. The character of all time child of two separate threesomes, child of the god emperor, she’s dead, she’s butch, she’s a dork, she’s doomed by the narrative. She’s my favorite.

girlie is literally the swordswoman supreme. she’s the cavalier primary to her necromancer. she has a fuckoff huge longsword. she gets absorbed into another person SPECIFICALLY to swordfight for them. in a gay way too.

While everyone else was developing common sense, she studied the blade. This dyke's main weapon and true love is the long sword, but she's also passable with a rapier. The sword is, in her own estimation, pretty much all she's good for. That and her smoking hot bod and terribly charming sense of humor.

"While we were developing common sense, she studied the blade." (Direct quote from the book). She's the most useless lesbian to ever exist, and she's obsessed with an absolute wet cat of a woman. Learned longsword mostly on her own and is such a genius with the sword she learned rapier in a few months (by personal experience, it's really really hard)

Most badass broadsword wielding lesbian easily slaying bone monsters and evil space wasps

The cavalier to her necromancer. very gay. in a complicated codependant lovehate relationship with the only other person her age she knew growing up.

For Adora:

Finding the sword kicks off the whole show. She transforms into a giant magic lady and is now in charge of saving everyone from the big bag guys (which she used to be a part of). A bunch of stuff happens, but eventually her identity is now tied to having the sword. She is fully convinced that w/o the sword (and therefore She-Ra) she’s worthless. This culminates in having to destroy the sword or the world ends. She’s super depressed bc her whole self worth was tied to the sword and being she-ra. On the way to save her gf, she turns into way cooler she-ra (her own version of it that is not controlled by the sword which was made by her colonialist ancestors). Her sword is now part of her identity instead of her identity revolving around the sword.

lesbian chosen one who was given a sword that activated her powers and made her into a living weapon, but she destroyed the sword to save her planet - and then made her own sword with her magic and saved the entire universe

#sword gays showdown #gideon nav #adora #she ra #spop #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #she ra and the princesses of power #tlt

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wandussyfantasy · 7 months

Note

Hey buddy

I have a request for Leigh Shaw and GN! Reader w peepee :)

Reader and Leigh have been a friends with benefits type of thing. Leigh also made it clear about no feelings since she wasn't over losing matt and she just needed a distraction. It isn't until she hears that Y/N has been going on a date with Becca, another widow from grief group.

Leigh then confronts reader about it and she realises in that moment that she has feelings for them which she tells them and then walks away. Ghosting them until they confront her at her home while Amy and Jules are out. They tell her how she has ruined their growing relationship with Becca by making them realise that they have always felt the same. Resulting in Leigh bringing them in for a passionate kiss and reader then asking if they can take her on a date.

Thank you awesome dude.

Love Me or Leave Me

Summary: You and Leigh have a special arrangement that gets disrupted when she finds out that you have been dating her friend, Becca.

Pairings: Leigh Shaw x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 6,749

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!leigh, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, agnst, car hookup, fantasies, teasing, foreplay, and creampie.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“‘What is grief, if not love persevering?’” The nerdy grief counselor reads out to the group from his notebook. “How can we relate this line to ourselves and our own experiences with grief?”

You sigh and look over to see that Leigh is just as unimpressed as you are with the new counselor. The one that usually led this group had to move to another state and so the organization has been trying to find a replacement. Unfortunately, the only people volunteering their time to help people with loss either haven’t experienced it themselves or are fresh out of college with psychology degrees they have no clue what to do with. You clear your throat and scratch behind your ear before you fake a phone call and leave the group. “I am so sorry, it’s my mother,” you excuse yourself as some regulars in the group try not to snicker. You walk out to your car and without much thought, you move it to a more secluded spot in the dark parking lot and swipe through a dating app as you wait.

Leigh knocks on your window a few minutes later. “I thought you wanted to give this guy a chance,” she says as she climbs on your lap.

“I did, until he started quoting a comic book character,” you kiss her to trigger the physical response you needed in order to feel something other than the annoyance and the pain of your loss. She is grinding against your bulge to help you harden. It doesn't take you long, it's been almost a full week since the last time the two of you have met up for this since you went on a short trip with your friends. “You look very pretty in this dress by the way,” you compliment her as you dip your fingers in her panties to rub her clitoris.

“Shut up,” she says, she thinks you only like it because of the easy access you'll have to her. But then again, that's why she chose to wear the dress in the first place. Leigh wasn't much for wearing dresses unless there was an occasion. Her mom was curious as she left the house and although this is the time Leigh normally attended the group, she began to wonder if her daughter was using that as a cover now and hoped that she was going on a date. You kiss as much of her exposed skin as you can while you finger Leigh and as much as she is enjoying the way your fingers know how to move, that's not what she is looking to penetrate her. She pulls your head up from her chest and kisses you hard. “Fuck me already,” she whispers impatiently.

“Alright,” you say as you unzip your pants and pull out your dick. “So bossy,” you grumble as you penetrate her. “But fuck, I’m not complaining,” you grunt as soon as her warm walls envelope your thick cock. Leigh holds onto the seat as she rides you until she realizes that something is missing.

“You have a condom on right?” She asks through breaths as she continues to move her body up and down on your lap.

“Uh,” you try to figure out the best way to tell her that you don't have one on and the best way at the moment as your brain is clouded with lust is, “No.”

She doesn't stop moving as she hits you upside your head. “Why not?!”

“You told me to fuck you already. It's not a big deal, I'll pull out. Oooh this feels so good.” You say as you continue to meet your hips with hers. You start to kiss her body and get even more turned on when you realize she doesn't actually mind that you're fucking her raw.

“Do you use them when you go on dates?” She asks as she slows down. Pregnancy wasn't her concern. She doesn't want to contract anything, she's gone this long without ever getting anything, she wants to continue that streak.

“No,” you start out plainly just to mess with. This time she stops moving completely and looks at you with wide eyes. You break into a smile. “I don't sleep with my dates. It's only been you since we started this arrangement. I'm clean, I promise. I got tested weeks ago.”

Leigh sighs as she wraps her arms around the back of the seat. You move your hands from her thighs to her ass. “Don’t scare me like that again, it's not funny.” She moves her hips in a small circle motion and you moan as you tip your head back as you promise not to do that again. With your neck exposed to her, Leigh does something she never really does. She leans in and starts to softly kiss your neck until she reaches a spot that depending on the shirt you'll be wearing after this, may or may not hide the mark she is about to leave.

As you feel her sucking on your skin you start to pound into her as you're getting so close to finishing. “How close are you?” You ask as you pick up the pace.

“Almost… almost there,” she pants out as she grips onto you.

“Where should I…?” you ask as you feel the build up of your impending climax. The answer that Leigh almost gives, surprises her and puts her over the edge as she imagines the way it would feel like to have your cock pulsing inside of her, filling her up with your semen. It's been so long since she's felt that. It was a surprisingly extremely rare occasion with her husband. Since he didn't want kids and was on and off depression medication they rarely had sex without a condom and even if they did, he almost never came because the medicine made it difficult for him. As she orgasms her walls clench around you almost as if they were trying to milk you. Her body is tempted to feel your release in full as she has felt you cum inside of her a few times with the condom on. But she wasn't going to feel it tonight. She pulls herself off of your cock, impressed that you held off your release and she grabs a napkin from the passenger's seat, you typically ate something on the way to the meetings. She covers the tip of your penis and uses her other hand on the base to help you cum. You groan as you empty into her hand.

“I'll see you later,” she kisses your cheek and exits your car.

Later that month, Leigh is meeting with Becca for tea before Leigh’s next class. The young widow is still teaching at her mother's women's health studio and Becca attends a class when she can to stay fit and stay connected with Leigh. The two have grown closer as Leigh finally started to let people in, slowly but surely, and Becca has learned to respect Leigh's need for space.

“So, I've been seeing someone,” Becca starts as she stirs her tea slowly with an anxious smirk as she tries to contain her excitement.

“Really?” Leigh is surprised, she didn't know that Becca was dating.

“Yeah,” Becca starts and waits for Leigh to press for more information and once she does, Becca's act falls apart as she spills all of her secrets. “So, you know Y/n, from group? That guy that lost his mom? He's also in some indie band that in my opinion is totally underrated and-”

“Isn’t Y/n nonbinary?” Leigh cuts Becca off, she didn't like it when people misgendered others, especially not when it's you.

“Yes! Oh shit, did I say 'he'? Damnit,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I'm still learning this whole gender and pronouns thing. Anyway it's Y/n. We've been on a few dates lately and I think it could turn into something. That's if I don't screw it up. Ugh, I hope I don't. I really like him- them! I like them.” Becca hangs her head. “I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose.”

Leigh remains quiet as she processes this information. She had your tongue inside of her just this morning when she accidentally broke a rule and spent the night at your place. Now she's finding out that you're dating her friend? “It’s fine, I think. I don't know. My sister knows more about it than I do. She says that some people don't mind the mess ups as long as you respect their preferences and don't use the wrong pronouns intentionally.” Leigh says to comfort the girl sitting across from her, giving herself a hard time.

“Ok,” Becca relaxes her shoulders. “But um yeah, what do you think? Is it bad that I'm going out with them? I mean, yeah, we sort of met at the group but we didn't start talking until we matched on a dating app. I completely didn't recognize them on their profile until we met in person.” Leigh asks if you recognized her on the app and Becca laughs. “They did! They said that's why they felt comfortable asking me out like an hour after we matched and they thought I recognized them too. We had a laugh about it. They're really great, I think the two of you would get along if you wanted more friends.”

Leigh plasters on a fake smile as she tries to ignore the pain this conversation is causing her. She cannot believe that you started to date Becca without telling her when you knew the two of them are friends. “How long have you been going out?”

“Oh we’ve been going on what he calls 'intentional dates' once a week every week this month but we hang out all of the time. Except when either of us is busy, which they tend to be. But it's okay, they send me cute messages when we're apart. We haven't been physical yet though, we kiss a lot but when I try to make it more, he stops anything from happening. Oh no, you don't think he might be gay do you?” She has a hand over her chest as she worries about what the lack of a physical connection could mean.

Leigh shakes her head as she sips her tea. “No, I'm sure they're trying to be respectful. I mean, your husband died while serving in the military and they have a band that hardly anyone has ever heard of. It can be intimidating,” she reassures her friend while subtly correcting her. Leigh wonders how often Becca messes up when it comes to how you identify. Leigh never fucks that up and doesn't know how people do. Right now, she can't even figure out what you see in this girl. Sure, Leigh knows you're dating around. But as far as she knew, they were meaningless dates that never got anywhere. She didn't consider what it would be like if you actually found someone that you were interested in. Leigh picks up her phone and sends a risky photo she has been debating for sometime on whether or not she should ever send it to you and adds the message, I need you tonight.

“You are so right, Leigh. They don’t know about how bad my marriage was before my husband died. Maybe I should make the first move!” Becca suggests and that sends images to Leigh’s head that upsets her. She doesn’t want to share you with her. She doesn’t want to share you with anyone. Especially since the two of you have been talking about maybe having more sex without a condom. She wanted to feel you coming inside of her but now she can’t have that if you’re seeing someone exclusively. She probably can’t have you at all if you continue to date Becca. Then Becca gets a message and her grin disappears. “Awe bummer, they canceled our date for tonight,” she frowns.

“Oh no, did they say why?” Leigh sips her tea as she poorly hides her enjoyment.

“Yeah, they have band practice. They’re going to let me know when they can reschedule.” She sets her phone on the table. “You don’t think they might be pulling away because they’re intimidated by my dead husband right?”

Leigh shakes her head, “Becca, you’re overthinking it. Have they ever given you reason to worry they’re not being truthful?”

“No,” Becca says as she thinks about it for a moment. “Well, other than the mark he had on our first date. It was like right here and I thought it was a hickey but he said he got it when wrestling with one of their bandmates.”

Leigh clenches her jaw as she remembers making that mark. How could you lie to her friend like that? To someone who is so trusting and sees the best in people. Then she gets a reply from you stating that you’re free tonight and will make dinner so they have something to eat after. The both of you know it’s against the rules to share a meal so close to having sex. Since the arrangement was friends with benefits, it wasn’t against the rules to share a meal and they have shared many friendly meals. She has even had you over for a meal with her mom and sister a few times. But when it was shared after having sex at night, it left the option of her falling asleep and spending the night again. Which she already did last night. After the first time that happened and she woke up comfortable and in your arms, she freaked out and didn't talk to you for two weeks and that's when it became a rule. It has only happened a couple times since but you always make sure you're up before she is.

Leigh knows she's breaking many rules with that picture and request, and she knows that you know it as well. The fact that you don't seem to mind it at all gives Leigh a warm feeling inside. She is the person you would rather spend your time with. “What’s that smile for? Do you have a hot date tonight?” Becca asks as she finishes her tea.

“What?” Leigh breaks from her thoughts and drops her smile. “No, I just, no. Um look at the time, we better get to the studio. I'm the instructor, I can't be late to my own class.” Leigh gathers her things and Becca follows as she gets ready to leave as well.

When Leigh arrives at your apartment, she is wearing the sexiest outfit she could find in her sister's closet. Jules was more than happy to lend the outfit and bit her tongue in asking too many questions, she was having fun dressing her sister up. It was another rule broken. Never dress up for sex. It's just sex, come as you are. She was starting to worry that she has broken too many rules by now. No more than one meeting within 48-hours. No sleepovers, unless absolutely necessary. No nudes. No meals together after sex. No jealousy. No preventing the other from getting into a relationship, unless absolutely necessary. No feelings, just sex. But the look you have when you open that door says it all. You don't care about the rules anymore. She wonders if you ever have.

Leigh greets you with a kiss, it's slow and deep. Unusual to the heated rushed ones you're used to. But you don't mind the change. “I have to say, that picture was quite the surprise,” you start as you guide her to the bedroom.

“So was your tongue this morning,” Leigh says as she bites her lip. “I thought you deserved a gift as a thank you.”

You hum, “Well, I didn't need one but it is very appreciated.” You walk her towards the bed with your hands on her hips. “You look stunning tonight, you rule breaker,” you have your lips on her neck as the two of you fall on the bed.

Leigh lets out a soft giggle in acknowledgement. “You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed, you practically gave me an exam on the rules before the first time we slept together. Well… technically the second time. The first time was an oopsy that got us to the rules.” You lightly remind her as you continue to kiss her body. You love her tastes and her sounds and the way she knows your body like no one ever has before. “What drove you to this?”

“Don't worry about it, let's just focus on making each other feel good,” Leigh says as she reaches between the two of you to stroke your cock. You don't argue or question her. You rock your hips into her hand until you have to pull away from her to undress. Leigh rises from the bed as you sit next to her and start pulling your pants down. Once your shirt is off, Leigh stands in front of you and when you're not paying attention to her she lifts your chin with her finger. “Watch me,” she says as she kisses your lips.

You are surprised by her again. Leigh starts to do a little strip tease for you. Pulling her clothing off slower than she ever has before. The way she sways her body around and removes the clothing is unpracticed and a little goofy but you don't laugh, you sit there and stroke your penis as you watch her. You lick your lips as you think about being inside of her again. There isn't anything else on your mind but being with Leigh right now.

However, Leigh is stressing herself out. She can't tell if you're enjoying her little routine or if you think she is being ridiculous. She rushes the ending of her little performance, thinking what Becca might do in this situation. She isn't sure, she doesn't know if Becca would be a slow and patient lover or a fast paced “let's get this over with” lover. Maybe she has kinks and fetishes. Maybe she's vanilla… Leigh can be pretty vanilla. Did you like that? Did you find her boring? Is that why you continue to date even though you have a sexual relationship with her? “Fuck, that was hot,” you whisper as she presses her naked body to yours, breaking her from her spiraling thoughts. You crawl back further on the bed, pulling her with you, and lean against the headboard. “I should have woken you up with a morning cunnilingus ages ago if this is the thanks I would've gotten,” you kiss her and Leigh smiles for a second until she reminds herself why she is acting this way.

Leigh is on a mission to make you see that you don't need Becca when you have her. No feelings. The rules echo in her head. This is just sex and friendship, nothing more. She tries to remind herself. At the moment she can't figure out how she ended up in this arrangement in the first place. Maybe it was something to do with that thing Becca mentioned to her about being touch starved. Maybe it was finding out that Matt had an emotional affair with his colleague. She could blame the arrangement on being a young widow and not wanting to give her heart to someone yet. Gosh she was a broken record lately. No wonder you were looking for something or more so someone more stable.

Your lips bring her back to the moment as you travel her body. “You’re so beautiful,” the compliment warns her heart, you don't normally compliment her so much. And under different circumstances, she might have left and not called you for a week but she loves how soft you're being with her right now. She hadn't realized how sweet you are until the thought of losing you started to become a reality.

“Let’s take it slow tonight,” she whispers as she lets go of the manic energy she came in with.

“Okay,” you caress her cheek as you agree. She leans into your touch as you do. You move your fingers under her chin and guide her into a slow kiss. She melts against you as your lips move together. You swiftly move the two of you so that you're on top of her. “Lay on your stomach,” you say. Leigh makes a face. “Just trust me.”

“Alright,” she flips onto her stomach and pulls the pillows under her arms to prop herself up comfortably. The mattress creeks as you leave the bed to retrieve the massage oil and Leigh lifts her head up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to give you a massage,” you say as you return with the oil. You straddle her legs, your cock laying against her soft bottom, rubbing the oil on your hands before you start to spread it in her back. You are slow and careful with where you apply pressure. Leigh has never been given a massage as part of sex before and she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. She couldn't deny that it felt good though, you really seemed to know what you were doing. As you rub her shoulders, you start to kiss her neck and as you move your hands lower, your lips and body follow.

You take a moment to rub and massage her butt cheeks then move onto her thighs. She started to hum as her body was a little sore from the classes she had to teach earlier. Leigh hadn't realized how much she needed this massage until she had your magic hands on her. Then as you're rubbing the back of her thigh, she feels your tongue inside of her and she lifts her head up again in surprise. She had gotten so lost in the other sensations that she forgot for a moment what the two of you were doing.

You only move your tongue inside of her for a minute or two before you return your focus to the massage. “Lay on your back now,” you say as you are now standing in front of the bed. Leigh flips over again, relaxing into the mattress in a way she never has before. You grab her left foot and start kneading it with your thumbs, following it with circular motions. Leigh wasn't someone that liked her feet touched in a sexual context but it's been forever since she's had a foot massage and the way you were doing it surprisingly wasn't turning her off. She's grateful when you don't kiss her feet.

You grab the towel you had brought with you and wipe the excess oil off of your hands. You crawl your way back up Leigh's body, stopping for a moment to kiss her pussy. You trace patterns on her skin with your tongue that send chills up her spine. She worries that it's about her too much and that she isn't doing anything to pleasure you but her thoughts leave her mind again as you latch your mouth on her breast with your fingers inside of her. She moves her hands from her sides to touch you as you continue to make her feel everything. She starts with running her fingers through your hair. It was longer than when she met you since you wanted to grow it out this year. She wasn't sure how this length would look on you but as it's grown, she hasn't had a single complaint. Then as your mouth moves across her chest, her hands move down your back. She can't massage you nearly as well as you had done for her but she does what she can and you appreciate the effort.

When you're done paying attention to her breasts, you pull your fingers out of Leigh. You trace her lips with the coated fingertips until you dip them in her mouth and she licks them clean. Your dick twitches at the sight. You kiss her on the mouth as you line yourself up at her entrance. You move the head of your penis up and down between her wet folds to prolong the action and then you reach for the condom on the nightstand.

“No,” Leigh stops you as she covers your hand with hers. “I don't want anything between us tonight,” she says. Always wear a condom, no matter what.

You nod, “Okay.”

You press into her entrance slowly and it's like she's feeling you for the first time. Like really feeling you. Not just riding you to get her climax. This isn't a drunken decision like the actual first time. This isn't just something that the two of you are doing to pass the time. This is real. The two of you are making love. This isn't fucking. This isn't just sex. It's slow and intimate and passionate. It's something that she wants for as long as she can have you. Leigh doesn't want to lose you to some other girl.

As the two of you make love, she decides that she isn't going to be afraid anymore. She is going to tell you how she feels about this arrangement and she hopes that you'll feel the same. As she gets closer to her climax her mind is wiped clean, not a thought haunts her as she chants, “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” over and over again. Anticipating her walls squeezing your penis so close to your own orgasm, you start to pull away from her, planning on having her finish on your mouth. But Leigh has other plans as you pull away, she locks her legs around your back, keeping you inside of her.

“Leigh, I won’t be able to hold off,” you warn her.

She kisses your mouth, “It’s okay, I want you inside.” Her words trigger the two of you to share the most euphoric orgasms either of you has ever had in your lives. You've never released inside of someone without a condom before and the feeling was like nothing you've ever experienced before. As for Leigh, she is enjoying every pulse of your penis as you empty your balls into her.

“Fuck, Leigh. What's gotten into you?” You pant out the question with a laugh as the two of you calm down. Once you start to soften, you pull out and roll next to her. Leigh is quick to roll on top of you, laying against your chest as you catch your breath.

“Nothing, just a thank you,” she replies as she snuggles against you. Holding you as close as she can. No cuddles or snuggles or any physical touch unless it's related to sex. Leigh tries to get her brain working again so she can tell you how she feels but she's also enjoying being in your presence and relaxing in the moment.

Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of time before your phone starts going off. You grab it from the nightstand and sigh with a frown. “I’m sorry, Leigh. I have to take this.” You kiss her on the lips while you pull away from her. Leigh wraps herself in your blanket as she watches you leave the room. You hop on one foot at a time as you put your basketball ball shorts on and answer the phone. “Hey cutie, what's up? Yeah, it's going great. Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tonight. But maybe we can do something tomorrow night?” You say as you walk away.

Leigh scoffs, she couldn't believe what she was overhearing. You had just came inside of her and you were making plans with Becca. Bubbly, positive, happy, pretty Becca. Not complicated and upfront with her feelings, Becca. Perfect widow, Becca. She gets out of the bed as she becomes blind with rage. She feels so used. Clearly breaking the rules wasn't enough to keep your attention. You still wanted her and not Leigh.

She angrily grabs her clothes off of the floor and when you return she is almost fully dressed. “What's wrong, Leigh?” You say as you notice how upset she is.

“You!” she snaps.

“What?” Leigh storms past you and you follow her. “Leigh, talk to me, please.” You try to get ahead of her before she can get to the door but the apartment is small and she has it swung open before you can push it closed. “Leigh, please, tell me what I did wrong!” You beg as you continue to chase her. It didn't make any sense, she was holding onto you. She let you cum inside of her. She sent you that picture. She was so happy five seconds ago. It couldn't have been the call, you've taken them a couple times before. One time she even answered the phone for you and sucked you off while you chatted with the girl. This doesn't make any sense.

“You had to start dating my best friend! Didn't you? What? One widow wasn't enough to have on your roster? You had to have two?” She shouts as she spins in front of you.

“Oh shit,” you stand there dumbly as you realize she knows about Becca. “Leigh, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be a big deal. And best friend? Really?” She narrows her eyes at you.

“So not the point,” she starts through gritted teeth as she stops and spins to look at you, “she is still my friend. That's so low of you to put in this position!”

“Shit,” you shut your eyes as you understand where she's coming from now. “Leigh, please, come inside and let's talk about this.”

“Are you going to stop seeing her?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple yes or no question. Are you going to stop seeing Becca?” She asks again.

“I don't know,” you deflate. “Becca is the first person, other than you, who seems to get me. We connect well and she's sweet and considerate and goofy and if I'm honest, I kind of like hanging out with her. It's not easy dating these days.”

“Do you want to get serious with her?” Leigh asks.

You haven't really given it much thought. You were just enjoying your time with Becca right now. In a similar way you were enjoying your time with Leigh. “I don't know,” you shrug. “Maybe? But what do you care?”

“What do I care? Do you really think I'm so heartless?” Leigh says back. “I care because I’m in love with you! You fucking idiot!” Leigh freezes and her angry expression drops as her blood runs cold in her body. She doesn't give you a moment to respond or even process. Leigh gets in her car and leaves. This time, you don't chase after her.

Leigh knew she wanted an exclusive relationship but she didn't know how deep her feelings ran. Is she ready to be in love with someone? She isn't sure. Not after the rollercoaster that was Matt and his secrets. You and her were a secret and you kept it so well. Can she even trust you? Do you trust her?

Her phone ringing snaps her out of her thoughts for a second. She knows it's you. She can't answer. This is not an easy situation by any means and she needs to distance herself from you. Figure out how she really feels and maybe you will do the same. There's a chance she could lose you for good. Lose you to Becca. But that could be a good thing for both of you.

Your phone calls don't stop for the rest of the night. The next day it's text messages and the day after, it's nothing. You finally go silent and Leigh is both relieved and terrified. She has no idea what you're thinking right now. She has no idea how you feel. She cannot believe she said those words to you. What was she thinking? She wasn't.

The next week she receives a few messages from you, asking to talk, but she never responds. Leigh isolates herself from everyone she knows just in case you try to go to them to get to her. She doesn't hang out with Becca because she cannot stand to hear how great things are between the two of you. Or how horrible things are. Either way, she doesn't want to know. When her mom and Jules try to ask her what's wrong, she avoids the subject and they figure that she's having another “Matt episode” and they leave her be.

Leigh decides to visit her husband's grave and think about the life they could have had. Would she be in his arms right now while he thought of another woman? Would he have left her for this woman? Or was it a crush that would have faded? Would he ever come around to the idea of kids? Or would that have been their breaking point? Did they get married too young? Did they move too fast? She has so many unanswered questions about their relationship, and he isn't here to help her figure them out. Not that him being here would have been much help. There are so many questions surrounding you and instead of talking to you, she's hoping that ghosting you will keep you away.

Another week goes by and this time she doesn't hear from you at all. More silence. But there is no peace in it. She can't keep going like this. She wants to call you but she's scared. At least this way, the only person that gets hurt is her. You and Becca can be living happily ever after with each other and she will try to find something simple and easy. The weekend that her mom is away at a retreat and Jules is spending the night at her current girlfriends house, Leigh invites Drew to go out. She drinks and dances and flirts until she finds someone to go home with. It gets hot and heavy and she sloppily makes out with this person, trying to get their clothes off. Except, it doesn't go past the intense kissing because she breaks down into tears. She falls apart in the strangers apartment and they are nice enough to allow her the space to let it out. She ends up passing out there and they let Leigh sleep it off in their bed and they move to the coach. They drop her off at her house early the next morning.

“Leigh,” your voice is broken and you wake to her slamming the car door shut. Leigh’s face is a mess from sleeping and crying in her makeup but that's not what you're thinking when you set your eyes on her. You startle her as she climbs the porch steps. “Oh,” you say as you put two and two together. Leigh's hair and outfit are all out of sorts and you remember seeing her like that after a night with you. “Okay then, I'm clearly wasting my time here,” you rise and stretch your stiff limbs, sore from sleeping next to the front door, and wipe yourself off. “I’m sorry, I'll leave you alone.”

Leigh watches you in shock, you're standing in front of her. You're a mess and you're here. She has images in her head of what you would look like by now. Clean and happy and waking up to a nice warm breakfast with Becca. Not here. Not waiting for her all night. “What are you doing here?” The words come out harder than intended and she wants to rewind but it's too late.

You scoff, “Making a fool of myself, clearly.” You start to walk away but Leigh reaches for your wrist to stop you and you do. It's been far too long without her touch and even this little bit is more than enough to get you to fall apart.

“I’m sorry, I panicked,” she says in a small voice with her head down. You sigh as you fight against your better judgment. She has a hold on you that you didn't realize was there until you almost lost it. Or maybe you have lost it. You don't know yet. “I’m not good at this. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.”

You aren't sure if she means that she's not good at ending things or if she's not good at fixing them. You look over at your car and think about the night you ended things with Becca. You still weren't certain if you felt the same way about Leigh or if you had those feelings for Becca so you had to see for yourself. You continued to talk with her after the whole thing with Leigh but you kept your distance. Then you finally took her on a date, ready to end the night in bed with her but throughout the evening you noticed how you had to force yourself to continue a conversation or even pay attention to one of her stories. It was natural with Leigh. When you tried to sneak a taste of her food she got weird and territorial about it, surprisingly Leigh never did. Whatever you thought you had with Becca before Leigh's confession was gone and you realized that the only person you wanted to be with was Leigh. So when you dropped Becca off at her apartment and she tried to kiss you, you stopped her and told her that you had a complicated thing with someone else and that you couldn't continue with Becca anymore. She took it very hard. She was in tears and she couldn't believe that you had strung her along the way you did. You tried to tell her it wasn't like that but it didn't do any good. It was hard to end things with her but it was what was best for the both of you.

Now you have to work it out with Leigh. Well, either you work it out or you have to let her go. “Just talk to me, Leigh. You tell me that you love me and then you run away. I've been worried sick for weeks and you wouldn't talk to me!” You pull your wrist out of her grasp and pace between her and the front door. Pulling on your already messy hair. “Then I come here and wait all night for you to let me in and you're off fucking someone else!” You stop in front of Leigh with red eyes and tears at the brim. “Am I stupid for being here?”

“No,” Leigh says as a wave of sadness hits her. Her lips quiver and she drops her shoes to grab your shirt to pull you close to her. “No, you're not stupid. I'm so sorry,” you let her lean against you, but you don't wrap your arms around her yet. Leigh sighs, happy to feel you again. “Gosh, I've missed you,” she whispers into your chest. “I didn't have sex with that person. I tried to but I didn't want to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ghosted you. I should have stayed. I'm sorry. Is it too late?” She pulls back enough to look at you.

Looking in her eyes, she is being sincere and vulnerable and you've never fallen for anyone harder than you are right now. You know that things won't always be easy with Leigh. But she is worth it. You wrap your arms around her and bring her into a warm embrace. You feel your heartbeat against you and it heals the cracks in your heart. “No, it's not too late.” You hold her. “But I do think we need to start over.”

“Okay, yeah,” she nods and sniffles. “Whatever you want. I'll do it. I just want to be with you,” she holds you tighter.

“I just want to be with you,” you say as you step back and pull her into a passionate kiss. It didn’t matter to you that she had a bad morning breath with a hint of whatever alcohol she consumed the night before. And your morning breath didn’t affect her either. In fact, she wanted more of you. But you pull away before she can deepen the kiss and rest your forehead against hers. “Will you let me take you out on a proper date, Leigh Shaw?”

“Yes, I will,” the two of you kiss again.

The End.

#smut #leigh shaw #leigh shaw smut #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x you

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