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viennakarma · 6 months

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Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It��s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her.

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around.

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders.

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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sweets3rial · 1 month

Text

i wanted it to be you.

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: you wanted it to be him. he wanted it to be you. though, life is unfair. you don't always get what you want.

tags: much angst, some comfort, pining, talks about the past, talks about past relationships, flashbacks, ex-bf lsk, engagement/marriage, cheating/infidelity, affair, smut, car sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, creampie, slow and sensual (?), regret, and even more sadness.

warnings: cheating on spouse (not cheating on leon and leon not cheating on reader)

word count: 7.5k

the sunset has always brought peace to Leon. it was like a rinse, a reminder that his day was ending and starting for someone else across the globe.

a reminder that the day was fading into night and then would fade into morning then night again. it was a peaceful goodbye, silent and celebrated by some in the world.

the orange, pink, blue, and purple hues brought warmth to his heart. the soft breeze blew up from the cliff and into his hair, his deep brown strands flicking into his eyes and ticking the heights of his cheekbones. his cheeks felt cold to the touch just like his heart.

unlike the beautiful view and sunset, the peaceful breeze, and the silence, the storm inside Leon was the complete opposite. his skin was littered with ugly scars that he tried his best to hide. there was a storm inside of his heart, tornados destroying his peace, and noise in his head he couldn’t clear.

he couldn’t sleep, worried about too many things he couldn’t handle or solve. he was tired but sleep only made him even more tired. the nightmares he’d face every night made it hard for him to stay asleep. he’d shoot up in a cold sweat, slapping his hands around his comforter looking for something … or someone.

nothing can erase the image of that bling, the blinding reflection of a diamond, blinding his eyes from his view of you. it wasn’t any ordinary ring, it was a wedding ring. it hurt, more than any knife or bullet that has painted scars on his body.

he couldn’t believe it. he wanted to deny that even though it’s been so long, that there was still hope. hope for the two of you, that one day time and fate would bring you back together.

but it seems like fate had other plans. someone else caught your eye, maybe he’s better, maybe he’s enough, maybe he can be there for you the ways Leon couldn’t.

all while, Leon has been waiting. he stares into the sunset and it reminds him of the warmth of your skin and the shine of your smile. he is planted onto the ground instead of floating on a high like he was when he was with you. he cries and he doesn’t have you to hug him.

he stirs in his sleep and he doesn’t have you to calm him. he gets home tired and he doesn’t have you to lull him into a peaceful sleep. he’d fall into the crook of your neck, practically putting all his weight on you and you’d accept it with your arms wide open.

you could barely wrap your arms around him but you still tried, running your hand up and down his back, cooing into his ear and placing soft kisses to his tears. it’s funny how two people can go from cuddling skin to skin to absolutely nothing in a day.

even though he’s seen every inch of your body, held you in your most vulnerable states, touched you in places no one else can, spoken to you about the future, he even met your family. all that only for you to treat each other like strangers. he’s nothing but a stranger now. it’s not fair.

he should be the one getting down on one knee and proposing to you. he should’ve been the one to see you clasp your mouth in shock and watch the tears of joy well in your eyes. he should’ve slid that ring onto your finger, he should’ve been the one.

that man that you married doesn’t even know your jewelry of choice. he had no taste. Leon knew you much better than that.

his fist clenched in the pocket of his leather jacket.

it should’ve been him.

he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him, his head whipping around and his muscles tensing.

it was you.

you had just crawled out from your car — parked next to Leons. your facial expression was indiscernible but he could tell you were shocked to see him. though, you weren’t alarmed. he watched as you pursed your lips, “you’re here.”

it was more of a statement rather than a question. the sound of your voice instantly stilled the storm in his mind. suddenly, there were clear skies and sunlight. no more rain and thunder. no more noise. just silence and peace.

there you were, standing there so casually in a sweater and jeans. nothing has changed but at the same time so much was different.

he shrugged, hands still in his pockets.

“i’m here,”

he watched your lips curve into a chuckle, he wasn’t sure if his heart had stopped or if his heart was racing at a rapid pace.

you were just as beautiful as the day he lost you. it left him speechless at how gorgeous you can be, in any setting, with any hairstyle, wearing any clothes — preferably his clothes. he loved it watching you dig through his dresser to pull out any old t-shirt.

it’s all you would wear around the house. his clothes.

your head dipped down as you walked towards him. slow footsteps, dead leaves at your feet crunching as you got closer and closer. he could feel his heart speed up with each step. blood rushing to the tip of his ears and his cheeks, now warm with a small blush.

you slowed your steps down at a tree — your tree. your hand ran over the initials carved into the bark. your heart instantly stung at the sight and memories were quick to play in your head.

it was a late night, both you and Leon had leaned up against this very tree.

you two were enjoying the peace and he was pointing out the constellations in the sky. you weren’t keeping memory of what stars connected to make this instead, you were looking at him. listening to him speak.

you always loved listening to his passions.

there was a certain glimmer in his eyes that always captured your eye, that glimmer that indicated he was happy or excited. if you asked him what his favorite band was, he’d spark up, or even when you’d laugh at his horrible jokes. his eyes would gleam, his smile would grow and his face would no longer look so … tense.

it hurts that you haven’t seen that look in a while.

you smiled, tracing the tip of your finger over the ‘scar’. he had carved your initials into the tree and back then, it was still bright green and fresh. you remember laughing at how he struggled to carve a heart with the tip of his combat knife. it was cliche, something kids would do, but you were kids back then. free and in love.

you let your hand fall back into the pocket of your jeans as you continued walking towards him. he kept his eyes on you the whole way, still as enamored as he was before.

no, he couldn’t be. you were going to be married soon.

“how are you?” he asked while clearing his throat.

“i’m…” you paused looking out into the horizon. meanwhile, he was stuck looking at you. the orange light from the sun warmed up your skin beautifully, a natural glow highlighting the tip of your nose and your cheekbones.

he is reminded too much of the memories you two made when he looks at you.

he loved kissing the tip of your nose and nudging the tip of his into your cheeks. you’d complain at how cold the tip of his nose was and then he’d instantly warm your skin with a kiss.

“i’m alright, how about you?” you finished staring back at him. if you were being honest, you weren’t alright. you were having many many doubts.

did you get engaged too fast? are you even in love? should you have said yes? is he the right man? will the wedding be a disaster? who are you going to invite?

all these thoughts were rushing through your head and you needed peace and quiet. so you went to the only place that could relatively give you that. your spot, the one you shared with your past lover.

“i’m still standing, aren’t i?”

you chuckled, such a Leon thing to say.

“also, uh congrats,” his hand left his pocket and gestured down at your left hand. instantly, the cold weight of your wedding band became apparent to you and a chill ran through you. hiding your hand behind your back, you smiled up at him.

you knew how much it hurt him, you could see the pain and the dullness in his eyes. they weren’t glimmering, he wasn’t happy.

“thanks,” you smiled, timidly.

“when’s the wedding?”

“um, don’t know, still trying to figure that out,” you breathed out, tucking a coil behind your ear. “just like everything else in my life,” you mumbled out the last part but Leon heard it all along with the fact that you were wearing earrings.

‘i uh,’ he was bad at giving presents. he always was. he wasn’t sure if the recipient would like it or not.

‘i got you these but-‘

‘Leon! ‘ he watched your eyes shoot open as he brought the small velvet box into your view.

‘yes?’ he asked with a lift of his brow before flicking open the box. a set of beautiful earrings that were small and childish but they reminded him of you.

‘oh! i love them!’

‘out of all the things i bought you, these are your favorite?’ he tsked, tucking your hair behind your ear as he prepared to put them on for you.

‘i know but they’re cute,’

‘silly goose,’

he’s seen you happy many times before but that was pure joy. the way you jumped into his arms and hugged him with the grip of a gorilla. they were simple earrings from a small shop, but he watched as you grazed your fingers over them in awe.

you asked how much they were and winced back at the price. nothing was too expensive to Leon, as long as it was for you.

his heart dropped at the sight of those earrings, they don’t even match your necklace-

actually, they do.

‘babe, want this?’

‘huh?’ you turned towards him away from speaking with another employee.

‘they match your earrings,’ he tapped at your earlobes causing them to jiggle.

‘leon, it’s expensi-‘ you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips while shaking his head.

‘shush.’

‘you don’t have to.’ he smiled, placing a small kiss to your lips.

‘i want to.’

you’re wearing the matching necklace as well. both contrasting against your ring. one being gold the other being silver. he knew how persistent you were about matching your jewelry to your outfits and to one another.

you never wore gold and silver at the same time. so why?

your hair dropped back down in front of your face with a gust of wind, hiding away your earrings.

Leon steered his attention away from you and back down to his feet, “your hair is longer,” he commented.

you lifted your hand up and tugged at a strand of your hair, “oh yeah, i guess so,”

you haven’t even noticed, funny how time moves so fast but yet so slow for you. it only feels like yesterday that you and Leon were up here, sitting on a blanket and watching the day fade into the night. your hair was much shorter back then.

“it looks good, suits you,”

“thanks,”

the tension was only getting thicker and thicker. this was the first time you two actually talked ever since … god knows when. when you two broke up maybe? it left a bitter taste on your tongue whenever you thought back to it.

it reminded you that you and Leon rarely argued. you two both worked in the same field, you both understood the weight and responsibility it was to be an agent.

but sometimes, when you love someone so much, you tend to ball up a lot of emotions in order not to hurt them.

it was about time that you both would explode.

“why are you here?” you suddenly spoke up, finally cutting the tension down a little.

“i’m thinking of you…” Leon spoke honestly, “of us,”

he watched as you froze, eyebrows curving upwards and the corner of your lips dropping into a frown.

“Leon-“

“i am happy for you,” he was quick to cut you off, raising his voice over yours.

“stop,” you mumbled out, dropping your head to avoid his gaze.

“but why? how…” he paused, collecting his anger. he licked his lips and looked down at you. he watched as you bit your bottom lip and screwed your eyes shut.

“why couldn’t we work?” he asked pointing between the both of you.

“we were hurt, Leon,” you sighed, blinking away a tear before it could fall as you looked up at him. when you met his blue eyes, your heart sank. he was so hurt. he was still hurt. even after years, he is still hurt.

“and hurt people hurt people.”

his sad blue eyes always hurt you more than any wound ever inflicted upon you. seeing him sad could easily bring you to your knees, as it is your biggest weakness. you were convinced that nothing could hurt you more than Leon.

“we could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked, gone to couples therapy,” he took a step closer to you, his body felt weak almost as if he had broken every bone in his body. “we could’ve done something,”

“i did something! i moved on, okay!” you suddenly shouted out at him, causing him to pause. “i found someone who can communicate and i found someone who doesn’t bottle up and hide away, he loves me-“

“does he?” Leon grimaced, you pursed your lips and hid away from him. almost, as if you were ashamed. he continued to slowly approach you as if you were a timid animal. he was gentle and slow.

“see, don’t do that-“

“he doesn’t even know half of you, he doesn’t know you like i do,”

“Leon, stop.”

even if you told him to stop, you weren’t moving away. you two were opposite sides of a magnet, you couldn’t help but attract each other.

the smell of his cologne was dragging you back to him, the smell of his sweat and his shampoo. the sound of his voice. the warmth radiating off of him.

it was something you were so used to. it was home.

he grabbed ahold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. you instantly melted into him, the feeling of his rough palms was always better than anyone else. you could recognize his touch out of a thousand men.

he was never rough, he was always gentle. he used his hands to kill but to also touch and soothe.

“please,” he whispered out. a breeze coming from behind you lifted the scent of your perfume off your skin and into Leon. you always had a signature scent, one that had his mind in a frenzy whenever it hit him.

“i know your dream ring by heart, like the back of my hand.” he huffed out. you couldn’t help but breathe out the air caught in your lungs. he reached up slowly with his other hand, brushing your hair back to reveal your earrings.

“they matched these exact earrings,” his hand traveled down to pick up the pendant of your necklace, “and this necklace.”

as he turned the pendant around, your initials were carved on the back, the same font and style as your initials on the tree. he still remembers going to the jeweler and asking him to engrave those two letters, with a really bad heart around them.

showing him the picture of the initials carved onto the tree. you must treasure her. he had said and Leon replied, more than she’ll ever know.

“why do you still have these?”

“because…they’re my favorite.” you couldn’t lie. out of the plethora of necklaces and earrings, you always reached for this pair. telling your fiance lies; oh, they were a gift from my father.

“because they’re from you and i can’t let them go, i can’t…” you trailed off, looking down at his chapped lips. he was biting on the inside of his cheek, you could tell. you remember telling him so many times not to do so, you didn’t like it when he was anxious.

you would always remind him that you were right there beside him, even if he was all alone.

no words could explain what you were feeling right now. it was a mix of anger and sadness.

but it wasn’t the type of anger that made you want to lash out, it was the type of anger that made you want to cry and walk away. but the sadness was something else, it made you want to curl up into his chest and stay there.

it made you want to go home. but home was where Leon was.

Leon was the first man you’ve ever loved. you wanted him to be your first and your last. you remember looking at him and seeing a peaceful future. you thought, after you two split, that you were going to be able to start over again.

with someone new, something fresh. but your fiance, he wasn’t Leon. he was great in his own way. he was handsome and kind. he was smart and caring. but he wasn’t Leon.

sometimes, his voice would morph into Leons. his laugh would sound like Leon's. his pattern of breathing sounded like Leon's. you couldn’t escape him or maybe you just couldn’t let him go.

“are you happy?”

his question caught you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched up at him, and you were slightly taken aback and sure that he meant something else. though, once you looked into his eyes you knew he was serious. “what?”

“does he make you happy?“

“stop.” you shook your head.

“answer the question,” he gulped down the lump in his throat, searching for something and anything in your eyes to prove that he was wrong.

“yes,” you stammered out. his hopes died then and he nodded slowly, understanding that there was no longer a place for him in your heart anymore. he was happy that you were happy, but he just wished you were happy with him.

he let go of your hand, letting it drop to his side.

“but,” he was taken aback when you reached back for his. you wrapped your hand around his pinky, halting him in his steps. “i’ll never love him like i loved you.”

his eyes flickered up to yours, only to meet the top of your head as your head was tilted downwards towards the ground. you were fighting back tears, your bottom lip shaking.

“he makes me happy but the very thought of you has me overjoyed,” you looked back up at him, a tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and the tip of your nose swelling red.

“he buys me designer clothes but i still wear your sweatpants i stole five years ago i-“ you continued to ramble and Leon just listened, his heart fluttering with every word. he never thought he’d hear those words spill from your pretty lips.

“i still come here almost every day to look at the constellations you showed me,” you sucked in a deep breath, “i drive by the house, our house,”

you let the tears fall freely as his hand slowly intertwined with yours again. he thought you didn’t pay any mind to him, that he was just a lost memory to you, that you couldn’t care less about him but…

“i still have all your gifts, your letters, your trashy collectibles, i…” you paused to suck in another deep breath, your hands shaking in his but you calmed down at the wind blowing his cologne your way. he was here in front of you and finally, you could tell him the truth. the one you’ve wanted to tell him for a long time.

“i wanted it to be you.”

Leon's breath faltered as the words left your mouth. you wanted it to be him, not anyone else.

without another word, he tugged you closer to him. it was a matter of seconds before his lips found yours, enveloping them in his warmth and passion. you reciprocated his kiss instantly. a tear falling down your cheek and meeting the corner of your mouth.

he could taste the salty tear in your kiss, and it reminded him of the days he would spend kissing away your tears after you had a nightmare or cuddling you to his chest as you ruined another shirt with your tears.

his arms wrapped around the small of your back, bringing you closer to him as he pressed deeper into your kiss. he was holding onto you so tight to the point it was hard to breathe and even harder to stay put on two feet.

his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, both eagerly and hungrily. as he did so, you opened your mouth for him. his tongue met yours in a wet frenzy, and he moaned into your mouth as his grip on you only grew stronger.

you took a few steps back, feeling as if you were going to fall. he only followed you in pursuit, up until you had backed up into the tree. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. your kiss was becoming sloppy, with wet lips and fighting tongue.

he gave your thigh a quick two taps and you knew exactly what that meant. you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he smirked against your lips. the fact you remembered, even after all these years, drove him insane.

you let him carry you wherever he wanted, you didn’t care to look or pull away from his lips. you trusted him. if he were to take you away right now, you would go. you’d leave with him and live the life you always wanted…with him.

he pressed you up against his passenger door, unintentionally slamming your body into the metal. the only time Leon was ever rough was during times like this. desperation, hunger, and pure lust. his hand frantically searched for the back door handle.

the minute he got it open, one minute you were pressed against the door and the next you were being thrown into his backseat. you landed on his leather seats with a loud thud, your chest heaving up and down as you stared at him.

his eyes were no longer gentle or sweet, they were filled with lust and something devious. but also something so deep and passionate. he was hungry but he was never greedy.

he slowly crawled into the car as you crawled away. he was out of breath, cheeks flushed and lips swollen pink. you looked up at him as he slowly crawled on top of you.

he hooked his foot into the door handle and he pulled his knee up to shut the door. his eyes stayed on yours, he didn’t want to waste another word or breath. he slid his fingers through your hair, taking a hold of the back of your head.

it suddenly dawned on you what had happened and what you two were doing. he was leaning down to meet your lips once again and you forgot. to you now, this was another late night, you two had just carved your initials onto the tree and he had just got his new car.

he was still blonde and your hair was shorter. he didn’t have his bullet wound and you didn’t have a scar on your hip. you didn’t have this heavy ring on your finger and you were still young.

you leaned up onto your elbows, meeting him halfway with just as much heat. his hand traveled up your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist once again and you followed. just like before, you followed his every instruction.

“god, i missed you,” he breathed out with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he then traveled down your jaw, with slow wet kisses. your whole body shivered as he found that spot just south of your earlobe. you sucked in a shaky breath.

“Leon, please,”

“patience, my love,” he tsked. your legs tightened around his neck, even though he said you needed patience, you needed him. you missed him so much, a part of that was the sex. the sex was fucking amazing. it always was, from the very first time you met until now.

he fucked you in a way you could never comprehend. he knew just the right things that had the breath leaving your body and your heart leaping out of your chest.

as he kissed at your collarbone, his hands were traveling up your sweater. large, hot, and rough. his hands felt like sand paper against your soft skin but god it felt so good. you let out a trembling breath as you ground your hips into the buckle of his belt.

he groaned at the friction, grinding his erection down to meet your hips. he could feel your heartbeat pulsing at your heat through both of his jeans. it was evident that you both were in dire need of each other.

his calloused hands cupped at your bare breast and he groaned into your skin at the feeling of your bare skin. something he hasn’t felt in so long, your warm and soft skin. his cock jumped in his jeans, just the taste of your skin has driven him crazy.

he felt dizzy, he hadn’t breathed or blinked ever since his lips hit yours. he didn’t want to waste a single taste or glance. he circled both of your pebbled nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the small whine that left your mouth.

“no bra, huh?”

“shut up,” you grumbled, beyond sexually frustrated.

he couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged your sweater off of your body. he tossed it somewhere in his front seat and you could see in his eyes that excitement.

he stared at your breast in complete awe, your body was something Leon worshipped. you were his god and he was all but a simple beggar on the street.

he always stared at you as if you were some distinct painting; taking note of every small detail, every mole and every scar. even if he’s seen you a thousand times, he always acts like its the first time he’s laid eyes on you.

“my gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he sighed, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss, “how can you be so perfect?”

your heart fluttered at his words, he never failed to have you utterly speechless.

you trailed your hands over his shoulders and underneath his leather jacket. as you slowly worked his jacket off of him, eyes watching every inch of skin slowly being revealed to you. his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it somewhere into the front of the car.

he then pulled his t-shirt over his head in a quick and rushed manner, throwing it along with the rest of his clothes. he’s grown more muscle and definitely bulked up since you’d last seen him. he’s always been so perfect. his body was nice and toned, decorated with firm and chiseled muscle. he was like a marble statue, the ones in the museum with gorgeous proportions and sharp features.

how can he be so perfect?

he leaned back over you, and rather than your lips in less of a rush of lust, he kissed you slowly and passionately. the feeling of your sensitive nipples brushing up against his warm chest made you shake and let out a small whine.

his hand traveled up your side again, taking your breast into his palm, and squeezing your nipple between his index and middle finger. you shuddered, a small moan leaving your lips as his other hand traveled down to the button of your jeans.

he worked his way around the hem of your jeans to take off both your jeans and your panties at the same time. you reached down for his belt, struggling to unbuckle it whilst also struggling to shimmy your pants off of your hips.

the windows of the car were beginning to fog up, you could barely see the outside, any light shining through was only a smudged blur. it was getting harder to breathe and much harder to think. as you kicked your jeans off, you were quick to help push off his.

you both were as loud as you wanted, the sound of moans mixed with wet kisses and heaving breaths.

“i need you, i need you,” you panted out like a prayer.

he kissed down your chest, bringing your nipple into his mouth while his hand soothed the inside of your legs — sticky with sweat and arousal. you keened under his touch, your thighs shaking and your clit aching.

you clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. in your mind, you were counting down the seconds until he touched you. counting each inch that his fingers traced up your thigh. it was when his fingers slotted between your damp folds you broke.

a desperate sob left your lips and your hips bucked. he moaned into your skin, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. “so wet, all for me,” he breathed out, pressing a small kiss to your breast.

his fingers prodded at your hole, collecting the arousal that dripped when you clenched around nothing. he could tell you were so eagerly waiting for him. eyes gleaming down at him and watching his every move.

his thumb found your clit and he applied the right amount of pressure that had you arching your back with a small wail. the leather of the seats were hot, there was condensations dripping down the windows and it smelt heavy of sex and his cologne.

“tell me, tell me what you need, baby,” he heaved out against your cheek.

“i need you, i want … you,” you replied, out of breath and strength. with that, his inserted one of his fingers, the small stretch was enough to have your jaw hanging open and your legs quivering out of control. nothing and no one has ever had this much of an effect on you, not even fear.

but Leon, he could make you weak with a simple glance.

as you clenched around his finger, Leon found it hard to breathe. you were so warm and dripping all over his palm, he could smell your sex everywhere in the car, it was sweet and god it was good. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to contain his composure but you were driving him wild.

each moan that spilled your lips with every stroke of his finger, he was teetering on the edge of sanity.

he inserted another finger, slowly and carefully. he didn’t want to hurt you, but watching as your eyebrows curled upwards and your head tilt back, he knew he was doing everything but hurting you.

a deep moan spilled from your tongue as he curled his fingers up into your gummy walls. at the same time, his thumb pressed circled against your clit.

“oh god, please-“

“calling on god in a situation like this is pretty sinful of you, baby,” he snickered. you wanted to slap him across the face for such a comment but you could barely process his words, your mind was too focused on the pleasure he was giving you and drooling at the thought of his cock.

he could feel you pulsing around him whilst dripping with need. each curl of his fingers earned him a thristy moan and a squelch. he kissed down your neck, in between the navel of your breasts, and down you stomach. until he reached you abdomen.

he sucked at your skin, hoping to leave a mark where it wasn’t too noticeable. the pressure on your abdomen along with the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you caused your legs to clamp around him.

“fuck!” you whined out, carding your fingers through his hair. one of his hands traveled up underneath your thighs, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. your chest rose up and down with excitement, your heart thrumming up against the cage of your ribcage and sweat trickling down your face.

you took a moment to admire him, kissing at your abdomen while his fingers circled at your swollen clit. he was so pretty. his blue eyes seemed to glow, even if it was dark. the moonlight shining through the foggy windows highlighted the messy strands of his hair and made out every feature of his face.

his jaw, his straight nose and his hooded eyes. he was beautiful, in between your thighs, standing in the sunlight, standing in the moonlight, asleep or awake, he was just beautiful.

his lips traveled up between your thighs, kissing at the fat and nipping at your skin. you jumped at the feeling off his teeth but still you loved it. his tongue ran along the small bite mark before he created another.

“mmm Leon,”

“shhh,” he soothed, nudging his nose into your plump skin.

he removed his fingers from your aching cunt with a small pop and before you could whine in protest, he tapped the side of your thigh because he knew that you were going to whine.

once you shut up, he smirked against your inner thigh and brought up his slicked fingers up to your mouth. you opened your mouth and allowed him to place his fingers onto your tongue.

you swirled your tongue around his digits before sucking your slick off of them. he groaned at the sight of you sucking his fingers, eyelashes batting down at him and face glimmering with sweat.

“so dirty,” he smiled, blowing air onto your clit. you shivered at the sensation.

he kissed down your thigh until his tongue found your clit, flicking at the bud with the tip of his tongue all while looking in your eyes to watch your reaction. you moaned around his fingers, lifting your hips — eager for more.

“patience, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your clit while taking his fingers out from your mouth with a pop.

he slowly crawled over you, leaving kisses in his path. he finally reached your chin, placing a kiss there and then to your lips. he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting his hand run down your side until he guided your thigh back around his torso.

he stroked himself a few times, groaning against your lips. when his tip nudged your clit, you opened your mouth with a moan, allowing him to stroke his tongue along yours.

“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered to you, you gave him a reassuring nod and he shook his head.

“i need your word-“

“yes, yes! i’ll tell you,”

he slowly sank into you, watching your facial expressions keenly. you were overtaken with pleasure, your jaw hanging open at the painful stretch but also a moan boiling in your throat from your ache being relieved.

he reached up for the car window behind you, looking for some grip. he left a hand print on the foggy window as his fingers trailed down to the handle. a groan left his lips and he buried his face into your neck, “fuck, so tight.”

your gummy walls were pulsing around him, making it hard for him to breathe. you were so wet and so warm, making it easy for him to thrust in without any problem. Leon felt like a teenage boy all over again, ready to burst within seconds.

his swollen tip pressed against your cervix and a whine left your lips. your toes curled and you struggled to suck in a breath, “so good,” you managed to squeak out, clawing at his back to leave scars.

he slowly rocked his hips into you, grunting at each small thrust. you wrapped your legs around him, begging him to go deeper even if it hurt. one hand stayed on his back while the other ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair.

“god, you’ve always taken my cock so well,” he whispered out into your ear, with that he began thrusting into you, causing your body to jolt and bounce with every connection of your hips. they were so and deep thrusts.

he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock and he wanted to watch your face contort as his tip hit your g-spot every time.

you arched your back into a moan and he took this chance to wrap his arms underneath you. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, he wanted to feel you because he knew this would be the last time. he knew you’d both regret your actions once the passion has died down but he wanted to live in the moment. he didn’t want to think of consenquences after this.

he just needed to feel you one last time.

“faster,” you begged, kissing the lobe of his ear. chills ran down his spine at the feeling of your hot breath and your dragged out words. he obeyed without question, pounding into you at a pace that has you sobbing. the car shook underneath you guys and both of you were sure any hikers could hear and guess what was going on inside his tinted jeep.

“this pussy’s so good, fuck,” he seethed through his teeth, opening his mouth to bite down onto your collarbone.

“mm fuck,” you whined out, tossing your head back and clenching your legs around him tighter. you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, with every thrust there was a wave sent through you. you could feel him in your bones. the tension was only getting tighter, your limbs were on fire but you liked the burn.

you tugged him away from sucking at your breats and your chest, guiding his lips to yours in a rushed manor. you wanted to taste him. his teeth clashes against yours but it wasn’t long until you both found a rhythm.

he moaned into your mouth, ignoring the ache in his chest from the amount of air. you were his air. he could breathe when he was around you, he felt light. you were his fix. you were his drug. you were his lifeline.

you controlled whether his heart beat or stop. you controlled whether he was happy or sad. you controlled his mind, body, and soul. you had complete control over him and you just didn’t know it.

you parted from his lips, a string of saliva snapping back onto your chin. “it’s too much,” you sobbed. you watched the inner corner of his lips twitch, almost as if he was about to smile. he brought your legs up over his shoulder, positioning you the way he wanted that way he cold fuck into you deeper.

this new angle was enough to put you on the egde, a tear slipped past your eyes and your pupils had rolled back into your skull.

“you can take it,” he heaved out, as he continued to piston into you. your brain was mush, you couldn’t speak or reply back to him. the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and the sound of his voice.

“Leon,” you stammered out. you were clenching around him tightly, your legs shaking and your moans spilling out nonstop. he knew you were close, he could tell from the look on your face. completely fucked out of your mind, not a single thought processing.

“my beautiful girl,” he reached down for your clit, “come for me,”

he kissed another tear slipping down into your hairline as you whined beneath him. your breath was caught in your throat and you could see stars waltzing behind your eyes, you gushed around his cock while moaning out his name.

he gripped the leather by your head, every taut muscle in his body relaxing as he spilled his hot seed into you. he pressed his tip deep to your cervix, hoping you’d feel every hot rope he gave you. he kissed at your cheeks slowly, slowly rolling his hips into you as you both came down from your highs.

he was buried in the crook of your neck, heaving out deep breaths and in between them he said, “i love you.”

your heart sunk. you could physically feel it. your blood ran cold and there was a pain in your chest.

“i, i have to go,” you could feel his eyebrows scrunch against your shoulder as you sat up from underneath him. you hurriedly reached for your clothes as your sinuses began to sting and tears welled up in your eyes. you were so so stupid.

how could you have done this? how could you sleep with another man when your wedding is in mere months? not just any man, but your ex.

you struggled to slide on your panties, you skin still sticky with sweat and cum.

Leon let his head drop as he listened to you struggle and cry. he reached out for you, “honey, wait-“

“no!” you smacked him away, turning to face towards him with tears in your eyes. “i’m sorry, we should’ve never done this, i’m so sorry,” you broke down and before you knew it he was scooping you back into his arms.

you wanted to push him away but you had no strength, physically and mentally. “i should’ve never came here and-“

“shhh,” he soothed the back of your head, coaxing you into laying your head onto his shoulder.

“it’s my fault for still-” you paused suddenly. Leons breath hitched and his body went still.

“still what?”

“i’m sorry, Leon.”

you pulled away from him, refusing to look him in the eyes. it hurt too much to face him. he doesn’t know how much power he has over you. you couldn’t hide secrets or say no. you couldn’t lie to him. it breaks you to lie to him.

it hurts that you still love him so much.

you reached for your sweater in the passenger seat and throwing it on.

“answer me,” his voice cracked and with that your heart shattered. you couldn’t turn around and see him crying. you just can’t. the hem of the sweatshirt sat on your tits as you put on your jeans. your throat was aching and you were trying not to cry. you felt like a child.

“do you still love me?” he reached for your hand, stopping you from reaching for the door. you turned to face him, your eyes now puffy with tears and your lip trembling. you tried so hard not to let the tears fall but it was too late. he watched as you swallowed back a cry and let your hand fall from his.

“goodbye, Leon.”

those were the same words you spoke to him when your relationship ended years ago. it was like slow motion, his brain was catching the final moments of you. it was so odd seeing your back profile, even if he’s seen it so many times, it was odd to see it when you were leaving him.

you left Leon there in your once shared apartment.

now you leave him in a foggy car that smells just like you.

as the door opened, he was hit with the fresh night air, cooling the sweat on his body. the smell of fresh pine hit him along with the smell of your perfume. there were sounds of croaking frogs, trees dancing in the wind, crickets, and your choked back sobs.

then the car door shut. there was silence all around him. he was stuck watching your foggy figure fade away, watching you get into your car and drive off without looking back at him once. he remained frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

all he could do was let a single tears run down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. he leaned back into his own car seat, looking up at the roof with a heavy sigh.

here comes the storm, once again.

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @puppyina @prettyntxhee

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shroomi1e · 1 year

Text

❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

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eyelessfaces · 3 months

Text

about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time.

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his.

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you.

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set.

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you.

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary.

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere.

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything.

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room.

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be.

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made.

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear.

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING!!!!

people who wanted to be tagged<3: @beezusvreeland @steven-grants-world @hammerhead96 @ominoose @clemdango04 @campingwiththecharmings @unear7hly

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dcxdpdabbles · 21 days

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Love you writing, though i don't have a favorite Alfred's boy is in my current list to reread. I had an idea that i saw about Dick and his taste in partners and Jazz fits the type competent red heads. Anyway my prompt is Dick gathering his exes (Wally, Babs, and Kori) to meet help him woo his current crush Jazz Fenton. From there it could btanch off many different ways like Jazz showing off Wack Fenton shenanigans or maybe like midway he sees one of his brothers making more progress with their crush on Danny. Or adding a twist of a deaged Dani or Danny.

"Don't make it obvious, but she just walked in," Dick whispers to his friends. However, Babs is the only one who actually listens since both Wally and Kori nearly break their necks by how fast they turn around.

A woman with long, fiery hair walks in with an adorable pair of five-year-old twins. She again carries the books the teens had borrowed and makes a beeline for the return box.

Like clockwork, once the books are returned to the metal box, the twins tug her toward the astronomy section, babbling about star facts in perfect sync.

Her hair bounces with each step, swinging behind her like a waterfall made of sunsets.

It was her long smooth hair that had first captured Dick's attention (he has a type sue him) when the small family had first started appearing at Gotham's public library. He had been bringing Babs some lunch that day, hidden behind the counter so Babs' boss wouldn't see him, and had been in prime position to watch one of the twins flout up to reach a book on the top shelf.

He was intrigued by the boy's apparent meta abilities, but what really surprised him was how easily he used his powers. Maybe it was due to his young age or how the woman didn't discourage his powers.

She reminded him to use "Indoor flying" in the same tone he heard parents tell their kids to use their "indoor voice". Metas weren't as rare as people wanted them to be but to see someone so casual about them was.

It was honestly uplifting to see a family so open about it. The little girl with her also seems to be a meta, for not even minutes later, she phases through an aisle instead of walking around, and the woman doesn't even bat an eye.

She only sticks her hand out the aisle to tell the little girl to not walk away from the science fiction section.

Dick hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, even when she made the little girl blow her nose using tissue from her purse or when she had started lecturing the children for running around in a foreign language.

Since then, he has returned to visit Babs every Thursday at two. The woman would bring the twins every week at the same time and even thought Dick had attempted to walk over to her, it seemed as if the universe it self got in the way.

She would get a call. The kids would need the bathroom. She began reading to the children, or they would rush in and out. He didn't want to come off as creepy, so he didn't follow her around, only watching her when she wandered back into sight.

To avoid being a creep, he also refrained from asking Babs any information about her. He wanted to introduce himself to the Libary goddess himself.

He found himself daydreaming of her. Fantastic conversations and dates. Could even picture introducing her to Bruce and the others. It wasn't long before he let it slip about his fast-developing crush to his friends- and exes- who were excited to see the first civilian he's ever been interested in.

Walley and Kori had strong-armed him into bringing them along this week, insisting they could help him speak to her. It's not that Dick couldn't. It's been so long since he genuinely wanted to flirt with a civilian.

He long ago mastered the art of flirting, but it was to make a watered-down version of Brucie Wayne. It was nothing but a mask to keep his second life a secret. He was worried he had gotten too used to dating heroes and would scare her off before they could really be something.

"I said don't make it obvious!" He hisses as Babs chuckles. She is typing away on her laptop, not bothering to raise her eyes as she waves her hand.

"Relax, they aren't even looking at us."

"She's gorgeous!" Kori gasps.

"She's a redhead," Wally observes with a smirk. "Why am I not surprised? Who are the little ones?"

"Her younger siblings," Babs answers, surprising Dick. He had thought she was their mother by the way she behaved. He had been a bit worried she was married or already had a boyfriend, but if she had been a single mother, he would be happy and willing to step in as a father. "The whole family just moved to Gotham. Their parents are opening a new business here I think."

"What kind of business?" he asks, his eyes tracing the way her face lights up with a laugh. He can't hear what the little boy says, but it must have been humorous since she is chuckling for a while with him.

His heart flutters a little. He's never seen a smile so perfect and genuine before.

"Ecto-research and Ecto-defenses," Babs says with a straight face.

"What is that?" Kori asks, leaning on the counter to read over Bab's shoulder. Technically she shouldn't be sitting on the counter like this, nor should Dick or Wally be on the other side with Babs, but her boss was out for the day.

And Bruce owned the building.

"I'm not sure. I've been trying to look into it since Jazz told me about it on Monday." Babs replies, clicking between a webpage titled Fenton Works and Ectobeings. "It's not that they hidden the information, but it's a bit out there. The term ghost appears a lot, so I'm assuming they are ghost hunters and researchers."

"A daughter of ghost hunters.....almost as odd as a son of circus performers." Wally nudges Dick with his elbow, making the other smile, even if he blushes a little when the little girl snaps her gaze at them. "You have a change, Wonder Boy!"

"Please don't call me that. People are going to think I'm associated with Wonder Woman."

"Please, as if Wonder Woman would waste her time on you," Wally laughs, then leans closer. "I bet you could ask her about the family business over dinner."

"That would be a great opener," Kori agrees. "From my personal experience, men become much more attractive if they show interest in my family business."

"Your family business was being royal warlords," Babs tells her, which makes Kori stand up with pride.

"We had a long history of battle!"

Dick opens his mouth to answer, only to have a young voice cut him off. "You're royalty, too?"

In shock, he glances down, not realizing the little girl had sneaked up on them. She blinks large blue eyes at him with an innocent expression that only children this young can make. She is holding a book about the fictional Prince Dorathea and her tales of the Dragon necklace.

It was a new young adult novel by an anonymous author, taking the fantasy genre by storm. Dick should know since he was obsessed with reading the series too.

"I am. Princess Kori, heir to the throne." Kori tells her with a smile. She had never been that worried about her secret identity even though she appeared human right now- she was wearing a glamor necklace that Zatanna had whipped up for her so she could walk around like a regular person. She then winks, "Don't tell the government."

The little girl nods seriously as if she would take the secret to the grave. She's adorable. "I won't. I'm hiding from them too."

"Why's that?"

"I'm a princess." She says, lowering her voice into a stage whisper. Dick's heart melts. "My brother's the king."

"Danielle Fenton, what did I say about wandering around?" The goddess herself demands, striding over to them. Floating behind her is the little boy staring at the adults with wide, gleeful eyes.

Instead of becoming scared of a scolding like most children, Danielle throws a fist into the air. "I shall not be contained!"

The woman snorts. "I'll ground you."

"Let's not be too hasty," Danielle answers quickly as the little boy starts laughing, slowly turning in the air with his laughter. Dick watches, intrigued. It almost seems as if he was lying in an invisible hammock.

The redhead rolls her eyes, turning her gaze to the rest of the adults with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about her."

"No worries, Jazz. Danielle wasn't a bother, but you should listen to your sister and not walk around alone." The last part is directed at the little girl who starts to float upwards. "By the way, these are my friends. Wally, Kori, and Dick."

"Nice to meet you all." Jazz replies, and Dick can only offer her a wave as his tongue seems to have become lead. What is wrong with him?! "I'm Jasmine Fenton but call me Jazz. This is Danny and Danielle. Can we check these books out?"

"Sure. Guys, move out of the way for a bit." As Babs helps her, Wally yanks Dick to the side.

"Dude, are you okay?"

" I think I'm in love."

"Oh no." Says Kori with wide eyes. "We lost him.

None of the three notices the glowing blue eyes of a flouting little boy watching their huddle, nor do they notice the immense power resting behind such a youthful face.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The one with Sunset hair #Part 1 #Night Birds #Dick/Jazz #The Fentons all fleed Amity Park together once Danny's secret was outed #Issues arose when Danny and Dani were deage #Clockwork hid the whole family in a different reality #Now they just living like they in a slice of life isekai #Dick develops a school boy crush on Jazz and panics #Dick's council of Exes have spoken #Ghost King Danny

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harunayuuka2060 · 5 months

Text

Jamil: I appreciate your assistance earlier. Without you, we wouldn't have caught the ones who wanted to poison Kalim.

MC: I only provided an immediate solution.

Jamil: But still, *chuckles* returning the poison to its owner is still funny.

Jamil: Especially when they started coughing uncontrollably- *chuckles again*

MC: ...

MC: I see you enjoy this kind of thing, Jamil.

Jamil: Oh. Not at all. I might've gotten used to it since we have to be vigilant every time.

MC: Hm. I understand you on that.

Jamil: Ah, by the way, I received a letter from Leona.

Jamil: He's looking for someone.

Jamil: That's you, isn't it?

MC: Did you tell him that I'm here? *looks at him sternly but in a calm manner*

Jamil: No. He claimed that he was looking for his spouse.

Jamil: *smug face* But you got divorced, so that wouldn't count. Would it?

MC: Ah, It seems I made the right decision working here.

Leona: That lying snake-

Ruggie: Did you really need to ask him? You could just go there to confirm yourself.

Leona: ...

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: What? You can't do that?

Leona: They would think I'm still after them.

Ruggie: Aren't you?

Leona: *frowns*

Ruggie: Okay. You asked me to investigate their situation here in Sunset Savannah and their family estate.

Ruggie: And you can't lie to me, Leona. After finding out the whole truth, you want to get back together.

Ruggie: Because there might be a possibility that they have your child and you still have feelings for them!

Leona: ...

Leona: You-

Leona: ...

Leona: Them being a transcendental hasn't been confirmed yet.

Ruggie: That's what their father said! They don't reproduce like any normal people would!

Ruggie: MC themselves were born from their mother's thoughts!

Ruggie: What evidence do you still need?!

Leona: ...

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Sorry. I was just exhausted.

MC: ...

MC: What are all these for, my lord?

Kalim: *beams* Baby clothes!

MC: ...

MC: Thank you. The baby appreciates them.

Kalim: Hm?

Kalim: Oh! Really? How would you know? *looking at their flat stomach*

MC: ...

MC: *touches the part of their chest where their heart is*

MC: The baby is here.

Kalim: Wha- How?!

Kalim: Don't tell me you have to rip your chest open?!

MC: Not at all. When it's time for me to release it, it will be transparent at first and then it will take form in a few minutes.

Kalim: Oh... Can I watch when that happens?

MC: I will inform you. Don't worry.

Kalim: *smiles* Okay!

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst jamil #twst kalim #twst ruggie #twst divorced au

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babygorewhore · 6 months

Text

His Little Angel

After watching your favorite Only fans member, one who wears a Ghostface mask, you wish you could see him in real life. When you attend Midsummer, you’re shocked at who’s the owner of that voice. Rafe Cameron.

Moodboard

Disclaimer: Girl in photo is just for aesthetic! I don’t look like that myself so it’s okay lol

Warnings! Female and male masterbation! Porn! Mask kink! Degrading! Blow Job!! No plot. Very little proof reading

Your clit was swollen and sore as your vibrator relentlessly moved , your eyes squeezed shut. Another night on only fans, moaning loud enough that you almost scared yourself and your spine curled on the bed.

“My pretty little angel, coming on my cock? Your pretty pussy is so soft, I can’t get enough.” His voice was addictive. Even if it was just from your phone.

After the third time, you finally pulled it away and panted. Your naked sweaty body underneath your cool room brought you to clean yourself up with a discarded shirt. You liked it messy but you didn’t want it completely running down your legs.

Ghostface just had that effect on you. He was your favorite Only fans star.

You had subscribed last month, paying the maximum amount of money to get the most exclusive content. Personal messages and his own nickname for you. Little Angel or Angel. Which was the ironic purpose because you were anything but. Every night spreading your legs eagerly to a man in a mask. He wore others but this one was your favorite. He wouldn’t reveal his face.

But he was tall, muscular with strong, long fingers and a thick, pulsing cock he finished stroking and cum spilled from the tip at the end of the video.

God, you wanted to blow him. Choke on whatever he gave you with no complaints. His voice was raspy and almost pleading at times.

But he was dominant. Everything you did was to his will.

You did exchange one picture with him. One where you were wearing your prettiest bra and panties after you came. Your cheeks were red, hair messy and your eyes glassy. You needed him to see the effect he had on you.

“Pretty little angel. Fucked out for me. You’re so fucking hot and so wet.” His message was always teasing. Ending just when you needed them to reach their peak. He did it on purpose.

You had a fantasy. Him breaking into your house with the mask, tying you to the bed and ripping off the mask before he buried his face in your cunt. The very idea caused your pussy to quiver. You watched another video and came again

Midsummer was the last thing you wanted to participate in. Even though you were technically a Kook, you hated the snobby assholes who looked down at anyone beneath them. Your parents weren’t like that, even when they worked closely with the worst of them.

The Cameron’s. The very name of the family made you want to gag. Okay, you hadn’t met them but you heard horror stories from Kiera, a girl you used to babysit as a teenager when she was in middle school, that they were evil. Especially the oldest. Rafe. He was a bully, stuck up and always got what he wanted. Including the company when Ward died on a tragic suicide on his own boat.

You wore a long, slick dress with high heels and a flower crown. Your hair spilling around your face and sweat proof makeup.

You felt pretty even though you dread seeing all these people. They knew you as a little girl, running around and following your rich parents. But you were so much more than that, especially as an adult.

Kiera waved at you and you returned it with a smile. The twinkling lights, gentle music and sunset was a beautiful picture as the dance floor filled. But your mind thought about Ghostface. What was he doing right now? Working his regular job? Planning more content? For you? Your cheeks warmed with memories. How dirty was that? Thinking about fucking a man in a mask while sweet couples swayed on the wood floor in front of you?

A few men offered to dance and you accepted. Awkwardly staring at their faces as they moved their hands too low on your waist but it was the most action you got in months other than your toys.

You were bored now. You had a fake smile, stood next to your parents for an hour before you decided to change scenery.

The inside of the house wasn’t as crowded but people still talked while holding drinks in clear glasses. A variety of ages were there, especially with staff. You recognized Topper, he used to be close with the Cameron’s before their daughter stayed with the Pouges. But currently he and a black male were talking shit to a blonde boy carrying a tray of drinks.

Frowning, you went to follow them to stop the scene when your father called you over, you didn’t know they came in.

“Sweetheart, I want you to meet someone!” Turning, your eyes widened.

Rafe Cameron, who was wearing a blue tux gave you an alluring dark look and smile. His hair was slicked back, exposing his perfect bone structure and pink lips. He loomed over you and even your dad with his height as you stood in the circle.

“Hi,” You clipped and stuck out your hand. His large hand was warm and strong as he shook yours.

“Rafe was just telling us how nice it was to finally see you after hearing so much, weren’t you?” Your mothers intentions were obvious as you tried not to roll your eyes. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also an asshole.

“You’re as pretty as an angel.”

You stumbled back, slipping onto the floor, legs bent as you fell on the floor.

“Oh god! Baby, are you okay?” Your dad gasped.

Oh my god. His voice.

The nickname??

This couldn’t be real. This could not happen. Rafe was faster and wrapped his arm around your waist, bending down to lift you to your feet. He brought you close, almost chest to chest as his hand settled on your hip. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard and started stuttering. “Um-I’m okay I-uh you-“ You snapped your mouth shut as he gave you a smirk. Oh, he knew you alright. You sent him a fucking picture after you touched yourself to his porn and now he was holding you up.

Tightly.

“Here, I’ll take her to make sure she’s alright.” Rafe told your parents, his brows pulled together in concern-real or not as your mother nodded.

“Oh you’re such a gentleman,” She gave you a subtle pinch on your arm as his arm tightened around your body.

You expected him to just walk you to the nearest room but instead he picked you up bridal style, your feet flying as he secured you easily.

Was this really happening? Rafe Cameron was Ghostface on Only fans and now he was carrying you down a hallway where there wasn’t anyone to be found.

“My little angel, acting like such a sweet girl. No one knows how much of a slut you actually are.” He popped open a door, exposing an empty room with a table and chairs after whispering in your ear, his teeth gently grazing the skin.

You breathed sharply as he set you down, pushing your legs apart with his knee. “I’ve been dying to finally fuck this mouth that’s always moaning for me,” He growled. “This time without that fucking mask.”

“Rafe-“ You began but he shoved two fingers in your mouth to the back of your throat. His warm breath fanning your face as spit pooled from your mouth.

You gagged and rolled your head back. He’d made himself spill with this exact hand. He circled them slowly. “I’ve been wondering how that sounded from you.”

Without warning he grabbed a fist full of your hair and forced you from the table onto your knees. “And now, my angel is going to be my fucking whore.” He growled and tapped your cheek after pulling out his digits.

“Open that filthy mouth and do exactly what you’re made for.”

Your polished nails frantically moved to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his suit pants. His black boxers made him look like a model on a men’s magazine as his hard dick leaked precum as you pulled them down. It hung heavily in front of you as your cunt tightened around nothing.

Rafe took a hold of his cock and slapped your cheek with it. “Stick out your tongue,” He ordered and you obeyed. You wanted to please him. Be used by him and his commands were so fucking hot you could have came in your panties just from that.

Hearing his voice again stirred a raging fire inside you as you opened your mouth and sucked him like a lollipop. You pulled back to sloppily lick the sides, a pool of spit on your neck as your lips took him in. Rafes fingers in your hair pulled so tight more tears streamed down your face and stained your cheeks with makeup.

He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat as he started fucking your face. “Such a fucking little slut. Not an angel anymore, huh? A cock sucking bitch.” His degradation only turned you on more as you slurped and took it.

“I’m always taking care of you, now you get to return the fucking favor.” Rafe grunted and pulled even harder. “I’m gonna cum down your slutty throat.”

True to his word, he spilled into and all over your mouth. When he finally let you go, you coughed and wiped your lips. Lipstick was all over the back of your hand. Rafe took out his phone as he adjusted himself back into his pants. A flash clicked and you leaned back, doe eyes wide.

“Now, I have my own little picture when I jerk off.” He gave you a wink and bent down, “And don't wipe your face. Everyone is gonna know exactly who’s cock you’ve sucked.”

Tagging @xxhellfirebunnyxx @scene-and-dandylover @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @imyourdaninow @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @chrrymunson

If I didn’t tag someone forgot.

#rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron one shot #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks #outer banks fic #Rafe Cameron fic

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calumfmu · 2 months

Note

i really love your fics! could i request steve x f’girl reader? i love flipping tropes on their heads!

Hiiii!! Thank you so much <3 Sorry that this took so long, I'm getting out of a writer's rut, but this definitely helped me. I hope that this sufficed. I wasn't sure how smutty you wanted it, so I kinda met you in the middle. Steve x Fuckgirl!Reader 18+ mdni; smut-ish, heavy petting, making out, premature orgasm (lol quick Steve), allusions to sex, 4.4k+ words (Jesus h Christ, Im trying I swear)

It was late in Hawkins when you stumbled into the Family Video, sunset spreading golden orange and yellows across the sky. An overhead bell rang above you, signaling your arrival to the near empty store.

“Welcome in,” you heard a far away, meek voice say to you, you looked up to see a brunette girl, hair cut short and over sized vest hanging over her small frame. You raised your eyebrows in a greeting to her, hand waving slightly in her direction. Noticing how she blushed in response and quickly ducked her head, you laughed to yourself, used to those type of reactions from people—women and men alike.

You recognized her from school, a few years younger than you, was in band or something of the sort. Not really your crowd to hang with, but someone you briefly remembered from that time. She ran over to say something to another worker a few feet away from the counter, stumbling over her feet in the process.

Searching through horror films, you were bent at the waist, blue denims squeezing your hips in all the right places. Running your fingers over the VHS cases, you were startled by a hip crashing into the shelf next to you. The man to which it belonged to faked his cool, leaning against the shelf with one elbow, and his other hand running through his hair, smoothing it back into place.

Giving him a once-over with a raised eyebrow, you stood to your full height. He smiled at you, brown puppy dog eyes crinkling behind the size of the grin.

“Welcome to Family Video,” he rushed, sticking a hand out for you to shake. You eyed the hand briefly, smile toying at the corners of your mouth as you reached up to meet it.

“I think she’s got you beat, big boy,” you laughed, nodding your head over to the brunette who leaned over the counter to watch your interaction. Upon noticing you look at her, she turned around quickly, pressing random buttons on the cash register as if she hadn’t been staring.

The man turned to look at her, red blush covering his cheeks. “We just like to give all of our customers equal satisfaction, if you know what I mean.”

You gave him a face, wincing at the attempt of flirting he tried giving you. Turning back to the tapes, you were set on ignoring him, not really interested in his attempt for… whatever this was. He didn’t let up, choosing to straighten up and adjust his collar, fixing his sleeves as you found sudden interest in a description of a movie.

He cleared his throat, “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

His hand shot out again for you to shake, dropping it once he realized he had already done that. The girl’s laughter in the background urged some of your own, this man—Steve—being the worst at flirting you had ever seen in your life.

Clearing his throat, his voice was shaky as he said, “What can I help you find today?”

You briefly looked at him, noticing the confidence he had that flowed off of him. It was in the wrong place though, his flirting, if you could call it that, was all terribly wrong, nothing of the sort that you would expect from someone with his looks. There was something about him though, something that made him seem like he knew what he was doing even if his efforts were being missed. You could tell he had some sort of game, it all being lost on you.

“Think I’m managing just fine here.”

He chewed at the inside of his lip, seemingly wondering how to get around the rejection you gave him, short answers not giving him any room to continue. You grabbed a different movie off the shelf, satisfied with it as you turned to move towards the counter. He blocked your path, chest broad as his arms were crossed over it.

You ran your eyes over his chest, admiring the way the material stretched taut over muscle, showing off biceps you would love to imagine wrapped around you. Smirking up at him, you indulged in the feeling, ready to have some fun with the nervous boy stood in front of you.

“I can give you a few suggestions, hon.” The nickname had you staring up at him, eyebrows shooting up yet again. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really, I don’t think someone like you should be watching that alone.”

You pushed past him, fingers at your side lingering at his waist as you walked up to the counter to rent out. The girl—Robin, her name tag read—moved to help you, only to get knocked out of the way by Steve, his hurried attempt to make it around. Squinting your eyes at him, you shook your head, humour finding you as you realized his attempts wouldn’t stop.

“Watch it, shithead,” she grumbled, bumping him with her shoulder as she replaced him on the floor.

“Good thing I’m not watching it alone,” you smiled up at him, placing an ID on the counter for him to run your information. He said your name out loud, eyebrows wiggling at the mention of it. Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I’ve got a date with Billy Hargrove.”

Your thumb pointed outside, a blue Camaro parked outside the store that he noticed for the first time. Its loud engine could be heard from inside the store, rumbling so deeply you could feel it if you stopped long enough. His face fell, fingers faltering at the computer as he looked over at you.

“Billy? Seriously?”

You giggled, leaning across the counter as you decided to play into the game he was attempting—yet failing so miserably at. You smirked as his eyes dipped at your chest, noticing the way your low scooped top exposed more than it should’ve of. He tried to cover it up, clearing his throat as he made his return to the computer.

“Oh shit, did you have a date with him too?”

The look he gave you was incredulous, eyes deadpan as they cut to you.

“I’m just saying… not the best option,” he pointed to the tape in front of you, “to watch on a date with Hawkin’s worst option.”

You leaned even further, voice dropping lower. “Yeah, I don’t think the plan is to exactly… watch the movie.”

His face flushed as he turned to look at you, sliding the ID back over to you. Your eyes were hungry as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, audible gulp filling the room. This was your favorite part about being the town’s “most eligible bachelorette”, watching people crumble around you even when you did nothing.

“Well, what are you doing after?” He leaned into your space, face closer to yours as he tried mustering up the confidence he once had. “Bet I could show you a better time than that Hargrove guy.”

A small tapping sound filled the tense air as your fingers moved across the counter, imitating a walking motion with your index and middle. You trailed them up to Steve, ‘walking’ them up his body until you met the junction of his jaw, hand reaching out to lightly rub him on the cheek.

Your fingers traced the light dusting of stubble, feeling the prick of the hairs underneath your fingertips. His eyes were focused on you as you touched him, eyes low with a glimmer behind them.

“Is that so, Steve Harrington?” You pouted at him, his eyes clouding over as your hand ran across his cheek to trial to his hair. The sound of his name on your lips had him gaping, teeth running across the expanse of his bottom lip. Giving his hair a light tug, he leaned into it, mouth dropping as you removed it, placing it back onto the counter.

You leaned in closer to his face, inches away from his mouth as he subconsciously moved closer to you as well. From the close proximity, you could feel his breath on your lips, the scent of spearmint hitting you. His eyes remained low, fixated on your mouth.

Right as he leaned in to close the distance, you moved away. “Maybe next week I could pencil you in, I’ve got another date at 10. Busy gal.”

You gave him the fakest smile you could manage, grabbing the tape before turning on your heel. Making your way to the door, you turned around once more, noticing the way his eyes were glued to your hips.

“I’ll be back Friday,” you said, his eyes shooting up to yours. He seemed stuck in a trance, mouth parted into an ‘o’ as he stared at you, deep red flushed across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. That Robin girl stood in the distance, her own look of shock present on her face as she apparently had been watching the entire interaction. “You know, return policy and all.”

You spun around, swinging the door open as you exited. Robin’s voice was the last you heard in the store, ‘The Scoops legacy continues.’ Billy’s car revved at you, engine blaring through as you swung your body inside.

“Took long enough, sweetheart?” His sunglasses were low on his nose as he looked over them at you. You fought the eye roll you wanted to give him, the smacks he gave to his gum overwhelming you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, coy smile on your lips as you reached a hand to place on his thigh. His foot hit the gas again, revving the vehicle as you trailed your fingers over his groin. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

The speed in which he pulled out of the parking lot was nearly comical, your head slamming back into the head rear as tires screeched on black asphalt. Thoughts of the Harrington boy filled your mind as your plans with Billy became closer to reality, he wasn’t supposed to be in there—wasn’t supposed to be clouding your judgement especially when your entire MO was not to let anything linger.

The doorbell rang as you were in the middle of throwing a shirt on over your exposed chest, the final bit of credits rolling from the horror movie you picked out. Irritation pricked at the back of your neck, figuring it was Billy, returning due to forgetting something or to finish the job.

Marching over to the front door, you prepared to yell at the blond. You had kicked him out of your place, frustrated as he had a few too many to get it up. He had been pushing at you for weeks, practically begging to get a date with you, and the second he got one, it ended like this. It was disappointing to say the least, yet what was to be expected every now and then from the pick of Hawkins.

Throwing the door open, you hissed, “What do you want, Bill—oh.”

A pleasant surprise. It was Steve, red flowers in one hand and a VHS tape in the other. He looked nervous yet hopeful, tight blue jeans and a crisp polo, covered by a black jacket. Tilting your head, you looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to be at your doorstep. Let alone, not knowing how he even got your address in the first place.

“So, this is the right place,” he beamed, stepping through the front door as you moved to the side, too shocked to even question it.

You closed the front door, following him into the living room as he turned to give you the flowers. You accepted them, looking down at them in shock as he became suddenly nervous, teeth returning to his bottom lip to chew.

Your mouth sputtered briefly, “What is—how did you—Steve, what are you doing here?”

He clasped his hands in front of himself, teetering on his feet as he nervously gazed at you. You felt slightly exposed, a foreign feeling, as you stood there in a plain white t-shirt and pajama bottoms. You crossed your hands at your chest, pushing down the feeling as he stood in front of you. Straightening your posture, your eyebrow arched at him, throat clearing away the thought of him looking so good in front of you.

“Well, you said you were hanging out with Billy to watch, y’know—“ his thumb pointed to the TV, his mouth quirking at the corners awkwardly, “and that’s only like an hour, 30. Then, you said you had a date at 10, leaving you a few hours to, uhh, hang or… something. Busy gal, ya know?”

The repeated words from earlier had you blushing this time, a smile crossing your face as he made himself comfortable. You tried to immediately get rid of it, a step out of character from your usual when it came to boys. His face flushed as he held up the tape he was holding: Fast Times at Ridgemont High. You stared at it and him, eyes jumping back and forth.

“Fast Times. Short runtime. Perfect duo, if you ask me,” he smiled, hair falling into his face as he stepped a bit closer to you. You laughed at him, feeling too shocked to even argue with him.

You led him into the living room, taking the tape into his hands before setting it up in the player. He fell onto the couch with a sigh, leg shaking nervously as he looked around the living room. You made your way over to him, sitting next to him as he looked at you, smile wider than ever.

“How did you know where I lived?” The TV was loud as it started, the two of you jumping at it. The two of you laughed as you realized you had ended up a bit closer to him, hand resting on his thigh. Removing it, you settled back into the couch, clearing your throat as you tried to remain cool. You didn’t like this, how Steve made you nervous despite not doing anything. That was supposed to be your role, he was supposed to be the one falling to your feet.

“What do you think we need your ID for over at the store?”

Shaking your head, you took a good look at him, noticing the way the man had moles dotted around his face, marking him in perfect places. In this moment, you did recognize who he was, him being a year below you when you used to run Hawkins High. He had stepped up to bat by the time you hit your junior year, rumors of him running rampant around the school. Based on this version of him that stood in front of you, you couldn’t tell what had happened to him—where his confidence and irresistible charm had gone.

“You’re so—“

“Smart?” He finished for you, blushing. “Nah, I can’t take credit for that. It’s all Robin, she’s, like, my wing-woman at this point.”

As the movie started, he began to relax, settling into the couch, and his palms rubbed the cloth over his knees, legs parted. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, yet body turned to him, engaged in conversation that allowed you to get to know the man in front of you. The movie was a blur in the background, the two of you facing each other, inches away with hands just shy of touching each other.

The landline rang, pulling you out of the conversation, Steve’s gaze lingering on you for a second too long as you contemplated picking it up.

“You’re not going to get that?” The drop in his voice had you distracted, mind wanting to hear just how low it could get.

“Uhhh… I’m just going to let it go,” you answered, leaning into him. The phone went silent, his eyes briefly darting to it before returning to you. You were much closer to him now, your tongue licking at the corner of your mouth. “Can I try something, Steve?”

“Uh huh,” he whispered, hand shooting up to place on your cheek as you leaned in. Your lips met, two pairs of eyes fluttering shut. He was soft, lips fitting snug into the shape of yours, tongue warm as it found its way into your mouth.

“You’re gonna get it now?” He muttered against your lips with a slight smile, pressing soft kisses to you. You hadn’t even noticed the phone was ringing again, too caught up in the way his fingers felt in your hair, the other planted softly at the base of your neck.

“I guess I should,” you didn’t even open your eyes, continuing the kiss as you began to straddle him, pressing him into the plush couch cushion. The phone went silent once more, only to be ringing again, in what seemed like a more urgent matter if that was even possible.

“For fuck’s sake,” you exclaimed, pushing off of him as you stormed over to it. “Who is it?”

Steve’s face was flushed, his hands adjusting his hair and pulling at the rumbled front of his shirt. He sat up slowly, pressing the back of his hand to his cheeks to cool them as he began to notice how flustered he had become. You trailed your eyes over him from across the room, hunger in your eyes.

“Oh, Billy—hey.”

The name had Steve stiffening, his face dropping as you continued the phone call. He directed his attention to the television once more, pretending to tune out the conversation, yet you knew he was listening.

Billy’s words in your ear were droning on, a blabber of speech that sounded strikingly similar to the parents in the Peanuts cartoons. You fought the eye roll, even if he couldn’t see it, you had to save face in front of Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, babe…” You spoke to him, putting up your best good girl voice that normally works in this situation. Steve’s head ticked slightly in your direction, eyes squinting barely. “Of course, we can try again. Anytime.”

Steve stood up, hands dusting over his jean pockets as he dug his foot into the carpet. He seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with himself, hands moving from in his pockets to outside to crossed at his chest to finally rest at his hips. He cleared his throat, you pulled the phone away from your ear to listen for his next words.

“Hey, uhh, I think I’m going to get going,” he muttered, face flushed as he pointed his thumb towards the front door. As he went to go turn, you hung up on Billy, ignoring his shout of protest as it hit the hook.

“Wait! You’re leaving?” You asked, rushing over to him as his back was turned to you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, fingers urging him to sit down before you returned to your previous position, knees caging in his hips, your bum pressed firm into his lap. His fingers came to rest at your fingers, spread wide over the expanse of skin, slightly pushing up your pajama top.

“I… you seemed busy,” he sounded distracted as you began to press kisses to his neck. His head hit the back cushion, hips rutting up into yours before he could even think of it. You ground down on him, a roll of your hips pulling a guttural moan from him.

“Can’t we have some fun first, Steve?”

His eyes fluttered shut at your hips worked magic over his, the bulge in his jeans growing by the second as your fingers explored his chest, finally feeling the firm press of muscle beneath them. Meeting his lips again, you pushed the kiss further, licking into his mouth with a fervor behind it.

He placed a hand in your hair, pulling you into him as your chest pressed against him, pants escaping your mouths.

“It’s okay, Steve,” You whispered against his mouth, arching up into him. He was beyond hard in this moment, grinding up into you as you worked him, movements slow, yet calculated over him. “I’m yours for tonight.”

He nodded into the kiss, pulling his hand towards the front of your sleep shorts, fingers dipping below the waist band to brush over your pubic bone. You gasped at the feeling, head pulling away from him to look down at his hand disappearing behind your shorts. His fingers brushed over you, slight pressure applied to your clothed clit.

You arched into the touch, your own hand coming to rub at the front of his pants, brushing over his bulge pressing at the front. The two of you became breathless, heavy pants filling the room as you rubbed at each other. His fingers moved in circles over you, the material of your panties separating the skin-on-skin contact dampening with each movement.

“You know, I’ve—“ his voice was strained, caught in his throat as he spoke, eyes low as he looked up at you on top of him. “I’ve always had a crush on y—“

You kissed him again, swallowing his words as the confession left your mouth. Your heart began to pound in your chest, arousal briefly leaving at the words. That was something you didn’t do, no, definitely not. He wasn’t going to sit here, look pretty as he fell apart, and confess his true feelings for you.

His breath hitched even further as you slipped your hand into the waistband of his jeans, gripping him through the thin material of his boxers. Fuck, of course, he’s huge, you thought to yourself. His looks, of course, weren’t enough for him.

The grasp on him had him mewling, hips coming up off the couch as you felt around, giving him light tugs. He tried keeping up the movements with his own fingers on you, failing as he fell apart under your touch. With a low moan, his hips stilling as he came, eyes squeezed shut with his chest heaving rapidly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tongue darting out to dampen his red, kiss-swollen lips. You kissed its traces, giggling at him as he opened his eyes to meet you. You were tempted to sit there for a moment, get lost in the deep amber of his eyes, find yourself a home there. That wasn’t your MO, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

You pulled yourself from him, clambering off of him as you adjusted the front of your clothing. Glancing back at the tape forgotten on the tv, the credits began to roll, the distorted flashing of the Ridgemont Mall showing on screen.

“Hey, you didn’t even—“

You cut him off, smiling as you began to walk towards the tape, turning it off as you spoke, “You better get going.”

You handed him the tape, tucked into its sleeve as he sat on the couch, shirt ruffled up, pants loose at the waist, dark patch wet at the front. He glanced down at himself, embarrassment flooding his cheeks at the state he was in.

“What about…” He didn’t finish his words, shaking his head as he stood up off the couch. You sat in silence with one another as he fixed himself, his hands running through tendrils that lay across his forehead.

Walking him to the front door, you chewed at your bottom lip, feet shuffling under you as he stood in the door frame. You avoided eye contact, hand clasped on the door as he stood there, searching for something to say. You felt if you looked at him, you would cave, would give in to feelings that you knew would be bad for you.

“Could I, at least, see you again?”

The sound of his voice had you looking at him, heart beating faster as he looked so sincere with the porch light casting a halo around him. He looked unraveled, yet in the best way, cheeks still coloured red from his high.

You went to shake your head, wanted to explain your thing when it came to situations like this, yet you found yourself pausing in the movement. His confession earlier stung at you, eating away at a part of you that was surprising to even be there in the first place. Reluctantly, you nodded, ignoring the beam he gave you immediately.

“Friday,” you supplied, knuckles lightening in color as you gripped the wood. As he opened his mouth to speak, you covered it quickly, “Return policy and all.”

The joy was gone from him, smile falling just as quickly as he gave it to you. If there was any time for you to feel like a villain, it was now—this opportunity feeling like taking candy from a child. Only it was worse. Yet he had to know this was just how you operated, his own rumors that once circled the town not straying far from your own. Turning on his heel, his head was low as he made his way down your walkway.

Slowly, you shut the door behind him, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned to rest your forehead against it. The feeling of guilt in your chest was inexcusable, the length of time you had even known this boy too short to make up for it. His confession earlier lingered in your brain, wondering what might have happened if you urged him on, pressing details of his crush.

You fought the thoughts for the rest of the night, ignoring them as you were pressed into the back seat of another boy’s car at Lover’s Lake. Had to focus on the feeling of the stranger’s hands on you, the feeling of him inside of you as windows became steamier, clothes were shed. Notches on your belt were what they seemed, nothing too much to think about as you ignored the gnawing in your chest.

Friday came and went, Robin standing behind the counter as you pressed the tape over the counter into her hands. The boy that remained on your mind was nowhere to be seen, missing from the floor as your eyes searched the heads appearing in between aisles of films. And if when you asked about his whereabouts and Robin gave you an answer alluding to him coming down with something, you definitely did not fight the feeling to be upset, figuring it was just as much nothing to him as it was to you. You didn’t call Billy back that night, didn’t pretend it was Steve instead who was kissing you, arching you down in a way you would’ve loved to be with him with.

Next Part.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington smut #smut #loser!steve #ugh love him #that's my baby #I hope you enjoyed this #requests

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mechaknight-98 · 4 months

Text

Celebrations (NSFW) Ft: Jihyo

Authors note: A little something for the birthday girl

You arrive at the restaurant where we agreed to meet. I’m as usual several minutes early as I wait for you to come in. After you get in Max is the next to arrive then Vlad. You and I notice Vlad is being dropped off by a very pretty girl with dark hair. She kisses his cheek before leaving and says, “Text me when you’re done, sweetie.” Vlad smiles at her adorably and nods.

He runs up to you and me and says “Sorry I’m late guys Natty’s practice went on a little longer than usual. You look at me and I look at you.

“Who’s Natty?” You ask

“Oh, a girl I met on Tinder a while back. We have been dating for a while now.” We look at each other again but let the subject go.

“Well you’re not too late because we’re waiting on…oh there he is,” you say as Max comes rushing in. He looks stressed but he’s here.

“Sorry I’m late…” he starts but you hold up your hand dismissing his words

“Look boss it’s fine, but let’s get started because my girlfriend’s birthday is today and I promised her a major portion of my time.” Max Nods

“Wait I thought Sana’s birthday just happened?” Vlad asked. I nodded in agreement.

“Guys I'm dating Sana and Jihyo remember,” you answer I squint at You and shrug.

“ Look I know it sounds wrong but they chose this, and have made it very clear they are only willing to share me.” you defend. I relent and. We talk about the dig we are about to go on It is nothing too important: just locations and objects, artifacts we are looking for. Normal paleontologist stuff. After that, we all go our separate ways. You get a text from Jihyo saying she’s ready to go. You smile and go to your car to pick her up. She hops in the car and instantly grabs your free hand.

“Where to honey it’s all about you tonight?” You ask Jihyo. She looks at you with her big soft brown eyes and ponders the choices.

“That burger place in the hills, but shower first.” She replies authoritatively. You nod and drive her to your apartment so she can shower, then use your sky-warp powers to take you to the burger spot. You paid for lunch and walked with her to a nearby park overlooking all of Whittier and much of Socal.

“This is so nice and quiet.” jihyo says as she eats. A little piece of lettuce drips down her cheek and you wipe it off with a napkin.

“Oh what a gentleman.” jihyo teases

You smile then reply, “Anything for my birthday girl.” jihyo smiles and then looks into the distance.

“I could retire out here,” Jiyho says happily.

“Oh you retire but you royalty why would you give that up,” you tease

“Well I wanna live my life and maybe I wanna start a family with you.” Jihyo teases. “You ever consider that Gally?” she adds looking at you with a teasing grin. You're flustered speechless. Jihyo nestles in, “Okay ten more minutes then we go back okay.” Jihyo says. You nod and stay with her as you watch the sunset. After night fully takes hold you skywarp Jihyo back to your apartment.

“Oh, that's so helpful. Why can't we just do that everywhere?” jihyo whines

“Because it's super tiring for me,” you respond with your hands on your hips setting buckets. Jihyo laughs and then tells you to shower. After you finish you walk back into the living room of your apartment. Jihyo eyes you hungrily but recomposes herself you chuckle as she gets herself ready for her “surprise party” Dahyun is the one who messed up but to her credit, She does double-check to make sure Jihyo isn't there. She just walked in when she specifically mentioned the party. It was a huge laugh but what can you do?

You smile and drive her back to her apartment where Sana is waiting along with the rest of the members of Twice. They bought her a cake and quite a few of her favorite things. Sejeong was also there eager to support her closest friend. Jihyo was overwhelmed with joy and appreciation.

“Ah, you guys. She says the sniffles and almost tears. Dahyun who was the one physically closest to her began to ball her eyes out seeing her crying.

“Unnie I’m so happy to have you in my life. She said as she hugged your girlfriend. You watched happily to see Jihyo getting so much love. After the little mini-party, only you Sana, and Sejeong remained. You had already given Jihyo her the necklace you picked up a while ago with Vlad and as predicted she loved it despite you strategically avoiding the topic of price. You only told her that she was a priceless girl and the cost was irrelevant.

Jihyo sat in your lap while you ran your fingers through her hair. She nestled into your chest relaxed and content. Sejeong watched pouting, “Ugh sky two are too cute.” Sejeong lamented.

“You don't have anyone interested in you unnie?” Jihyo said looking up confused.

“No apparently I'm intimidating,” Sejeong answered you laughed because those are the exact words you heard me say a while back when you asked me the same question. Sejeong unaware you weren't laughing at her left in an annoyed huff. Leaving Jihyo and you. Sana got a “call” and had to leave the apartment for a couple of hours.

As soon as the door closed Jihyo heard the lock click. The switch in her flipped. She looked up at your blue eyes and kissed you. As she did she unbuckled your belt.

“Mommy needs your cock.” she whispered as she got up and led you to her bedroom. She slides her pants down low enough that you get a view of her pussy. You reach a finger out to stroke her but she sees it and smacks your finger away. “Don't make mommy repeat herself.” jihyo says. You nod and take your cock out. You give your cock a few preparation strokes before thrusting into her drenched pussy. You slide in easily but as you pull out her pussy grips you so tight it's almost as if she's trying to tear your dick off. You groan which fuels your girlfriend's arousal, “yes moan for mommy.” she demands as her pussy gets tighter and wetter causing more noises and breaths to escape your lips. Jihyo is elated. Since not having sex for almost two months Jihyo is not long away from her orgasm and you are not far off as well.

“Harder. Smack Mommy’s ass.” Jihyo growls. Jihyo must need it tonight. She is never this demanding of you, but is her birthday and you oblige slapping her ass harder and harder until

“Ahhh I'm cumming.” Jihyo moans as she explodes all over your cock. She begins to squirt a deluge, with such intensity it forces you out. You watch amused as Jihyo rides her orgasm for as long as she can. After she's done she pushes you back onto the chair and starts riding you.

“Now mommy needs your cum.” Jihyo states matter of a fact as she begins to bounce on your cock. Despite her previous orgasm, she's somehow tighter than before.

“Oh god yes.” jihyo says as you begin your slow and deliberate thrusts. In and out you go as her pussy grips you like an oil but ungodly tight vice. Jihyo is obscenely tight tonight. “Fucking bred me,” she says, and due to a lack of time together, you give in at that exact moment. You explode inside Jihyo and she looks back at you stunned. Before laughing.

“It's okay Mommy didn't give you any prep so she's unsurprised you would make a mess.” she looks at her watch and when she realizes the time she says “shit we'll have to continue this later.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #twice smut #twice jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo male reader

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roosterforme · 10 months

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Batting Practice Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was your wedding day, and Bradley realized he was getting everything he wanted... not just a perfect wife, but a perfect family of three. After exchanging vows and promises, you and Everett take him home, because there's something important you want to ask him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow," Molly said from the spot where she was lounging in the middle of your bed eating tortilla chips dipped in marshmallow fluff. "I remember when you married Danny. God, you looked fucking miserable that day."

"I was miserable that day. Young and stupid, too. Thanks for reminding me." You tried to take the bag of chips away as you said, "I hate crumbs in my bed. Can't you at least sit on the floor or something?"

She whined and reached for the bag. "It's not for me! It's for the baby. Now be a nice auntie and let me have my little snack."

You weren't sure of all the details of what had gone down. All you knew was Molly and Bob were still together, and she was keeping the baby. Apparently there had been some pleading on his end. Molly said he begged her not to leave him, and then he promptly told her about a million times how much the idea of having a child with her thrilled him. And slowly but surely, over the past few weeks, she seemed to become attached to the idea of being a mom.

"Fine," you sighed, handing her the chips. "Have your snack. But just remember, I'm not doing it for you."

"The baby thanks you," she said, rubbing her tiny bump as she shoved four chips into her mouth. "I wonder what the guys are up to," she said after she was done chewing.

"Watching the Phillies game. Or at least that's what Bradley texted me a few minutes ago."

"Give me your phone! You're not supposed to be talking to him! Bob was supposed to hide Bradley's phone under our bathroom sink. My god, I can't trust him to do anything right," she said with a soft smile on her face. She yanked your phone away and tucked it behind her back. "Now try on your dress one more time. Your tits look so good in it."

"I need you to zip it. Go wash your hands."

She rolled her eyes so hard, it was like she was fifteen years old again, and then she went into your bathroom like she was told. "What's it like living with Bradley?" she asked, moving his stuff around on the counter. "Does he like belch all the time and scratch himself?"

You started laughing as you tried to pull your dress on. "No! He's perfect. It feels like he's always been here. He takes care of almost everything for Ev, and he's actually quite tidy." You skipped over all the parts where you and he had been making love all over the house just because you could, but you did add, "I love having him with us."

Molly turned around and smirked as she came to zip your dress. "If I ever marry Bob, which I might not!" she said, cutting off your excited look. "If I do though, it'll be in the middle of a wildflower meadow just after sunset. And I'll make my own bouquet with the flowers beforehand. Oh, and I'll have to make sure Bob takes his allergy pills. But it'll be so dreamy."

You were gaping at her in the mirror as she zipped the dress. "Really?" you asked, flabbergasted. "That's literally nothing like what I thought you were going to say."

Molly sighed and made her way back to the bag of chips. "It's these fucking hormones. Fuck! I want to get married in the middle of some flowers now! What the hell?" She was wiping at her eyes as she told you, "Pull your dress down a little bit. I'm telling you, Bradley won't even be able to focus on the ceremony with your boobs looking like that."

"The ceremony is only going to be like ten minutes long. If that," you reminded her. But damn, she was right. This dress fit you very well. "Thanks for having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the dress shop and kind of forcing me to buy this dress after I sat on the floor with it on."

She smiled at you as she dipped a chip into the fluff. "That's literally what I'm here for."

-------------------------

The following morning, Bradley pulled up to Petco Park with Bob and Everett in the Bronco just as the sun started to warm everything up for the day. He was getting married in an hour and a half. He felt jittery, but he wasn't nervous. He felt warm, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He felt like everything was the way he never knew, until very recently, that he wanted it to be.

"Ready, kiddo?" he asked Everett as he opened the back door. Everett scrambled into his arms and wrapped him in a hug around the neck.

"Yep!" he replied, and then the three of them were making their way into the Players Only Entrance where a security guard was waiting for them. "This is so cool," Everett whispered. The ballpark was basically deserted since the game didn't start until three o'clock, and they only passed a few other staff members as they entered the Padres locker room.

"Remember that fun tour we went on?" Bradley asked Everett as Bob held the door for them. He kissed his stepson on the cheek before setting him down on one of the benches.

Everett muttered, "Yeah," as he looked all around the room in awe. "But we went in the visiting team locker room."

Bradley laughed and looked around as well. "We sure did, because we wanted to see all the Phillies gear."

"Can we all go to Philadelphia?" Everett asked.

"Well, Philadelphia made it to the short list of vacation spots when I talked to your mom. We'll work on her. We already got a Phillies room out of her."

Everett was smiling nonstop as the three of them changed into their baseball jerseys in the same room where the Padres players would be putting on their uniforms in a few hours for their game against the Rockies. Bradley checked himself out in the mirror. They all matched, more or less, in their white jerseys with gold stitching and letters. Molly had been in charge of ordering them from a small boutique shop. Everett's said GRAND SLAM on the back. Bob's just said BOB. And Bradley's said GROOM; he was a little surprised his didn't come back saying TURD-IN-LAW to be honest.

When the security guard poked his head inside and said, "You can go out onto the field now," Bradley's heart started pounding. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he put his Phillies cap on backwards. Then he put Everett's on him backwards and picked him up again.

"I love you, Ev," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. Bradley was in some ways more emotional about becoming Everett's stepdad than he was about marrying you. Because it was like a bonus. A little extra responsibility he never planned for. Falling in love with you was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Every time he looked at his kid, he saw innocent trust returned to him, and all Bradley wanted to do was make him feel safe and loved.

"I love you, Dad," he replied, like it was already the most natural thing in the world. And Bradley supposed it was. Because the two of them seemed to be cut from the same cloth. And Bradley was more than happy to step into the role of a father for this child.

When Bradley turned to Bob, he asked, "You have the rings?"

"In my pocket," he promised, and then the three of them were on their way. They walked quietly through the tunnel and out onto the turf. Everything smelled fresh, like grass and damp earth. Everett's head was on a swivel, looking all around, just like when they took the ballpark tour months ago.

They were being waved over to home plate by John, their tour guide from that very special day. "It's nice to see you again," he said, shaking hands with Bradley. "I've just been informed that your bride is on her way up from the other locker room."

"Thanks," Bradley muttered, anxious to see you and be with you. He held onto Everett a little tighter as they waited, and he laughed softly. Somehow you managed to pull off this wedding, and the fact that Jake was the one who helped you do it was almost too funny.

"Hi, Mommy!" Everett called, waving his hand as Bradley whirled around to find you walking out onto the infield. A strangled noise escaped him as you made your way closer with a soft smile on your lips. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. It was the only word to describe the day and how he felt and how you looked with Molly holding the bunched up bottom of your wedding dress.

"Kitten," he whispered, feeling short of breath as you joined him on home plate. Your dress was simple but beautiful, and Bradley wasn't ashamed to admit that he couldn't stop glancing at your tits. But it was the smile on your face that had him grinning, too.

When you leaned in to kiss Everett's cheek, Bradley took your chin in his palm and tried to kiss you. "Stop it!" Molly screeched as she finished straightening out your wedding dress. Bradley froze as she added, "You're not supposed to kiss her until John says it's time! Have you never been to a wedding before?"

"I'm so happy I'm gaining not only a wife and son today, but also such a lovely sister-in-law," he told her in response.

Molly smiled sweetly at him. "You should be delighted."

"Can we get married now?" you asked with a laugh, and Bradley set Everett gently down next to home plate.

"It's the only reason I'm here," he promised, taking your hands in his. "To marry my beautiful Kitten and live happily ever after."

You smiled at him as he pulled you a little closer. Everett was practically standing between the two of you, so excited for what was to come, and Bob and Molly stood next to John.

"Ready?" When everyone nodded, John said a few words about how he was pleased that he could perform this short ceremony today after being the one who gave them the tour of Petco Park. He told them that they made him smile so many times that day as they interacted with each other. And then he asked if you and Bradley wanted to say anything to each other.

"I'll go first," you said, ducking your head for a beat before you looked Bradley in the eyes. "The first day we met...the first day of tee ball...I took one look at you interacting with Everett, and I thought maybe there was a small chance that it wouldn't have to be just the two of us forever." You let go of Bradley's left hand and smiled at Everett as you ran your fingers along his cheek. "Not that there was anything wrong with the two of us, Ev. You know that, right?"

Everett nodded and told you, "I know."

"We were so close to perfect. But Bradley makes us even better," you said, looking up to meet his eyes again. You studied him for a beat, and Bradley watched your eyes fill with tears. "It's hard to explain how you make me feel so confident, when at the same time, you make me feel like you'll be strong when I can't."

"Kitten," he whispered, wiping your tears as they fell.

"I love you, Coach," you said with a soft laugh through your watery eyes that had him smiling and shaking his head. "You belong with us."

"I really do," he agreed.

"Your turn," you whispered, and with a nod, Bradley knelt down in the dirt next to home plate, his jeans getting messy in the process.

"Hey, kiddo," he whispered to Everett, loud enough that you could still hear him.

"Hi, Dad," he replied, and Bradley wrapped him up in his arms as he started to cry.

"Thanks for letting me marry your mom," Bradley told him, his voice a little rough as he kissed Everett's forehead. "And thanks for letting me be your dad. I'm going to make some promises to you, okay?"

"Okay," Everett said with a little shrug that made Bradley chuckle.

He wiped at his tears as he said, "I promise to play baseball with you in the park all the time. At least until your mom gets annoyed. And I promise we'll watch the Phillies together in Philadelphia, because it's the only way to see the Phanatic up close."

"Yes!" Everett said, clapping his hands.

"And I promise to help you with your homework and make you pancakes and collect baseball cards together. And we can do anything else you decide you want to do, okay? Because I love you, kiddo."

Everett hugged him again, and when Bradley stood and looked at you, he was crying in earnest. "Kitten, I love your son just as much as I love you."

"I know it," you whispered, crying as well.

He took a deep breath and laughed. "Are you ready for your promises, Kitten?" When you nodded he took your hands in his again. "In front of Ev, Molly and Bob, and this immaculate turf at Petco Park, I promise I love you more than baseball."

You started laughing through your tears, and Bradley turned to see Molly wiping her own tears on Bob's jersey.

"That's a lot of love," you told him, squeezing his hands.

He nodded, pulling both of your hands so they were around his waist. "I promise I love you more than the Phillies. And I always will." He let his forehead come to rest against yours and said, "And if you'll let me be strong for you sometimes when you need it, then that's an honor, Kitten. Because you're the strongest person I know. But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Your eyes closed as Bradley's lips brushed your forehead and his hands slipped around your waist. "John, I'm ready to kiss my wife."

"By all means," he replied, "go right ahead."

Your hands were around Bradley's neck, nudging his backward cap and pulling him closer, and then he was kissing you while your little cheering section of four people went wild.

"I love you," he promised against your lips, but you pulled him in for more with a smile. He brushed your nose with his and kissed you one last time. Then Bob was holding out one ring on each palm, and you let Bradley slip yours on before you took his left hand in yours. His ring looked perfect after you slid it into place. And then Everett was reaching for him, and Bradley scooped him up while you hugged your sister and kissed Bob's cheek.

"You're really my dad now," Everett said, letting his head come to rest on Bradley's shoulder.

Bradley held him close. "I think I already kind of was."

--------------------------

The fact that your wedding reception consisted of ballpark food and cheap beer in one of the Padres' suites had you and Bradley smiling nonstop. The two of you had taken wedding photos while the park was still empty, and most of the shots were of the three of you.

"Could I interest you in some nachos, Kitten?" Bradley asked, stealing a chip as he handed you a tray.

"Thanks, Coach," you said, kissing his cheek. "You know, I don't think we give Bob enough credit."

"What do you mean?" he asked, dipping another chip into the cheese and eating it.

"Well, we only met because he got you to coach the team with him in the first place. And he kind of let you bully me into being the Team Mom."

Bradley shook his head. "That seems like ages, not just just five months. You'd wear your little black skirt to practices and prance across the grass in your high heels. Fuck, you're so sexy." You giggled as he kissed you behind your ear. "And your tits look amazing in your dress."

"You can thank Molly for making me buy this one."

Bradley glanced toward where Molly and Bob were making out in the corner. His hands were all over the barely noticeable swell of her pregnant belly, and she was raking her fingers through his hair. "Nah, Bob's busy thanking her himself at the moment."

As more guests showed up just before the game started, you watched Nat squirt some ketchup onto a hotdog for Everett. And then you watched Bradley hold a napkin up while he ate it, just like he always did. The two of them were so shockingly similar, it was jarring at times when you remembered that Danny was Everett's biological father.

"Talk about an upgrade," you whispered, taking a sip of beer before you went to greet Maverick. You barely watched the game, too busy chatting with your friends and kissing Bradley nonstop. But the Padres won which made Bradley and Everett happy, so it made you happy, too.

And then by six o'clock, you had an exhausted seven year old son on your hands. He was crashing from all the snacks and the excitement of the day. "Time to head home," Bradley said, picking Everett up and kissing your lips. "And then we can send Ev off with my delightful sister-in-law."

You looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean? Ev's going to their condo for the night?"

"Two nights. I'm taking you to Palm Springs," he told you with a smirk. "We're having a real honeymoon now, and then I was thinking over winter break, we could take a family trip to Disney World?"

You threw yourself at him, and he collected you in his other arm. "That sounds perfect." You'd never been to Palm Springs or Disney World, but suddenly you wanted to go everywhere with him.

"You said Philadelphia," Everett whined in Bradley's grasp.

Bradley kissed his forehead. "That'll be in the spring, silly. Gotta go when the Phanatic is active in his natural habitat."

Your heart pounded as you walked out across the parking lot to the Bronco. Because it turned out Molly had been keeping two secrets today: one for Bradley and one for you and Ev. You didn't expect to be this nervous, but here you were, barely able to get your seatbelt buckled around your dress.

Bradley was sweet and gentle, taking the buckle from your shaking hands. "Are you okay, Kitten?" he asked, the dying sunlight turning his eyes a deep amber.

"Yes. Just can't wait to get home. Ev and I have a special wedding gift for you."

"Well, I can't wait either."

You bit your lip and looked out the window as you muttered, "Hope you like it."

Because Molly was the one driving her car, she and Bob got back to your house first. She was unlocking the front door so Bradley could carry Everett inside while he yawned. "We'll be out on the back deck," Molly said, taking Bob by the hand. "Let us know when Ev is all ready for his sleepover."

Now Bradley was the one who looked confused as they closed the back door behind them, leaving the three of you alone in the living room. "Ev's bag is already packed," Bradley said. "He can go with them anytime."

"That's true." You felt too hot in your wedding dress now, thinking you might need to take a minute to yourself. But then Everett was climbing out of Bradley's arms and reaching for the box you'd stashed under the couch.

"Can we give it to him?" he asked, looking up at you for permission with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yeah," you whispered, running your hand over your chest, trying to calm the pounding of your heart. Your eye caught on the baseball covered in hearts that Bradley had used to propose to you where it sat on your mantle. He belonged here with both of you, and you wanted Everett to have every opportunity to live his best life. "We can give it to him."

Then Everett thrust the wrapped box into Bradley's hands, and you realized you were both staring at him. You reached for your son, pulling him closer to you as Bradley shook the box a little bit. "This is for me?"

"Yes," you and Everett said in unison, but now you felt like you were going to be sick as he started to rip into the silver paper. And then he was opening the box.

A smile lit Bradley's face as he set the box aside and held up a Phillies jersey, examining the front of it. "I love it," he said, nodding his head. "But it looks a little small for me, doesn't it?"

You pressed your lips together as you squeezed Everett's shoulder. "Look at the back," you told him, your voice a little shaky.

Bradley turned it around and read it. "Bradshaw. But it's a child's size." When he met your eyes, you could barely see through your tears, and you even sensed that Everett was anxious now.

"It's not for you, Coach," you informed him softly. Then you looked down at your son for a beat as you said, "It's for Ev. This is just our way of asking you if you'd like to be Everett's father. If you'd like to adopt him."

You watched Bradley's lips part, but no words came out. He was looking between the two of you in awe as tears seemed to fill his eyes. Then he read the back of the jersey again as he sobbed. "Come here," he whispered, kneeling down in front of Everett and tucking the jersey under his arm. "Is that what you want, kiddo?"

Everett wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck and said, "Yes."

Then Bradley looked up at you with tears in his eyes. "You'd let me?"

"Yes!" you said, now crying as well. "It's what we want."

He buried his face in Everett's neck and squeezed him. "Yes, I want to adopt you, Ev," he managed. As he stood with Everett in his arms, he kissed you and whispered, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"We can do it soon," you told him, hugging him a little awkwardly as he held Everett. "I'll have my lawyer change my petition from child support to adoption. We can get new papers served. No more Danny. We don't need the money anyway. Not like we need you, Coach."

Bradley leaned down and kissed you. "First thing when we get back from Palm Springs, Kitten. Let's get this ball rolling. You won't have to worry about custody or Danny anymore. You won't even have to think about it. And I'll get my bonus," he told Everett with a grin. "A son to go along with my wife."

-------------------------------

Married! Adopting Ev! Happiness! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 30

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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803 notes · View notes

elaofarc · 5 days

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I'D LIKE TO MEAN IT WHEN I SAY I'M OVER YOU | 𝑔. 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢

๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒— 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ 𝑎/𝑛 planned this to be something soft and sweet and short. turned out to be a cheesy, slightly angsty one but then kind of hot and messy. and long, ofc. i'm exhausted so please excuse any mistakes. rbs and comments are appreciated!

childhood friends & marriage of convenience + hurt/comfort(maybe?idk) + desperate satoru + mentions of fucked up family relationships + dare i say childhood friends to somewhat strangers-but-not-exactly-strangers to lovers + car sēx + f!orgasm + breedīng + pūssy slāpping + unprotected sēx + overstim

The reason for your distress is either the unbearable heat of summer or the young man sprawled on the armchair in your living room with his legs stretched out on the coffee table—you are not sure which. The only thing you are sure of is that you feel unbearably suffocated. It is as if a pair of hands is greedily squeezing your throat more and more, their fingers burning your delicate skin, pressing on your throat until they steal your last breath. You want to close and open your eyes and wake up, but this is not a dream; it never was a dream. Your life has never been like a dream, even though it might seem that way to outsiders. The most vivid proof of this is the man in your living room, watching you with his chin resting on his hand. Despite the sunset and the orange and pink hues of the sky overshadowing him, his bright blue eyes never lose their brightness as they fix on you; you are not sure if you are restless or upset. You are not even sure which book you are holding in this moment; the only thing you know is that you are drowning in a sea of thoughts that drive you into almost madness.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, his gaze so intense that it makes you want to run and hide. Of course, that's not the main reason; you can easily see the mocking look in his eyes. The corners of his lips curl up in an almost arrogant smirk, as if he is watching a movie he has seen countless times. He has an indifferent yet knowing attitude, which makes you squirm uncomfortably in your seat for some reason. You are torn between throwing the book in your hand at his head and quietly leaving the room, but you know that neither is a suitable solution for the problem at hand.

“Like what?” he responds, the faint pink and orange hues of the sky reflecting off his white hair, making his pale skin seem to glow slightly. Dressed in all black, he is still the brightest thing in your living room; Gojo Satoru. You are not sure how his presence makes you feel; he is real enough to slap you with how pathetic you are and arrogant enough to mock the situation you have fallen into.

“Like that,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “You know how you're looking. Stop looking at me like that.” You hurriedly avert your eyes from him and turn your gaze to the book, deciding it’s a good idea to sit as far away from him as possible. Perched on the other end of the large and comfortable couch, with your legs pulled up to your chest, you feel your hair sticking to your neck and forehead with sweat, even though the weather isn’t that hot.

“You’re holding the book upside down,” Gojo finally says. “I didn’t know you could read an upside-down book, you must be quite the bookworm.”

The room temperature suddenly rises, or maybe your face starts burning—you feel tears welling up from embarrassment and sink further into the couch. Without turning the upside-down book, which would only embarrass you more, you barely manage to direct your gaze at him. There are those intense eyes that overwhelm you again, mocking and arrogant and perhaps a bit haughty but definitely over-confident… causing your stomach to churn and your head to spin. You close the book and slowly place it on the coffee table—responding to him would only entertain him more, but you can't help yourself, and with a furrowed brow, you part your lips.

“There are many things you don’t know about me,” you respond to him annoyingly. “So maybe it’s best if you don’t comment. What do you think?”

Knowing this is just one of his games, that he enjoys making you angry, and that your expressions entertain him, you get mad at yourself for not being able to stay silent—but it’s clear that Satoru has this effect on you. If you are Pandora’s box, he is the only one who thinks opening you is fun. Everything about you fascinates him more than he understands; when he’s with you, he acts on impulse rather than calculated responses and behaviors.

“That’s why I’m here,” he says, stretching where he sits and running his fingers through his hair. His shirt rides up a bit, and you immediately look away to another part of your house as if he isn't there. “To get to know my fiancée better, right? You know, nobody stays a child. I’m sure you’ve changed a lot after all these years.”

“Of course,” you say with a clearly insincere smile. “You can be sure that the only thing that’s changed about me is not being an asshole like you, Satoru.”

“Thank you,” Satoru replies; his voice this time is low and husky, as if he stumbles over a few words and manages to say only these. “As kind as always.”

“I don’t like you,” you say in one breath. The house is quiet, so quiet that you can easily hear each other's breathing. Neither you nor Satoru comments for a while after your words; you sit in a pitiful silence for a while. You can’t help but think how bearable he is when he keeps his mouth shut.

“Is that why the necklace is still around your neck?” Satoru asks, but this time without a mocking tone; instead, he seems to need a few words to fall from your lips.

“Yours is still around your neck too,” you quickly, almost panicked, reply.

“I never told you I didn’t like you,” Satoru says calmly. His calmness makes you feel more restless and suffocated; how can he be so calm? Why is he so calm? Just like you have no say over your own life, you have no say here either; you are getting married because of decisions made without considering your feelings and private lives. You knew it would happen sooner or later, but you always wanted to believe in that rebellious part of you that refused to accept it—but now the ring shining on your finger, your childhood friend sprawled in your living room, and the necklaces hidden under your shirts around your necks drag you into a whirlpool of complicated emotions. “I never said such a thing to you.”

You open your lips to respond, to say something, but you have no idea what to say—you have dozens of questions you want to ask, dozens of questions you need answers to… yet you betray yourself and swallow all the words, biting your tongue and staying silent.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Satoru asks this time. You feel like you’re about to cry; not because you hate him, no, definitely not. You don’t hate him, you never hated him… you just envy and resent him for being able to adapt to your parents’ lives built on money and business so easily. It should be easy for you too; it’s unfair, you should also be able to stand up to your family with a careless attitude. But you were always the girl who voiced injustice, who became aggressive like an unclaimed dog when it was necessary to protect her boundaries; the first person to make you feel a sense of belonging now sits before you, and in your eyes, he is no different from the family that never taught you what belonging means.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Satoru pauses a bit. “Like you’re about to cry. Do you hate me that much?”

“It’s not about you,” you reply with a mocking laugh. “Why do you think everything revolves around you?”

“Am I wrong to think it has something to do with me? You’re going to marry me,” Satoru says, lowering his legs from the table and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching you carefully. His eyes roaming over you make you feel caged; does he look at you so carefully because he has forgotten everything about you?

“I can’t believe you’re staying silent about this,” you finally say, standing up and looking at Satoru with wide eyes. You can’t help but feel betrayed; why didn’t he speak up? Why did he agree to everything that was told to you? Is he that cowardly? That despicable? Is he…is he like them? You realize at that moment, standing against Satoru, what really scares you. That he is like them. The possibility that he has become as despicable an adult as your parents, who would do anything to gain a little more profit, a little more money, to control the media, terrifies you to death.

“Come on,” Satoru says, leaning back in the armchair, folding his hands in his lap, and tilting his head back, watching you carefully. “Did you ever believe you’d marry for love? Really?”

Feeling the warm sunset sunlight, you feel completely detached from the situation. Since the moment you met him, he's integrated into your life as if he is an essential piece for your being. No matter how many times you try to escape him, you always find yourself returning for some sense of comfort. "I mean, yeah," you say, feeling both disappointed and surprised by how easily he accepts everything. It is almost paralyzing; he believes you never wanted to marry for love, thinking you two are destined to be mere pawns for your parents' companies, soon to be merged. "And you didn't? I mean, you really haven't thought like that?"

"Love?" Satoru echoes, reverting to that annoying-asshole version of himself. "You think I ever believed I would marry for love? Please." His tone hints at something else, something familiar yet elusive. "Love is a made-up concept, and you should know that too. Life isn't like your little books, you know."

It feels like glass shattering in your ears—almost deafening as you stand before him, disappointment evident in your eyes. Is that it? Is that all he has to say for himself or this entire situation? With red cheeks and glossy eyes, you straighten your posture. Feeling threatened, you stand upright, shoulders tensing even though you want to curl into a ball and disappear.

"I say you're as materialistic and soulless as our parents. This career, wealth, and company success have colored you blind," you say, sitting back on the couch, as far from him as possible. Everything you believed crumbles before you, slipping through your fingers—you feel too tired, too consumed to hold onto them. "And it upsets me because I thought you were different. I truly believed we could break this cycle."

"What cycle, for God's sake?" His voice is not low this time; it sounds like he is on the brink of madness. What other choice does he have, really? After spending nearly ten years with you, holding your hand while sleeping, going to school with you, loving you so desperately that he stood up to his parents countless times—how can he not accept this? Isn't this his only chance to be with you, even though you are clearly upset? Satoru cannot find the strength to explain what he has been going through all these years, he does not have the heart to—but he wishes he could. If only he could, you would understand him. You truly would. But he fears your reaction, especially now that you are being forced to marry him. If he had acted on his feelings earlier, if he had opened up to you sooner, maybe this would be a marriage for love. But he is too late, and he knows it all too well. Despite his nonchalant and carefree facade, everything stops for Satoru when it concerns you.

Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, pinning him down where he stands. Satoru feels his head spinning. It is clear you are awaiting a response, holding onto the smallest hope you have left about him—but he just doesn't know any better.

"Okay, you may be right. But I still have more personality than those old geezers," he says, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, almost forming a twisted smirk. Your eyebrows furrow, pupils dilate, and eyes widen, lips parted in utter disappointment beyond the point of return. "Don't be a dick, Satoru," your voice drips with disappointment as you speak. You shake your head and reach for your book, feeling lost about what you should do—or can do—in this situation. Opening your book to signal that you want to end the conversation, you hope to cut off any form of communication with him, though you know it is impossible. "At least I can blame them for not having a personality, but you go on boasting about yourself and still end up as soulless as them. I think that says something about you."

As you flip open your book, Satoru lets the room fall silent. He lets you read, pretending he isn't planning to restart the conversation after giving you a little break. After only a few moments, he speaks again.

"You're pretty sassy today, huh?" he muses, watching you read. "Did I ruin your day of self-care? I'm sorry. Maybe I should make it up to you—like you said, we have the whole rest of our lives together, hmm?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," you say, clearly annoyed but aware that you're doing what he loves: talking back, giving him the attention he craves from you. You reopen your book, trying to read, but thoughts about the marriage consume you, keeping you awake at night as you toss and turn in bed. You can't believe you'll be sharing a house with him in a week. Maybe you can suggest living separately; you wonder what his reaction would be.

Unable to focus, you put your book down and get up, walking to the kitchen. After a minute or two, you return with another cup in your hand and hand it to Satoru without looking at him. "This will keep your mouth shut. Drink, and don't talk."

After actually doing as you say and taking the coffee mug from your hand, Satoru manages to keep silent, while you sink into the corner of the couch, lifelessly staring at your book. There are so many things you want to tell and ask him, but it feels like everything would fall apart, so you absentmindedly look at the first page of the book—not a single word sticks in your mind, you just try to cope with the horror of realizing how wrong you were about him all this time. But you are not going to be the winning side; knowing you never will be, you don’t want to fight against anything anymore. Maybe staying silent and accepting is the right thing to do; after all, Satoru is your childhood friend, you could have been forced to marry someone else, right? That would be worse, but this doesn’t feel like the best option either. Several times you open your lips as if to say something, but no words come out, and you sit there on the couch with an expression Satoru can’t name; your back against the corner of the couch, knees pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your knees, watching him carefully. You have no idea when or where you put down the book. You can’t take your eyes off the chain of the necklace around his neck, why is he still wearing it? Why are you still wearing it?

“You’re lying,” you finally say, and at that moment, Satoru involuntarily straightens up in his seat and coughs nervously.

“What?”

“You’re lying, Satoru. I’m not stupid, I know you’re lying.”

“About what?” he says, with no trace of the indifference that has become the most important part of his personality; his bright blue eyes are a bit darker, his lips slightly parted, and his full attention is on you.

“You believe in love,” you say slowly and quietly, and Satoru realizes that your gaze makes him feel even weaker. “If you didn’t believe…”

Your fingers find the necklace hidden under your shirt, playing with the flower petal pendant, while your eyes are fixed on the necklace you know is hidden under Satoru’s shirt. After a few minutes of silence, your fingers grasp the necklace a bit more firmly, and just then, Satoru quickly gets up from his seat, kneels beside your couch, and gently removes your hand from the necklace.

“Don’t.”

“If you didn’t believe, you’d stay silent,” you say, your voice now completely a whisper, and you realize this feels safer. You remember the times you always whispered out of fear as a child; how some things stay the same regardless of age. Your hand slowly moves toward the side of Satoru’s neck, and when your fingertips touch his skin, both of you shudder as if struck by electricity. Your fingers slowly slide down his skin, finally reaching the necklace and pulling it out from under his shirt; it’s still as bright as the first day, making you want to cry. You slowly tug on the necklace, knowing it could break at any moment; Satoru, worried, takes your hand in his large hands again and gently moves it away from the necklace.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Don’t.”

“You’re a liar,” you say, but your voice lacks an accusatory tone; instead, there’s a sense of relief from finally discovering the feelings Satoru couldn’t name. “Gojo Satoru, you’re a terrible liar. And also a coward.”

His soft lips touch the knuckles of your hand, placing feather-light kisses on the back of your hand—as if he needs this to reveal everything he’s tried to hide from you, to feel you.

“You could have been honest with me,” you whisper, gently playing with Satoru’s hair with your other hand, while he continues to kiss your hand and wrist. He stays silent, kneeling there, and you remember his childhood self; how he always sought refuge with you despite being older. The times he knelt in front of you like this, resting his head in your lap, desperately seeking your warmth. “You could have been brave,” you gently tug on his hair to lift his head, making him look at you. “You should have known that I would support you. I would always, against everyone, support you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Satoru says, his lips still placing kisses along your wrist and even up your arm, and you realize both of you are breathless. Your eyes watch him carefully; you can see how Satoru seems torn between needing to touch you and being gentle enough not to scare you away. His butterfly kisses trail along your arm, and your body feels like it melts into the large, comfortable couch—as if it’s fused with it. At some point, he’s leaned slightly over you, one of his large hands gently caressing the exposed side of your waist where your thin shirt rides up.

“What’s not easy?” you ask.

“Seeing your reaction,” Satoru murmurs against your arm. “You’ve always opposed everything just for the sake of opposing. If I had opened up to you… if I had told you about my feelings, I couldn’t have married you.”

“Fool,” you say, making him lift his head and look at you as you offer a barely-there smile. “You couldn’t have known without saying it.”

So that's how even before your marriage, you've proven him that love exists—and it's not only present in your silly little books.

Perhaps if it were truly a marriage of convenience, there could have been an insurmountable barrier between you—a situation where you'd sleep in separate rooms, living like strangers under one roof. Perhaps the only thing that would bind you together would be the comfort of being childhood friends, who knows…

But now, as Satoru's large, warm hands roam over your skin left bare by the deep back neckline of the outfit you wore to the opening ceremony that you didn't even know it's purpose, you realize that this was never possible from the start. Satoru worships you; what you're wearing, whether you've put on makeup or not, or anything else doesn't matter. Somehow touching you, feeling the softness and warmth of your skin against his palms brings Satoru peace.

The flashes of cameras continue behind you as Satoru places one hand on your bare back, accompanying you, and leaning in to whisper something absurd yet amusing about how all these paparazzi are already the lapdogs of your combined family businesses; you straighten his slightly askew tie as you listen to him. If there were an award for the youngest couple at the event, it would likely have been presented to you, so slipping away from the scene quickly wouldn't seem strange to anyone.

"We shouldn't have left so early," you say, but Satoru, as if not hearing you at all, takes your hand and guides you towards the car. His steps are firm and hurried, and he can feel his hands tingling and his heart pounding in his chest like a determined sparrow wanting to escape.

"As if it's so important," says Satoru as he opens the car door, almost throwing your body into the car. Although you appear calm and indifferent, his urgent and eager attitude further indulges you; as you fasten your seatbelt, Satoru presses the gas pedal with all his might, and the car leaves the parking lot with a deafening roar. You're not sure where you're going, the only thing you know is that one of your spouse's big hands is exploring your legs as if they've never had this chance before.

"Satoru, are you hearing me? I'm talking to you.'"

"Believe me," he says, taking off his tie with one hand while the other is on the steering wheel, throwing it onto the back seat. "The only thing I can think of right now is getting rid of these excesses."

That's how after minutes, he has your trembling legs spread apart and thrown over his broad shoulders on the backseat of the car—your silk dress pushed up and, curled around your waist as his tongue desperately lap against your pussy; he's way too impatient to get rid of your clothing, your panties are pushed to the side as he experimentally pushes a finger inside your cunt. "Fuck—Satoru," you whine, body jolting forward as your hips buck against his mouth even more. Satoru hums, clearly enjoying the way you grind against him as he eats you out on the backseat.

"Couldn't think of anything else all night," he murmurs, completely drunk on your pussy—your juices drip down from his chin to his expensive shirt, lips glistening as he hooks his hands around your inner thighs and pulls you even closer to his mouth; the bridge of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit as he runs his tongue along your folds over and over again, driving you to the brink of madness. "So fucking gorgeous, my pretty girl."

You cry out, his husky voice shakes you to your core as you press your legs together—caging his head in between your trembling thighs. You have no idea if hours or minutes passed—all you know is that he'll try to rip one after another from you. You tug on his hair desperately, whimpers and moans fill the car as Satoru lets out a guttural sound; making you grind against his mouth more and more desperately. When he pulls back breathlessly, you see how wet and messy he is—it's embarassing, but he look so good. “You’re making it hard for me to hold back, pretty girl...” He lowly murmurs, sucking a hickey onto that sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

A soft yet loud yelp falls from your parted lips, hands quickly and weakly try to push Satoru's head away—yet, he does not yield. "Shh, it's okay baby," he cooes, as if making fun of how messy and needy you are underneath him. "Just gotta taste you on my tongue, don't be impatient now."

"Fuck you," you breathlessly reply back. "You're the impatient one here."

Instead of replying, you hear Satoru spitting on your pussy as if you're not wet enough already—and before wasting any second, he lands a slap. Not too rough, but it's enough to rip the sweetest moan from you. As he pushed two fingers into your clenching walls, both of you groan—the feeling of being wrapped so tightly gets Satoru dizzy. As his fingers plunge in and out of your cunt, his other hand lands another slap. It makes you sob this time, body jerking and squirming under his steel-like hold as his fingers lazily fuck your pussy.

"Satoru—," you whine, hips moving in circles, grinding against his hand as you cry and moan from the intense feeling. "Don't—"

"What? Can't handle that? This sweet pussy of yours, too sensitive to be used like this? Huh? Answer me, baby."

You want to say something, anything, to match his cockiness—yet the way his thick fingers are able to reach places that you can't is enough to make your head spin. He adds the third finger before landing another smack on your pussy, his hardened cock twitching painfully in his pants as he absentmindedly grinds against the backseat; it doesn't take him long to rip the first orgasm of the night from you, your back arches off from the backseat as your nails dig into his hair—his deep groans become faint noises in the background as his fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm—without giving you a break, he makes out with your pussy, getting lost and high on your taste.

"Fuck, fuck—fuck, Satoru, stop, give me a min—," your pleas fall on deaf ears as he makes you lay on your back completely, one knee resting on the backseat as he swiftly undoes his belt; pushing his briefs and pants down before he gives a few strokes to his painfully hard cock. Your eyes hang heavily on the sight before you, pre-cum oozing from the tip as he lets it drip in your pussy, it makes both of you moan—the windows getting steamy, the car shaking with how much you're shuffling inside.

"Too sensitive," you whine, wet eyelashes feel heavy with mascara as the blackness of it stains your red cheeks—Satoru adores this sight of you; all ruined and pliant for him, ready for him to fuck you again and again until your walls greedily clench around his cock. "Hmm?" Satoru hums, probably unaware of what you're saying, so focused on your glistening fold that he can't help but push the tip of his cock, sliding up and down painfully slowly as your body tries to escape underneath his strong body.

His hand comes up to your mouth, thumb forcing your lips open as he presses on your tongue—almost making you gag, he loves watching the way your eyes get glossier and your mouth hangs open, saliva dripping down to your chin. "Spit," he orders, his voice low and deep as he watches you with his full attention, his gaze follows the way you immediately spit in his hand. Satoru doesn't waste too much time, using your spit as a lube—as if he needs it, you're dripping wet all over the backseat—, his now wet hand giving his cock a few pumps before he slowly presses the tip of his cock to your entrance.

A low and deep moan coming from you fills the car, your back arching and your eyes rolling back—you need to escape from his hold, yet you realize that even though he's ripped an intense orgasm from you and you're still sensitive, your walls clench around nothing, begging to wrap around your husband's dick. "Shit—hey, hey, babe, calm down a bit—fuck," he breathlessly whispers, pulling back to playfully slap your pussy, his eyes burning with desire and desperation. At this point, you're unable to utter a word; all you can do is to look at Satoru through your heavy eyelashes with your glassy eyes as he finally sinks deep—the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix as he stays still for a moment.

"Shit, you're gonna make me cum," his voice feels like it's coming from afar—a distant groan as you feel him moving. Filling you up, making you shake and cry and push yourself down on him as your hands helplessly hold onto Satoru's thick biceps. Once he starts thrusting into your weeping cunt, you're a mess; Satoru has to push a finger inside your mouth to get your voice a little bit lower. Don't get him wrong, he loves hearing your voice—but he loves being the only one who hears your voice. You suck on his finger as he mercilessly pounds into you, hips rutting against you as if he's been holding it back for so long—it has been a few hours since the night has started, actually. "Such a greedy pussy," he murmurs, those blue eyes resting heavily on you as he fucks you with an almost brutal pace. "Sucking me in—fuck, you're gonna make me cum."

Something between 'please' and 'yeah' falls from your lips as Satoru's thumb presses against your tongue—he leans down, and you're ready to kiss him, but all he does is to spit in your mouth before he smears it with his thumb. God, he's filthy—he loves watching you messily lay underneath him, all wet and stuffed.

"Satoru," you whine, your whimper slowly dying down as your nails dig into his thick biceps. "Gonna cum again, hah—fuck," your desperate voice combined with your pussy all slick and greedy for him does it for Satoru, really. He leans down after pulling his hand back from your mouth, his wet thumb drawing circles on your abused clit as he mindlessly fucks your sensitive cunt. "Yeah?" He says in one breath, feeling his cock twitch while being wrapped by your warm and velvety walls. "Give me one more, sweet girl—go on, you can do that."

You can't even hear him when you cum all around his cock, your second orgasm leaving you out of breath and jelly as Satoru's big hands grab you by your sides—moving your spent body in sync with his thrusts. "That's it, that's it, pretty," he says even though you just can't comprehend what he's saying, all your senses are clouded as his thrusts become sloppy—deep and slow, hitting your sweet spot, making you cry and tremble in his big hands. You try to push him back mindlessly, the feeling of his thick cock brushing against your walls, the tip brushing against your cervix—getting ready to pump you full of his cum.

"Satoru, wait, I can't take it—," he is quick to shush you, face immediately buried in your chest as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipples, teeth teasingly catching the perked up nub.

"Shh, you can, love, you can—just let me, fuck, let me fill you up, yeah? Gonna cum in this pretty pussy, fill you up as you deserve," your desperate cries push him over the edge as he speaks, his body jerks forward, hips pressed against you as he just slowly rocks, hot and thick stripes of his seeds filling your abused cunt as he handles your body as if you're just a doll; making you grind on him by holding your waist, not letting a drip of his cum go to waste. He pulls back only when he catches his breath, two fingers gathering the cum dripping from your cunt and pushing it back again, fucking that back into you even though you're just sobbing, overly sensitive as your husband's thick fingers do the job just right. "You're gonna keep it for me, huh? Such a good girl you are, maybe I should cum inside you until we're sure that you're filled to the brim—until all you can think of is me breeding you, over and over and over again." You can't even protest at this point, already too dumb on Satoru's cock, still feeling full and stuffed even though he's just using two fingers.

None of you talk as you two try to somewhat regain your consciousness; all Satoru does is bring those two fingers up to your lips, soaked with his cum mixed with yours. You clean his fingers, and he helps you, too! Kissing you, licking into your mouth as your tongue laps against the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself mixed with him—practically, he does the same.

"I'll take a hot bath once we get home," you breathlessly murmur as Satoru fixes your dress, knowing his cum dripping down from you as he pulls your panties up gets him all hard and twitching again, yet he has to keep it cool until you two get home. "You're not allowed anywhere near me tonight."

All Satoru does in return is to give you a slight smirk; a knowing look, too—because he'll be even more insufferable once you two get home.

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noirgl0w · 4 months

Text

Rafe x Sleepy!pogue!reader

They are in Reader's cabin, she lives in a cabin facing the sea, both sitting on the porch while watching the sunset, they have been at the beach all day since she wanted to go pick up seashells and take a walk on the beach.

Rafe is sitting on Reader's old, narrow couch on the porch, she sitting on his lap. She has spent long minutes with her head hidden in the crook of Rafe's neck, playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck or his bangs. He, for his part, is watching the sunset, his thumb tracing patterns on Reader's upper thigh, a half-smoked cigarette on his lips.

She raises her head for a few seconds to see her boy's profile, and he watches her from the corner of his eye. "What are you doing?"

She shrugs, snuggling further into his chest and beginning to leave wet kisses on his neck. "Rafey, will you stay with me tonight?"

He exhales a large amount of smoke through his mouth, turning his gaze forward again and letting his head fall back, giving her more access to his neck.

"I do not know, babe." He murmured. "Won't your father be home? I don't want to get you into trouble with him."

"He's fixing the engine of... Some posh kook's yacht." She muttered, shrugging again.

He could see her eyes drooping from exhaustion, the summer storms had not let her sleep in the cabin, everything was echoing loudly and there were leaks everywhere.

Today, for the first time all week, she was going to be able to sleep in peace, without storms. "Please, I don't want to sleep alone."

"But no snoring." Rafe murmured, and Reader playfully slapped him on the arm.

"I do not snore!"

Rafe grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her into the air. Reader quickly wrapped her arms around Rafe and let him carry her to her room, although he bumped into one of the green beer bottles that were hanging from the ceiling and used as lamps.

Which caused Reader to widen her eyes with surprise on her features. "Rafe! You're going to break it! Do you have any idea how much that costs?"

"Literally three dollars princess, it's not like your family is going to go bankrupt." Sarcasm was clear in his tone of voice while he dropped Reader, who was already wearinga her sleeping outfit (a extremely long t-shirt, which was her father's, and only her panties underneath) and he took off his clothes.

"That's almost 3.5% of my weekly salary!" She complained.

And he lay down on the bed, falling on top of Reader and trapping her under his weight, he hugged her and held her to his chest. "I told you that you could stop working and I would pay for everything, but you're a little stubborn, so you have no right to complain."

Reader rolled his eyes, still she started kissing Rafe's cheeks, another time she would have complained, but she was too sleepy. "Good night, Rafey."

"Good night princess."

#soft rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron soft #obx #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outer banks imagines

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starlessnightsblog · 5 months

Text

daryl x reader

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MDNI 18+ | wordcount: 2.8k | smutt ⭑ fluff

first night alone after being on the road for months.

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While everyone claimed cell blocks, Maggie and Glenn claimed one of the guard towers, so it only felt right Daryl and I claimed the other. We haven't had much privacy since the farm, I had my own room there and only shared it with Daryl for a few days up until we fled after a herd came through.

I hated being on the road, always running, starving, and freezing. Always moving, never truly safe. With no walls or fences, it made me feel so vulnerable out there. I was so thankful for Rick's group, finding my family's farm and Hershel taking them in. We could not have survived without them. Rick brought me Daryl. We didn't like each other at first, but after I found him in the woods with an arrow in his side and catching him when Andrea grazed his skull with a bullet, I haven't left his side since.

Being near Daryl made me feel safe, I think he knew that too and even took pride in it. He was quiet but I knew him this well now and I could just tell.

I was growing frustrated out on the road. I hadn't been able to touch Daryl in months, the way I wanted to touch him. We slept on each other's shoulders most nights, resting our heads, fighting sleep. Daryl liked taking watch and that meant I would take it with him. If I took watch, he insisted he would be right there with me. We talked about everything and anything while out there. I simply enjoyed this man's company, and I liked looking at him, I thought he was gorgeous. He made killing walkers look so.. appealing, might I say it turned me on. God, I needed him, I needed his touch, his rough hands on my bare skin, my fingers in his hair, his lips colliding with my own.

This was going to be our first night sleeping alone in months. I was anxious for the sun to start going down, for dinner to be over with, all so I could have Daryl to myself.

We spent most of the day clearing again; in the evening, we decided to haul two mattresses out of one of the untouched cells and bring them up to our tower. After, Daryl went with Rick to run the fence perimeter one more time. He left me to 'decorate' and so I did.

I had a few blankets I'd been totting around these past months, and I made a makeshift bed in the middle of the tiny, yet surprisingly cozy box. I looked out the window and noticed the sun was setting in the distance. I saw Rick walking back inside. Then the next thing I heard was the door swing open and then closed.

"What a view,' A husky voice engulfed the room. It was Daryl, I turned my head and greeted him with a smile. My eyes following his every move, he set his bow against the wall and lingered over to me, "and I'm not talking bout the sunset." A breath of laughter escaped my lips, "hm, what, too corny?" He murmured.

"Maybe a little."

His hand met the small of my back and I leaned into him, my arms finding their way around his neck, and I melted into his heated embrace, his arms wrapped around me, I buried my head into his neck. He smelled like Daryl. He squeezed me softly; I gained a new sense of ease. We stayed glued together for a few seconds until he broke the embrace,

"Lift your arms."

I did as was told, His hands skimmed over my skin, checking for bites. I felt his fingers reach for the hems of my shirt and the then fabric came over my head. My hair fell over my shoulders and my bra was exposed. He stole a glance, trying not to get distracted. I felt the warmth of the air against my skin but somehow, I still got goosebumps.

Daryl tossed the shirt on the cot I laid out, his hands gliding over my back.

"..Any scratches?" He hesitated. As if scared, I was going to reveal some mystery cut; a 1 way ticket to walkerville.

"I'm good. I promise." I reassured him.

I turned back to face him, I looked down towards his waist band, then at his vest, "Your turn."

He started at the top button and worked his way threw the first few,I joined in, starting at the bottom. Our fingers met at the middle button, I took my finger and pushed it through, his torso now exposed. I scanned his chest, no bites. Before I reached for his back, he spoke, "Im good. I promise."

I nodded and believed him. He stepped forward, getting close, resting his hand on my hip, His other hand came up to move a loose piece of my hair behind my ear. I could feel his breath on my nose, I felt the warmth in my stomach growing. I could hear his breathing.

He hummed again. A devilish smirk growing on his face, "Is it wrong that I like the blood in your hair?"

Taken back, I raised my brow whilst his eyes stayed steady on mine.

"I mean-" I paused and went to touch my hair but stopped halfway when my eyes shifted up to his shoulders, I glanced at them for a split second.

his dirty, golden, scuffed up shoulders and then like word vomit-

"I like your scuffed shoulders Dixon." My tone, seductive. My fingers started a trail from his ear down to the tip on his shoulder blade, my nails gliding effortlessly.

"I like all of you." he mumbled. My gaze shifted once more, back to his.

Our eyes locked, the corners of my mouth started to stab my cheeks at his words. I couldn't help but blush. The distance between us, if there was any left, closed. My boobs rested on his chest, our lips too close to turn back now.

"I love you." He whispered against my cheek.

My heart skipped a beat, this wasn't our first exchange of the 3 words, yet still, I felt like a teenager all over again, palms sweaty, heart rate never slowing.

"I love you too." my hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him to kiss me. Our foreheads rested against one another. I felt his breath pass my ear lobe, then he started placing soft kisses behind my ear. His soft lips were light on my skin, they reached my collarbone, I gave in, tilting my head, a breathy moan escaped my lips.

He smiled against my collarbone before looking back down at me, staring into my soul with his oceans for eyes. His hand moved under my chin, and he rested his index finger under, tilting my head up slightly. "You have no idea what I'm about to do to you, do you?" His other hand was still on the small of my back.

"I might have some ideas." I teased, biting my lip.

He licked his own. "Hm, knowing you, they might be worse than mine."

"Come find out." I whispered. I pulled at his waist band, bumping my hips into his, he grunted as his hands cupped my face.

I wanted Daryl to show me how much he wanted me. Needed me. I wanted him to throw himself onto me, attack me like the hunter he was and I'm just the prey that got too close. I wanted him so bad now it ached.

Our lips brushed together, I parted them, eagerly waiting and I fluttered my eyes closed. He closed the distance as his lips met mine gracefully, my whole world stopped spinning. He sucked on my top lip as I pushed back. Our lip movements synchronizing. I felt his tongue slide by, and like instinct, I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth. He acted starved, he was, touch starved at least, so was I.

He was being almost modest up until now, the kiss grew hot, heavy and the grip he had on me tightened. He moved my face with his as our tongues danced together. I fidgeted with his pants, fighting the zipper. He really needed some new ones after all this time. Our lips never disconnected. I managed to unzip the stubborn trousers, finding his hard-on that only grew more at my touch.

He groaned in my mouth, and then moved his hands down to the buttons of my shorts. He took no time ripping them free. His hands moved pass my hips and onto my ass, he grabbed at me viciously. Another soft moan escaped my lips.

"Come here." He breathed, while lifting my thighs up, I knew what he wanted, I jumped up to straddle him, his hands catching the back of my thighs. In the middle of our heavy kiss, his lips found my neck again, he sucked at my skin, more eager breaths of mine broke free. I could feel Daryl leaning down, he placed me on the mattress. I was able to catch my breath as I watched him remove his vest and jeans. Next his hands pulled my shorts off. I picked my head up and rested on my elbows, he stood at the edge of the cot and paused. Daryl rubbed his thumb under his lip, wiping away leftover spit. He admired my body and with that same thumb, he trailed it down my inner thigh. That smirk he wore so well appeared on his face.

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?"

Before I could respond, he spoke, "I just can't help it, you're fucking perfect. This is perfect." His eyes flickered around the concrete box. "I missed you like this."

The heat in my cheeks rose, he leaned back down, our faces edging closer once again. "I missed this too, so fucking much." I muttered. His hand still in-between my thighs, getting closer and closer to my warmth; his other hand. holding himself up above me, "Be a good girl and spread your legs."

I did and he kissed me again, the hand that was still caressing my thigh, moved lower and I felt his thumb rub against my clit, his fingers resting between my folds. It was only just a tease, before he moved his whole body down, his hands rested on either side of my waist, he began leaving kisses and bites down my stomach till he reached my underwear, his eyes stared up at me, I could feel his timed breathing on my skin. He left a kiss above my underwear, right on my clit. The hunger in his eyes flicked. I was growing hot with anticipation.

My lips parted as I waited for him to remove my underwear. He nudged them down my legs with elegance and then threw them across the room.

His mouth met my wetness and left kisses right on my clit, while his thumb circled around it, he glanced up at me, "Holy shit." He mumbled, "You sure did miss me princess, fuck." He began sucking on my clit, I fell back, my nails finding the blankets. His hands held my hips in place, they rose with his every move. He buried his face into my cunt and focused on my clit, his tongue lapping around it. I leaned back, taking it all in. Daryl just knew what to do and that made him all the more hot.

As he licked and sucked, I could feel my peak rising. He didn't slow down once he realized I was giving into my climax. "That's it princess, let me get a taste." He breathed in-between my folds.

I let out a cry of pleasure. Every stoke of his tongue was breaking me, his hands clinging to me as I grinded my hips to mimic his movements. My back now arching for Daryl and his hard work, he cursed under his breath as my moans began to frequent, his mouth and fingers working together, my fingernails digging into the fabric beneath me. I never wanted this to end, selfishly, whines of pleading, (please, don't stop, & yes's) filled the room as I dissolved into immaculate pleasure.

Daryl lifted his head, and with the look of angst in his eyes, lifting himself off the bed, as I laid there anxious. He removed his boxers swiftly and jumped back on me, nuzzling his hips right in-between my thighs, I could feel his hard-on tapping my opening with every motion he made, He never broke eye contact w me and left kisses on my boobs while removing my bra. He got it off on the first try, I don't know how but thank god because as soon as the fabric was out from under me, his lips pressed against one of my nipples, as his hand grasped for the other. My head fell back, a moan echoed from my throat.

He hummed against my bare skin, my wet nipple getting hard as he breathed, his mouth hovering over it. He looked up at me, grinning. He liked seeing me like this, my quivering motivating him and the sounds coming from my lips, sounds he was responsible for. It got him off, He loved it, loved the way I moaned, the way I moved against his touch. If heaven ever existed this, was it, right here underneath my person; that meant hell was wherever Daryl was not.

He brought his face up to mine, he rested on his hands and knees above me, leaving a few separated, pecks on my lips. I feel his tip pressing against me. He brought his opened palm to my mouth, "Spit." He breathed.

I returned his grin and did as was told. Leaving my eyes stuck on his whilst doing so. He coated his cock with my spit, I bit my lip, this was the first time I snuck a peak of his manhood, my mouth watered at the sight, I bucked my hips, and spread my legs, he caught one and rested it over his shoulder. His breathing heightening as he pushed against my cunt, I was wet, we both knew that. The heartbeat in-between my legs pulsed as hard as ever, the ache growing the closer he got. His lips connected with mine once again, I bit his lip when he tried to break away, I held his neck as he pressed harder, then more and more, till finally he was all the way in. His head fell back, I sharp moan left my lips. He lowered himself, letting his body rest on mine, he thrusted into me; not even letting me get use to the feeling. No, Daryl was as eager as I was and that made it all the better. he thrusted into my cervix several more times, making room for himself inside me,

"Jesus fucking christ, (y/n), " He whimpered, scanning my face and my body, "you look so fucking good. You feel.. so.. fucking good."

He sped up, pounding my insides out, I couldn't contain myself any longer, I almost forgot I didn't need too. We were high up, no way anyone could hear me. Louder moans began leaving my body, I begged for him to never stop, to make me cum, to go harder. I wanted every inch. Hushed moans were escaping Daryl's lips, he smashed his lips against mine, trying to conceal them. But we were fucking like animals now, bodies sprinkled with sweat, shaking, he groaned against ear, as I cried and whimpered in his. My hands were getting tangled in his hair, we were both close now. A few more rushed thrusts and I cried out, my body going weak as he kept thrusting into me. I gripped Daryl's back, sinking my nails into his burning skin, his husky breathing heavy in my ears. I came again, my legs began to shake, Daryl was still grinding into me, he cursed over his breath and his body tightened and in one swift motion he leaped out of me, and grabbed his cock, aiming it at my abdomen. He released his load onto my shaky stomach. I took a deep breath, gaining consciousness again after my climax.

I sat up, my nose leveled with his hard-on, I gazed up at him seductively, I grabbed him at the base and wrapped my mouth around it, sucking him completely dry, he caressed my cheek. I let go and let him walk away to grab a loose rag he had handy. He whipped the cum from my stomach and chest and threw the rag on the ground next to his pile of clothes.

We both laid back down, he kissed my forehead and his finger drawing lines on my cheek and neck. Daryl hummed, "You know, we're never leaving this guard tower now." I started tracing lines on his arm, admiring his physique. I let out a breath and smiled. "Sounds perfect to me."

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#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead

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