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amaranthineghost · 5 months

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| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.

ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support <3

if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.

GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.

the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.

she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.

love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.

she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.

it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.

because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.

growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.

it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.

after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.

when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.

but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.

every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.

because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.

growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.

she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.

it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.

because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.

but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.

though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.

it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.

because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.

but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.

especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.

but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.

it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.

self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.

when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.

days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.

and it did, at least a little.

as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.

she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.

so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.

his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.

she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.

her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.

" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?

her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.

with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.

it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.

but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.

when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.

she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.

when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.

because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.

though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.

she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.

"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.

"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.

" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.

"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.

she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.

he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.

"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.

she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.

" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."

the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.

her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."

his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"

"how I feel."

he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"

she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.

she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."

she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.

he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."

his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.

the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.

she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.

"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.

she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.

he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.

he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.

he put out her fire.

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gyuswhore · 13 days

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Shut Up (don't)

anniversary event [closed]

lee seokmin x reader

prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap

[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.

masterlist

Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup.

All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway.

“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed.

Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.

Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning.

He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep.

“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.”

“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist.

He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom.

“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”

Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”

“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”

“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”

You freeze.

On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom.

It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room.

“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”

That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.”

“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head.

“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.

“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”

“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!”

“You know what?” you begin.

“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”

“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”

“I just said—”

“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over.

“Stop it.”

“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—”

Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds.

In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words.

Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms.

“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further.

You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…

Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment.

“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.

“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space.

You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to.

“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior.

Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold.

Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat.

Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off.

“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper.

“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”

This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower.

And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip!

He’s ripped your tights.

“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut.

It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely.

You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you.

“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him.

When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling.

“God, Seok that feels so good.”

He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you.

When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him.

“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows.

“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap.

“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing.

You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was.

It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality.

It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks.

“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs.

You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast.

His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping.

Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips.

One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars.

“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say.

“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”

Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end.

Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.

By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths.

Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck.

You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear.

“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin.

“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips.

He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly.

You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight.

Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”

“Please don’t ever leave.”

“Never.”

“Promise?”

You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.

“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek.

“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”

You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”

He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”

“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest.

“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?”

He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden.

You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck.

Promises that you can count on him to fulfill.

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drabblesandimagines · 2 months

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Pink Gingham

Leon Kennedy x reader Established relationship, all fluff

It had been a long week at work. A number of your colleagues calling in sick and multiple projects in the pipeline, you’d tried to take up some of the slack with ill-advised early starts and late finishes...

Truthfully, if Leon hadn’t been away on assignment, you wouldn’t have volunteered for so much overtime.

The house still felt too big compared to the apartment you’d once shared, so the more time out of it at the moment the better, in your opinion. You’d started to feel a little off Friday morning, cast it aside as nothing that a lie-in Saturday would sort, but still found yourself awake at sunrise.

You’d got up, checked your phone to see if there were any messages – zero – showered and dressed, and taken the early wake-up call as a sign that you shouldn’t lie in today, but instead head downstairs to start on the long list of housework that had been neglected with good intentions.

You fill the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and begin to wash the numerous glasses and cups that have built up. It must be the steam from the sink because there’s sweat on your brow by the second cup. You reason you should wait for the water cool down and take a bottle of water out the fridge, greedily gulping down half the thing before you change tact to loading the dishwasher.

After loading up the racks, you still feel too hot for what should for such a menial task. You’re feeling more akin to that time you tried to join Leon in one of his ridiculous work outs in the garage. To top it off, the beginning of a headache is now beginning to pound at your temples. You try and rub it half-heartedly away with your fingers, finally fighting back a yawn.

You check your phone again – still nothing.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to bed, would it?

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, graduating into a horrible, constant throb around your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen, trying to decipher what it was determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but they wouldn’t discharge me till this morning. ETA 210 minutes.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And before you ask – bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words...

"All good."

"Miss you, sweetheart."

"I love you."

"Recycling out tomorrow!"

..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits.

Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

You haul yourself out of bed, immediately regretting it when your vision swims and you fall back down heavily on the mattress, balance somewhat abandoning you.

Probably just got up too fast, you reason, try and shrug it off. There’s there niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’re not well, but you’re going to remain in denial about it. You hate being sick, will never acknowledge you’re feeling under the weather to your grave and just muster on. It’s all psychological – it’s just a headache, you haven’t drunk enough water, not after you’ve sweated the last one out, didn’t have a proper breakfast either.

You’re fine. There’s too much to do, anyway. Every single time Leon had arrived home from an assignment it had been to a clean house and a home-cooked meal keeping warm in the oven, his favourite sweatpants fresh out of the dryer after you’d convinced him to soak in the tub – worked wonders for tense and bruised muscles – and you’ll be damned if he didn’t have the same today. It’s what he deserves.

He'd beam as soon as he walked in, wrapping you up tight in his arms, pressing a kiss against your temple and you’d run him said bath, finishing off dinner to be served for when he returned downstairs. What would follow would be an early retreat to bed, sometimes for devouring kisses and more, or just embraced in each other’s arms.

Leon’s text was from a while ago, so he couldn’t be too far away. Probably be hungry as well – often running off pure adrenaline when he was fighting for his life, then had an insatiable appetite on his return – so you really should try and see what you could combine from whatever’s in the refrigerator.

Ugh – you hadn’t done a grocery run in a few days. That had been on your agenda for today, though you’re not sure you’ll have time for that now. The laundry hamper is close to overflowing, the dishwasher definitely needs running after you crammed it full after dinner last night, some rogue plates and glasses piled up besides the sink and definitely a few rooms would benefit from the vacuum being run around.

You don’t even what to think about the garbage and recycling situation.

So much for his usual welcome home deal, then.

You get up a little slower this time, rewarded for your efforts by no spots of black in your vision and carefully head out the bedroom and towards the stairs, perhaps gripping the banister a little too firm on your descent than usual.

The easiest task by far is to pop the tablet in the dishwasher and set that to run, so you do that first, though making sure to bend down slowly after the previous bouts of head rush. After it whirs into action, you grab an apron off the hook – a pink frilly gingham one, a gift from a friend – and turn your attention to the fridge and proceed to stare forlornly at the contents, hoping for inspiration to strike.

You close the door in defeat and lean up against the counter. Maybe there’s some pasta and sauce in the cupboard…? Your thought is cut off as you hear the front door unlock.

“Sweetheart, you home?” You want to think it’s the sound of his voice that makes you weak at the knees, but you’d be a liar.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, keeping yourself propped up against the counter. Usually you’d be rushing towards him, colliding into his chest for a hug but everything feels impossible.

“Hey.” He smiles, creases at the corner of those blue eyes you could stare into for hours. Though he wasn’t lying in his text about the bruises – there’s a black eye blooming, currently a rather pleasing shade of purple, and plenty of other marks and scrapes littering his arms.

“Hey. Sorry, I haven’t started dinner yet.” Leon raises his eyebrow at that, and you feel awful, but it’s not for the reason you think. “No, sorry. I mean, welcome home! I’ll just star-” You stand upright, intending to head over to the cupboard in search of something, but your step is a bit too heavy, too quick to move and your vision swims again.

“Whoa.” Leon catches you by your shoulders, holding you up. “You feeling all right there, sweetpea?”

“I’m great.” You try and shrug him off, but his heavy palms stay in place. “Are you okay?”

His brows furrow, eyes scanning over your face. “You look hot.” The concern gives way to a grin as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, not the usual hot. Warm.”

A hand remains on your shoulder while he moves the other to your forehead, gauging your temperature, but you’ll be damned to admit it feels soothingly cool. “I’ll turn the AC on. Let me-”

“Shit, no. You’re burning up.” Leon’s eyes widen, a worried crease appearing on his brow. “How long have you been like this?”

“No, it’s just…” You pull your head back from his hand, reluctantly. “It’s just hot in here.”

He gives you a skeptical look as you try and step around him – a look that would usually be accompanied with his hands on his hips if he didn’t still have one keeping you in place.

“How long?” He repeats, his mind racing, heart pounding. It was protocol to be decontaminated after any interaction with a BOW – he’d showered and changed clothes since Alcatraz. Hell, he’d bagged up his old ones to be incinerated, just to be sure. He knows it’s not logical, he can’t have brought something back with him and it affect you this fast, but the worry still surfaces. “From before I got home or just now? Did you feel a sting or anything?”

“Sting? No.” You shake your head, scrambling for excuses. “I’ve had a headache all morning but I probably haven’t drunk enough water. And… And I didn’t have the AC on or the windows open today, it’s probably that.”

“Mm-hm.” He relaxes a little, he’d already began calculating the distance between here and the lab. “Have I told you before that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” you protest, taking advantage. “I can get dinner started at least. You go relax and I’ll…!”

Your vision swims again from sudden movement, but this time it’s from Leon sweeping you up into his arms. He doesn’t even let out a grunt, even though you know he must be aching from the amount of bruises he has.

“Sweetheart, we’re barely into the afternoon. You don’t need to worry about dinner - you’re going back to bed.”

“No, I’ve got so much to do.” You lament, though you don’t fight as he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he heads towards the stairs.

“So? I can handle it.”

“But you just got back, I should be looking after you.”

That’s the way it had always been. Leon comes home and you’re there for him, however he needs you to be. Sometimes he’ll tell you about what happened as he cuddles into your chest – likes to hear your heartbeat, reminds him of some good in the world – but you’ve failed miserably this time, not even remotely prepared.

“Sweetpea, I know you hate being sick but you aren’t going to feel any better pushing yourself, okay? Let me fuss over my favourite girl for once.”

You don’t say anything as he places you gently down on the bed, sitting up against the headrest. He goes over to the dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, tugging the knot of the apron strings loose before softly asking you to put your arms up above your head. It’s all gentle touches, removing the apron, coercing you out of your top and into his, shuffling you out of your jeans and pulling back the covers for you to get in.

“These the painkillers you took?” He lifts up the box from the bedside table, eyes skimming the instructions and dosage.

“Yeah.” You mumble back, nuzzling your cheek into the pillow. “I don’t remember when though.”

“We’ll hold off a couple more hours, then, before another dose.”

He grabs the glass that was sat beside the pills and retreats into the bathroom, where you hear the tap run for a moment before he’s back at your side, placing down the glass of water. He crouches down besides you and gently brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I get you anything?”

You open an eye. “You.”

He grins, gets to his feet and carefully clambers over you to lie down at your back, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

“Only for a bit, though. Don’t want you overheating from me.”

“Mm-hm…” You mumble into the pillow, feeling your body relax. The weight of his arm feels nice – reassuring. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It isn’t long before Leon can hear your breathing change, assuring him that you’ve drifted off to sleep. He could stay there easily, just close his eyes and nod off and though he knows you would never oppose that, the way you’d be so determined to get the house in order... A flash of pink gingham on the floor makes up his mind.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, a little confused, but clear of the awful headache. Looking for the glass of water you know that Leon left there earlier, you notice that the bedside table now holds your phone, plugged into charge. You sit up slowly – still wary of dizzy spells - greedily drink from the glass of water, feeling it slip down your throat into a particularly empty stomach. Seems like your appetite had decided to reappear.

The digital alarm clock over on the dresser shows that it’s gone 8pm and, most intriguingly, the laundry basket is now empty. Huh.

You don’t bother to dress as you head downstairs, still clad in Leon’s t-shirt. The TV’s playing on a low volume, a candle burning on the coffee table. You can hear the thrum of the washing machine from the utility and when you head through to the kitchen, you find Leon hunched over the sink, apron strings tied around his waist as he dips a glass into the soapy water. The dishwasher is slightly ajar and you can see it’s been emptied, and he’s washing everything left in the sink – by hand.

He looks over his shoulder with a hesitant smile at the sound of your footsteps and then turns, drying his hands off on the apron – the pink frilly gingham number seems to suit him a little too well.

“Hey. Not sure you should be up yet, sweetheart. You were a bit unsteady on your feet earlier. Go sit down for me?”

“Okay.” You nod, and he’s pleased that you don’t protest – putting it down to the fact that you still must be feeling somewhat lousy. He traces your footsteps as you plod over to sit on the sofa though, just in case, and watches you curl up against the armrest.

“You feel up to eating something? I ordered in some soup earlier. Can warm it up on the stove now if you like – it’s your favourite.”

You nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Coming right up.” He pulls the blanket from off the armchair – the one that’s usually reserved for movie nights – and tucks it around you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he does.

He turns to head back to the kitchen when he feels your fingers curl around his wrist, causing him to pause.

“I’m sorry I’m an awful patient.”

“You’re not, just stubborn,” Leon corrects with a cocky grin, but it doesn’t have the desired effect as the pout remains in place on your lips, thoughts spiraling. “But so am I.”

“No, I should be looking after you. You should be coming back to everything in order. Whatever this is won’t be anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through - those bruises look so sore an-“

“Hey, it’s not a competition, sweetpea.” He says, softly, crouching down in front of you, rubbing your thigh with his right hand. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“It feels like I’ve let you down.”

“Never.” He says, firmly, giving you thigh a squeeze. “Actually impossible. I’m just glad I got back in time to keep an eye on you, I just hate the idea of you feeling lousy on your own.”

The washing machine beeps from the utility and he gets to his feet, passing you the remote from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll move the laundry to the dryer and get that soup warmed up?”

“If you’re sure.”

He bends down, presses a kiss against your crown.

“Positive.”

He only makes it a few steps back towards the kitchen when you call out, looking bashful.

“Leon?”

“Mm?” He twists slightly to look back in curiosity.

“You look cute in that apron.”

He gives you a twirl, ending with a beaming grin. “I know.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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melagnes · 2 months

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PECSA Weekend: One Bed

Synopsis: You are a teacher at Abbott Elementary and Barb knows Melissa has feelings for you. During PECSA weekend, Barb, being sick of the both of you avoiding your feelings for each other, only booked two hotel rooms, leaving you and Mel to share. It is just your luck that there was only one bed...

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

It had been a regular day at Abbott Elementary; a lovely blend of chaos, humour, and heartwarming moments. You had gotten to school an hour early that day, which left you with the much-needed time to prep your classroom for your students, and most importantly, brew a cup of coffee.

Upon entering the breakroom, you noticed that you weren't the only one who arrived early–Melissa's gaze turned away from the news on the television and focused on you. "Ey, Good Morning early bird. How's it going?" she greeted.

"It will be much better when I wake up with some caffeine. How about you?" you replied.

"Ah, you know Tesoro, I'm feeling quite good but maybe it's the anticipation of seeing you."

You blushed profusely–Melissa never failed to make you blush. The attraction you had for her was so strong, she was always on your mind. Contrary to your belief, but obvious to every single teacher at Abbott, Melissa felt the same about you. She loved to make you blush every chance she got. However, Mel had no idea you felt the same way about her, so she just playfully flirted with you; she didn't push any further since she didn't want to ruin your existing friendship.

"Mel, you're such a sweetheart. I hate to cut this short, but I need to head back to my class and prepare for my students. I'll catch you later at lunch," you said, as you left the room with the biggest smile and your cheeks still pink and warm.

As the weekend approached, anticipation buzzed through the halls of Abbott Elementary–the excitement for PECSA weekend was immense. The annual Pennsylvania Educational Conference for the Southeast Area was a time for teachers to come together to discuss their teaching, but truly, veteran teachers Barbara and Melissa were looking forward to the Math-a-ritas.

However, this year was different. Barbara knew you and Melissa were both whipped out of your minds for each other, and this predicament was quite frankly getting on her nerves. She knew she needed to intervene since the two of you would not get your heads out of your asses.

In the breakroom, the three of you were sitting in your usual places for lunch; Barb beside Mel, and you next to Mel, naturally.

"Well, is everyone excited for PECSA weekend?" Barb asks, humming in excitement.

"Of course," you state with a smile.

Barbara directed her attention towards you, "Which got me thinking... Maybe you should join us? It would be a shame to miss out on all the fun together."

"Oh, uh, I don't know..." you glance toward Melissa, a hint of uncertainty in your expression.

"I'd love to have you join us, Piccola. It'll be fun," Melissa adds.

"As long as I wouldn't be intruding," you reply hesitantly.

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't be intruding at all! We'd be thrilled to have you join us. It's gonna be a blast, and the more, the merrier, right?" Barbara reassures you, "Plus, I've got a feeling Melissa would be thrilled to have you there."

As Barbara finished her sentence, Melissa shot her a playful scowl, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You couldn't help but grin at Melissa's reaction, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her outside of school. "Well, if Melissa insists, who am I to refuse?" you say with a playful wink.

Melissa rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her true feelings.

Barbara knowingly chuckles at the exchange, pleased with herself for putting the beginning stages of her plan in motion. "Great! It's settled then. PECSA weekend, here we come!"

The weekend has commenced and you found yourself packed and ready to go, excitement bubbling in your chest. When you heard a knock at your front door indicating Melissa's arrival to pick you up, you couldn't shake the nervous anticipation that swirled within you. The prospect of spending the weekend with Melissa was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

When you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat, "Hey Mel." It was a reflex; whenever you saw her, her mere presence always left you momentarily speechless.

"Ya ready to hit the road?" she asked, her smile infectious.

"Absolutely, thanks for picking me up," you state gratefully.

After you put your bag in the trunk and crawled into the back seat of the car, your voyage to PECSA commenced. The atmosphere was relaxed as Melissa took the wheel, with Barb in the passenger seat beside her. Without much time at all, the two of them fell into their all too recognizable banter.

Sensing the opportunity, Barbara leaned back in her seat with a glint in her eye. "You know," she began, her voice laced with humour, "I suggest that you all drop your vices and take a hit of my drug of choice — J.E.S.U.S. Street name: Christ" she exclaims.

Melissa raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Uh, you've been known to demolish those little bottles of Chardonnay."

"And you snort that liquid marijuana." Barbara countered.

Their teasing sent you into a choke of laughter. Although amusing, their witty remarks settled a familiar ambiance you all appreciated.

As you sank deeper into the back seat, you found yourself stealing glances at Mel in the rearview mirror, unable to resist admiring her effortless beauty. It is unfair that one could look as good as Mel, while simply operating a motor vehicle.

Once you reached the hotel and the car was parked, you and Melissa unloaded the luggage, while Barbara went to the front desk to get your room keys.

When you walk into the hotel, you are met with a concerned-looking Barb, "It seems there's been a mix-up regarding the number of rooms booked, and unfortunately, there are only two rooms available."

In reality, this mix-up was not an accident–it was part of Barb's master plan to push you and Mel beyond the boundary of friendship. "Apologies for the mix-up, everyone. Now, how should we-"

"We can share," Melissa cuts her off while linking arms with you.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you exchanged a nervous glance with Melissa. "Yeah, of course."

"Perfect, it's settled then," Barbara handed you the room key and winked knowingly at the two of you before heading off to her room, leaving you and Melissa standing awkwardly in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Melissa with a hesitant smile. "So, I guess we're roommates for the weekend."

Melissa returned your smile, her expression softening. "Yeah, looks like it. Should be interesting."

As your shoulders lightly brushed against each other, you both navigated the hallway, tracing the numbered signs until your room came into view.

As you both stepped into the hotel room, a peculiar realization dawned upon you–there was only one bed. Your heart quickened as your gaze involuntarily shifted towards Melissa.

"So, uh, any preferences on who gets the bed?" you asked, attempting to ease the tension that hung in the air.

Melissa responded with a nonchalant shrug, "Well, there's only one, so I guess we'll have to share. No one wants to sleep on the floor, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you tried to play it cool. "Right, makes sense."

You were doomed.

Melissa broke the silence with a suggestion, "How about we head down to the pool and grab some drinks?"

"I'm in," you replied without hesitation. You knew a drink would be necessary to steady your nerves, especially with the prospect of sharing a bed with the woman you were in love with.

As you descended to the poolside, Barb was already there, greeting you both with a playful smirk adorning her lips. "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to join the party," she teased, raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

After taking a seat beside Barbara, a server approached with a tray of drinks. Melissa swiftly snagged a couple of Math-a-ritas, passing one to you with a wink.

"Here's to PECSA weekend," she declared, raising her glass in a toast.

You clinked your drink against hers, a grin spreading across your face. "To PECSA weekend."

After a couple of drinks in your system, tearing your eyes away from Melissa became an increasingly grueling task. Bathed in the golden hue of the sun, she seemed to exude an otherworldly allure, her features accentuated by the gentle light.

It was as if every glance only served to deepen the spell she unknowingly cast upon you. From the delicate way she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, to the infectious sound of her laughter, each moment spent in her presence seemed to send you further into the depths of your emotions. Melissa was more than just attractive; she was captivating, a force that left you unable to break free from the mesmerizing hold she had over you.

"Hey, you okay?" Mel asked, shaking you out of your trance with a hint of concern in her voice as she noticed your distant expression. She had caught you staring.

"Yeah, sorry about that," you replied, offering her a sheepish smile. "Just lost in thought for a moment."

Melissa grinned, her eyes laced with amusement. "Must have been some pretty deep thoughts," she teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You chuckled, as you felt a flush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. "Just admiring the view," you said, gesturing vaguely to the poolside surroundings.

Her laughter rang out, a melodic sound that filled the air. "Well, I can't say I blame you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation between the three of you, but eventually, the time came for you and Melissa to retire to your shared room for the evening.

After preparing for bed, you found yourselves lying side by side under the covers, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Despite the deepening connection between you, there was an unspoken understanding that crossing certain boundaries could jeopardize the precious bond you shared.

Something unbeknownst to you, however, beneath Melissa's tough exterior lay a secret longing for intimacy–a desire to break down the barriers between you and bask in the comfort of your embrace.

To your surprise, as you lay there, you felt Melissa's arm snake around your waist. This caused you to immediately tense up, your heart pounding in your ears as conflicting emotions engulfed you. On one hand, you've always wanted this—longed for the closeness and affection that Melissa's touch promised. But on the other hand, her unexpected move left you feeling confused and uncertain.

As Melissa's warmth seeped into your skin, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of her actions. Was Mel attracted to you? Or was this simply a gesture of platonic affection? The questions floated in your mind, but before you could voice your thoughts, Melissa shifted closer, her breath ghosting over your ear as she whispered softly, "Is this okay?"

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the tenderness in her voice melted away your doubts and fears. With a hesitant nod and a whispered "yes," you surrendered to her embrace, gently placing your hand atop hers, allowing the warmth and intimacy of the moment to envelop you.

As the night wore on, neither of you could sleep, your feelings occupying your minds and you couldn't take it anymore, in a moment of recklessness, you turned towards Mel so your chests were pressed against each other and your eyes locked. Your breath hitched as you lowered your gaze to her lips, savouring the sight of their softness, their allure drawing you in. When your eyes flick back to meet hers, you're met with dilated pupils, a silent invitation that ignited a firestorm of desire within you.

With a trembling hand, you slowly tangled your fingers into her fiery red hair, relishing the silky texture beneath your touch. Your heart pounded in your ears, the anticipation reaching a peak as you guided your mouths together with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Melissa tensed at the suddenness of your action, and for a split second, you feared you'd made a mistake.

"Mel, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" But before you could apologize, she surprised you by pulling you back to her lips with an urgency that matched your own. The kiss was warm and passionate. And as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of her lips, you realized that this is where you were always meant to be—wrapped in her arms.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Melissa confessed after you broke apart, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but smile, the weight of her words lifting a burden from your shoulders. "Me too," you admitted, your heart overflowing with emotion.

And as you lay together, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love that would last a lifetime.

The morning light filtered delicately through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon the tangled sheets where you and Melissa lay intertwined. With a contented sigh, you shifted closer to her, savouring the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against yours. As if stirred by your movement, her eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," you whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Morning," Mel murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she tightened her embrace around you.

For a fleeting moment, you lay there basking in the intimacy of the morning, the outside world fading into insignificance.

"I could stay like this forever," Mel confessed softly, her breath warm against your neck.

Your heart fluttered at her words, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"I mean... I wouldn't mind that" you admitted shyly, your lips grazing against her skin. "But we should probably get up soon," you chuckled, the reality of the day's plans creeping back into your consciousness. "Barb will likely be waiting to have breakfast before we head home."

"Yeah, I know," Mel sighed, reluctantly releasing you from her hold.

"But can we stay like this just a little while longer?" she groaned, her voice laden with desire, before drawing you into a kiss that ignited with a slow ecstasy. Your lips traced a path to Mel's neck, planting a series of tender kisses that culminated in a gentle bite, eliciting a whimper from her.

As she trailed kisses down your neck in response, a soft moan escaped your lips prompting her to shift her focus. She captured your mouth with hers, her tongue delving deep into your mouth. Your hand instinctively slid up her back beneath her shirt, caressing and exploring the warmth of her skin. It took every ounce of willpower to pull away from her at that moment. You stare at her, both of your breaths coming ragged as you met Mel's gaze, both of you wide-eyed and flushed with desire.

"Mel... it's time to go to brunch," you managed, your voice strained with longing. "I can guarantee you, there will be more of this later," you added with a suggestive nod toward the tousled sheets.

"Fine," Melissa huffs, playfully rolling her eyes, but a smile still plastered on her lips.

But before she could get out of bed, you grabbed her arm, "I'm glad this happened you know," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've seriously had my eyes on you since I started working at Abbott. I was losing it seeing you come into work every day looking so good and I had to pretend as if I didn't notice."

"Is that so... well, I'll be sure to give you something to notice next time we're at work," Mel smirks at you and smacks your ass as she untangles herself from you in favour of getting dressed.

Later, at brunch, Barbara's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her. Her gaze flicked between you and Melissa, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she noticed the telltale marks scattered across both of your necks.

"Looks like someone had a good night," she teased, her tone laced with amusement.

Confusion gave way to recognition as you noticed the purple bruises scattered across Mel's neck, and her eyes widened as she noticed similar marks on yours.

A silent understanding passed between the two of you as Melissa chuckled softly, leaning in closer to you as she reached for her coffee. "We may have gotten a little carried away," she admits with a wink.

Barbara laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Well, I'm glad to see you two are finally getting your act together," she says, her tone affectionate. "It's about time."

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #one bed trope #wlw #x reader

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f0point5 · 6 months

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Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist 2

Mr. Always Wins, so far above me in every sense - Max takes another win, and a disappointed Lando leans on Y/N

I see you every day now - Flashback to April 2020 when Max and Y/N first moved in together

All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride - Max’s podcast goes live, and Max and Y/N attend a wedding. Later, Y/N admits her frustrations to Daniel

I think he can see through everything but my heart - Max and Y/N vacation in Brazil, and Max covers Time magazine

So many things that you wish I knew, so many walls up, I can’t break through - Y/N goes to Sao Paolo to see Lando while Max heads to the UK. Meanwhile, Max opens up to Vic

This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less - Y/N and Lando take Las Vegas while Max is back in Europe. But both Y/N and Max keep tabs on each other through others

I can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body - Y/N attends Velocity Invitational with Lando, which stirs controversy on both sides of the pond

I can see you starin’ honey, like he’s just your understudy - It’s Lando’s birthday. In Europe, Max streams with Redline

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing…like any true love, it drives you crazy - Clara and Max arrive in Vegas and Clara lets Lando in on a well known secret

I don’t even dare to wish it - It’s Y/N’s birthday, but she has to deal with the fallout of Clara’s drunken confession

I think he knows - Y/N and her friends celebrate her birthday, which seems to give something to celebrate…or run from

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch - The Vegas circus begins with a dramatic opening ceremony, followed by a gala event

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night - Y/N and Max continue to miss each other, and the weekend gets off to a chaotic start on track

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick - Y/N attends Martin’s set and has a vulnerable moment with Max that goes awry

I’m capitulated by you,baby, like a firework show - Max wins in Las Vegas and Y/N puts aside the awkwardness to be happy for him

And that was the moment I knew - Max hosts Y/N’s birthday party, and gives her a huge present with unexpected results

Nothing safe is worth the drive - Max and Y/N have an open and honest conversation

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - Max and Y/N leave Las Vegas just in time

Meet me in the afterglow - Y/N and Max spend a day in the desert and Lando puts the pieces together thanks to fruit

We’re burned for better - Mick makes an announcement, and the world once again speculates about Y/N’s love life

When they point to the pictures - Bonus part of Y/N sharing past memories

Our daddies used to joke about the two of us - Max and Y/N have dinner with their fathers after a nervous FP1 for Max

May these memories break our fall - Bonus part where Y/N shared memories near the end of the season

What would you do, if they never found us out? - Rumours swirl about Max and Y/N…for the final time

We will be remembered - And with that, the 2023 season comes to an end

#masterlist

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m0nsterqzzz · 4 months

Text

✦ The Little Things ✦

pairing: kate bishop x gn!reader

summary: Kate loses the bracelet her loving partner made for her when they first started dating and panics maybe a bit more then she should

warnings: panic attacks, a little bit of cussing, mentions of killing ig?

a/n: so this is unimportant but i wanted to say that i really wanted to do this story as what happened when i got the inspo (my ex was panicking over losing the bracelet i made her when we were dating) but decided to go with the more fluffy version lol. enjoy kate being so adorable. also, i'm pretty sure i used they/them when i had to use pronouns so if theres anything other then that, let me know. and, I'm literally so terrible at writing endings so if you guys have any tips on how to end a fluff or angst oneshot, it would be greatly appreciated

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

When you wake up, you're wrapped in your girlfriend's arms. Kate just got home from spending the weekend with her mother, and apparently she got to the Compound while you were asleep last night. Your back is up against her front, and her hand is gently placed on an area of exposed skin on your hip.

You turn around on the bed, placing your head against Kate's chest. She stirs a bit, but seems to still be asleep as she moves a hand to cradle the back of your head.

Suddenly, the sound of harsh knocking on your bedroom door makes you both sit up, now very alert as you both look around. “Kate!” You hear Clint's voice from the other side of the door, and Kate smiles. You roll your eyes, laying back down and trying to pull her with you. She gets up off the bed, and you groan and hold her pillow close to you. She opens the door for Clint, and his eyes fall to you before going back to Kate. “We got a mission Bishop. Suit up.” That makes you sit up, and you glare at the bowman. “She just got back. Why do you hate me Barton?” He pretends to think about it for a moment before he shrugs and begins walking away. “I’ll go make you a list!” He calls over his shoulder, and you groan and let your face drop into the pillows again.

Clint Barton is your best friend. You met him through your father Tony, and he was instantly like an uncle to you the same way Natasha was like a mother to you. He was all you had when both your father and Natasha died, but that all changed when he introduced you to Kate.

You watch as she goes to the closet for her freshly clean suit, and then sheds her pajamas in order to get ready for the mission. She hums a tune as she does, and then goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair. You get out of bed and follow, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind as she brushes her teeth, still humming. The brunette leans into your arms, and you notice the humming to be of “Let's Get Married” by the Bleachers. You shouldn’t be surprised. She sings it to you at any chance.

She puts on her shoes- the tennis shoes Clint bought her after a long talk about how she cannot wear her purple converse while fighting bad guys- and then presses a small kiss to your nose. “You missed.” You playfully complain, and she chuckles before kissing your lips.

She's on her way to the door when she turns back around, and you're expecting a hug. Instead, she runs straight past you and to her nightstand. She grabs something off of it, and you notice it as the bracelet you made her a year ago. You had been nervous to give it to her, especially since it is something an eight year old could have made, but she just smiled brightly and put it around her right wrist. She never takes it off now, unless she's in the shower or sleeping. She says it is her good luck charm, and you feel happy that a bracelet with clay beads of different shades of purple that says, “My Katie” gives her good luck when she's out risking her life.

She gives you a small hug, and then kisses you on the lips before speeding out the door.

You sigh, an everlasting smile and blush on your face as you let your body fall backwards onto the bed. Todays your day off from missions, and it was supposed to be a you and Kate day so now that the Kate part of it is not here, you try to figure out what to do. You don’t know where the mission is, how long it’ll take, what the risks are, what time she’ll be back, hell you don’t even know what it’s for and you silently cuss out Clint in your head for not giving you details to settle your head.

As if on cue, you get a message.

bird brain 🏹:

Simple mission, take down a few guys and grab the intel from the lowest level of the building.

It’s not too dangerous as long as she doesn’t decide to pull a Kate and not listen to me.

We’ll be home in a few hours and you can take your lover girl back.

She’s already driving me crazy and we’re on the jet ride there.

Chill out and rest your mind kid.

I’ll keep her safe.

You smile. Even though Kate can sometimes forget to give you the details, Clint never fails to reassure you he’ll keep your girl safe.

With your mind now at slight peace, you get up and make your way down the hall to Wanda’s room. Today is her day off, also known as the perfect day to go bother her. After that, you go bother Fury, only leaving his office when he threatens to send you on a mission. By then it’s lunch, and you look to the clock, expecting to see that a few hours have passed.

So, Kate left at 9am.

And it is currently………11am.

You sigh, pulling out a pan and deciding to make the team breakfast. And by team, you mean you and Wanda.

Meanwhile, with Kate and Clint.

She fucking pulled a Kate.

Clint simply told her to keep guard by the doors while he grabbed the info and alert him if anyone showed. She did that for about 4 minutes.

She then saw a bird, a blue bird, and it made her think of you so she did the only understandable thing. Left her post and followed the bird all the way outside of the building. It’s only when she hears her partner's voice coming over the ear piece in her ear yell, “Where the hell are you Kate?!” does she run back to the building, seeing the man being beaten by a few guards. She grimaces, pulling out an arrow and lining it up with her bow. She shots one in the arm, and suddenly all the attention is on her as she widens her eyes. “Sorry dude!” She says loudly, backing up with a nervous chuckle. “Maybe we can talk this out right? How about we make a deal? You let my partner go, and we’ll walk away from this peacefully. Alright?”

Clint groans from the ground. “No! We will not!” He yells, sitting up and grabbing his own bow.

The guards are large and strong looking, but even strength like theirs can’t go against an arrow flying into their skull. He does that to the rest of them, and then takes a deep breath and glares at Kate. She rubs the back of her neck with a nervous smile. “So, now that that’s over……wanna grab some lunch or something?”

He scoffs, groaning in pain as he stands up. She knows she’s going to be barated on the way home. They begin the walk back to the quinjet, and Kate is half listening to his rant as she reaches her hand to play with the bracelet on her arm.

The moment Kate realizes her bracelet is no longer on her right wrist, she drops the bow and arrow on the ground.

Clint turns to look at her and hisses, “What the hell are you doing Bishop? Pick up your bow and let's go!” She barely hears him though, as she's too busy checking her pockets and then the pebbled floor underneath her. He seems to notice her panic, and his voice and face softens as he tries to ask her more calmly, “What's wrong Kate?” She mumbles something, shaking her head and then looking at the building they just left. “Did you leave something in there?” She isn’t listening anymore, but he gets his answer when she takes off towards the building. He sighs and follows.

She scans the floors of the halls, tears filling her eyes when she doesn’t see the purple beads anywhere. Her breathing is beginning to get faster, and Clint tries his best to get her to stop for a second and take a deep breath. She does stop, but it’s only because she realizes a sob and continues hyperventilating.

“Kate. Kate, look at me.” She does, and he panics even more when he sees the tears. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what needs fixing.” He attempts a chuckle. She tries her best to breathe, but between the sobbing and erratic breathing, she barely gets out a weak, “M-my bracelet.”

His eyes widen. He knows how much the jewelry means to her, having almost been shot by an arrow when he teasingly took it one day. He looks on both wrists and then the floor around them, still trying to calm her down. It might seem childish, but that bracelet is everything to Kate. When she has to do stuff like missions, or visiting her mom and she can’t take you (her person), the bracelet is the next best thing. You’re her anchor, but there are times in life where you can’t be there. So the bracelet is there. For her to fidget with, or hold close to her heart as if it’s her holding you close to her.

She leans up against the wall, letting her body slide down it as she hyperventilates. “I-I need it.” He nods, looking into her brown eyes and stating firmly, “I know katie. I know. And I know the bracelet is important but I need you to listen to me right now.” She looks up to his face, hand going to her chest to scratch at it as if it’s going to help her breath. He holds her hands in his own. “We’re gonna get on the quinjet, go home to see your partner, and you’re going to feel so much better. The bracelet is to remind you of them right?” She nods repeatedly. “Then we’ll take you to them. Just think about them Katie.”

He lifts her off of the floor, one of her arms over his shoulder as her legs wobble and she lets him help her walk to the jet. “It’s alright Kate. I’m here. It’s all gonna be alright.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Back home, you're eating ice cream in bed when your phone rings. It’s Clint, and you instantly perk up in excitement. “Hey birdman, are you guys on your way home?”

He sighs, looking at Kate who's now curled up in the corner of the quinjet, knees to her chest and mumbling this to herself. “It’s Kate.” In retrospect, he probably should've been more detailed and not used the sentence that people only use when someone they care about is seriously hurt.

“какого черта? Ты сказал, что защитишь ее! ты глупый, глупый человек! если она не выживет, я доберусь до тебя раньше, чем это сделает карма!” His eyes widen at your yelling and he holds the phone a bit away to protect his eardrum. “Now calm down kid, she just had a panic attack. She seems to be doing alright now but I just wanted to let you know so you can keep an eye on her when we get home in…..4 minutes.” You sigh, but there's still panic in you when you wonder what could have brought on a panic attack. “What brought it on?”

Translation: what the fuck? You said you would protect her! you stupid, stupid man! if she doesn't make it, I'll get to you before karma ever will!

It sounds like he’s speaking to someone, probably Kate, before he says, “She lost her bracelet.”

You take a minute to think about it before you begin to giggle. You're not laughing at her having a panic attack, it’s more of a “that’s adorable and sad at the same time” kind of giggle. “Okay. tell her I love her and I’ll see her soon.” You hang up and think for a minute before grabbing the clay beads from under your bed.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It doesn’t take that long to make, and by the time the quinjet is landing on the field outside of the compound, you have a bracelet that looks exactly like Kate’s old one.

You make your way outside, grinning at the sight of your girlfriend. She’s walking by herself now, her breathing has gone back to normal, and the only tears on her face are dry. You speed up, and you’re practically sprinting by the time you make it into her arms. She chuckles and holds you close, hiding her head in the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry my love.”

You giggle. “What’s there to be sorry for Katie?” She sighs, pulling away from you to lift up her sleeve and show her bare wrist. “I lost my bracelet.” She looks ready to cry again, so you pull her into another hug and cradle her head. “I know honey. But apologies are for when you’ve done something wrong.” You assure, but she’s not having it.

“But I lost the gift you gave me! One of my favorite gifts of all time! My lucky charm!” You sigh, flipping over the hand of hers that you’ve been holding so her palm is facing the sky and putting the new bracelet in it. “I made you a new one Katie. And this one can hold just as much love and luck if you want it to.” She grins, holding the bracelet close to her heart like she used to do with the other one as she asks, “You promise?” “Promise what?” “That it’s made with just as much love and luck as the first one?” You giggle and caress her face. “I promise Katie.”

Kate Bishop is a simple girl. Things like purple bracelets, pizza, dogs, and movie nights, will make the brunette happy for at least a week. So when you began dating, you made it your mission to involve at least one of those things in your guy’s daily lives so she could be the happiest she could be. Whether it’s replacing her favorite piece of jewelry, eating pizza three nights in a row, or having a movie night on your day off, watching whatever films she wants and stuffing yourselves full of candy. You’d do it all a million times over if it meant your girl would be happy. Because you know she’d do the same for you.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fluff

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rosewaterandivy · 7 months

Text

petrichor

a continuation of sugar & mint

summary: a summer friday feat. long lie-ins, a doting husband, and something unexpected

pairing: dad!steve x mom!reader

W.C.: 2390 K

warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking, cursing, pregnancy mention, my usual brand of filth (unprotected p-i-v, oral - m & f receiving, come eating)

a/n: disclaimer, i'm not a mom (unless you count my two pets)!! i am but a simple god mom to some feral babies, whom i adore. if pregnancy or mom!reader is not your vibe, i completely get it - i just couldn't get the thought of these two out of my head 🥹

🎵🎵 Oh, woe-oh-woah is me, the first time that you touched me 🎵🎵

pet·ri·chor /ˈpetrīˌkôr/ (noun)

definition: a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

Waking to the sound of rain falling steadily on the roof, you blearily pry an eye open to check the time. The sheets beside you on the bed are cool, Steve having made good on his promise to let you sleep in. The clock informs you of the late hour, 1 PM, as your stomach begs for sustenance.

Scrubbing a hand across your face, you roll over and rummage around for a shirt to cover throw on before trotting downstairs. Bub is off with her aunts for one final summer weekend, and there’s a slight chill in the air. Enough to warrant slipping on your husband’s discarded gray sweatshirt.

Aside from the rain against the eaves and windows, the house is silent. Grabbing your favorite mug from the cabinet, you busy yourself making a cup of coffee before you see the post-it stuck to the fridge.

Hope you got to sleep in, your majesty. Grabbing groceries in town, see you soon. xxx - Steve

Grabbing a cinnamon bagel and your coffee you settle in the window seat of the breakfast nook to watch the rain, free of distractions and responsibilities. It’s rare that you get a moment like this, no pressing deadlines, drop-off or pick-up lanes, hosting dinners for friends, or attending a birthday party.

Eyes following the drag of raindrops on the windowpane, your hand falls to the nearly imperceptible swell of your stomach. Early days yet, but you knew the signs: nausea, exhaustion, all the usual suspects. Finishing your coffee, you trekked upstairs in search of a rogue pregnancy test— would it have expired by now?

After checking the date and deeming it worthy, you took the test and checked the time. Deciding it best to go back downstairs to ease your anxiety, you settled back in the window seat with a second cup of coffee.

“Couldn’t find a shirt?”

He laughs, shaking off the water droplets like a dog in the foyer. “It wasn’t raining when I left,” Steve says, as if that’s explanation enough. Not that you’re necessarily complaining, his hair and skin damp, tank top doing fuck all being as soaked as it is. “And I couldn’t find my—”

Catching sight of his sweatshirt grazing the tops of your thighs he smiles. “Nevermind, looks better on you anyway.” He kicks the door closed, shoes squelching against the floor as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“Baaaabe,” you whine, catching a whiff of tobacco on him, “Please tell me you didn’t smoke in my car.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, sunglasses resting against the visor of his ball cap as he sets the tote bags on the counter. “Trader Joe’s was insane,” he says setting the keys on the counter, “It was an emergency cigarette, I swear.”

A roll of your eyes as you begin to put away the groceries. “If you bothered to wake me, I could’ve told you Trader Joes on a Friday was a bad idea.”

Steve quirks a brow in interest, grabbing a few items to shove in the freezer.

“Flower delivery is Friday, brings all the Lululemon moms to the yard.”

“Huh,” he grunts, “Explains all the spandex and lycra then.” Damp fingers trail against your thigh before wrapping an arm around your hip to draw you close. “Besides,” he breathes against your neck, “If I remember correctly, you requested to be left to sleep in.”

Failing to stifle a yawn, you eek out, “Because I’m fuckin’ exhausted, Harrington.” Setting your mug in the sink, you turn in his grasp and drape an arm across his shoulders. “Raising your daughter and dealing with your sorry ass.”

“Oh,” he pulls you closer, hips flush against one another, “So she’s my daughter now?”

“When she’s having sleep regression, yes.”

“Poor thing.”

“Yes,” you huff, “Me, I’m the poor thing because she insisted on crawling into our bed and kept kicking me in the ribs all night.”

“Hmm,” he hums, resting his chin against your head, “Explains the post-it stuck to my face this morning. ‘Help me Steve Harrington, you’re my only hope! Can you get Bub off to Aunt Nancy & Robin’s and please (for the love of god) let me sleep in? xxx —the love of your life & bearer of your child.”

“Hey,” you grouse into his chest, “I am clever and cute and you love me.”

Steve pulls back to get a better look at you— sleep mused, hair askew, barely dressed in a sweatshirt that had seen better days, and bare feet. He reaches down to link his fingers through yours. It feels so good, and warm, and you sigh almost contentedly.

“Course I do.” He takes a breath, “How could I not?”

“Steve Harrington,” you whisper against his lips, “You sweet talkin’ me?”

And with that, you crash your lips over his, sliding your tongue—sweet and heavy with promise into the space of his mouth.

He tastes like a stolen cigarette and coffee, cinnamon dancing on his tongue from the Big Red he’d swiped from the car. Kisses you slow and deep, easing you back against the counter. Chest pressed flush to yours, you let out an involuntary hiss.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

A shake of your head as your pepper his cheeks with kisses, bristles of five o’clock shadow catching against your lips.

“My tits just really hurt.”

“Huh,” he tuts, leaning back to look you over. “That’s uh… new.”

Quirking your brow, you level him with a look. “And how would you know?”

Steve’s lips curl in a slow smile, “I notice things.”

Glancing to the green numbers illuminated on the microwave, you grab his hand and make for the staircase. “Sure you do, big guy,” you toss over your shoulder playfully.

Settling him on the bed, you trot back into the en suite and return with the white plastic test in your hand. Handing it to him without fanfare, you watch as his face turns from one of mild curiosity to that of astonishment. Shock.

There was a cautious longing in your eyes and your face was measured. The air was weighted in silence, desire crystallizing as he leaned towards you, a pull he allowed himself to fall toward, closing the space between, choosing not to think, blocking out any hesitation and he was kissing you.

You were trying not to rush this, trying to savor this, slowly, carefully, tormented with the scent of his skin, all warm and washed linen, comfort laced in a simmering heat that he kept tempered somewhere deep within his soul.

Your face was cradled in his hands, pulling you closer, skin hot against palms, lips hotter still against his own when he realised the rain had stopped.

You crawl into his lap, straddle his waist, and his breath is punched out of his lungs in awe of your beauty. You undress him with deft fingers, yanking his clothes, hissing when he pulls away to peel the shirt off— as if not touching him pains you. The sweatshirt comes off— thrown carelessly landing somewhere on the floor— Steve revels in the exposure your chest—soft, heaving with love and agony.

Steve. Stevie. I love you. I love you. I love you so much.

Desperate, again.

You tug his hair, grip his chest and back, kiss him until his head spins. The bed creaks softly, as if it doesn’t want to interrupt the sounds that your bodies create together.

His kisses were deliberate towards one destination as his hands moved toward another, caressing you soft on the skin of your hips, slowly, sweetly up your sides and arching your back where you perched, a way to kiss you harder, reach you further to rediscover all his favorite parts of you.

The moan started low in your throat as he eased himself into you, sinking all the way to the hilt, delicious and easy, because he couldn’t wait and neither could you. You in all your love and splendor, always ready, always open for him, legs widening and gripping him as he began to move, slowly and agonizingly sweet.

Steve was trying to restrain himself, slow it down, revel in the feel of you, warm and wet and wonderful around him. He wanted to make it go slow, try not to lose himself through your soft sounds, the little breaths that told him the how, the when, the yes, please, right there, yes as you dissolved into moans that had him aching.

It was less deliberate now, more messy, a stuttered rhythm that had his legs feeling shaky, chasing his release, the push and pull of desire tightening, closer, hotter, tighter, and then an instant hardness that had him seeing stars, mouth tucked into the curve of your neck, your fingers threaded, gripping his locks, spilling feeling from his cock through your cunt.

He makes love to you, and even though he is bone tired from the hectic morning, he doesn’t feel it until you tremble in his arms and slump against his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat when he drew back to look at you, half-embarrassed, half a smile awash in his flushed face, hazel eyes full and wanting – utterly beautiful. Steve kissed your nose, your mouth, lingering sweetness on your lips, and you groaned as he picked you up, still buried inside you, his hands strong beneath your ass, fingers itching to trail the familiar paths of faded stretch marks. To praise the skin that grew to house you and your daughter, knew instinctively what to do, even if you were less than pleased with their sudden arrival.

Steve can’t help it - he loves your body for that, for keeping you and Bub safe. It’s something he won’t ever experience, but each time he happens to catch sight of you, pregnant or not, he can’t help but feel that he’s witnessing something sacred. Something holy.

The bed now, a comfort beneath your back, sheets scrambled beneath his palms as he balanced himself above you, then a stuttered breath as he slipped out, your muscles already missing the fullness of him. His pretty head moved lower now, your pretty hands still stroking through his pretty hair, sending pretty shivers through his spine.

The gasp was low in your throat when Steve pushed his fingers inside you, slow and agonizing, damp with you and him, all melded together and you almost winced when he dipped his mouth between your thighs, his tongue careful and deliberate, tasting you, tasting him, his mouth warm and licking you from core to clit.

This time, your legs were shaking, skin like fire and you were already too wound up, too high on just the feel on him, his hair brushing skin, beard soft on your thighs. Your fingers were fisted still through his hair, and god, he loved the way he knew how to drive you by the tension in your hands, the scrabbled grip through his locks as you got closer, more breathless, a groan and then an arch of toes before you were wrung out and writhing beneath him.

A clap of thunder sounded out as you collapsed, loose limbs and shivery skin as he came up to kiss you, shared joy and wonder, near awe that he could still bring you over the edge this way.

Steve's hair was something else now, wild and beautiful – definitely overdue for a trim and you were laughing now, face sparkling with glee.

“You look awful,” you told him, bringing your lips up to kiss him, all giggly with delight.

“Thank you,” he replied, nosing you close and drawing new breaths from your tongue as your hands drifted to the velvet skin beneath his thighs, working him slow and sweet.

“Oh, I will,” you answered, tempered smile in that face he adored so well, and shifted your body, drawing Steve onto his back as you dipped lower and he tried to hold the groan as you took him in your mouth.

He had to look away, some way to regather himself, the rushing blood through his skin, shooting straight to his cock, the warmth of your mouth on him, your tongue stroking him, the push and drag of your lips along that sensitive skin.

Steve focused on the feeling of you surrounding him, your warmth, your light, but even so, it was too much after a while and he had to change it, change the way you felt on him before he got too eager, too earnest. He lifted you, a giggle escaping your lips as you pulled off him with one last, deliberate drag of your mouth and this time, he couldn’t help the moan from his lips.

It was heaven, warm and sweet, when he pushed into you for the second time, your knees almost matched high at your chest, grazing your aching nipples as he found that special part of you that drew his most favorite sounds. You were keening, moving slowly together, trying not to lose control, trying to savor this for as long as you possibly could in this delicious bubble of time and space. _

Hours later and the pair of you had yet to leave the house. Rain pouring on and off throughout the afternoon and into the evening.

A tentative look at your belly, still smooth and firm. His hand finds the plane of it, fingers brushing the skin and over newly forming goosebumps. A surprising amount of excitement flutters in his own at the thought. It’d be good.

Steve insisted on throwing something together for dinner and made his way downstairs. He’s excited at the prospect of another baby, especially if they continued to take after you like Bub had. And she’d be adorable big sister, his heart swells at the thought.

He grabs the plates and heads back upstairs, the creak of the trick-step signalling his ascent. Nudging the door open with his hip, he pauses to take in the sight of you, and sets the plates on the nightstand.

Steve doesn’t know how someone can light up a room like you, just sitting there in his sweatshirt, doing nothing but smile. “Honey,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want to disturb the moment but can’t help himself. He just wants to see you looking at him.

“Yeah?” You turn your head ever so slightly, peek up under flared lashes— sleepy eyes struggling to stay awake— still sparkling. “What is it?”

“Honey, I love you.” Is all he can manage. Everything else seems to fade away.

And then you smile, a slow curling of your soft lips, cupid’s bow catching a moonbeam. You smile so sweetly his heart stops in his chest. The world comes rushing back with your tired sigh and your hand linking itself with his. One beat, two beats, steadily, heavily, his blood pulses again when you kiss his cheek and murmur,

“I love you, too.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #dad! steve harrington #Spotify

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 4] Sayo's Insistence

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Excuse me.” Sayo says, making you look up at her. You hold back on rolling your eyes, far too busy and tired to deal with anyone. You wait for her to speak, but she takes too long for your liking, so you end up asking,

“Can I help you?” You ask, trying your best to hide the annoyance in your voice but it still reflects. She luckily doesn’t notice it, or doesn’t care enough to address it. You don’t mean to be rude to her but so much is going on and you have no idea how to deal with it.

“I want to go out this weekend and get to know my husband’s friends a little more… Would you care to join us?” She offers, and you end up sighing before a fake smile appears on your lips. You end up shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m quite busy on weekends. Your mother-in-law keeps me busy.” You answer, and you hope that’s enough to keep her off your back. But it isn’t. She still stands at your desk and she ponders your responses for a moment.

“I’ll talk to her.” She responds, and before you insist that she shouldn’t, that you’re not in the mood to go out. If you get a day off, you’ll spend time with your son, certainly not with Satoru and his wife. You know that you’ll get a message from Mrs. Gojo later, and she’ll give you the day off.

“Mommy…” Ren taps your face to wake you up. His morning breath hits your nose. You scrunch your nose while your hand goes to cover his mouth as your eyes slowly open. You finally take your hand off his mouth when you sit up. You look at the clock that’s in the corner of your nightstand, and you’re definitely not late for anything. In fact, you don’t have to start getting ready yet. You have around three hours to go.

“What’s up, baby?” You ask him, your hand going to his soft white hair and caressing it.

“I’m hungry.” He informs you as a yawn leaves your lips. It causes him to yawn as well and you chuckle. You stand up from the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom. He begins to follow, which is something that you quickly got used to. The moment Ren began to walk, he followed you everywhere which meant you no longer had any sort of privacy.

“Brush your teeth.” You tell him pointing at the little stool that’s in front of the sink, which was put there to help him reach the sink. The tip of his tongue sticks out as he remembers to follow every step of what you’ve taught him: wet the brush, apply some toothpaste, wet the brush again, then smile as he brushes his teeth.

When you’re done, you wash your hands and when you finish washing your hands, he’s done brushing his teeth. He steps off the stool and patiently waits for you, sitting on the bathroom floor as you brush your teeth and quickly wash your face. You dry your face with a towel and then walk out the door, not saying anything because Ren just follows behind.

“What do you want to eat, Ren?” You ask him as you walk to the kitchen. You have more than enough time to make a big breakfast, so you can give him whatever he asks for.

“Waffles… and yogurt.” He answers. So you’ll give him that for breakfast, along with some fruit. You open the fridge to grab a cup of yogurt for him, so he can eat it while you prepare the rest of his breakfast. You give him a strawberry yogurt with a blue plastic spoon while you begin to make the rest of his breakfast.

“Do you want to do something fun this weekend, honey? I’m off this weekend.” You inform your son, and he puts a finger to his chin, pouting his lips. He begins to brainstorm what he wants to do instead of eating his breakfast. While he thinks about it, you try to think of how you’ll deal with Mrs. Gojo, Satoru, and Sayo. Mrs. Gojo didn’t give you the weekend off out of her goodwill; you’re not sure if the woman knows of that word.

“Can we go to the park?” He asks and you hum in response. He smiles brightly before he realizes something… He doesn’t know when it’ll all happen. “When’s the weekend?”

“In three days, Ren.” You respond, and after hearing the answer, he continues eating his yogurt. As you make the waffle mix, you hear your phone ring from the bedroom. You look at the boy who puts his spoon and yogurt down to run to the bedroom and grab your phone for you. You chuckle at the amazing helper that the world gave you. The phone stops ringing, and you assume that he picked it up, and it’s confirmed when you hear,

“Hello?... Hi grammy!... Mommy’s in the kitchen… Yes.” And then he comes running out of the room, holding your phone, yelling, “Mommy, grammy is on the phone.!”

You take the phone from him and bring it up to your ear. You roll your eyes when you hear her voice. “I need you to pick up some dry cleaning as soon as possible. I’m giving you the weekend off so I need you to come early these next two days.”

“Alright, Mrs. Gojo. I’ll be there as soon as Ren’s nanny gets here.” You answer before hanging up on her. You’re sure you’ll get an earful from her for hanging up instead of waiting for her to do so, but you don’t care. You call Ren’s nanny and inform her of the change of plans, and of course she replies quickly because two days ago she showed up late to her job; she has to make sure it never happens again. She’ll be there in around twenty minutes. “Okay, baby, I’ll have to leave soon.”

“What about my waffle?” He asks.

“Of course I’ll make you your waffle, honey. I can’t leave you without your desired breakfast.”

You walked through the Gojo estate’s front door, a frown on your face since your breakfast was cut short by Mrs. Gojo. You hate to admit the fact that you put in a little more effort this morning dressing up: putting on a little more makeup, wearing cuter heels and putting on your cutest work outfit.

After seeing Satoru and Sayo two days ago, you knew you wouldn’t bump into them again. You know Satoru is too much of a coward to go to your floor. Mrs. Gojo also had lessened your workload for her, and you completed everything during your lunch break, coming around at a time that you knew Satoru wouldn’t be around. But you’re certain that he’s here right now.

He’s probably in the backyard, eating breakfast with his mother and wife on the patio, just like when he was a kid. You remember always watching from a window as Satoru was forced each morning to eat breakfast with his mother and father– He always complained to you about it because he had to follow a bunch of dumb rules about eating properly.

You walk to the kitchen of the house, planning to leave the dry cleaning with one of the maids before leaving. You dressed up pretty just in case you saw Satoru, however, you don’t plan on interacting with him. And just as you’re about to hand the dress to someone, she says,

“Mrs. Gojo wants you to go to the backyard. She wants to talk to you.”

“Alright.” You shut your eyes for a moment before walking away. A sigh leaves your lips, and your nerves grow with each step you take. You try to think of what you’re going to say. You quickly spot them when you step outside, and you freeze. You squint as you look at their direction as you try to figure out if the extra person that sits with them is the same man that was Satoru’s best friend for years.

He yells your name and stands up to hug you when you get closer, and a small smile, one that you try to suppress, comes to your lips when you feel Suguru’s arms wrap around you. Suguru was always so sweet to you, and it’s nice to see him again after so many years; and his demeanor hasn’t changed either which you love. He asks, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’m good. How about you? Are you a doctor now?” You respond, and he nods in response. You stare at each other for a moment, looking at how time and age has changed you. Mrs. Gojo clears her throat a minute later.

“Suguru is finishing his residency soon. That’s what he told us.” Sayo speaks up, and Suguru takes a seat again. “Please take a seat as well. I asked my mother-in-law to invite you.”

“I already had breakfast, sorry.” You lie. You’re hungry but you don’t want to sit down with them and eat. “I should get–”

“It’s way too early to go to the office.” Mrs. Gojo cuts you off. You glare at her for a short moment before your eyes fall on Suguru because you don’t want to look at anyone else.

“You know what they say, Mrs. Gojo, the early bird gets the worm.” You respond. Sayo, Suguru and Mrs. Gojo stare at you while Satoru tries to look somewhere else. He makes it painfully obvious that something has happened between you two but thankfully his wife is so focused on other trivial matters to notice just how awkward he is.

“There’s no worm for you to catch here. Join us.” She says and it’s an order even though she tries to disguise it as a request. You have no option but to sit at the table. “Are you joining Satoru and his friends this weekend?”

“I’m busy.” You answer. The past couple of days you’ve realized that you somewhat have part of the upper hand. If Satoru finds out that his son was hidden per his mother’s request, he’ll definitely cut her off. However, you know you aren’t in full control. You still have to follow Mrs. Gojo’s orders, but you don’t have to act like you’re happy to do it. You can give her some attitude.

“Really? I gave you the weekend off.” She points out.

“Ren needs attention.” You respond, and Suguru’s eyebrows raise.

“Who’s Ren?” Suguru interrupts.

“A cat.” You answer, and Mrs. Gojo is thankful about the fact that you spoke up first because she was about to call him a dog. Suguru is still a bit confused but he ends up nodding.

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to your cat, but it’d be really fun if you’d join us.” Suguru says, and Sayo is quick to agree.

“I really want to see all of my husband’s childhood friends. I really want you to join us.” Sayo sounds so sweet, and she’s making it impossible for you to dislike her. “Isn’t that right, Satoru?”

“Right…” Satoru is forced to speak up and agree. He actually speaks more, which takes you by surprise, “We’re just going out to dinner and after we’re going to a club. You can join us only to eat… Of course, we’re paying for everything.”

The last sentence stings. He’s insinuating that you can’t afford it, and he probably isn’t wrong but you hate it.

“She’s going, honey. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Gojo puts on a fake smile, her hand wrapping around your arm and squeezing. You don’t understand why she insists, having you go out with Satoru and his wife increases the possibility of them finding out the truth.

You want to say a couple of things, but you know it won’t end well. You end up sighing, before you stand up from your seat, “I have to go now.”

“Why doesn’t she like you? Weren’t you two friends?” Sayo half-whispers when you walk away. Satoru ends up shrugging while Suguru chuckles after hearing the question. She sees Suguru laugh and she asks, “Do you know?”

“No idea.” Suguru responds. After a moment of incredible awkwardness, Satoru clears his throat.

“Let’s change the topic.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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phillydilly · 8 months

Text

Unexpected beginnings

⊹♡— in which she falls pregnant, and the father is her brother’s teammate

Charles Leclerc x Sainz!fem!reader

Warnings: angst (?), pregnancy, sexual illusions

I wake up one morning, feeling a strange sense of unease. My thoughts drift back to that one reckless night a few weeks ago when I had a brief encounter with Charles, my brother Carlos' teammates. The memory is a blur, but now a growing suspicion gnaws at me.

As the days pass, my body starts to exhibit unusual signs. The nagging nausea, the inexplicable exhaustion—these aren't normal for me. Panic sets in, and I decide to take a pregnancy test.

In the small bathroom, trembling hands clutching the test stick, I wait for those critical moments. Time seems to stand still. A faint blue line appears, and my heart sinks. I take a deep breath, hoping for a negative result, but it's undeniably positive.

Tears well up in my eyes as reality crashes down. The child I'm carrying belongs to Charles, Carlos' teammate, and is bound to turn our lives upside down. My mind races with questions, guilt, and confusion. How could I have been so careless? How will Carlos react when he finds out? How can we navigate this tangled web of secrets and lies?

I'm left with an overwhelming mix of emotions—fear, regret, and an impending sense of chaos. The one-night stand that brought me here is now a life-changing event that will forever bind our lives in ways we could never have anticipated.

I'm nervous, scared, and unsure of how to break the news to Charles.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

I make the decision to join Carlos for the race in Singapore this weekend, not necessarily in support of him, although I’ll do that anyways, but more so because I need to tell Charles, and this is the easiest way to get to him.

I stand outside Charles’ hotel room, my heart pounding in my chest. It's a chilly evening, and the dimly lit corridor seems to close in around me. This is it, I think to myself. I take a deep breath, then raise my hand to knock on the door. Charles, is behind that door, and I have to tell him I’m carrying his baby.

After a moment, the door swings open, and Charles's surprised expression quickly shifts to one of recognition. "Hey, y/n, what brings you here?" he asks, a friendly smile on his face.

"Can we talk, Charles? It's kind of urgent," I reply, trying to sound as composed as possible.

He furrows his brow, sensing the seriousness in my voice, and steps back, allowing me to enter the room. I take a seat on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with my hands. Charles closes the door and sits down across from me.

"What's going on? You look really worried," he says, concern evident in his eyes.

I take another deep breath and look directly into his eyes. "Charles, we need to talk about that night," I begin, my voice trembling slightly.

His face turns serious as he remembers the night we shared together not so long ago. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it too," he admits, his gaze dropping to his hands.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Charles, I'm pregnant," I blurt out, unable to meet his eyes.

His head shoots up, his eyes wide with shock. "Pregnant?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, tears welling up in my eyes. "Yes, and it’s yours."

Charles's shock turns into a mix of emotions: surprise, concern, and then something unexpected. A glint of excitement sparks in his eyes. "Wow, I-I'm going to be a dad?" he says, his voice filled with wonder.

I can't help but share in his excitement, and for a moment, our faces light up with the prospect of parenthood. "Yes, Charles, we're going to be parents," I reply, a genuine smile breaking through.

But the excitement fades as quickly as it appeared when the reality of the situation hits us both. "Carlos is going to be furious," I say, expression turning serious once more.

He reaches out and takes my hand, a look of genuine care in his eyes. "Hey, no matter what, I'm here for you and our baby. We'll figure this out together, even if it won't be easy."

We sit there in silence, hands still entwined, as the weight of the situation settles in. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions and the challenges ahead, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope in the warmth of Charles's gaze and the promise of a shared journey into parenthood.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

In the days that follow, we share moments of vulnerability and affection. After finding out about the pregnancy, we sit together, our hearts heavy with the weight of this newfound responsibility. Then, one evening, as we're sitting on the couch, he leans in and kisses me softly. It's our first kiss since discovering that we're going to be parents, and it's filled with a mixture of emotions—love, fear, and hope.

"I love you," Charles whispers against my lips, making my heart swell with affection. It's a profound moment, and we hold each other close, cherishing the newfound depth of our connection.

As we continue to navigate the complexities of impending parenthood, our bond grows stronger. We find solace in each other's company, often staying up late into the night, sharing our dreams and concerns.

One evening, after a particularly heartfelt conversation about our hopes for the future, I turn to Charles with a smile. "I can't believe how lucky we are to have each other," I say, my eyes filled with gratitude.

Charles nods, his expression reflecting my sentiments. "I know. I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else but you."

Our hands find each other's, fingers entwining as if seeking reassurance in this journey. "It's scary, you know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm starting to feel excited about becoming parents."

Charles chuckles softly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of my hand. "Me too. And I promise, we'll figure it out together."

Charles turns his gaze toward the horizon, his eyes distant yet thoughtful. "You know," he begins, "I've been thinking about what kind of parents we'll be."

I look at him with curiosity, intrigued by his musings. "What do you mean?"

He smiles, his eyes meeting mine again. "I mean, we have our hopes and dreams, but it's also about how we'll support and love our child, no matter what. That's what truly matters."

I nod in agreement, touched by his sincerity. "You're right. Our love and commitment to each other, and to our future child, will guide us through."

The breeze continues to sway the leaves, and you both feel a sense of unity and purpose in this quiet moment together, ready to embrace the journey ahead.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As the pregnancy progresses, Charles and I attend a crucial doctor's appointment together. We sit side by side in the examination room, holding hands, and listening to the doctor's words with bated breath.

As the ultrasound begins, the room fills with the rhythmic sound of our baby's heartbeat. Charles watches the screen intently, his hand gripping mine.

"There it is," Dr. Anderson says, pointing at the tiny, flickering image. "Your baby's heart is strong."

Charles squeezes my hand, his eyes shining with emotion. "That's our baby," he whispers.

As the doctor continues the examination, we ask questions about the pregnancy and what lies ahead. Charles is eager to learn everything he can, showing his genuine concern.

"So, when can we find out the gender?" he asks.

Dr. Anderson smiles. "Typically, we can determine the gender during the next appointment in a few weeks. Would you like to know?"

Charles and I exchange glances, and I nod. "Yes, we'd like to know."

After the appointment, as we walk out of the clinic, Charles turns to me with a gentle smile. "I'm here for you, every step of the way."

I feel a surge of gratitude for this kind-hearted man who has stepped into my life during this challenging time. "I love you so much."

With that, we head home, our hearts brimming with anticipation for the arrival of our little one. Though we aren't officially a couple, we both know that this unexpected journey has already brought us closer together.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

I nervously fidget with my hands as I wait for Carlos to arrive. I had called him and asked him to come over, as Charles and I decided that it wouldn’t be right to hide the pregnancy from him any longer. He was my brother after all, and we had always been close, so I wanted him to be with me during my first pregnancy.

I knew that the news I had to share with him wouldn't be an easy pill for him to swallow, but it had to be said. I just hoped that he would understand and support Charles and I.

As soon as Carlos walks through the front door, I take a deep breath and prepare to tell him what has been weighing heavily on my heart for weeks now.

"Carlos, we need to talk to you about something," I say, my voice trembling slightly.

He raises an eyebrow, looking at us cautiously. "What is it?"

"I'm pregnant," I say simply, bracing myself for his reaction.

Carlos' face contorts with anger as he takes a step back. "What? Whose baby is it?"

"It's Charles' baby," I admit, my eyes downcast.

Carlos' fists clench at his sides, and he takes a deep breath before spitting out, "I can't believe you would do this to me, Charles is my teammate yes, but he’s also my friend. Do you know what you’ve done? This could ruin everything!"

"I really am so sorry, Carlos," I say, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. "We didn't plan for this to happen. It just did."

Carlos rolls his eyes. "Right. Because that's a valid excuse. I can't even look at you right now."

The hurt in his voice is palpable, and I can't help but feel like I've let him down. "Please, Carlos. I need your support right now, not your anger."

He shakes his head, scoffing at me. "Support? How am I supposed to support this? Do you even care about me at all?"

I can't hold back the tears anymore, and I break down, sobs wracking my whole body. "I do care about you, Carlos. But this just happened. And I can't change it, I wouldn’t want to change it. I'm sorry."

Silence falls over the room as Carlos stares down at me, his expression still angry and hurt. But then Charles steps in, placing a comforting hand on my back and speaking up.

"Carlos, you need to calm down. She's carrying my baby, yes. But that doesn't change how much she cares about you. And it certainly doesn't warrant you insulting our relationship."

Charles' words seem to snap Carlos out of his angry stupor, and he takes a deep breath before turning to leave. "I need to get out of here. I can't deal with this right now."

As soon as the door closes behind him, Charles pulls me into a tight hug, rubbing circles on my back to soothe me.

"I'm sorry he reacted that way," he murmurs into my hair. "But I'm here for you, and I'll make sure you're okay."

His words are a balm to my heart, and I cling to him, grateful for his support and understanding. Together, we'll get through this, no matter what anyone else thinks.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Weeks later, you get a knock on your door taht catches you by surprise. You aren’t expecting anyone, and one look at Charles tells you he isn’t either.

“I’ll get it,” you declare. Charles nods and follows you to the entrance, where Carlos stands shifting his weight from foot to foot. His face is a mix of remorse and stubbornness.

"Hey," you say tentatively.

Carlos looks at you and then at Charles, his eyes filled with regret. "I... I'm sorry," he mumbles.

Charles folds his arms across his chest, his expression stern. "You should be. What you said was out of line."

Carlos sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I know. I messed up, okay? I was just shocked, and I reacted poorly. Can we talk about this?"

You all move to the living room, settling onto the couch and chairs. You take a deep breath. "Carlos, we understand that you were surprised. But your reaction was hurtful. We wanted you to be a part of this journey with us."

Carlos runs a hand through his hair, a guilty look on his face. "I know, and I regret how I acted. I've been thinking about it a lot since our argument. I just didn't expect this, and it took me by surprise."

Charles softens his gaze, but his tone remains firm. "We're not asking you to be thrilled about it, Carlos. But we need your support. This is a big deal for us, and we want you to be a part of our child's life."

Carlos nods, his eyes brimming with tears. "I want to be there for you, for you too, Charles. I'm just scared, you know? Scared for both of you."

You reach out and take Carlos's hand. "We're scared too, Carlos. But we're also excited and determined. We love each other, and we're committed to making this work."

Charles uncrosses his arms and leans forward. "Carlos, we're not expecting you to have all the answers or to be perfect. But we need you on our side. Can you be there for us?"

Carlos wipes away a tear and nods vigorously. "Yes, yes, I can. I want to be there. I want to be an uncle to your child."

You smile through your own tears and squeeze Carlos's hand. "Thank you, Carlos. That means the world to us."

Over the next few hours, you talk, laugh, and even shed a few more tears. It isn't a perfect reconciliation, but it's a genuine one. You, Charles, and Carlos know that there will still be challenges ahead, but you're determined to face them together, as a family.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The day of the birth arrives, and it's a long and emotional journey. Charles is by my side, holding my hand, and offering words of encouragement throughout the labor. The pain, the fear, and the exhaustion all seem worth it when we finally hold our baby boy, Matteo, in our arms.

Tears fill Charles' eyes as he cradles our son for the first time. "He's perfect," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

Our love story has been one of challenges, growth, and newfound depths. But as we gaze at our precious son, we know that every moment, every tear, and every obstacle we've faced has led us to this beautiful, heartwarming beginning as a family.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x you

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flemingsfreckles · 2 months

Text

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #canxnt #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine

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cinnamokittykat · 5 months

Text

A Regular Day at Home (after deployment)

(NSFW) Chubby! Fem! Reader x Doghybrid! König

Summary: You spend a day with a whiny, desperate doghybrid!König.

Tags: Breeding, mild femdom?, hybrid, cunnilingus, whiny male, cuddling, writer is inexperienced with this type of writing. 2k words

DogHybrid! König who you wake up in your big bed with. He may be a big wolf-dog-man-thing, but he still somehow manages to comfortably nuzzle into your neck to bask in your scent. His big, burly arms wrap around your waist, trapping you there until he's ready to get up.

DogHybrid! König who's with you on the weekend, he's off-base for the next few weeks and intends to make up for all the time away from you as a K-9 unit.

Eventually, you manage to wiggle away and make coffee/tea. It doesn't take long for him to wake up and follow you. He whines and pouts for a moment since you left him, but stops when he smells you cooking.

DogHybrid! König who kneels so you can ruffle his long, curly hair and scratch his perky ears. He lays his head on the fat of your hip while you stand over the stove. As you move away from him to grab plates, you feel his hands on your leg, and his sharp teeth softly digging into your pants leg, punctuated with a whine. You stare at him disapprovingly, and he lets go, explaining himself away with "I missed you..."

You sit down to eat together, him insisting that you two are on the couch so he can cuddle you. After you eat, he settles his head on your chest, and his body between your legs as you watch a show together. His tail wags under the blanket, making it move back and forth.

"Y/N, I missed you so much on missions, I want to spend infinite time laying on your soft body... you smell so nice..." He muttered, hair tickling your chin as he began kissing your neck. "König, you can tell me what you want, you know that right?" You tease, giggling as he presses his lips to your collarbone. "It's been weeks... my scent probably faded on you by now..." He continued. You smile and expose your neck more, and he takes the opportunity, rubbing his face on your neck before biting and sucking on your flesh.

Despite the slight pain, you feel relaxed. What's a few more hours of sleep? König wouldn't mind, he would sleep on you forever if he could. The couch was just so nice and warm, and your dog boy was basically a heated blanket...

DogHybrid! König who nudges you awake an hour later, big puppy-dog eyes begging you for something, you aren't sure what in your sleep-addled state. "I know that look, what do you need? You've been good, I'm sure you deserve it." Your dog boy buries his face in your chest out of shyness, and whimpers. "What's wrong?" You urge. Wordlessly, he pulls your hand down and softly rolls his hips forward. You meet his gaze as you feel the already-formed stiffness in his sweatpants, in tandem with a small wet spot that begins to form.

DogHybrid! König protests as you tell him that you have to finish something work-related first, but ultimately he lets you go to your computer, knowing that keeping you there will most definitely not get him anything. He wants to be your good boy, and sometimes it requires patience.

DogHybrid! König who despite promising to not bother you, can't keep himself entertained for long. Not when his erection is getting increasingly more sensitive as time passes. He opens the door to your shared room, listening to make sure you aren't on call.

You don't notice him at first, too entranced with your work until your hybrid parts your thighs with his head. "What are you-" he cuts you off "If I can't mark you now, can I at least please you?" You fake hesitation in a bid to frustrate your hybrid. In response, he places his hands on the waistband of your shorts, a high-pitched whimper emitting from his throat, eyes pleading with you.

DogHybrid! König nearly pulling you off the bed with your shorts the second you utter the words "Ok, I suppose you can..." Immediately, his tongue is exploring your folds and he's eating you like a man starved. "Sweet boy, you waited so long for this didn't you?" You mused while carding his hair with your fingers. His fluffy tail thwacked back and forth with reckless abandon. "Mhmm..." He isn't really paying attention, too busy going from concentrating on your clit to lapping up the juices leaking from your hole.

DogHybrid! König diligently continuing to lap at your heat while you keep typing away. The feeling of his wet tongue along with your thighs having something to squeeze between them brings a feeling of relaxation difficult to recreate with other means. After you finish your document, you lay back to enjoy the sensation.

DogHybrid! König who upon realizing you aren't having the bed-shaking reactions he hoped for, increases the pressure of his tongue on your clit and the speed at which he's eating you out. His huge hands grip your plush thighs as he buries his face in your pussy. It isn't long before you feel the pleasure creeping up on you. You instinctively grip his hair, pushing his head down a bit. As your orgasm takes control of you, you cry out and almost suffocate König between your thighs while he carries you through it.

DogHybrid! König shifting his face downwards as your orgasm cools down to focus on your hole as it clenches on nothing, your cum dripping out as it does. His tongue swipes in and out and around, swallowing everything. Like a "G... good... boy..." You say, out of breath. Immediately his ears perk up, and he rises from the floor to get on the bed with you. "Are you finally down with your work? My... It's starting to hurt..." He stares at you, longing in his pretty eyes. "Bitte..." He whines lowly. There is now a more prominent wet spot on the front of his sweatpants.

You smile, loving seeing him in his most desperate state outside out of a rut. "Hmmm, your tongue made me feel wonderful, but I'm just not sure I can get over how pathetic it was that you couldn't wait for an hour before you had to have your face in between my thighs."

DogHybrid! König whose ears flatten to his head. It stings to be called pathetic. He wasn't pathetic, he was your strong, scary but ultimately good and obedient boy. With a swift motion, he jumped on the bed, climbing on top of you. "I am not pathetic!" König exclaimed, muffled by him burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Am I not allowed to miss my mistress?" The feeling of teeth grazing your neck grew more intense as your dog-boy searched for a place to mark. "Oh, my sweet sweet puppy, I'm just messing with you, you know that?" He huffs in response and paws at your soft chest, squeezing your breasts somewhat aggressively. "You're my wonderful, strong, obedient, and very handsome man."

Emboldened, DogHybrid! König nearly rips your shirt off. Of course, you aren't wearing a bra as it's your own home, and it reflects in the goofy, adorable smile on your dog boy's face. You cup them both, urging him out of his temporary trance. He remembers where he is and starts playing with your tits, kissing you hungrily.

You kiss him back, palming his bulge through his boxers. In response, he ruts into your palm, cock twitching and leaking. Little whimpers coming from his throat are almost artful. He pulls his boxers down, and his cock springs out, brushing against your soft stomach.

DogHybrid! König positions himself between your legs, length dragging against your pussy for a moment, before prodding your entrance with the tip. You grab his jaw to get his attention, forcing him to look at you. "Be a good boy for me just a bit longer, will you? Lay on your back." You coo. Eager to please, he lays on his back dutifully while you straddle him.

You knew that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in you, but that wasn't your problem. If anything, you were doing him a favor by teasing him, right? It makes the result more rewarding. You tease him with your slick folds rubbing on the underside of his cock. He meets you with thrusting hips, his head pressed into the pillow from pleasure. Your orgasm almost reaches you for a second time, but an unfortunately timed thrust has his tip far inside your tight walls.

A whoreish moan erupts from König's throat as he holds your hips still with a vice-like grip to not come immediately. You would surely have bruises later, but what did it matter?

DogHybrid! König who is finally overtaken with more primal base instincts, flips you both over so you're under him once again and at his mercy. You thank the heavens that you were already wet, the stretch still burning a bit as he slowly bottomed out within you.

The sounds of skin slapping together and your moans fill the room, soon accompanied by ones from the dog-boy on top of you. His hands were all over you, savoring the body he missed on his last deployment. You share the occasional passionate kiss, but König is focused on scenting and marking you in any way possible. After all the time spent away from each other, countless calls and texts, and nights spent alone, being in bed reunited could not be more rewarding. His dog tags glinted on the nightstand next to you.

You'll be surprised if you can even walk properly tomorrow, the way your hybrid is abusing your cunt. His hips slam into yours, your ass and thighs taking the brunt of the trauma. The room is full of the smell of sex.

All of a sudden, König's moans change to growls, and he sinks his teeth into your neck just enough to break the skin. His pace speeds up drastically. "pleasepleaseplease let me come inside, bitte you feel so fucking good, schiesse, please, I'll be... such a good mate!" You look at him while your walls tighten "Are you asking me to let you breed me?" You ask, feigning innocence. "Wanna see you full of my pups..." He growls out, eyes rolling back in his head.

You let out a scream as your orgasm overtakes you, an explosion of heat throughout your body has your legs wrapped around his waist and your pussy clamping down on him. He isn't far behind either, and his lover moaning his name would not spare him.

DogHybrid! König's hips stutter and press flush to your body. "I'll take care of you, I promise (y/n)... I'll be so good for you!" He cries out as ropes of cum spill inside of you. You shakingly hold the back of his head with one hand and rub his ears, the other hand he gripped firmly, your fingers tiny next to his.

You catch your breath together, he having settled over top of you just enough so you could feel his weight but not enough to crush you. "Are you sure you aren't in a rut, sweet boy?" You tease. "If I was, you wouldn't have gotten any work done." He replies. "Either way, you want to tell me what you meant by 'a good mate'?" You press, shifting out from under him to clean up. This was met with much resistance.

DogHybrid! König who immediately pulls you onto his chest and earns a yelp of surprise from you. His strong arms keep you flush against his torso as he whines and breathes in your scent. "Don't leave, (y/n)." You concede and lay your head in the crook of his neck. "After belonging to you for so long, seeing how well you take care of me, it's been near torture for me to not see you pregnant with our pups... if you would allow that even..."

You sigh and roll over to face him. "I think that sounds wonderful." You smile and share one more kiss with him before you both eventually go to clean each other up.

#konig #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig modern warfare #konig fanfiction #cod x you #hybrid #chubby reader #dog hybrid #DogHybrid!Konig

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heliads · 2 years

Note

Okay so here come the Enola Holmes requests; hear me out, Tewksbury best friends to lovers where the reader makes things out of paper and tries to teach Tewksbury how to make paper flowers when he asks. He SUCKS at it, but he's head over heels for her and so he spends hours alone practicing and he makes her this cute bouquet out of newspaper and maybe it has like a little love confession note or something in it idk idk but my brain is in overdrive rn

YES this idea is literally the cutest thing ever to me, hope i did it justice!

masterlist

Tewkesbury doesn’t know that he’s lost until he sees her. It’s been too long since he’s been able to get away like this, trade off the drama of the House of Lords and every rule he’s expected to follow for the actual thrills of life. It may be his destiny to grow so deeply entrenched in politics that he stops seeing the difference between his working life and the rest of his waking one, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Needless to say, the second he was able to skive off another day spent around the members of Parliament, Tewkesbury did so with a flourish. He could think of nothing better than tracking down his best friend and spending the rest of the weekend annoying her without pause, but now that he’s actually here, he finds himself coming up short. It was supposed to be nothing out of the ordinary, these couple of days away, but yet when Tewkesbury stares at the girl who’s been like a sister all of these years, he suddenly wishes that connection would disappear in his head forever.

The problem is that the girl who looks up at him with a smile when she sees him looks different somehow, as if spending a mere month or two out of her company has been enough to completely rewrite Tewkesbury’s entire mental picture of her. Do her eyes always shine like that when she sees him, or is that new? Has he always wanted to smile like mad whenever they’re together, or is that the lingering affection of some new affliction Tewkesbury doesn’t think he could name if he tried?

It shakes him to the core, this sudden feeling. One moment, he’s rounding the corner to meet up with a friend, just that, and then he’s looking at this girl and all he can think about is that he never wants to leave her side again. Politics can go to hell without him. Tewkesbury only has an excuse to leave the government buildings for this weekend, but he wishes it could be forever.

He doesn’t have all of eternity to ponder this, though. Y/N L/N races up to him when their eyes meet, and then he’s standing before her, breathless and wondering how on earth he is supposed to go about as if nothing has changed when he’s pretty sure that every possible thing has.

Y/N, however, seems utterly devoid of the miraculous transformation currently wreaking havoc in between Tewkesbury’s ribs. “It’s wonderful to see you,” she beams, “I was beginning to think that you’d gone ahead and moved into the Palace of Westminster forever. I haven’t seen you in years.”

Tewkesbury finds it within himself to scoff at this blatant lie. “That’s absurd. I saw you not seven weeks ago.”

Y/N arches a disbelieving brow. “Yes, seven weeks ago. That’s a perfectly ordinary time to go without visiting your best friend even once, you traitor.”

Tewkesbury clasps a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Cruel. I have never once been a traitor to you.”

He doesn’t know that he could, now. He can’t imagine a world in which he is not following her around, either in endless loops around the London streets or in constant cycles of daydreams in which Tewkesbury is able to put an actual name to the emotions currently driving him mad.

Y/N grins. “I’m glad to hear it. I was worried for a second there, you know.”

“No you weren’t,” Tewkesbury laughs.

“Perhaps not,” Y/N says with an elaborate shrug, “but I like to keep you on your toes. It makes for a more dramatic weekend if we’re both slinging accusations left and right.”

“Not as fun, though,” he argues.

Y/N concedes this point through a solemn nod. “No, not as fun. I’ve never had to worry about fun with you, though.”

She looks up at him with a smile, and Tewkesbury thinks that his heart might explode out of his chest. He wants to say something, needs to say something, but all he can manage is–

“You know what would be fun? If you showed me how to make those paper crafts. I know you can do it, I’ve seen you make tons of stuff from paper before. It’s really cool, and I missed seeing you do it. I missed–”

He cuts off the hopeless flood of words before he can say something incriminating like that he missed her, but Tewkesbury gets the feeling that he’s already said too much. Also too little at the same time; Y/N promises him that they’ll get to make the paper shapes as requested, but he swears her face drops a little, like she could sense that there was something Tewkesbury was trying to say but just couldn’t manage. He wants to try again, but the words choke up his throat and he can’t get out a single syllable.

Instead, he contents himself with watching Y/N as they walk, how the sun dapples her skin with endless patterns of gold. He watches as they leave the streets as well, once they head for Y/N’s house down the block. Tewkesbury pushes the door open; it’s always been more of his home than any other corner or annex of his family place. This is where he feels at peace, and although he’s always thought that was just what came with finding a friend like Y/N, he’s starting to think that it could be more. That maybe they could be more.

It is a false hope, however, and one that will only serve to make him bleed, to rob the happiness from his chest whenever Tewkesbury looks over and sees Y/N. They are friends, compatriots, brethren in a war that all young children grown old must face at some point. Never have they been closer, and never has he wished that they could be closer still.

He’s caught staring as they head up the stairs, and he looks away hastily although the damage is done. Y/N laughs at the blush forming on his cheeks. Although Tewkesbury reacts by habit and shoves her with an outstretched, playful arm, he can’t seem to stop his hand from lingering there on her shoulder, fingers reaching as if to pluck some sort of love out of her through willpower alone.

He finds it not, though, and is forced to stay satisfied with smiling to himself and wondering if the rest of his life will be like this, just watching and hoping for a happy ending that may never come his way. Tewkesbury has always wanted something he could never have: a world outside of family rules, a universe that did not want him controlled, and now, worst of all, a love that should have stayed platonic. It is the cut that aches the most.

The moment is good, though. Y/N has always had this most peculiar skill when it comes to paper crafts, and Tewkesbury regards her now through lowered eyes. Her hands flit around the cut shapes, slicing off delicate corners and creasing folds until a simple note becomes a prancing pony, a soaring bird about to take flight around the room.

Tewkesbury shakes his head after she produces yet another paper marvel. “I don’t know how you do it,” he protests, “Show me, can’t you? Let’s make a flower or something.”

“Flowers have always been your favorite, haven’t they?” Y/N comments. She does as requested, although what are lovely narcissi and tulips in her hands turn into sadly wilted clumps of paper in his.

Tewkesbury just can’t figure out how she does it. Even after that particular day ends, he finds himself sitting in his room surrounded by heaps of useless folds, trying and failing to emulate her easy way with the paper crafts. One would think that Tewkesbury, with his lifetime of knowledge about every facet of flora there is to know, would be able to reproduce his beloved plants in paper form, but here you would be surprised.

Tewkesbury labors for hours, days even, but his progress is slow and totally frustrating. Y/N catches him at it a few times and laughs at him. The sound, so sharp it stings, carves a smile on Tewkesbury’s face even when he’s almost been driven to the point of madness by the infuriatingly unrealistic paper flowers.

He insists that Y/N show him a few more times, of course, but Tewkesbury can’t seem to pick up a single thing. Maybe that’s because he’s not really hearing but looking at his professor. The sunlight clings to her like a child, playing at her hair in ways that only golden beams can get away with in proper society. Despite Y/N’s protests that he really is getting better, Tewkesbury only thinks he’s getting better at one thing and one thing alone: falling harder for her.

Soon enough, he finds that he cannot go a day, cannot even draw a breath, without thinking about how much he loves Y/N. His room is dizzy and chaotic, the paper flowers piling up in the corners and spilling out of waste paper baskets. Tewkesbury’s hands are nicked by all the paper cuts he’s given himself by accident, and he finds his fingers keep twitching by his sides to run through the familiar folds and patterns as he goes by his days.

At some point, Tewkesbury looks up and realizes that he’s done it, mastered the things. They’re nothing compared to Y/N’s magic with them, of course, but they do the trick for now. An idea comes to him, and Tewkesbury carefully makes one pristine paper flower after another, all the types he knows by heart and some he has to consult in his books, too, just to get the right varieties.

Y/N is surprised when he presents them to her at first, this newsprint bouquet. Her eyes are enchanted and rove up and down the folded petals, the cut stems.

“You did all of this?” She asks, voice tinged with excitement.

Tewkesbury laughs. “You don’t have to seem so surprised. I was bound to get it at some point, you know.”

Y/N flashes him a grin in between her admirations of the paper flowers. “I never doubted you for a second, I swear it.”

He believes her, he always has. How is it that Tewkesbury can see straight through politicians and their lies, but yet find himself stumbling over Y/N’s every word? Every ounce of critical thought leaves his head in a blessed whirlpool the second she smiles at him. It is a problem that Tewkesbury refuses to solve.

A voice calls from behind him; Tewkesbury wasn’t able to stay for long today, only long enough to press the paper bouquet into Y/N’s hands and make her swear to look at it before he’s dashing back to the House of Lords again for the day’s work.

He doesn’t have to stay to make sure she’ll investigate, nor to discover what she finds. Soon enough, Y/N will be glancing over the paper creases and realize that not all of the flowers are made of newsprint. Some are made of notes, notes to her, notes that are at last able to explain all that Tewkesbury couldn’t put into words if he tried.

It’s a story about how a boy fell in love with a girl, how Tewkesbury is so lost on Y/N that he can’t think straight. Unable to help himself, he’s cataloged the flowers he’s made for her; camellias for longing, jasmine for sweet love, goldenrod so he’ll have luck in this, begonias so that even if she doesn’t feel the same way, he can at least thank her for all of the memories they made in the past years.

It might be the bravest thing he’s ever done. In truth, when Tewkesbury steps out of the reaches of Parliament for the day, he doesn’t know what to expect. In all his endless plotting and scheming about how to do this, he was never able to accurately sum up how Y/N might respond.

In the end, she surprises him. Tewkesbury enters the streets of London and there she is, waiting for him with a smile on her face unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Tewkesbury has prided himself on being able to place each one of her smiles in his memory, rank them on how happy she truly is, and this one blows all of the others away.

He walks to her, and they meet in the middle somewhere, both bursting with hopes finally answered.

“I love you too,” she says, “more than anything. More than you love me, I think.”

“Doubtful,” Tewkesbury replies, “I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love more than I love you.”

She laughs. “I look forward to proving you wrong on that point.”

He looks forward to it, too. There are few things in life that can be described as going perfectly, but this, this is it. This is perfection itself, him and her and the glorious world stretching out around them. Nothing could be better.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

enola holmes tag list: empty for now!

#tewkesbury #tewkesbury imagines #tewkesbury x reader #tewkesbury oneshot #enola holmes #enola holmes imagines #enola holmes x reader #enola holmes oneshot #enola holmes tewkesbury #enola holmes tewkesbury x reader #enola holmes tewkesbury oneshot

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enkas-illusion · 5 months

Text

One of Your Guys

One of Your Guys - Part 3/3

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, smut, language, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, lots of teasing.

Chapter Summary: You realise the difference between a stupid crush and actually developing real feelings for someone.

Song Dedication: Sweat by ZAYN / In Too Deep (feat. Kiana Ledé) by Jacob Collier

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“My god! Again?” Mia sighs as she stares at you in disbelief.

You’d paused the movie you’d been watching to take a picture of the dialogue displayed on screen. You’re sending it to Choso – because you know that he will find it interesting. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, hence the complaint from Mia.

Ever since the birthday weekend about a month ago, you’ve grown impossibly closer to Choso. You hadn’t planned this at all and initially tried your best to resist the feeling but you weren’t oblivious to the way your heart would flutter each time you thought of him.

You compare it to the changing of the season – you can’t stop the snow from falling just because you dread the cold weather. Similarly, you can’t ignore your obviously blooming feelings just because you’re scared of fucking it up again.

You’re smiling at your phone, even as you wait for his text. Nowadays, you have to physically force yourself to stop smiling too much. You fear that one of these days a stranger’s going to deem you crazy for smiling at your phone constantly.

“As cute as this is, I will disown you if you don’t do something soon. When are you planning to confess to him? Please put an end to my misery!” Mia groans. She’d been a close observer from the sidelines, watching you fall deeper and deeper for Choso.

Each time you recall her question about how to know for certain that you like someone, your mind brings memories of Choso to the surface as evidence of the same.

You’ve been hanging out with Choso after work sometimes on weekdays as well. It’s been almost impossible for you to stay apart. From the moment you wake up, you wish to talk to him to begin your mornings and miss him dearly on days you don’t get to meet him due to your different work schedules.

You had always paid close attention to his words whenever he spoke, but lately you find yourself wanting to take in every single detail about him with exact precision. You’ve memorised all his little habits and endearing idiosyncrasies like a photograph in your mind.

This, you conclude, is the difference between falling in love with the idea of love and falling for a real person.

However, feeling the feels and actually acting on them are two completely different things. Each time Mia tells you to have the talk with Choso, you brush it off saying you’re waiting for the right moment. You both know that's just a lame excuse. The truth is that this time, you really are scared shitless of getting rejected by someone you genuinely like.

—

Although you like your work, you’ve officially become one of those people who eagerly look forward to weekends – however, your reason for such a desperate anticipation is different from theirs. Your desire stems from your longing to be with Choso the entire time.

You’re currently grocery shopping with him, thanks to Mia’s orders – the cupid had sent you both to get a list of things for tomorrow’s brunch with the group. You’re arguing about the different brands of semolina flour to make the perfect pasta when you hear a voice call his name.

“Choso?” you both turn to look at the source of the voice and it’s a pretty brunette girl smiling at him. She walks to him and it looks like she’s about to lean in for a hug but decides against it. Choso smiles at her briefly.

“Hey, how you been?” He greets her.

“Choso… I thought you’d call! I’ve missed you.” she pouts as she bats her eyes at him.

Usually, when you recognize game, you respect it. But looking at this chick, you feel a sudden rage to smack the flirting outta her. It’s annoying cause you’re aware you’d 100% pull the exact same shit in front of your crush. But the audacity this bitch has to flirt with your man (future tense) when you’re standing right next to him!

“Yeah… Sorry, I kinda got busy with stuff.” He lies. Although you know that he’s just being polite, you can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy deep down. It doesn’t last long, however, as Choso pulls you to his side, introducing you to her.

She spares you half a smile when she introduces herself.

God, even her name is bitchy.

You extend your arm out to her and she shakes it. You know better than to poke the bear but you still act on your impulse, playing dumb when you ask her how she knows Choso.

“I’d love to tell you all about it but it’s hardly appropriate for supermarket talk.” she smirks at you. You simply give her a forced smile, refraining from saying something out of line.

“Well, we’re kind of in a rush so we better get going.” you excuse yourself as you put the bag of flour in your cart and pull it in the opposite direction.

You hear her utter a ‘call me’ before Choso bids her goodbye, and returns to your side with hurried strides.

“We have to find three more items on the list.” he says as he checks his phone.

“Mia can get those tomorrow morning.” you say as you make your way to the checkout counter.

“They might be here somewhere…” he says, confused. You ignore him as you keep on walking, too embarrassed about feeling this way.

He lets out a tiny gasp as he pulls at your bicep to stop you from walking, blocking your way with his body, “You’re jealous… Oh my god!” he chuckles, amusement laced in his voice, “This is so funny.”

You ignore him as you try to walk past him but his grip is firm on your bicep.

“What? No. Why on earth would I be jealous?” you lie, trying to maintain a poker face. He searches your eyes for something before deciding to drop the topic. He figures you’d keep on denying it anyway so he loosens his grip on your arm and you make your way to the billing counter.

When he drops you home, you hug him goodnight and tell him to leave before Mia has a chance to figure out that some of the items are missing. He laughs as he waves at you before driving away.

After you get back to your apartment, you don’t give Mia a chance to scold you as you promise her you’ll bring the remaining items first thing in the morning. So, you decide to go to bed early since you couldn’t afford to sleep in till late tomorrow.

—

You toss and turn in your bed for the umpteenth time. It’s almost 2am and you haven’t been able to sleep at all. You recall the encounter with Choso’s fling at the supermarket.

Let’s face it – it was pretty tame and yet it had you seething with jealousy like a teenager. This was just one incident, but how long will it take before someone braver than you makes her move and asks Choso out? It will be no one else’s fault but your own for having missed your shot.

At 2am, the realistic and rational decision would be to force yourself to go to bed and think about this topic in the morning with a fresh perspective. But right now, you have nothing on your mind but a sense of urgency to act before it’s too late.

Didn’t Ted Mosby say something about not following your heart after 2am?

Well… fuck Ted and fuck being rational.

You get up and hurry to your closet to quickly change into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You put on your shoes as you grab your phone and keys as you leave your house.

When you step down into the parking lot, you realise this is an utterly stupid decision. You’re paranoid – being a woman, alone at night, in a parking lot is far from a breezy walk in the park.

What could possibly go wrong?

Before your brain can create any more scary scenarios, you run to your car and get in to get out of there asap.

It’s a 10 minute drive to Choso’s apartment. When you reach there, you take the elevator to his floor.

You dial his number and press call. While the phone rings, you realise three things – you probably are going to seem insane but you don't care; it’s awfully cold and you should’ve worn something warmer; it is officially too late to chicken out now.

“Hello?” you hear his sleepy voice and your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest.

“Hi, could you please open the door to your apartment?” you say sheepishly. You’re about to repeat yourself when it almost seems like he didn’t hear you the first time, but you stay silent when you hear shuffling sounds on the other end.

He simply hums before cutting the call. In seconds, you hear the fidgeting sound of the lock. As the door begins to open, you consider running away and hiding somewhere.

So pathetic… this is totally not on brand for you.

When you take in his current state, you feel heat rise up to your cheeks and you can’t help but check him out. His hair is tied up messily and he’s only wearing sweatpants, while his upper body is bared in all its glory.

Although you feel bad for waking him up in the middle of the night, your heart melts at how handsome he looks and you grow weak in your knees. His voice pulls your thoughts out of the gutter.

“Is everything alright? What are you doing here at this hour? Did you drive alone?” He speaks softly, eyebrows knitted in concern and voice a bit gravelly from sleep.

You’re about to speak but stop like a deer caught in headlights when you hear a soft voice speak from inside. It’s hard to see who it is since the only source of light is coming from his room at the end of the hallway where the door had been left ajar.

“You’re still up?” the voice calls to him. He turns his head to reply and you lean slightly to the side out of curiosity.

When you spot the silhouette of a girl in the dim light, wearing only an oversized t-shirt that’s too big to be hers, your heart drops.

You simply stare at him while he replies to her, “Oh yeah, a friend’s here. Don’t worry, go to bed.”

You feel like you’re about to be sick… this isn’t what you thought was going to happen.

Did he really call her when he got back home?

When he turns back to look at you, he instantly recognizes your dreaded expressions. And in that moment, he’s glad your face is expressive to the point of betraying you – your eyes always expose all the thoughts you refuse to speak out loud.

He quickly speaks up, “That’s Sam’s girl… She’s staying the night with him.”

Sam… right, his flatmate.

Your face relaxes at the realisation. The hope returns to your eyes.

It's not too late! Now’s your one chance!!!

“So what brings you here at…”, he pulls his phone out, the brightness of his phone screen almost blinding, he shakes his head to look at the time, “... 2:34 in the morning?”

You shuffle a bit on your feet as you speak, “I- I wanted to tell you something and it almost felt like I couldn’t wait another moment to do so.”

“Oh…” he pauses a bit, “shit- sorry, please come in.” he invites you, moving to one side to let you in. He closes the door behind you as you take your shoes off. He takes your hand as you walk alongside him till you reach his bedroom.

When you enter his room, he leaves your hand and turns around to lock the door. You’re certain he hears the not-so-quiet yelp that you just let out when you saw his back. You slap your hand to your mouth as you cover it in shock and stare at the tattoo on his back.

From what you can see in the dim lighting of his room, it's a dragon and tiger in red and black ink and it’s huge. You vaguely recall him mentioning he had a tattoo once, but you never would’ve guessed it’d be one that covers almost his entire back.

New kink unlocked – Choso’s back tattoo.

“You have a tattoo…” it comes out as a statement rather than a question.

He chuckles at your surprise, “Yes, I am aware. Sitting in a chair with tiny needles making your back bleed for hours is kind of an unforgettable experience, I'd say.”

“It’s pretty…” your voice trails off as you watch him grab his t-shirt from the laundry basket next to the door and put it on in one swift motion. You sit on the edge of his bed as he leans against the closed door, folding his hands over his chest.

You fidget with your fingers nervously as you try to come up with the right words for your confession. “Sooo…” you drag on, your heartbeat picking up its pace, making you fully aware of how anxious you are. “Mia has been on my case about this for a while now…”

Nope. Weak start.

“Fuck.” You close your eyes to focus, taking a deep breath as you begin again, “Choso… I like you. I’d been putting this off since I figured I’d wait to find the right words to express how I feel. But I may never find the perfect words because with every moment we spend together, I find myself falling deeper for you.”

You continue as you open your eyes to look at him, feeling a bit braver now that the cat’s out of the bag, “I’m aware it seems like a cheap shot since it’s such a recent development. But my feelings for you are sincere. What I felt for Satoru was simply me romanticising a platonic friendship.”

You sigh and it’s so overwhelming that you feel like crying, “Maybe this sounds like I’m talking out of my ass but fuck…Choso I like you so much it hurts. I’ve never done this before because frankly I’ve never been in so deep with anyone before. I want to show you just how much you mean to me and my heart aches just thinking that maybe you don’t want me anymore since I was too dumb before to see what was right in front of me all along. I’m sorry for failing to see you… but I do now. And if you’ll still have me even after me acting like an oblivious fuck, I’m right here.”

You bend your head down to cover your face with your hands as you can feel the tears in your eyes. You want to redo the confession because no matter what you say, it feels far from enough. Your train of thought comes to a halt when you feel him grab your wrists.

He pulls your hands away from your face and you find him kneeling in front of you so that you're face to face.

“Aww… my poor baby,” he mocks you playfully, but he’s smiling so bright that he’s sure, at that moment, his eyes speak for him too. You use the back of one hand to wipe your tears while the other slaps Choso’s chest lightly.

He grabs both your wrists and holds them in the tiny space between you two. He brings one hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles and repeats the action on your other hand.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, I’m pretty sure it isn’t going to fade so easily.” he smiles at you.

“Please tell me you believe me when I say I like you more than I’m able to express with my words?” you say, wanting reassurance that he understands the truth behind your emotions.

“I do… I’ve been aware of it for the past few days now.” he confesses. You furrow your eyebrows out of confusion. He explains, “Remember how I always joke about you looking at Satoru with those eyes? Well, I kinda realised that lately you’d been looking at me that way instead.”

“Oh,” is all you say as you look down to bite your lip, embarrassed. Choso leans forward as his fingers tilt your chin up. On instinct, you look down at his lips before your eyes move up to observe the rest of his face.

“So… you still like me?” you almost whisper.

“I do.” he chuckles softly, “and it doesn't hurt anymore cause I know you reciprocate my feelings.”

“Hmm… I do.” You reply. There's silence, it's far from awkward but you decide to break it anyway.

You begin, trying to mimic a stern voice, “And by the power vested in me by God Almighty, I now pronounce you husban- AGH!”

Choso hooks his arm around your neck mid sentence pulling you towards him, causing you to kneel with a soft thud on the floor as his laughter fills the entire room. You hug him back as you laugh along, feeling a sense of accomplishment for having made him laugh so hard.

When the hearty laughter is reduced to softer giggles, you sit back up on the edge and rub the top of your knees as they hurt a bit from the slight impact. He mutters a quick ‘sorry’ as his hand replaces yours, massaging the area softly.

There’s an unspoken agreement when your eyes meet again. He wants you to make the first move this time. So you do just that.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you close the distance and kiss him gently. It doesn't take long for Choso to take charge and deepen the kiss as he cups your face in his hands and stands up, pulling you up with him without breaking contact.

When your lips part, breathing heavy, he takes a step back to pull off his t-shirt. You close the distance once again as your hands move up to his hair. You pull his hair tie out, letting it drop to the floor and lacing your fingers through his black locks to free them. Your eyes scan his face to take in how pretty he looks with his hair down.

He leans down within seconds to close the distance between you. His kisses get frantic and messy as he grabs your ass with one hand while the other snakes around your waist, caging you between his arms.

He moves away to hastily pull your hoodie over your head before throwing it to the side. He’s towering over you with your bodies flush against each other’s. You lean back till you’re falling on the bed behind you.

Choso sits up as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulls them off roughly. A shiver runs down your body when you see the way he’s looking at you. His chest heaves as his breathing gets heavy, his voice comes out as a stern command, “Strip for me, baby.”

He moves back to stand at the edge of the bed to observe your movements intently. You turn your back to him, sitting on your knees. Your hands move to your back to unclasp the hook of your bra and you throw it across the floor. You turn around to face him, your hands covering your chest.

You lean back, supporting yourself on your elbows with your palms still covering your nipples. He damn near loses his mind when he hears you purr, feigning innocence, “Sorry… my hands are full, do you mind?” as you part your legs.

He doesn’t waste any time as he leans down to grab both your ankles, yanking you as he pulls your body near the edge of the bed. You let out a tiny squeal as your hands move to the sheets as you steady yourself.

Hooking his fingers into the hem of your underwear, he takes it off slowly as his eyes scan your entire body to memorise the view into his mind forever. When he discards the piece of fabric behind him, he grabs your right foot. He brings his lips to the top of your foot, peppering wet kisses up your leg till his face is just inches away from your pussy, his eyes locked in your gaze the entire time.

You can feel his hot breath, closing your eyes as you wait for him to kiss you where you really crave the touch of his lips. However, you open your eyes again when you feel him move away. He’s repeating his movement on your other leg, kissing all over your leg to rile you up.

When he bites the skin near your left thigh, you groan as you grow impatient and hook your leg on his shoulder in an attempt to pull him down closer.

“Patience, love.” he teases you as he moves up to kiss your stomach instead.

“Choso please…” you plead as your shaky hands move up to his hair.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do baby… since we’re so big on communication.” he teases. You say his name again as if to scold him, but it comes out more like a desperate whimper.

He’s on his knees near the edge of the bed as he repositions your legs to place them on his shoulders. He’s so close that the lack of his touch is agonising. He only needs to lean down a few inches to end your misery, yet he holds back, enjoying the way your body is reacting to his teasing.

“Eat me out baby… plea-” your voice gets caught in your throat and instead turns into a soft wail when you finally feel his lips on your skin. His fingers intertwine with yours, locking them to your side to keep them from moving as his tongue parts your folds with a gentle pressure.

You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud. His movements alternate between licking up your entrance and sucking at your clit. You arch your back and whimper as his tongue dips into your hole.

He groans as his hands press yours deeper into the mattress to keep you from moving too much. You look down at him with knitted eyebrows and you feel as if you’re about to come just by the way his eyes look at your face.

“Taste so good baby…” he mumbles between kisses. When he notices you trying to restrain your moans, he lets go of one hand to slowly push two fingers inside you. He’s pleased when he’s able to elicit the desired reaction out of you as you moan his name, followed by a number of cusses while he pumps his fingers inside you at a steady pace.

He goes back to sucking your clit while fucking you with his fingers. The combination of the two is deadly as you feel yourself getting close to your release. Your free hand grabs at his hair as your whole body starts shaking.

“Fu- Choso, don’t stop… don’t stop, ahh–” your voice strains as your head dips back and you close your eyes. You start shaking uncontrollably and as if on cue, his other hand moves up to apply pressure over your lower abdomen. You moan his name out loud with ragged breaths as you reach your orgasm.

You try to push his head away, not being able to handle how sensitive your pussy feels. But Choso doesn’t relent as his tongue laps at your folds to lick you clean, causing tears to form in your eyes due to the overstimulation. He stops when he hears your voice break, still panting as you come down from your high, your body twitching under his hold.

He moves up, kissing your stomach, the flesh under your boobs, the valley of your chest and finally licking up your throat till he’s levelled with your face. He kisses the corners of both your eyes to erase the trail of tears that was left behind.

Your hands roam all over his back as you pull him down against you to kiss him on the lips one more time – he tastes of your cum with a slight hint of salty tears. Your legs wrap around his waist as you move a hand down to palm his erection.

He breathes out a quiet ‘fuck’ when your hand rubs him up and down from above his pants. You feel as if your brain is about to short circuit when you pull your lips away from his and briefly see a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Choso, please fuck me.” you beg softly. He nods before kissing your forehead softly as he says, “Your wish is my command, princess.”

He gets up quickly to pull his pants down along with his underwear together, freeing his cock from its restraints. He’s, what one would call, well-endowed… to say the least. You feel yourself getting wet at how thick and veiny his dick is. You move back up to the centre of the bed as he makes his way to the bedside drawer to grab a tiny silver pack.

When he climbs up on the bed, you reach your hand out to caress his thighs. He tears the pack open with his teeth before rolling on the condom in a well-practised motion. When his eyes meet yours, they soften as he smiles at you. You smile back at him before you bite your lip, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

He moves to sit with his knees just below your hips and leans down to spit on your folds, moving his fingers to spread the spit around your hole. He lines himself up at your entrance, slapping his dick over your pussy a few times before coating it with your wetness.

He looks up at you, pausing his movement to speak, concern lacing his voice, “Let me know if it hurts, okay baby?”

You feel the blood rush to your head at his words and you nod frantically. He hooks your knees over his shoulders before slowly pushing his tip in. You let out a broken whimper at how good he already feels as chills run down your spine at the sensation.

He leans forward till his chest is flush against yours and he has you in a mating press. He doesn’t break eye contact as he pushes inside you slowly till he bottoms out. Your eyebrows knit as you try to keep your eyes open.

A low grunt escapes from his throat as he moans your name when your walls flutter around his dick. Choso wets his lips as he grabs a pillow from the side to place it under your lower back.

“You good?” he says, his voice strained.

“Never been better.” you breathe out, looking at him with lust-filled eyes that are pleading him to not tease you any further.

He supports his body weight with his left forearm rooted firmly in the space beside your head while his right hand comes up to your throat. His hold is firm as he tilts your head to the side with his thumb, dipping his face in the crook of your neck.

As he bites and sucks all over your neck, you feel your walls clench around him. He bites harder when he feels it, earning a moan from you in return. You plead, urging him to fuck you already.

“Not…” he whispers as his tongue flicks at one of your nipples, “...yet.” he repeats the movement on the other bud as well. Although everything he’s doing feels good, you grow desperate in the anticipation of feeling his dick fuck into you.

You wrap your hands around his wide shoulders as you speak, “Baby, please don’t make me beg so–.” Before you have a chance to finish your sentence, he pulls out to thrust deep in one quick motion.

You scream his name way too loudly and you’re pretty sure Sam and his girlfriend heard you. Even if they didn’t, it would be impossible to miss the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin as he starts ramming into you with a steady pace.

His movements are precise, pulling out till only his tip is inside you before slamming all the way in. You shut your eyes, feeling every thrust and your nails dig into his shoulders when it gets too much to handle.

Your right leg slides off his shoulder slightly and you press it against his bicep, you can feel the sticky sweat on both of your skins as you keep on whispering lewd praises at him.

“You fuck… so good.” you moan breathlessly as his movements get sloppy. “Don't st- mhm- make me yours.”

“I’m gonna cum… fuck.. if you keep talking like that, love.” he groans, picking up his pace as the hand he had on your throat moves down to stimulate your clit. You’re kissing his shoulder when he does that and it causes you to bite into his skin to contain your moans.

A few more sloppy thrusts and Choso cums as he bites your neck a little too hard. You wail his name out of pain. He licks over the bite to soothe it a bit when he realises it as his pace slows down before pulling out completely. You miss the feeling of his dick inside you but he quickly lowers himself to fuck you with his tongue instead. His mouth and his fingers work together and it doesn’t take long for you to cum on his tongue once again.

When your breathing steadies, your grip on his hair loosens; just now realising that you’d been pulling his hair instinctively. He’s still peppering your folds with soft kisses. Your eyelids feel heavy as you pull at his bicep. He understands what you want and pulls himself up to face you, caging you between his arms.

His face looked fucked out and you know yours is the same way. You cup his face with your shaky hands.

“Hi,” he gives you an innocent smile.

As if he wasn’t just fucking you into kingdom come.

“Hi,” you smile back as a blush creeps up on your cheek, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable under him. He kisses your lips softly and you close your eyes as your arms wrap around his neck. He leaves tiny pecks on your cheeks, eyelids, nose, chin till he’s covered your entire face with soft kisses.

You giggle under him as his lips move down to your neck. He nudges his nose so that it tickles you. You know what he’s about to do as he brings a hand to the side of your abdomen to tickle you there.

You scold him, still giggling, before it escalates, “Choso! No! Please… baby I’m tired.”

“Well, if you ask so nicely…” he says as he stills his movement to sit up, but not before giving you another quick peck. You sit up to make your way to the bathroom to pee and you see him move to help you.

“I can go by myself,” you let out a chuckle but you'd be lying if you said your legs weren't feeling like jelly.

“Say yes for another round and you won't be able to.” He laughs as he takes in the way your naked silhouette looks, the bathroom light illuminating your figure before you close the door behind you.

If it were up to him, he'd be more than glad to stay up all night to hear your sweet moans, commiting to memory the way you scream out his name.

When you return, you find him standing near the bin as he ties the condom in a knot and puts it in the torn pack before dropping it in the bin. It’s a simple act yet you find it very attractive that he’s so organised.

You get back to the bed as you watch his movements intently. He bends down to grab his sweatpants from the floor and rummages through the pockets to find his phone. When he touches the screen, it lights up again, making him squint his eyes.

“Why don’t you just put it on auto-adjust?” you laugh.

“Because then it becomes too dim even in broad daylight at times.” he complains as he places the phone on his bedside table.

“Wait, do you want to set an alarm? I meannn, I’m all for missing brunch if I get to fuck you all day instead.” he says as he lies down next to you and pulls you into him till your back is pressed against his chest.

“Choso, I'm tired!” You giggle and he hums in response. You twist your head to inhale his scent.

“Your perfume’s faded.” you note.

“Then what do I smell like now?” he questions and you turn around to face him completely, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“You smell of sweat…” you kiss his lips, “and sex…” you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth briefly, “... and me.”

He smiles into the kiss, “Is it your new favourite scent?”

“Maybe.” you tease.

“Guess I have no choice but to smell like it all the time now.” he says as he kisses your earlobe. You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He pulls the blanket over your bodies, pulling you impossibly closer. You continue to lazily make out for another 30 minutes or so, whispering sweet nothings, till you eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

You don’t get to sleep much as you wake up when daylight breaks in through his window, softly lighting up the room. You find Choso sleeping with his head on your stomach, the blanket has since shifted to the edge of the bed. In the gentle morning light, you can see his tattoo better. You slowly caress the lines of the figure and it might be the prettiest tattoo you’ve ever seen. It’s red spider lily flowers peeking out from under the larger dragon and tiger tattoo.

When your fingers gently move over the scratches your nails had ingrained into his skin, you hear him groan softly. You pull your hand away, whispering a soft ‘sorry baby’ but he slowly brings his right hand over to intertwine it with your left hand. He pulls it to his lips, kissing the top of your hand.

He bites the skin gently, earning a quiet laugh from you. He opens his eyes to look up at you. His movements are lazy as he moves up, kissing above your belly button before coming up to rest his chin on your chest.

You run your hands through his hair slowly as you speak, “I’m sorry about your back… I'll make sure to cut my nails next time.”

“No, don’t. You can scratch my back all you want… battle scars, baby.” he snorts at his own joke, “Besides, I’d say I did a lot more damage than you.”

His fingers move the stray strand of your hair away from your neck as he observes the trail of hickeys running down from your neck to your breast.

“Oh god…” you groan.

“What?”

“Mia…” you sigh.

“You don’t want her to know?” He speaks softly but sounds almost hurt.

“What? No, it’s not that. Believe me, she’s gonna do a happy dance since I'll stop being so insufferable in front of her,” you laugh before continuing, “but I had promised to get the remaining items on the list for her in the morning. She’s gonna be so pissed when she doesn’t find me in my room.”

“Ahh… no worries, we can go pick it up on our way, we still have time.” he smiles at you.

“Sooo, round 2?” you blush as your fingers dance over his bicep.

He laughs as he comes up to kiss your cheek, “You didn’t have to ask.”

You fuck for another two hours, exploring multiple positions that have you seeing stars as you chant his name on repeat. When you’re done, every single part of your body feels sore – even your throat isn’t spared as it feels sensitive from deep-throating him. You stop only because you decide it’ll be too late to get home on time if you stayed any longer.

Despite Choso’s protests claiming you’d save time if you showered together, you take turns to freshen up. You tell him no and push him in the bathroom, he pouts dramatically but closes the door behind him as he obliges nonetheless.

When you’re both dressed up and ready to leave, he pulls you in for a hug. You bury your face into his chest while he’s nesting his against your neck. You breathe in the freshly applied oud-jasmine scent and sigh, feeling intoxicated. He squeezes your body into his and you wrap your arms around him tighter as you both stay still in each other’s arms for quite a few minutes before you decide to leave.

Choso drives your car to the grocery store and asks you to wait in the car while he quickly gets the necessary items. It doesn’t take very long and you reach your apartment shortly after.

“Man… Mia’s gonna flip when she finds out we’re finally dating.” you smile, excited as he parks the car in the parking lot of your building.

“Dating?,” he questions, “Whatever gave you that impression, baby? We’re so platonic!”

Before you have a chance to react, he cups your jaw with one hand to pull you in for a kiss. You laugh into the kiss and slap his chest playfully.

“Kidding, you’re stuck with me now.” he adds, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You’re the one who’s trapped baby… heart and soul.” you say, trying to mimic his voice with the last words. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he pulls you in again and kisses you slowly.

The feeling of his lips against yours is so addicting and you don’t want to leave. If it were up to you, you’d stay in his arms forever, and then some more.

taglist: @lik0 @hueanhdang @dellalyra @aquamarine001 @personomy

#erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsukaisen x reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #choso #choso smut #choso kamo

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coolshadowtwins · 1 month

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SVSSS YQY Fan Fic Round up!

Ok, I finally have them all together! Please enjoy these fanfics, and if you have any to recomend that's not on here, feel free to say! I'll add it later!

First off, The YQY Weekend 2023 AO3 collection and The QiJiu Week 2023 I'm going to recommend as the entire pages! Great places to go find a fanfic to enjoy! Some might be double recomanded, but some should be unique!

Mouse On The Thorn by Lbhs_left_tiddie

On a mission, Yue Qingyuan comes across an omega child, who shares a name and a startling resemblance with his favourite shidi. Shen Qingqiu, however, denies knowing such a child, and make it very clear he wants nothing to do with him.

Without any family or home, Yue Qingyuan instead offers to take care of the child.

Palimpsest by Azzandra

Yue Qingyuan has one giant blindspot as a sect leader, and that's Shen Qingqiu.

But now a curse has made him forget Shen Qingqiu, and that changes some things.

gather jewels from graveyards by formerlyknives

When strange rumours reach Cang Qiong, Shen Yuan is a little slow to investigate.

He lives to regret it.

The number children by Angry_gremlin_commando

Ten-year-old Mobei Wu, fifth son of the current Mobei-Jun, gets stranded in the human realm after one of his uncle's murder attempts. There he meets fifteen-year-old Yue Qi, fresh out of Lingxi caves and on the way to rescue Shen Jiu.

It turns out even ice demons aren't immune to Yue Qi's Big Brother energy. (This author has a good number of stories to check out! Go look at them!!)

A smile for the master, a snarl for the wolves by Angry_gremlin_commando

Shen Qingqiu and his young disciple Luo Binghe qi-deviate at the same time and swap bodies. It makes them understand some things about each other.

To Plant a Garden by SweetTiramisu

Yue Qingyuan spends so long beneath the earth that he becomes a part of it. Perhaps Shen Qingqiu will plant a garden in him.

Written for Qijiu Week Day 2: Touch Starvation.

bite your way to safety by AMereDream

The Geese come at a time that neither Shen Jiu nor Yue Qi considers ideal. They make it work. (This author has so many good fics! Go read them! This is just the one I chose to put on this list!)

You Were You, And I Was I by MissMegh

Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan qi deviate and turn into their teenaged selves. They don't know who they become. They don't remember the worst moments of their lives. They only know they're together again.

Pretty soon everyone on Cang Qiong Mountain knows they are, too.

Our Sect Leader Is A Baby! by dryingmangoes

Yue Qingyuan gets deaged. Somehow this changes everything.

for day 2 of qijiu week blessing/curse

Treading Well-Worn Paths by mofumofu

After Shen Qingqiu married Luo Binghe, Yue Qingyuan thought his role in the man’s life was over.

However, as he carried the child-sized lord of Qing Jing Peak in his arms, he was grateful for this unexpected opportunity to bond with the person he cherished most.

Shen Yuan, meanwhile, wondered desperately where the hell he was.

hey, share the weight a little by Tossawary

Shang Qinghua is miserable as an outer disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, doubtful that the plot will ever begin, when he finally runs into his first character. Yue Qingyuan is only a boy in desperate need of a helpful friend. Well, why shouldn't Shang Qinghua be that friend? A little investment now when they're young and Shang Qinghua might just be able to survive this world with the support of a sect leader.

It's definitely not because he's also in desperate need of a friend.

(He's definitely not expecting love.)

you're my number one by pennydaniels

Yue Qingyuan is granted a chance to have his heart's deepest desire made real by a mysterious goddess living in a small sect's private temple.

The Evening by kat8cha

Yue Qingyuan wakes up, he gets dressed, he goes to work, he goes to the gym, he goes to a party.

He pays people to tell him what to wear, people to tell him where to be, people to tell him what to do, and pays for someone else's engagement party.

A broken mirror restored by bunnyfication

Yue Qingyuan is hit over the head with the realization that he could ask Shen Qingqiu to marry him, Shen Qingqiu's suspicious mind cannot make sense of the sequence of events. Yue Qingyuan would never, would he? What is this, mind control??? (it's happiness, but neither of them has ever felt it before).

nobody, nobody told me by AMereDream

“Qingqiu-shidi,” he started. “Are you al—”

Xiao Jiu tugged, surprisingly strong for someone who had collapsed out of nowhere less than an hour before. Yue Qingyuan followed, partly out of surprise and partly because it was Xiao Jiu; of course he’d go wherever Xiao Jiu wanted him to be.

He found himself being dragged onto the bed, only the thin sheets separating him from Xiao Jiu's body. His breath caught in his chest, and he clenched his eyes shut.

Xiao Jiu's bony elbows dug into his chest, his thin — too thin, having skipped too many meals even for someone who didn’t need to eat — shoulders curved to meet Yue Qingyuan’s body.

His long hair tickled Yue Qingyuan’s face. He smelled like the honeyed soap he washed his hair with. Yue Qingyuan inhaled covertly, deep and greedy.

One morning, Shen Qingqiu woke up a changed man. Yue Qingyuan is left trying to figure out what happened to make him so relaxed and affectionate.

#svsss #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #yue qingyuan #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #qijiu #79 #yueshang #shang qinghua

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

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Don't Worry, Darling: Five

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, somnophilia, drugging, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, dark!Rafe, blood, mention of a gun, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist

It’s painful to peel your eyes open.

Your vision is still blurry as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You try to move, and your limbs feel like they’re made of lead.

Finally, you lift your hand to hold your head, trying to stop the pounding within it.

You quickly realize that it’s not just your head, an ache spreading throughout your body, feeling like you got hit by a truck.

You wish you could return to the peace you felt when you were sleeping. All you can remember is feeling like you were floating on a raft, all alone in the middle of the ocean.

For some reason, you think of Rafe. Maybe he was there too. There’s something about his touch and smell that lingers in the back of your mind, a soft coo in your ear.

You wince as you sit up, leaning against your headboard.

The last thing you remember is taking a bath. So how did you end up in your bed, dressed in your pajamas?

Maybe you were drunker than you thought.

At least you didn’t fall asleep in the bathtub, you think as you silently chide yourself for doing something so stupid.

Leaving your thoughts, it takes you a moment to realize Rafe isn’t next to you.

The sun shines brightly through the curtains, and you’re unsure of what the time is.

You find your phone on your nightstand, screen lighting up to reveal a text from your husband.

You squint, reading being a little more difficult than usual. But by the time you’re finished, a small smile is on your lips.

He went golfing with Topper and Kelce and didn’t want to wake you, ending the message with “I love you.”

He must have known how much you needed to sleep.

It takes you a while to drag yourself out of bed, popping an Advil before you feel good enough to make your way downstairs.

You sip your coffee slowly as you stare at your phone. You’ve gotten texts from each of your friends. They’re confused, just as you are, checking to make sure you’re okay after last night.

As you stare at the letters on the keyboard, you decide not to answer any of them. You’re not sure why, whether it’s because you don’t know what to say, or if whatever you type, it still wouldn’t explain how you’re feeling.

For some reason, you don’t think they would understand.

Now that you’re sober, the weight of the incident feels heavier. The last thing you would want is all of Figure Eight to think your husband is a murderer.

But if people are suspicious of him, the police must be also.

Now a new fear squeezes your chest.

What if he’s charged with a crime he didn’t commit? All because he was the last known person to see Chase, along with his reputation of losing control.

You sigh, closing your eyes, trying to rid your mind of these upsetting thoughts.

Your moment of relaxation doesn’t last long as your phone starts to ring, your eyes snapping open.

You furrow your brow as you see a number you don’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Your confusion isn’t eased as you hear the familiar voice.

“JJ?”

“Yeah. Hey,” he begins. “Sorry to bother you but I think I left something when I was over there the other day.” He barely pauses throughout his explanation, an obvious alarm in his tone. “I know it’s a weekend, but my boss is gonna rip me a new one if I don’t have it back by tomorrow. If Rafe is home, then don’t worry about it. I can just-.”

“Rafe’s not home,” you interrupt, wanting to quickly ease his troubles. “He’s out golfing with friends. He’ll be gone all day,” you say, eyes scanning the empty house. “But I would stop by sooner than later, just in case,” you add.

“O-Okay.” His surprise is evident through the phone. “I’ll be there in 20,” he says before hanging up.

For a second, you wonder how he got your number. But then you remember that the pool company must have yours and Rafe’s for situations like these.

Well, maybe not like this one.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah. I guess these things are more expensive than I thought,” JJ answers casually, holding up a packet of chlorine tablets.

Your lips curve up, following him through the side gate, back to his truck.

“Do you want to come in?”

He opens his mouth, but you speak first, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Rafe will be gone all day. Believe me, he always is when he goes out with his friends.”

You realize that came out more bitterly than you intended.

He shifts, scratching the back of his head. You notice that he’s not wearing his work clothes, a day off for him. You both have stopped on the lawn.

“Uh, not today. But I’ll see you this week,” he finishes with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

He meets your gaze, a nervousness there that you haven’t seen in a while.

“Is something wrong?”

Your question stops him in his tracks. Turning around to face you, he thinks for a second.

He sighs, eyes finding the ground before returning to your face.

“John B told me about what happened last night.” He quiets his voice, like he’s worried someone is going to hear. “You know, with Rafe.”

“Okay…” You stare at him, brows pulled together. You pretend you don’t know where he’s going with this, but you brace yourself.

He does the same at your response. You see his lips start to move, no doubt questioning your reaction.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe it?” You blurt out, incredulity lacing your tone.

He shrugs, shaking his head. “It’s Rafe,” he says, letting out a humorless laugh.

You hug your arms tighter around your body, feeling your jaw start to tense.

You hear him sigh again, his arms hitting his sides.

“It’s not just me who thinks it, okay? I mean, he was the last one to see him alive,” JJ continues, trying to make you see what he sees so clearly. “How many times has the police talked to him?”

“Doesn’t matter. I thought you said the police don’t know what they’re doing,” you harshly reply.

Something crosses JJ’s face, something you identify as pity, and it makes you feel sick.

“So, you think there’s no way he did it?” He asks, a thickness in his voice that tells you he already knows your answer.

When you don’t respond, he tries again, stepping closer to you.

“Tell me. Tell me there’s no way he did it,” he begs you, almost like he wants to be proven wrong for your sake.

You feel anger bubble up in your chest, your eyes not leaving his.

It hurts you to realize that you’re not angry with JJ.

You’re angry because you can’t say the words you wish you could.

“I want you to leave,” you spit out, eyes hardening as you point to his truck.

His face falls, disappointment washing over him, lips parting.

“Y/N-.”

“Leave,” you almost yell, starting to feel your anger transform into tears. With all your strength, you stop them.

In a moment, the emotion is wiped off his face, a coldness settling in his blue eyes as he swallows.

You watch him through a glare as he drives away, not giving you another glance.

You’re torn between crumpling to the floor or letting a numbness overtake you.

You find yourself back in your bedroom, still going over the events of the last 24 hours, still going over your argument with JJ.

As you peer over the room, you stop on the spot where a framed picture now hangs, covering the hole Rafe made in the wall.

It’s a picture of the two of you.

It must have been taken a few years ago. It was back when Rafe still went on vacation with his family. You think Rose took it.

The orange sunset sits behind you two while Rafe stares at the camera, and you stare at him. An adoration is visible on your face, and you’re never sure if Rafe knows it when you look at him like that.

A moment in time, frozen, to show the love between you and Rafe.

Now it’s been tarnished.

It’s a permanent reminder of his violence, and how easy it was for you to cover it up.

Is it better to live in ignorance like you have been or to finally know what’s been in the back of your mind since you found about Chase’s disappearance?

You’re not even sure what to look for. It’s hard for you to even think about what you could find and where.

You think back to what JJ said about the murderer being sloppy. If that were true, that means he might’ve missed something when he was cleaning up.

You walk into your closet, trying to forget about the heaviness you suddenly feel. You swallow, eyes scanning his side of the closet. You look over clothes, hands grabbing jackets, looking for questionable stains.

You almost breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t find anything.

You look over his shoe rack, finding clean pairs of shoes, most he barely ever wears.

Just when you were about done searching, your eyes catch on a dirty pair of shoes.

The only one with mud caked on the soles.

Bending down, you feel your stomach drop as you reach for them. You frown, inspecting them closer.

Mud doesn’t mean he killed someone. Even if you can’t think of a reason why his shoes would be dirty in the first place.

The gators flash in your mind and you almost wince.

You stand up, bringing his shoes to the kitchen. You scrub them lightly, just trying to take the layer of dirt off.

The mud comes off easily, leaving the shoes clean. Mostly, at least.

You squint at a pattern of stains on one of the shoes. Your harsh scrubbing not doing anything to get them off.

It seems like something splattered onto the shoe and dried, now not coming off.

After a moment of staring at it, a gasp leaves your throat. The shoe falls from your hand into the sink.

The outline of the stain and the copper color finally hits you.

Tears fill your eyes as you stare at the piece of evidence sitting in the sink, the faucet still running over it.

Rafe watches the golf ball fly in the air, hand still tight around the club, as the ball doesn’t land as far as he wants it to on the green grass.

His face twists up with frustration, coldly staring at the failure of his swing.

He’s off today, not getting a single ball in.

His mind is on other things, like the constant tug in his chest. He’s tried to ignore the feeling, swallowing down the guilt.

But he keeps thinking about last night.

All he can do is tell himself that he’s not the bad guy. He just has to do bad things sometimes.

He just wishes you didn’t have to get caught in the eye of the storm.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he tells himself, the words echoing in his head.

When he finally looks behind him, he notices the uneasiness coming off Topper and Kelce, even if they try to hide it.

“Your turn,” he reminds Topper.

All Topper does is catch Kelce’s eye, asking for silent reassurance before releasing a sigh.

“I think we should talk, Rafe.”

Rafe squints at Topper’s words along with the blazing sun.

“About?” He asks, letting his club hit the ground.

“Well…” Topper pauses, glancing at Kelce again. “Last night looked really bad.”

Concern paints Topper’s features, his fingers gripping the golf club in his hand. He’s met with a blank stare from Rafe.

Topper’s face falls a little, fighting to keep his composure.

“Everyone’s talking about it, bro,” Kelce interjects, watching Rafe with the same concern.

Rafe’s lips part, an understanding crossing his face.

“What are they saying?” He asks.

“It seems…like people think you…,” Topper stops himself. “They think what Jake said is true,” he says instead.

Rafe slowly nods, absentmindedly biting his lip.

“I didn’t do it,” he finally says.

“We know that,” Topper says quickly, looking over at Kelce.

“Yeah. We know you didn’t do that shit,” Kelce adds.

“We just wish everyone else knew the truth,” Topper finishes, his eyebrows raised.

Rafe just looks to the ground, brows pulled together, already thinking about what he needs to do.

He casually shrugs, jutting out his lips.

“Let people think what they want.”

Rafe doesn’t hide his anger when he makes it back to the security of his truck.

“Shit,” he yells, his hand hitting the steering wheel.

His cheeks are red from a combination of the heat outside and his blistering anger.

When his breathing steadies, his eyes look around at the leather interior, not really focusing on it, concocting his plan instead.

He nervously takes the backwards baseball cap off his head, fingers running through his hair.

When he knows what he wants, he puts it back on his head, covering the dirty blond strands and quickly takes his phone out of his pocket.

Just as he pulls up Jake’s contact, his phone buzzes, his dad’s name flashing on the screen.

He hesitates for a second before hitting the red “ignore” button.

He fumbles with the letters on the keyboard, drafting his text.

He doesn’t know Jake as well as he knew Chase. He always knew Jake didn’t like him, preferring Chase’s friendship while working for Cameron Development.

Even if he doesn’t know Jake that well, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard the secret he tries his hardest to keep hidden.

For the last year, Jake has been sleeping with one of the secretaries, cheating on his wife over and over again.

So, if Jake wants to tell the island something damning about Rafe, he can play the same game.

That’s exactly what he puts in his text.

It only takes a few minutes for Jake to send one right back.

Rafe’s lips curve into a smirk, getting the answer he wanted.

His fingers lightly tap the wheel, impatiently waiting for Jake.

He’s late, saying he’d meet Rafe at the storage lockers 20 minutes ago.

An annoyed sigh leaves his mouth as his head hits the headrest.

Rafe has made sure to text you that he’ll be out late with Topper and Kelce. He tries not to think too much about why you haven’t responded yet.

Maybe you’re busy, or tired.

There’s no way you know, he tells himself.

Last night’s events plague him again, and he can’t tell if he finds comfort or torment in them.

He got to you just in time, your head barely going underwater.

He was worried that might happen, letting you take a bath was probably a bad idea. He barged into the steamy bathroom, pulling you out of the warm water.

You were out like a light, not stirring at all as he made you comfortable in bed, drying you off.

He wasn’t sure how well the sedative he put in your wine would work.

But he was satisfied with the results.

As he stared at your unconscious naked body, looking peaceful in your slumber, he thought about how he was betraying you in the worst way possible.

If you ever found out, you would never trust him again.

But then he remembered what you told him.

He believed you could forgive him, maybe not at first, but eventually. That’s the type of person you are.

You’ll love him forever. You said it yourself.

He wouldn’t have had to do anything if you just saw things the way he did. If only you were on the same page as him.

His hungry eyes raked you over, taking in the valley between your breasts to the swell of your thighs.

The moonlight cascaded through the window onto your sleeping body, a blue tint lighting the room.

All he could hear is the whir of the ceiling fan, making the warm room cooler, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He lightly ran his fingertips along your thigh, feeling your soft skin, slowly inching closer to the heat of your core.

It felt wrong, forbidden, but it also gave him an excitement that coursed through his veins.

It was an adrenaline rush, that he could touch you no matter what, that you’re his to have and hold forever.

His fingers finally plunged into your warmth, feeling how you squeeze around them. The quietest breaths left your lips as he felt you start to soak his fingers.

He could feel his pants start to get tighter, needing to release himself.

So, he did just that.

He unbuttoned his shirt too, needing to join you in your bare state.

He settled above you, staring at you again. He was now at the point of no return. Any sort of voices that were in his head telling him to stop had vanished. Instead, all he could think about is how much he needed you.

He kneeled between your legs that he pulled open. He stroked himself a few times, his tip already leaking with pre-cum.

He didn’t waste a moment to push inside you, maneuvering your hips to meet his. He tried to be gentle, but as he felt you wrapped around him, he didn’t stop until he bottomed out, a groan falling from his lips.

He continued to thrust into you, his strong arms holding himself above you.

His blue gaze found where his cock was driving into you, watching through the darkness how you two connected with every snap of his hips.

It’s not just the way your cunt felt around him that kept his intense pace, it’s the way he finally felt like he could do what he wished with you. It was a part of marriage, a part of being his that he had been waiting for since you put on that diamond ring.

He didn’t think about how the strands of his hair fell onto your face as he rutted into you, hips slapping against yours. He could feel you clench around him, body responding to his movements, even when you were asleep.

He brought his lips to one of your nipples, sucking on the supple skin, hand on the other breast.

So lost in his pleasure, he didn’t notice how your eyelids started to flutter. You barely cracked them open, the figure on top of you still a blurry mess.

Even if you wanted to call out to the first person you could think of in your state of confusion and fear, you couldn’t.

All that came out of your throat was a struggled cry.

Rafe didn’t fully stop his thrusting, only hesitating for a second before continuing.

He watched you squint up at him, your face slightly twisting.

He brought his lips to your ear, shushing you, hot breath fanning over you.

“Relax, baby. It’s just me,” he whispered. Shaky breaths still fell from him, in between his cooing.

“You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”

He could see how your eyelids got too heavy again, having no choice but to fall back asleep.

Moments later, he felt your walls spasm around him, bringing you to your orgasm.

It pushed him further off the edge until his cock twitched inside you. He made sure to keep himself nestled deep inside you as his warm, sticky cum flooded you.

He stayed there for a little while, trying to catch his breath, making sure all his work isn’t for nothing.

Images of your stomach swelling with his baby flashed in his mind. A little Cameron made from both of you.

It doesn’t really matter the circumstances around how the baby was made.

He just wanted something to show your love for him. A living, breathing piece of your love that can make the two of you whole.

Why was that so hard for you?

After everything was said and done, he made sure to clean you up, wiping your thighs, getting you dressed.

No one would have known anything out of the ordinary had happened.

If he did everything he could, why weren’t you responding?

Before he thinks about calling you, he hears the roar of an engine die and a slam of a car door.

He can see Jake in his rearview mirror.

Before Rafe gets out, he quickly opens his glove box.

He tucks the gun in the back of his shorts, making sure his shirt covers the cold metal before stepping out of his truck.

Tags:

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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