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#three years of you: tear myself apart
homestylehughes · 28 days
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shower sex
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pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: after a terrible day, luke knows just what y/n needs. because what's a better relaxation than shower sex?
wc: 1.7k
warnings: smut 18+. little plot, mostly smut! pure filth, no use of y/n. cussing, pet names, dirty talk. oral, fem receiving. unprotected sex, p n v. hints of some angst, and cute fluffy boyfriend luke.
authors note: hiiiii!! luke smut! luke smut! luke smut! i loved writing this, i love luke, going through a luke phase rn badddd. i got this idea when i was writing the headcanons for him earlier. so here it isssss. i loved writing this. like and reblog if you enjoy<3 as always much love<3
happy reading<3
I've actually had the worst day ever. Everything. I mean everything is going wrong today. I was late for work today because I missed my alarm, even with me sprinting throughout our apartment, and speeding to the office. I was still late.
Then, I spilled my coffee all over me. That was my second straw. The worst part about it was that I had to work in my coffee-covered clothes the whole day, not being able to afford to leave work, which would cause me to be even more behind than I was.
I had so much work to do, i stayed 3 extra hours over, not pulling out of the parking lot until almost 8 p.m. everything hurt, each part of my body was exhausted. To make things worse, if they could get even worse, I haven't seen Luke in almost a week. 
The hockey season is wrapping up but Luke has been busy with spending time with his family, after Jack's surgery and training for the worlds. 
We both had hoped that I'd be able to get time off from work to spend time with him and his family, taking a little break for myself. That obviously didn't happen. 
So now, im driving back home to our apartment, in coffee cover clothes, with a pounding headache and empty stomach. The tears are threatening to fall over my waterline. 
Parking quickly in the lot, I get out and grab my things, making my way through the lobby to the elevator. The ride to the 8 floor feels like 30 years before the door opening signaling its floor. 
I slowly trudge down the hall to our door, pushing my key in and turning the lock, the refreshing smell and sense of being home felt in my body. Immediately I drop my things by the door, kicking off my shoes as I do. 
There's three things on my mind right now: shower, eat maybe, and bed. Luke is also on my mind but I'm so exhausted I can't even bring myself to message him back from earlier. 
Making my way to the bathroom, turning the water on to the highest it can go, wanting to burn and wash away the aftermath of the day. Peeling off my clothes, my body quickly relaxes as soon as the hot water hits my body. Leaning my head back letting it run all over my face. 
I can't tell if the wetness on my face is just water or a mix of tears, at this point I'm not sure I care. 
After five or so minutes of letting the water run along my body I reach for the shampoo, starting to wash my hair. The scrubbing on my scalp and the smell of my shampoo is enough to send me into a daze. Wash and rinse and wash and rinse again, the same action repeated with conditioner. 
As I'm rinsing the last bit of conditioner out of my hair, my back turned away to the door of the shower, my eyes closed in relaxation. I feel a hand slowly trail around my waist, my eyes quickly open in confusion, my body fast to move away from the person behind me.
“Hey baby its just me” luke chuckles from behind me, pulling me back into his body from behind, his hands circling my waist rubbing small circles on my hips. 
“You scared me '' I say as I lean back into his body, “sorry baby didn't mean to”, he says, breathing into my neck, his warmth on my neck is enough to make my knees weak. 
“How was your day?” he says, face still nuzzled in my neck. I sadly laugh before i speak “my day was terrible so fucking terrible.” I can feel my eyes begin to fill with tears again. 
Luke is quick to turn me around, grabbing my face in his hands holding it to look at his. “Hey baby, don't cry, it's okay. I'm here now, i'm sorry i haven't been here recently” he says while his eyes are locked with mine, wiping his fingers under my eyes where tears have now fallen. 
Feeling stupid for crying i mute out a small “sorry” to Luke, feeling bad he has to watch me cry like a baby. 
“Hey no, don't feel sorry. It's okay to cry". I don't deserve him, I say to myself. Not knowing what else to say, I push my face to his, locking our lips together. It's been almost a week since i've kissed luke, i missed the feeling of his lips, i've missed the feeling of him around me in general. 
Luke is quick to respond by pulling my hips closer to his body, his other hand on the back of my head. Taking control of the kiss by pushing my lips harder against his.
His tongue pressing against my lips, begging to be let in, opening my mouth slightly against his, lukes hot tongue slides into my mouth. I don't even try to fight for dominance, I just let him take control.
Our bodies moving together against the stream of hot water, the glass door fogging up around us. My body feels like it's on cloud nine just from that. Lukes the first to pull away, his pupils blown with lust, lips swollen and pink. 
“Fuck i missed that” he says, hes hands begin trailing up my body grabbing at my hips, tracing his hands along the under neath of my breasts, the action alone causing me to shutter. 
“Luke” I breathe out, now looking up at him, “what baby” he smirks down at me, now trailing one of his hands to my left nipple, rolling it in between two of fingers. 
“I need you now” I say quietly, “what do you need baby?” Luke says, bringing his face close to mine.
“I want you to fuck me, please” luke wastes no time smashing our lips back to together, walking us backwards and turning us around. My back hits the cold tile, the sensation causing me to moan into lukes mouth, our tongues began to move against each other again. 
Luke suddenly pulls away from me, I whine at the loss of contact. “Be patient baby” he says, as he tails his hand between my legs, pulling my thighs apart, caging me in by putting one of his legs between my thighs and the other on the outside of my other leg. 
I gasp as a feel his fingers slide in between my folds, “fuck baby, who got you this wet?” “you luke, you.” I say trying to push my hips to meet his fingers, my body craving some type of release. 
“Youre a needy little thing tonight arent you baby” he says to me in a teasing tone, “yes i am, and i need you to fuck me now please luke, stop teasing me” i say finally finding my voice. 
“You want me to fuck this little cunt huh?” Luke rasps back to me as he begins to slowly enter two fingers inside of me, I'm so wet, that they just slide right in. 
“I think i might just tease you for a little while longer baby” still slowly moving his fingers in and out of me. My body is rocking against the motion of my fingers thrusting in and out of me.
“Fuck i need more luke, please” i say moaning out to him, hoping he can see how desperate i am for him right now. 
  “Since you asked so nicely” he says, quickly removing his fingers from my pussy. Grabbing one of my legs pulling it up against his hip. 
I pull his face against mine, my hands finding his hair tugging and pushing his mouth against mine, our teeth and tongues clashing against another.
Luke takes a hold of his cock, giving it a few quick pulls before he pushes into me completely. “Oh fuck luke” i moan against his mouth, “you feel so good around me fuck baby” he groans out from above me pulling our lips apart, as he begins thrusting in and out of me.
Each roll of his hips feels like a gift sent from god, his grip on my things hurts so good. I begin to roll my hips to meet his thrusts. 
“Fuck yeah right there baby” luke moans out “keep fucking yourself against me” he says dropping his face into my neck leaving bites in his wake. 
Luke brings my leg higher against his hip, the new angle causing my vision to fog over. “Luke fuck. Oh my gosh,” “right there baby please”. My hands running over the landscape of his back, my nails definitely leaving a trail of red hot marks in their wake. 
The sound of the shower running, and the sound of our skin slapping together fills the shower. I can feel the sweat forming on my body, as luke continues to fuck me. His hand sliding inbetween our bodies, to my clit. 
“Fuck luke, yes right there” i moan out loudly. “That feels good baby, right there yeah? You want me to rub your pretty clit as i fuck you?”. Fuck him and that dirty mouth, “yes luke please, dont stop im close” my eyes falling shut in pleasure. “Fuck baby, i can feel you squeezing against me”
Luke's thrusts began to speed up, I can feel my high approaching. “Fuck luke, dont stop” “im almost there” i say, pulling our lips back together, moaning into each other mouths. 
One last snap of Luke's hips hits right against my clit, causing my whole body to start shaking. “Im coming fuck” i can barely get out as waves of pleasure taking over. My vision is completely white, as my climax racks through my body. 
Luke drops his face against mine, as he comes his moans filling my ears, his hips still snapping against mine, as we both ride out our highs. 
Luke's hips stop moving, trying to catch his breath, as he pulls his face from my neck, I open my eyes slowly to see Luke looking back at me with a slight smirk on his face, our chests still rapidly falling. 
“I think the shower is cold ”Luke says to me while smiling, “I don't care.” I whisper back, pulling our lips together once again in another kiss. Already forgetting about the terrible day, once his lips are back on mine. 
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sucker4colby · 7 months
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Warm hands
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Anonymous Request : Hi! I was wondering if you could make an imagine with Colby and his s/o is 6-7 months pregnant. And what he would do with your baby bump, how he would take care of you, and what it would be like? I hope that makes sense.. lol thank you!
Warning: fluff! fluff! fluff! Pregnancy.
Word count :725
“Here babe let me help you” I heard Colby from behind the couch before I saw him. Letting out a sigh of relief I nodded accepting his help with putting my shoes on as I threw my head back against the back of the couch trying to catch my breath. My eyes screwed shut as air filled my lungs again relief settling over me as Colby helped me slip my sneakers on. “ I’m out of shape” I tried to joke opening my eyes to look at him kneeling in front of the couch. He snorted giving me an unamused look before going back to tying my laces.
“Yeah cause it’s not the whole human you’re carrying inside of you.” He sassed patting my knee as he finished helping me and joining me on the couch. The heat from his body sending shivers up my spine making me want to stay in and steal his body heat as we snuggle but we had promised Sam we’d help him run errands so that was out of the question. I smiled rubbing my 7 month baby bump that laid under my grey hoodie. “ he’s only 3 pounds right now.” I retorted giving in and snuggling into his side as he replaced my hands with his on my tummy.
There was not a moment when Colby wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to touch my bump ever since he found out we were expecting. The moment he found out, he was rubbing over my then flat belly cooing about how he was excited to meet our baby. It was crazy that I had kept it from him scared that he wouldn’t want to be apart of our lives but he had proven me completely wrong with how hands on he has been and how clingy he had gotten but I loved every ounce of attention.
My heart sped up as Colby’s warm hands crawled under the sweatshirt caressing my bare skin causing me to blush. To this day I still found myself acting like a school girl with her crush as if I wasn’t carrying his child three years into our relationship, it’s just the effect Colby Brock had always had on me from the moment we met. But I wasn’t the only one excited by his touch, the baby shifted as he felt Colby’s familiar presence. I giggled in excitement my head snapping up to look at the man beside me who was in a fit of laughter at the sensation.
The baby had only just began kicking a week prior catching us by surprise. With this being our first pregnancy I never anticipated what the baby kicking would feel like but the fluttering had scared me half to death ( Colby along with me) as I wailed about something being wrong. It was only when his mom reassured us over the phone that the baby was simply kicking that we knew what was going on happy tears replacing the ones of worry.
“ I can’t get over him kicking.” He mumbled shifting his body so he could lean down towards my stomach. I shivered as he rolled the material up under my breast the cold air causing goosebumps on my skin. He noticed right away rubbing his warm hands up and down my stomach placing kisses all over. I had no idea how he did it but it was coming in handy that his hands always were warm.
“You’re getting to heavy for mom in there huh big guy.” He cooed causing more kicks. I scrunched my face at the weird sensation still getting used to the alien like feeling. He moved his hands to grip mine worry etched on his face thinking I was in discomfort. I quickly reassured him I was ok knowing he would panic instantly.
Colby had been nothing but perfect always making sure we were both ok and comfortable, making midnight runs for snacks to settle my cravings, offering massages when I’m feeling sore, and putting up with my mood swings. I knew I was utterly blessed with the man in front of me and he never failed to spoil me. All my nerves and worries about our future always melted away knowing Colby was there to carry the weight of parenthood with. We were far from perfect but this life was perfect for us.
Hi guys it’s been a while !
My tablet has been getting fixed and most of my stories are saved on there and I just didn’t have the energy to try to recreate everything 😅
I will be trying to post more during these holidays and I’ll be revisiting old stories and editing so feel free to requested!
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milfloveer · 4 months
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Proof of love ♡
Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader
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Prompt: After y/n gets a little stressed about her and Sherlock's relation and— Well, Sherlock shows her how he really loves her ;)
Warnings: smut 18+ minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20s and Sherlock in his 30s), p in v, unprotected sex, fluff, creampie
A/n: I need Sherlock in my life so badly 😩
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚ ⊹ ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Sherlock and I just arrived home after attending a high society party so we could unfold more information about this recent case. Enola and Tewkesbury were there too, the first working on her case as well and the later was there on work behalf as he is a Lord and has his duties as one.
Enola was clearly bothered with all the feminine attention Lord Tewkesbury was given. I couldn't censure her as I was feeling the same towards Sherlock and all those ladies around him asking for a dance, their hands all over my man. Enola and I just rolled our eyes and focused on our cases ignoring each woman who approached the men.
•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•
Sherlock opened the door to his apartment and we walked in, I was clearly frustrated and it didn't slip Sherlock's gaze "You alright, darling?" he asks tenderly and cautiously.
I turn to him and see his concern "Yes, love, everything's alright." I say, even though I was lying. Those interactions all night long made me feel easily discarded and replaced.
Sherlock and I relationship was somewhat recent, we were only together for half a year and yet none of us dared to say those three simple words.
I can say that I care for him deeply, I got really attached to his personality, behaviour, the manner he works and thinks, his papers all around his apartment in a perfectly messy way, the way he played the violin when wanted to relax and get lost for a moment.
I truly fell for this exquisite detective, but I didn't dare to say those words to his face as I was afraid he wasn't feeling what I was. So I kept it to myself until now.
Sherlock frowns and follows me to our shared room "Darling, I know you and I can tell something is up." he says with concern in his voice as I try to unzip my dress, ending to ask him for help on it. He gladly does "Please talk to me." his voice wavering a bit making me look at him worriedly.
I sigh seeing his saddened face as I've never seen him like this. Getting closer to him I lay my hands, one on each side of his face and look deep into his eyes with tenderness "It is nothing important of concern, honey." I say softly, trying to brush it off.
But then again, Sherlock Holmes wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes without discovering the truth "It is concerning you and if it is concerning you, it is concerning me." he says pointing between us as he talks "Please, don't leave me in the dark, dove." he says while holding my gaze and I gave in and told him everything I was feeling at the party and when all the female attention is on him, how replaceable I feel, how dischargeable, how ridiculous.
I was now sitting at the end of our bed with my head hanging as my eyes freely released tears while looking at our hands interlocked on my lap "Oh, dear, why haven't you talked about this with me?" he asks caringly, I sniff and he brings his index finger and thumb to my chin, lifting it so I could look into those blue pools "I didn't want to overreact." I say barely above a whisper, he smiles softly "It's not overreacting dear and I assure you here that I have only eyes for you, my beautiful girl." he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek afterwards and cleaning the remaining of my tears with his thumb.
"Prove it then." I blurt out shocking myself with my boldness, but nonetheless Sherlock chuckles darkly making me shiver "With pleasure, darling." he says as he leans over me making me lay down on the mattress behind me.
Now hovering over me he caresses my sides teasingly as his lips brush mine. No words were said as he connects strongly and lovingly his lips to mine eliciting a moan from me. He starts lowering his hands as his lips move to my neck and collarbone, teasing and marking all the soft spots.
I was already on my undergarments making me start to take off his clothes as he's still fully clothed, first his jacket, then his tie and vest, his shirt and belt were now off and he pulled down his pants discharging them somewhere in the room.
"Please, I need you." I say tugging at the waistband of his underwear, he chuckles "Eager are we?" he asks making me flush as I nod. He frees himself as I take off of me the remains of my underwear.
Now both fully naked we scan each others body "You're so beautiful." he growls caressing my side with his fingertips before capturing my lips while aligning himself with my entrance. As he enters me my mouth falls open and a moan echoes through the room "Oh dear." he says against my ear, his arms each on either side of my body, his hands behind my back, flat on my shoulder blades as he moves lovingly in and out of me.
My legs wrap around his waist pulling him closer as my nails dig into his back certainly leaving some scratches over it. Both breathing heavily and moaning into each other's ears; I love this man so much.
Sherlock speeds up his pace hitting a wonderful spot inside me over and over "Yes, honey, don't stop!" I say gasping sensing the tension building up each time he pounds into me. He then gets on his knees bringing my legs up to rest on his shoulders, I cry out in pleasure as he groans pounding strongly "I'm so close, Sherlock." I say, my legs start to tremble with the feeling.
With a few more pushes and I'm taken over the edge, Sherlock following, spilling his seed into me "Ah, Sherlock!" I say pushing him down and kissing his lips eagerly and then softly. As he pulls away he brushes against my lips, whispering "I love you." I froze and look up at him "What?" I breathe out starstruck about his confession, his eyes widen as he realized he just confessed his feelings for me out loud.
I bring my hand to his cheek and caress it, I smile before letting out a soft chuckle as my eyes fill with happy tears. I lift my head so I could reach his slightly trembling lips and close the gap, the kiss is slow, tender and filled with love, as we were telling without words 'I love you'.
Slightly I pull away and whisper against his lips "I love you too." his eyes widen slightly hearing the words slip like honey from my mouth making me smile lovingly at the man still above me.
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
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can u do a fic where chris is w/ pregnant Reader and the reader has to tell him but chris finds out by himself. sorry if it’s so dry 😅
baby love // chris sturniolo
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kinda took a different spin on this idea… hope you enjoy!!
summary: when you and your friends jokingly take some pregnancy tests, the nights becomes very serious when one of them comes up positive.
I had invited my friends over for some drinks tonight, the first time we’ve all been able to catch up with our busy work schedules and some of our studies.
I had been so busy trying to be a good host, making use of the limited room in my apartment, that my drink had sat untouched for hours.
No stupid ideas had been made until my friend Ramona opened her mouth.
“This is gonna sound super weird,” she started to say. “But I had ordered a few shitty pregnancy tests to prank my boyfriend with, and I don’t know what to do with the rest, so I brought them over and I thought we could all take one for shits and giggles.”
“That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Lula remarked. I couldn’t keep myself from agreeing.
“We’ve all been drinking,” I remind Ramona. “If someone’s pregnant then we shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Well, none of us are gonna be pregnant,” she says in a matter of fact tone. “It’s just preparation for when we’re all pregnant at the same time, taking tests together.”
“I think it’s a cute idea, but maybe that’s the tequila talking,” Ellie adds.
I shrug, laughing at them. “Whatever, you guys go have fun peeing together.”
“Ummm,” Ramona looks at me with a devilish smile. “You’re coming with!”
Despite my arguing, here I am in the bathroom, peeing on a stick.
To make this situation worse, Ellie thought it was a great idea to scramble the tests up, so now we have no idea which test belonged to which person.
I leaned against the wall of the bathroom while my three friends stared at the sink’s counter, waiting for the results.
At the sound of a timer going off, my friends squealed as they flipped the tests over.
“Oh my god,” they say together.
It’s in that moment that I run to the sink, looking to see what they are gasping at.
Shit.
One of these is positive, and we have no clue who.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s take some more tests. You have more, right?”
Ramona grabs her bag, scrambling for some more pregnancy tests. “I have two. So if two of us take it and they’re negative, we can get two more and try the other two girls. If one of these is positive, then we know who it was.”
“I’ll do it,” Ellie volunteers. “I hooked up with a guy a few weeks ago. My period hasn’t come around yet, but we hooked up at the end of my cycle, so I haven’t missed it yet. I’m not gonna be able to relax until I know if I’ve been drinking while I’m… you know.”
Lula stares at me from across the bathroom.
“What?” I snap, now scared of the chances of one of these belonging to me.
“You’re the one with a long term boyfriend,” she reminds me, mumbling, like she can sense that I’m about to break.
Chris and I have been dating less than a year. Everything is great, but I’m in no way in the position to have a baby right now. Neither is Chris.
“Whatever. I’ll take it,” I say, and I’m playing that same waiting game again.
This time, we keep track of the tests, mine in my hand, and Ellie’s in hers. We stand in a circle silently, until the timer interrupts our peace again.
When I flip the test over, I feel everything around me fall.
Fuck.
I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I want to be a mom more than anything, but I wanted to do this with Chris. I wanted us to plan this out. I wanted us to take the test together. I wanted us to be married, have a place together. I wanted this to be for us, not for my friends to suggest taking tests as a joke.
Thank god I didn’t have that drink.
I sit on the edge of the toilet, tears coming out of me before I can process any emotion. I cant figure out what these tears are. Happy? Sad? Confused? Scared?
I just want Chris.
The girls left for the night. We spent the next few hours trying to make light of the situation. They were supportive of me and wanted me to gather myself, and we practiced what I’m going to tell Chris.
I mean, there’s no doubt that this is his. It’s only ever been me and him.
As I’m finishing up my cleaning, I hear two knocks on my apartment door, followed by the creak of the hinges as the door swings open.
“Hey, baby,” Chris smiles at me.
I feel my heart drop, knowing I have this secret on the tip of my tongue, but I have no idea how to get it out.
I wave to him, I fucking wave to my boyfriend. I can’t make a sound.
“Baby?” he asks, his gaze softening. He can always sense when something is wrong.
He calls me baby all the time, but hearing it after the news I got today just makes me frown. I can’t keep this from him.
He hurries over to me when he sees my face drop. His arms wrap around me in the tightest, most secure hug, only making me more emotion. The tears start spilling out, and without realizing, I’m fucking wailing.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he says quietly, in a comforting tone. He sways us back and forth, trying to calm me down.
“Can I show you something?” I whisper, trying not to break down even more if I try raising my voice.
“Of course.”
I grab his hand, pulling him to my bathroom. I lead him in front of the sink and point to the two positive pregnancy tests sitting on the counter. It takes him a moment to realize what they are, but when he does, I watch the color wash from his face. He swallows nervously, making me cry even more. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Not at all.
I let out another sob, and in that moment, Chris puts his own fears aside to comfort me again. He turns me away from the test, hiding them from my viewpoint. He holds me against his chest, keeping my grounded as he shushes me.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay,” he assures me. “It’s gonna be fine.”
I shake my head against him. “You have your career. There’s so much you want to do. We had so many things we wanted to accomplish before we ever thought of a family.”
“Babe,” he says, cutting me off and grabbing my cheeks so I look at him, and only him. “This is between you and me. And I want to be with you more than anything else in the world. I have my whole life ahead of me to expand my career, but if this is a sign that this is the time we were meant to have a family, then I’m game if you are. You make the call here. I know what I want, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to make any one decision because of me.”
I love this man. So fucking much.
“I want to have babies with you,” I say. He nods, smiling softly.
“I want to have babies with you,” he says back.
“I wanted to do this together,” I tell him what I had told my friends. “I wanted this to be special.”
“It is special, because this is us. This is what was supposed to happen, don’t you think?”
I nod, letting him wipe my tears.
“All I want is for you to be happy. You can move in with me, or we can get our own place. We have a lot to figure out but trust me when I say it will get figured out. And you’re going to be the best fucking mom this world has ever seen.”
Some of that fear is replaced with excitement and passion at his words of encouragement, and he makes me sure of the fact that I could never imagine this with someone else.
It was always supposed to be him.
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm-blog @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months
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My Found Family
I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.
This guy is now my father...
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"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"
Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.
It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.
It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.
"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.
"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.
For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.
It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.
With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.
I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...
I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...
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"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"
I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.
A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!
Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.
"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.
"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.
"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"
I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."
"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"
Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.
I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...
My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...
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A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.
"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.
"Great," I moan without any emotion.
Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.
Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.
"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.
Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.
His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."
I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.
This is another new development.
Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.
"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.
My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."
"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.
"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.
Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..
I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...
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"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.
Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.
"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.
I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.
I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.
My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!
"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"
It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!
Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.
I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"
"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.
I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...
...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!
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robintherobiner · 5 months
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yesterday i spent an hour in the shower talking to myself about how I think a reverse robins au would go, mainly in the case of Tim taking Jasons place as the revived second robin. I took the Joker Junior thing and decided "Hm.. yes, this is how Tim dies."
I have many thoughts about it.
Basically, Tim's 15, has been Robin for almost two years, when his dad dies. Like in canon, Tim makes a very strategic plan which could lead to the murderers death, but Batman finds out and Tim doesn't enact it. Bruce is still mad about it, and Tim storms out the manor to go visit his dad's grave. While on the way, he gets kidnapped by the Joker and he's tortured for three weeks because Bruce thinks he's just being an angry teen giving the silent treatment. By the time he realises something is wrong and goes to find Tim, the boy is already dead. After shooting the Joker, he shot himself, and Harley Quinn is no where to be found.
Then, six months after being buried, he wakes up in his grave, right besides his father. He digs out, is found by Talia, and taken to be trained. With Jason, Ra's didn't want to heal him and Talia did it without permission, but in this au, Talia is the one who doesn't want to heal him. She thinks he's too similar to Bruce, and that she won't be able to trick him. Ra's thinks he can. He's wrong, of course.
Instead of reclaiming the name Red Hood, Tim decides to stay as Junior. After all, he was extremely mentally unstable before his death, so i think he'd still be suffering fron the torture and think Batman = bad, Joker = good. After a little while, he manages to recover a bit, but he's still mad at Bruce.
Jason forgave Bruce for not saving him, but was angry he didn't get justice.
Tim forgave Bruce for not getting him justice, but he's angry he didn't get saved.
Tim comes back to Gotham and is a lot more sneaky with his crimes. Red Hood came in guns a-blazing, straight away starting to clean Gotham up, but Junior is much more behind the scenes. If the criminals decided to do good, they'd live. It's not his fault the house they broke in to had rabid dogs squatting in it, or that their hard drives were suddenly copied and shared to everyone they knew.
Instead of attacking the new Robin, he kidnaps her instead. Sends Batman cryptic messages like "better find her soon or she'll end up like the last bird" or "you should keep a better eye on your things, Batsy". Bruce is tearing Gotham apart searching for Stephanie, thinking she's being tortured by a Joker wannabe, when actually she's just being forced to sit through slideshows about the dangers of being a child soldier and told annoying knock-knock jokes over burgers.
I might write a fic about this 🤭
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mrchiipchrome · 8 months
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New Girlfriend
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W.C. - 1.8 k
prompt 18. -Only I belong with you and only you babe.
prompt 20. -I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.
a/n: 1. I only know how to intrduce myself in Spanish, so excuse if it's wrong, 2. there's a list of prompts linked in my masterlist if you want to request:)
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3 years. You had just spent three damn years loving someone who was willing to chuck all that away in a second. Three wonderful years tarnished in the span of a minute, just because she decided that you weren’t enough for her.
Just because Alexia decided she was bored, of you and of your relationship.
When she just a week ago told you that you were done, over text nonetheless, you simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Everything was going so well, she hadn’t given you any indication of being unhappy whatsoever.
When the shock passed, the despair set in. What could you possibly have done to warrant being broken up with that way? Had you really been that bad of a girlfriend?
The thundering crack of your phone screen hitting the floor marks your breaking point, curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing until nothing more comes out. 
You’re not even surprised that she doesn’t return back to the shared apartment you once saw as your home, now everything was just a reminder of her and how she’d been yours only seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks before.
And no matter how much you cry, how much secretly wearing her hoodies tears a hole in your heart all over again, you know that she’s not yours anymore. You’ll never feel her feather light touch late at night again, never feel her lips pressing against yours again, never feel her nails scratching at your back.
Her new girlfriend was so much prettier than you, kinder eyes, glossier hair, better lashes, bigger tits, rounder ass. How could you ever compare to that?
Seeing her face everyday at training had you close to breaking down in tears, every look into your favorite pair of eyes bringing you that much closer to the edge.
The only way for you to not fold in two every single second you spend in her presence, is to outright ignore her. 
Something she doesn’t take too kindly to.
Dragging your feet against the floor, you’re instantly reminded of how Alexia used to chastise you for doing that exact thing.
All of a sudden, you can feel your shoulder being pulled on harshly. Stumbling back into the body of the mystery person, you can feel the familiar curves under your fingertips, her fingers clutching painfully at your shoulder. 
“Can we talk?” She rasps out, staring into your eyes with an indescribable amount of venom. The way she was looking at you, you’d think you were the one who broke up with her over text.
“No” Pulling your shoulder away from her iron vise grip, she doesn’t even get a glance in her direction.
“No te alejes de mi Y/n, you do not walk away from me.” Her thick spanish accent covers the english words, the once charming zing of her accent now only making you want to throw up.
“There’s nothing to talk about Alexia. You broke up with me over text, you didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes as you threw away 3 years.” Now it was her turn to not look you in the eyes, turning her eyes down to the sidewalk. 
“Say something then Alexia, that’s what you wanted to do right, talk.” You see how her lips move but no words come out, almost like she was expecting you to just lay down and admit defeat. Foolish of her.
“Good talk Alexia, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, don’t forget to pick your things up from the apartment.” Turning on your heel, you feel her stare into the back of your head.
“Will you stop being so sour? I broke up with you a month ago, get over it!” She screams after you.
“Are you that far removed from reality Alexia? You think a MONTH heals your heart from being crushed?” You shoot back, in disbelief at her lack of knowledge of feelings.
“Dios mío Y/n, I hope you find peace for yourself” She tells you calmly, feelings spilling into her voice despite her attempt at composure.
“You do know that a new girlfriend ain’t going to fill the void right? She’s not going to love you like I do, like I did, she’s not going to be there for you like I was. When you realize that, you will come crawling back to me.” You spit back at her, equal amount of emotion in your voice as in hers.
When you turn away from her this time, you actually walk away from her and to your car, driving away from her and the argument. 
That evening is spent drowning your sorrows in ice cream and Alexia’s old very expensive wine. She wouldn’t miss it, she’s got 1000 other things to worry about.
Foolishly, in your drunken stupor you decided that it was a brilliant idea to agree to a night out with the team…including Alexia.
The anticipation of that Sunday night created a lump of anxiety that sat uncomfortably in your stomach, growing like a balloon being blown up until it fully consumed you. 
Foot tapping against the floor, you check your watch for the umpteenth time, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. You were sure that the loose button would manage to come off before Pina and Patri would pull up, the two planning on getting drunk beyond recognition.
Sucking your teeth, you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you hear the loud noise of the car’s horn.
“HOLA Y/N” Patri shouts in your face directly after you’ve sat down in the backseat, the young girl reeking of alcohol.
“Someone’s already started the party, ey?” You get out through a hesitant chuckle, Pina meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror. 
Without much fuss, you all get to the venue, though the ball of pure anxiety was settling in your throat uncomfortably. The confidence you had only days ago was long gone, nervous picking at your fingers showcasing that.
When you stepped foot in that bar, the smell of alcohol and far too strong perfume hit your nose, overwhelming all your senses.
Yet everything seems to calm as soon as you catch sight of your ex, simply put she looked out of this world. 
No, you tell yourself, I can’t think of her like that anymore.
“Y/n/n let’s go to the bar, I need something to drink!” Pina close to shouts directly into your ear, the young girl clutching onto your right arm like her life depended on it.
You let yourself be pulled along by the two younger girls, setting your body down in one of the barstools, Pina and Patri each hanging off your shoulders. They each order their drinks, waiting for you to do the same.
“Just a coke please” The bartender sent you a quick wink before moving away, Thing 1 and Thing 2 ohhhh-ing loudly. 
“Your drinks ladies!” The pretty bartender hands you the glasses, your coke still in its glass container. Before you leave to join your friends, the woman slides you a piece of paper, her number written on it.
The blush stays on your face all the way until you reach the large table, ready to put your bottle down on the table. It seems like a certain someone was waiting for you to rid yourself off it before pulling you away from the rest.
“Hey, leave me alone!” You shout, not having seen the face of your perpetrator, but the nails digging into your arm gave you a slight indication as to who it was.
Next thing you know, you’re being pushed up against a wall, familiar lips locking with your own. Alexia presses her body up against yours tightly, leaving as small of a space between your bodies as she could.
Pulling your lips away from hers, you quickly wipe your sticky lips.
“Alexia, what are you doing?” The absolute disbelief in your voice makes her look at you like you were stupid.
“I saw how that fucking bartender was hitting on you, I had to send her a message. Only I belong with you and only you amor” She’s got a smug smirk on her face, looking back at the stunned bartender.
“No, Alexia, you broke up with me. You don’t get to do that because we’re not together anymore, I am not yours Alexia. I can date and fuck whoever I want, and you can’t do anything about that and it’s your fault.”
Walking away from her, like you’d done only days before, she once again calls out for you.
“You were right, she wasn’t like you. I have no explanation for why I did what I did, but I just want to apologise, it wasn’t…fair of me.” Her pauses between some of the words show how she’s truly trying her best to apologise.
“I want you back Y/n” You couldn’t even lie to her, say that you didn’t want to get back together, because it was the only thing you’d been thinking about these last few weeks.
Sighing, you look at your watch, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the doors. The cold evening air nips at your skin as you start to talk.
“You broke me Ale, and it’s going to take awhile to make up for that. If we’re getting back together then it’s on my terms, okay?” Alexia nods vigorously, she’d clearly do anything to get you back.
“Can I kiss you?” The timidness in her voice has you close to awwww-ing, leaning back against the brickwall while Alexia leans against the railing parallel to you.
Her intense gaze stays on you as you rest your head back against the cold hardened clay, exhaling through slightly chapped lips. The cloud that forms in the air presents the contrast between the warmth of your body and the cold of the night.
“That’s all I want” This time your lips lock in a calm dance, all the feelings of sorrow and longing being expressed in a single kiss.
"How about we get out of here?” Her hands lay flat against your chest, fiddling slightly with the material of your shirt. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Alexia look up at you through her eyelashes.
“Oh, amor I’m driving Thing 1 and Thing 2 home. I promised them I’d stay over at their place and take care of them after.” You kiss her hairline as she herself chuckles.
Wrapping your arms around her waist, she places her head on your chest, the vibrations of the tune you were humming sending her heart into overdrive.
“But we could stay out here for a while instead, I like having you back in my arms.” The only response you get is a kiss pressed to the column of your neck.
It would take a while for Alexia to get you back, it didn’t matter if it took 10 days or 10 years, as long as she got you back. 
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ficnation · 7 months
Text
Chapter 4: Bon Appétit
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)
This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist
Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist
PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
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When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.
“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.
“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 
“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.
It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.
“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”
Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”
You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.
“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.
For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.
Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.
“I have to keep seeing him.”
You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.
You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.
You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 
Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.
He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.
“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.
“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 
Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.
“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”
You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.
You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.
“Change your fucking tone, Will.”
You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.
“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.
Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.
“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.
Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.
“I’m proposing.”
The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.
“What the fuck, Will?”
Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.
“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”
You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?
“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”
“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”
He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”
Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.
“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 
“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”
A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.
“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 
Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.
You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.
“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 
A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.
“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.
“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”
And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 
Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 
“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”
The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.
“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.
Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.
Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.
“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.
You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.
Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.
The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 
You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.
Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 
You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 
There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 
You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.
“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 
The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 
“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.
It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 
Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.
It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.
Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.
You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.
Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.
You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.
“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.
“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”
You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.
“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.
Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.
“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 
You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.
Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.
“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 
“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”
Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.
“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”
“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.
Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 
“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 
Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.
After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.
“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.
Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 
“I know.”
His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.
You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”
Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.
“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”
“Why does she want you to stay away?”
“Because I tried to kill him.”
You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.
“How?”
Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”
You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”
A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”
Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.
“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.
“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.
The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.
“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.
You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.
“If you…”
“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.
“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”
Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.
“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 
Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.
“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”
Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 
When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.
“I love you, Will.”
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like
--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---
A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic
He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 
They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 
Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 
You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 
"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 
A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 
For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  
His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 
That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 
And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 
You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 
"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 
Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 
Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.
"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 
As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 
One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 
He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 
No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 
My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.
A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way
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zombholic · 7 months
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Omg imagine if reader has a cat and she cuddles with it all the time. And abby/ellie get jealous of a cat. Like they sit there all pouty waiting for the reader to realize 😪
-🦕 (im gonna use this emoji to depict myself)
JEALOUS OF A CAT — abby anderson
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Ever since your girlfriend of three years asked you to move in with her into her apartment she never once stopped giving your sweet old cat death glares. He was a little old man who loved cuddles and attention but if Abby came near him he was quick to swat her away.
“Abby, he’s a cat.” You were laughing so hard you felt tears running down your face.
“He’s a fucking asshole!” Abby was now standing behind the couch watching your cat bully her off her spot.
Abby swears up and down that when you’re gone the poor cat tries to square up with her. A tall, broad, muscular woman is afraid of your old fragile cat.
“I can’t even cuddle you when we’re sleeping because he fucking hisses at me.” She rolls her eyes annoyed that he always had all your attention.
“Look.” She walked over to sit behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist trying to nuzzle her face into your neck.
Your cat had gotten up and walked over to you two before slapping at Abby’s arms.
“See! He thinks you guys are fucking married or something and i’m the other woman.” Her jealousy towards the cats makes you laugh even harder that breathing stopped becoming an option.
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Mirror: The Fiction and Essays of Kōda Aya translated by Ann Sherif
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The papers in those days always had some amazing news in them - from the attempted military coup of February the year before to the start of fighting in China just three months later. A ferocious gale had come sweeping through, causing small whirlwinds some days and, at other times, a tremendous commotion that stirred up everything, even the dust in the forgotten corners of the world. I was just a speck of dust in one of the narrowest, most remote niches. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
A kimono worn by a woman immature in her emotions can be a powerful thing. Or, to put it another way, clothes have the strength to control one's psyche. To me, the striped outfit was a uniform; it gave me a sense of direction and a feeling of pride in my work. The apron shielded me from all arrows; it acted as a cast to brace me against all blows. It was a metal fire door behind which I could hide the anguish of my heart. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
What other child would fail to rise to the occasion when her father was being so honored? He was my only father, and I his only child. Is this any way to behave? I had lost my way at the bottom of a deep abyss. I cast my eyes upward, toward my father, only to see him dimly shrouded by mist. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
I know nothing about the breadth of my father's learning, nor do I pretend to understand the scope of his art. I could not tell you what came to him as a matter of luck, what he accomplished through his own talents, nor about his stature among men. Though I may be vastly ignorant, I do have enough sense not to entertain the foolish notion that he is some kind of lion of literature, a king among writers. He was just my father. From my own biased viewpoint, I would say that Father possessed some lionlike qualities, but there were those of a lion who would finish you off or give you the push-off-the-cliff test. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
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Father was an unusual man. He would point out the beauty of blossoms or clouds in the sky with the very whip he had cracked a moment before. With the same knife he had just used to rive your innards, he would slice up a wedge of some delicacy for you. No one else I knew could perform such feats. There was something solid about him. I felt all at once like a contrite sinner and a puppy dog who is eager to please. I wanted to cut all ties with him, but at the same time I needed him to recognize me as worthy of his love. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
Higuchi Ichiyo's nephew Higuchi Etsu once said about [me and my father]: "The parent dons a medal, and the child an apron." I made a show of laughing at his comment, but only because I wanted to hide my weakness. In fact, that apron chafed against my hands and my heart with its unyielding roughness. - Kōda Aya, "The Medal"
One often hears about the magical powers of mirrors. Certainly the mirror's ability to reflect creates this feeling of mystery. The objects around the viewer look so different in the mirror - what was one may multiply into two or even three. Objects that had appeared to be piled up come apart. Something might look real in the mirror, but then when you try to touch it, you can't. It seems to be there but it makes no sound. Is it real or just an illusion? Sometimes you can see through things in a mirror. Some things seem actually to be alive inside the mirror, but once the reflection stops moving, the illusion of life is gone. The mirror's power resides in this ability to confound. - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"
My life was not going smoothly. I could not handle the problems that confronted me and became unbelievably nervous and stubborn. At times, any little thing would set me off in a rage; often I would get upset and break down in tears. I had so many things on my mind. In those days I consoled myself by leaning up against my mirror. To think how proud I had felt of it on my wedding day. Now all I could do was crouch up against it and sigh. In that house it was the only place where I felt calm. The mirror served more as a support for my emotions than as a glass in which I could see my reflection. The sunny location I had chosen for it had been part of my effort to avoid sadness and gloom in my life, but ironically it ended up lodging a darkened, tired soul. I did, in any case, feel most peaceful when I sat by my mirror. - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"
The first time I wiped the glass, I was shocked to discover how dirty a mirror can become. One usually does not notice the dust; a mirror will reflect even when covered with a heavy layer of grime. And once you get used to this, you may end up looking at yourself and trying to make yourself presentable with powder and lipstick, unaware that you are seeing yourself through a haze. But who bothers to dust mirrors? If even smoothly polished glass attracts dust how much more would accumulate on a troubled heart? - Kōda Aya, "A Friend for Life"
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here2bbtstrash · 2 years
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compromise (explicit)
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genre: twilight AU, straight-up cracky-ass porn, do not look @ me
pairing: vampire!taehyung x human!reader x werewolf!jungkook
summary: you're torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don't have to choose.
word count: 10k 😬
contains: explicit sexual content~*~ no seriously like i wrote this with my dick it is EXCLUSIVELY twilight-flavored porn sdhfjdkgsdf - taehyung is a vampire, jungkook is a werewolf, reader is in love with both of them, they can't stand each other, yktfv !!!! this is actually an incredibly poorly negotiated threesome, so uh, don't do it like this kids!!!!! just enjoy the filth 🫡 which specifically contains: a m/m/f threesome ft. mid-sex jealousy lol, biting, nipple play, clit stim and fingering, clit biting 💀, cunnilingus, spitting, neck.... licking?, a lot of body temperature descriptions bc we're sticking to steph's hot/cold lore bc i think it's funny idk, blowjobs/throat fucking, spit-roasting, first times, unprotected sex, some mildly improbable sex positions because they both have superhuman strength lmfao, a smidge of dirty talk/praise kink, ass play, anal sex, good ol' DP, annnnnd the grand finale: neck-biting and blood-drinking 🤭 also tae and jk throw "slurs" like 'leech' and 'dog' at each other the whole time sdfsdfjkf 💜
A/N: SURPRISE! AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I WILL NOT BE EXPLAINING MYSELF BUT UHHHH ENJOY SOME NONSENSE!!!!
thank you to @haliiimede for the incredible banner 🥺
read on AO3!
~*~
You’ve been on edge all evening, watching, waiting.
As the sun slips below the horizon and reddens the sky on its departure, you try not to read it as an omen of what’s to come. Night pours out black like it always does, dark blanketing the lush green outside your bedroom window, but your stomach refuses to untwist.
Not even the touch of Taehyung’s hand can settle your nerves, despite how familiar it is, cold as ice, hard as marble. He’d climbed in your window at dusk, the way he’s done every night for months now, but tonight the air between you is heavy. Tonight you can barely look at him.
“Jagiya,” his hundred-year-old voice drips, sweet like honey, rich like blood in the quiet of your room. “What’s wrong?”
You haven’t even opened your mouth to answer when his head snaps up, clearly alerted by some sound your weak human ears have yet to pick up on.
Right on time, then.
“Tae,” you murmur softly, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb strokes lovingly over the flawless perfection of his face as your human eyes meet his: rich ochre, deep enough to drown in. He’s well-fed; you made sure that would be the case when you planned this. You need every possible element on your side tonight.
He cuts you off with a growl before you can say more than his name. “Why is that dog here?”
The word spat through his clenched teeth sends a fresh wave of anxiety spiraling through your bloodstream. “Please don’t call him that, Tae.” Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “He’s my best friend. I wanted the three of us to talk.”
You realize you can hear it now, coming up the road: the distant but unmistakable rattle of Jungkook’s motorcycle. It draws closer and closer, until it’s underscored by the crunch of gravel as he pulls into the driveway. When Jungkook finally kills the engine, the silence in your bedroom feels loud.
Taehyung doesn’t speak, but you can tell he’s furious, every muscle in his body pulled tight. His hands curl into fists, flexing restlessly at his sides, and even the well-defined line of his jaw jumps like he’s holding back the urge to tear something apart.
You do the only thing you can think of to calm your boyfriend: you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a deep kiss.
As your lips touch, it finally sinks in: how scared you are about tonight– you’re shaking like a leaf in Taehyung’s arms, even though you know he’d never hurt you. At least not purposefully.
The heat of your mouth seems to distract Taehyung a little, but there’s still fury in his kiss, in the soft growls that he can’t quite suppress as his tongue rolls over yours.
Your bedroom door creaks on its hinges, and you pull away from Taehyung just in time to see a bright smile drop off Jungkook’s face as he stands in the threshold. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Three seconds in and you’ve already ruined everything. How very human of you.
Moving an inch back from Taehyung, you unwind your arms from around his neck and try to regard both of them at once. This conversation suddenly feels much harder to navigate than you’d anticipated.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you say softly. Your best friend is practically glowering in the doorway now.
“I thought you wanted to talk. I don’t need to see him turn you. Or suck your soul out, or whatever.”
You try to stay calm, because someone has to. “It was just a kiss, Jungkook. I meant it, I do want to talk.” Your gaze flits from Jungkook to Taehyung. “To both of you.” As your eyes find Jungkook’s again, you pat the bedspread on your other side. “Will you come sit down?”
Taehyung makes a noise so otherworldly that chills rip up your spine, enough to make you shiver. “He’s fine where he is.”
“Tae,” you turn back to him, your face twisted with emotion. “Please.”
Jungkook crosses into the room with an unhurried confidence despite the slight hesitation in his steps, as if he’s preparing for your boyfriend to lunge at any moment but sure he’d win the fight. To your surprise, he doesn’t follow the path you’d indicated to join you and Taehyung. Instead, he moves to stand in front of you at the foot of the bed, and then–
Your jaw drops as Jungkook, still slow, still confident, sinks to his knees in front of you and Taehyung.
“How’s this?”
“Swearing your loyalty, mutt?” Taehyung snaps.
Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Not to you.”
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you murmur softly. “And thank you for coming here. And I’m sorry I haven’t told either of you why.”
“You didn’t even tell me he was coming!” Taehyung interjects, indignant, and you sigh.
“You’re right. And I should have. But you can see why I was scared to, right? I didn’t think either of you would agree if you knew you’d be in the same room.”
They both shrug a little, like they can’t argue with that.
It all starts to well up in your chest before you can focus on remaining rational, the way you’d planned to. The emotions, the pain. Your very human weaknesses.
“I don’t think you two realize how hard this is for me. How hard it is that you feel the way you do about each other,” you begin. “Neither of you can know what it’s like to wake up and feel like you’re being torn in half. But that’s every day for me.”
Jungkook tries to say your name, but falls quiet again when you shake your head.
“It doesn’t feel fair. Any of this. It’s not fair that you’re both…” you pause, searching for the word. “…superhuman, something I may never understand. It’s not fair that I love you both, in such different but equally strong ways, so much sometimes that it feels like my heart might give out. And it’s not fair that you hate each other. That you can’t even be in the same room.”
Taehyung’s icy touch on your skin makes you shiver, and you realize he’s wiping away errant tears that have started to roll down your face.
“And it’s not fair,” you continue, “that you expect me to choose. That there’s supposed to be an answer here. I’ve nearly lost each of you trying to figure it out. So my choice is that I won’t choose. I don’t want either of you if I can’t have both of you.”
“What?!” Taehyung’s eyes flash when he pulls back, as quickly as if you’d just slapped him.
“Listen to me,” you command, your voice laced with determination now. “Taehyung. I love you. You are my soulmate. My person. I want to spend the rest of our lives with you.” You sniff a little, taking a big breath in, and your chest shakes as you let it out again. “But all of that is also true of Jungkook. And I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”
Taehyung blinks, dazed, like he can't believe what you’re saying. When you glance down at Jungkook, still knelt on the floor, a smile is ghosting over his mouth.
“That leech really didn’t understand our bond, huh?” Jungkook asks softly, as if only you can hear the question. “Didn’t understand that I was the one who was there for you, who picked up the pieces when he fucked off to Paris to—”
“Jungkook,” you cut him off, your tone a warning. “Stop. This goes both ways. I love you, but you also need to understand that my feelings for Taehyung are just as strong. That’s not changing even though we’ve hurt each other. We’ve all hurt each other.”
Jungkook falls silent again, and you turn your gaze back to Taehyung. Your heart aches at the unmistakable betrayal you see in his eyes.
“Taehyung,” you breathe. “Please. I can’t be without you. Without either of you. I’m just asking you to try. For me.”
“Well, I don’t need to mull it over.” Before you have a chance to react to his words, Jungkook surges up and kisses you hard on the mouth, and you make a soft noise of surprise against his lips.
You know you should pull away and tell him to stop, but Jungkook’s touch is warm enough to melt, and you lose your focus as your whole world is knocked entirely off-axis. Your head spins when his tongue traces over your bottom lip, and it’s suddenly hard to think about anything else.
Taehyung growls, low in his throat, like the distant rumble of thunder. It’s enough to drag you back, and you break the kiss with a gasp.
As if he can read the expression on your face, Jungkook wordlessly drops down onto the bed on the other side of you. You slide a hand over the firm muscles of his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze before turning to face your boyfriend.
Taehyung’s gaze traces over the floorboards, and it’s clear a thousand thoughts are running through his mind, thoughts you wish you could hear for yourself.
“Please hear me, Tae,” you try again, your voice low. “I want you. All of you. Intimately. I know you want that too.” The subject makes his gaze snap up, and you reach for him, a desperate attempt to try and keep him with you.
When you grab Taehyung’s hand, his ice-cold skin is a shock compared to the heat of Jungkook’s body under your other palm. But it’s familiar, it’s comforting, the touch of this man, whom you love so intensely that it terrifies you.
“And I know you’ve been scared to try. Scared of yourself and what might happen,” you continue, and Taehyung nods slowly, his eyes searching yours. “But… maybe this is it. Doesn’t it make sense? If Jungkook is here, it might be easier for you to stay in control with me.”
“And I can protect her if you don’t,” Jungkook adds with a smirk.
“So please, Taehyung.”
He stares at you, and you stare back, waiting for his answer. It finally comes in his husky voice, spoken as reverently as a prayer.
“I would do anything for you.”
The admission is chased by his hand at the back of your neck, pulling you in for a fierce kiss. You’re so relieved that you feel yourself near the verge of tears again, despite the icy thrill that dots up your spine as his mouth moves against yours. Taehyung’s teeth just barely scrape over your bottom lip, and you can’t help whimpering into his mouth in response. Like he’s trying to keep up, you almost instantly feel the heat of Jungkook’s mouth against your skin, his lips and tongue trailing down your neck and along the stretch of your shoulder. You make another soft noise at the way his hands start to roam over your body, restless, searching.
“Take my clothes off,” you pull away from Taehyung’s mouth to command, your eyes flitting up to his. “Let me give myself to you.” You turn to Jungkook. “To both of you.”
In a flash, Jungkook has your shirt over your head, and then it’s his turn to find your lips again, and he’s somehow even more passionate than when he first kissed you tonight.
“So fucking perfect,” Jungkook growls between kisses, and the rasp in his voice makes your nipples tighten under the thin fabric of your bralette. “Wanted this for so long.”
While Jungkook licks into your mouth, Taehyung’s nimble fingers find their way to the button of your jeans, and you lean back on your hands to give him better access. His touch is delicate as he undoes your zipper and starts to shimmy the denim down your legs.
“You too,” you break away from Jungkook to murmur, and you reach down to finish pulling your pants off. “I want to see you both.”
As they each move back from you to stand and disrobe, there’s a tense moment where Taehyung and Jungkook regard each other, and then Jungkook lunges and you scream.
You squeeze your eyes shut at a terrifying sound of something being ripped apart. Panic rises in your chest and makes it impossible to breathe�� you don’t know why this was a good idea, you don’t know what you expected, of course this could never work, how stupid could you be— and then you hear Taehyung huff a dark laugh, seemingly unharmed, and your eyes snap open.
And he is. He’s fine. His shirt, however, has been reduced to tatters on your bedroom floor. Jungkook’s smirk is that of a cat who’s just swallowed a canary.
“Very mature of you, mongrel. I take it I’m meant to repay the favor?” Taehyung scoffs, and you keep your eyes open to watch him easily tear Jungkook’s shirt from his body, as if it were made of tissue paper. Your head spins.
Attempting to remember how to breathe is made all the more difficult when you watch them both strip down to their boxers. Your heart flutters in your chest as you realize in this moment how truly beautiful they both are.
Jungkook’s body in particular takes you aback– despite still having the enviably small waist you’ve always teased him for, the rest of him has certainly filled out over the years. He’s broad-shouldered and thick, with firm definition in his arms and abdominals that ripple as he reaches down to shimmy out of his pants.
It’s hard to believe this is the same kid you spent your childhood summers with, sharing secrets and making up stories, the one you used to call ‘Boba Ball’ or ‘Triangle Kimbap’ during the years he refused to cut his hair.
In stark contrast, Taehyung’s body feels like coming home. He’s striking as he always is, all long, lean muscles, a hand-carved statue come to life. Though it’s well into the dead of night now, you swear you can still see the glimmer shifting under his skin, like he’s stepping into full sunlight as he moves toward you. He’s just as brilliant, just as blinding, even in the dim light of your bedroom. Perfection incarnate.
You know it for a fact, can feel it thrumming behind your ribs, as true as the steady beat of your human heart. You love them both, unconditionally and irrevocably.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung breathes as he stands over you where you sit at the edge of the bed. “You’re glowing.” His hand cups your cheek, and you turn your head to press a kiss to the freezing center of his palm.
“I’m so happy, Tae,” you whisper, and he’s smiling softly when you glance back up.
“That’s all I want.”
You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and then Jungkook steps in beside him, and it’s like every piece in your heart slots perfectly into place.
“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks. Their superhuman reflexes move so quickly, you feel like you’ve only just begun to nod when two sets of hands are already on you, dragging you up to the head of the bed like you’re light as a feather.
Together, they push you down into the mattress, and then two mouths start to trace over every inch of your skin they can find. They alternate fluidly, everywhere at once: the brush of full lips, the sharp-sweet bite of teeth, the wet wash of a tongue. Your eyes roll back at the overwhelming sensations, and though you can initially tell them apart by the sharp contrast in their skin temperature, it all eventually melds together in your mind until you’re not sure where Taehyung ends and Jungkook begins.
The four hands on your body make quick work of stripping you out of your bralette and panties, and you’re whimpering and writhing and drenched with arousal when a warm tongue circles your nipple while a cold hand starts to creep up towards your center.
Jungkook sucks firmly on the stiff bud in his mouth, and you keen. “Fuck, Koo, oh god.”
Not to be outdone, you feel Taehyung’s teeth very lightly graze over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your hips shudder as you groan again.
There’s a wet pop as Jungkook releases your breast from his mouth with a soft laugh. “She squirms.”
“She does.” Taehyung’s breath ghosts over your entrance as he answers. He presses a glossy kiss to the crease of your thigh, then slips two smooth, delicate fingers into the wet heat of your pussy, and you outright moan.
“She’s vocal,” Jungkook remarks.
Taehyung crooks his fingers to make you cry out again, and he falls into a steady stroking motion. “She is.”
“You’ve done this before?”
Your breath coming in shallow pants now, you manage to lift yourself up onto your forearms and interject. “We’ve never– not all the way.”
Taehyung smirks at Jungkook as his digits squelch inside of you. “We’ve done enough.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop to your face, and you meet his gaze. He cups one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it in his palm before taking the peak of your nipple between his fingers. You whine as he gently rolls the bud in a circle. “What have you done?” he asks, his voice softer this time.
“What do you think, jagi?” Taehyung answers confidently before you can respond, your pussy still gripping tight around his fingers. “Want to show wolfboy here how well you suck my cock?”
Heat flushes your face at the thought, and Jungkook practically snarls down the bed at Taehyung. “Or maybe you can show me how you eat her out, and then I’ll show you how it’s really done.”
Taehyung’s expression falters just the slightest amount, but it’s enough for Jungkook’s keen senses to notice. “Wait– you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
You shake your head, struggling to keep up, your mind fighting not to give into the euphoria of their hands continuing to work your body. “We haven’t. Tae’s not–”
“What, not a man?” Jungkook snaps, paired with a tug of your nipple. “I could’ve told you that.”
The sigh that escapes your mouth is edged with a moan as Taehyung’s thumb brushes lightly over your clit. “He’s not ready, Jungkook.”
“I’m sorry, he doesn’t want to eat you out because he’s too scared he’ll fucking eat you?”
Taehyung scoffs between your legs, but Jungkook is already shifting to his knees, clearly having heard enough. “That’s it. Turn the fuck over.”
You appreciate the consideration when Jungkook guides you to sit up and get on hands and knees across the width of the bed, nudging you forward so that he can kneel down behind you on the mattress. The positioning is ideal for Taehyung to meet you on the other side.
There’s a cold flash in Taehyung’s eyes as he circles the bed, not unlike a predator stalking prey. Watching him sends more arousal flooding through you, enough that the crux of your thighs is painted with slick when Jungkook encourages them apart from behind.
You can see Taehyung’s length straining against the confines of his underwear as he stands in front of you, and he laughs softly when you reach up to pull him out, too greedy to wait. He’s beautiful, long and hard and weighing heavy in your palm. Your eyes roll up to meet Taehyung’s, deep amber and brimming with lust as you press gentle kisses to the rim of his cockhead.
The wet smack of your mouth is chased with a fluttering whimper when Jungkook slides two fingers through your dripping folds to roughly part your pussy lips. You can feel yourself dripping, can hear the dark hum Jungkook emits in response.
“You look delicious,” he rasps. “Can’t believe this parasite would rather have your blood.”
In hopes it will distract him from Jungkook’s insult, you choose that moment to swallow Taehyung down, and your plan seems to work. Taehyung’s fingers snake through your hair and his head tips back as you stretch your lips over his shaft. You find yourself whining softly around him at the feeling alone, the smooth press of his cock against your tongue.
You hollow your cheeks around Taehyung and slowly begin to suck along his length, eliciting a deep hiss from him, your hand pumping in time at the base where your mouth can’t reach.
It takes a conscious effort to hold in a moan when you feel the first touch of Jungkook’s tongue, dragged thick up your slit like a hot knife through butter. You arch your spine, your body begging for more, and his hands grip the soft flesh of your ass as he spreads you open and indulges.
Jungkook eats you like a man starved, shoving his tongue into your pussy with enough force to slide Taehyung’s cock further into your mouth. Taehyung’s tip teases into the back of your throat, and he groans when you swallow to urge him over the edge.
“Fuck, jagiya,” he pants as you continue to bob up and down, relentless, spurred on by every sloppy pass of Jungkook’s tongue. “If only that mutt could see how good you look with my cock in your mouth.”
Pleased at Taehyung’s praise and choosing to ignore his dig at Jungkook, you lean forward to take even more of him, until the whole of his glass-hard cock is crammed down your throat. You can feel drool welling up on your tongue, can feel your muscles trying not to choke around him, made all the more difficult by the way Jungkook is steadily fucking his tongue into you now.
The shudder of your throat matches the tremble in Taehyung’s hips, and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to push you past the limits of what a human can take.
There’s a part of you that wishes he would.
You gag softly as you pull off of him, giving both of you a moment to collect yourselves. One of Taehyung’s large hands pets over your hair, encouraging, and you drop your forehead down to rest in the crook of your elbow. Without the distraction of sucking Taehyung’s cock, the pleasure of Jungkook’s hot mouth on your pussy is overwhelming, and you can’t help moaning into the mattress.
“God, just like that, Koo.”
Managing to pull yourself back up for more, you coax a soft groan from Taehyung as you start to kitten lick up his shaft. Jungkook pulls away from your center just as you take Taehyung into your mouth again.
“You taste so fucking good. Bloodsucker doesn’t know what he’s missing. But he can enjoy my sloppy seconds.”
The sudden wet sound of Jungkook spitting is so loud that even Taehyung flinches, and your cunt clenches at the slick-splatter feeling. Wasting no time, Jungkook dives back in, eagerly shoving the mix of saliva and arousal into your entrance with his tongue, and it’s all you can do to focus on the cock in your mouth.
Taking Taehyung faster this time, you build up to a steady rhythm, your hands fisting the bed sheets beneath you as you swallow him down. You make an audible gulping sound with each pass, his length dipping over and over into the tight squeeze of your throat. Taehyung can’t hold back, grunting a steady stream of curses as you suck him off just the way he likes.
When Jungkook outright growls between your legs, you feel it more than hear it, and the vibrations that roll through you are enough to make your toes curl. You pull most of the way off, sliding your lips down Taehyung’s shaft to suckle at the head of his cock as you whimper gently around him.
With his fingertips gripping your ass bruising-hard, Jungkook’s lips slide up your folds until he finds the underside of your clit. Your thighs quiver violently when his tongue darts out for one rough flick over the sensitive bud. There’s no stifling the way you moan when Jungkook repeats the action, again and again, falling into a steady lapping rhythm that makes your whole body shake.
His mouth is so wet and so warm that you completely lose your ability to multitask. Your jaw goes slack around Taehyung’s length, drool spilling onto the sheets beneath you until Taehyung finally withdraws. You don’t have enough space in your brain to try and stroke his ego to keep things fair— you’re entirely lost in the heat of Jungkook’s tongue over your clit. Your hips shove back toward Jungkook’s face to grind against his mouth, your own tongue lolling out as you pant and moan.
An ice cold hand tangling in your hair is enough to get your eyes to refocus, and you glance up at Taehyung just in time for his grip to tighten. The sting of it sparkles like diamonds against your scalp as he forces your head back and watches you fuck yourself on Jungkook’s tongue.
“Feels good, jagiya?” Taehyung purrs, speaking up to be heard over the gasps and slurps of Jungkook as his mouth works your pussy, drinking up every drop.
You can’t think or speak, can’t do anything except nod dumbly and try to keep your eyes from rolling up into your skull. Taehyung cranes your head back another inch and you whimper at the pressure. “Gonna come on puppy’s tongue?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to choke out, and you outright keen when two of Taehyung’s slender fingers reach down to find one of your nipples and twist. The shock of pleasure-pain rips through your whole body, and fuck, it’s enough. Taehyung drops his grip on your hair just as your orgasm hits, and your head bounces against the mattress as you collapse into shuddering moans, your body trembling all over.
Your thighs threaten to give out, but Jungkook’s hands find purchase under your hips to keep you up. You let him hold your weight entirely like it’s nothing at all, his face and tongue still buried in you as your pussy gushes and flutters around him.
Everything eventually softens into the warm glow of comedown, your moans dissolving to gentle whimpers, and then Jungkook slowly lowers you to the mattress. His hands slip down to keep your thighs pulled apart, and he leans in for a few more licks to your cunt, your whole body shivering with oversensitivity at each pass until he finally relents.
“First orgasm’s mine,” Jungkook remarks, like it’s casual.
You glance up to see Taehyung baring his teeth, and you roll onto your side despite how heavy your limbs still feel. “I’ll make her come harder. Let me taste you next, jagi.”
“Tae, wait,” you murmur, pushing yourself up onto your hands. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Jungkook’s smug response comes first. “How about you do it while I fuck her?”
“What?!”
If your heart wasn’t still racing from the orgasm, it would be now at the way Taehyung’s eyes are fixed on Jungkook, like he wants to tear him limb from limb. But Jungkook just keeps talking, as if it doesn’t scare him in the slightest.
“She’s got two holes, right? If I take her in the ass, her pussy’s yours. It’s like she said— if you can’t stand me, maybe it’ll tone down the desire to, you know. Have a snack.”
There’s a visible tremor in Taehyung’s jaw as he attempts to keep himself under control. When he speaks, his voice is strained with the effort of holding back. “You’re not putting anything… anywhere until after I do. I don’t care which fucking hole it is.”
At this, you finally interject. “Taehyung’s right, Jungkook.”
The staring contest ends as they both look down at you, and your eyes jump back and forth between them as you shift onto your knees on the mattress. “We’ve wanted this and talked about it for so long. It’s only fair that he be my… first.”
Jungkook, to your surprise, seems unbothered. “That’s fine. So long as I’m your second.”
“Lay the fuck down, jagi,” Taehyung growls.
You follow the command and Taehyung settles between your thighs with a determined cold-steel gaze, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress. He fists at his throbbing-hard cock as you spread yourself for him, and when he lines himself up with your entrance, you hook your legs over his hips.
In the dim light, there’s an ice-shimmer sheen on his cock, still glossed with your drool. The tip nudges at your center, and you’re drenched for him, you can feel it, slick from Jungkook’s mouth and wet with your own arousal that drips down to coat his waiting length.
A shiver runs through you at the touch of Taehyung’s hand over yours, and he turns your palm up so he can interlace your fingers together.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs. “I love you.”
His free hand slips down to anchor over your hip, and then you feel him, the glass-cold weight of his cock starting to press into you, long and impossibly hard.
“Oh god, Taehyung,” you gasp, your head kicking back against the bed. “I love you, too. So much.”
You have to shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, on adjusting to the stretch of him, your brow furrowing as you try to breathe through it.
The warm brush of a callused hand over your cheek instantly softens your expression, and your eyes flutter open again to take in Jungkook above you. His warm familiarity makes you smile, as does the sweet expression on his face as he hovers over you.
“Hi,” Jungkook says simply, and you tip your chin up enough for him to understand what you want. He leans forward and his mouth captures yours in an upside-down kiss, one that you can’t help but gasp into when Taehyung fully bottoms out inside you.
Jungkook pulls back as your breath flutters into his mouth. “Is it okay? He’s not hurting you?”
You shake your head, eyes dropping closed as Jungkook trails kisses along the line of your jaw and down your neck. “God, you took him so well.” His voice smolders against your skin.
As if attempting to regain your focus, you feel Taehyung’s hand slip between your legs. His thumb begins to trace gentle circles over your clit, and your walls clench around him in response. “Oh fuck, Tae.”
“Can I move, jagi?” he grunts, and you nod, punctuated with a soft whimper.
“Please, Tae. I need to feel you.”
You barely get the words out before Jungkook’s mouth finds yours again, and your tongue licks hungrily against his as Taehyung slowly starts to move. His cock is so thick, heavy and smooth like marble as he glides over your ridges, and you moan eagerly against Jungkook, gripping the back of his neck like a lifeline as Taehyung’s hips fall into a steady rhythm.
“Oh my god,” you have to break away from Jungkook to gasp. “Oh my god, Tae.”
“Bet that tight little pussy feels so good,” Jungkook murmurs, lips brushing over your ear. When he pulls back, you open your eyes to take him in.
“Jungkook,” you nearly whine his name, overwhelmed at the way Taehyung has started to jostle you on his cock. “Wanna make you feel good too.”
The pads of his fingertips trace delicately over your cheek, and then his thumb slips down to pull at your bottom lip.
“Do you wanna take my cock in this pretty mouth?” The hand tracing over your lip slips lower, until his warm palm is closed over the column of your neck. You can feel the heat of him in every beat of your pulse, the hummingbird thrum of your very human heart. “And let me fuck your throat?”
An overwhelming desire to be filled from both ends makes your breath stutter in your chest, and you grip his forearm with both of your hands, nails digging into his warm skin. “Y-yes, Jungkook,” you answer, working hard to get the words out with how heavy Taehyung is stroking into you. “I need it.”
Jungkook dips forward to brush his lips over yours again, just the lightest touch. “I love you,” he murmurs softly against your mouth.
“I love you,” you repeat, your voice a near whisper.
Another kiss, and he’s smiling when he pulls back. “Be a good girl and open up for me.”
As Jungkook steps away to tug down and step out of his boxers, you feel Taehyung slow his thrusts, and then you gasp a little at how deep his cock sinks into you when he shifts forward to push you both up the bed.
“You feel so good, jagi,” Taehyung groans, and you can’t help but whimper when he moves you easily, grabbing your legs and slinging them roughly over his shoulders.
A yelp escapes your lips when Taehyung hooks his arms over your thighs and pulls them flush to his chest, causing your ass to lift off the mattress entirely. With the way he has you bent, the majority of your weight should be resting in your arms and upper back pressed flat to the bed, possibly painfully. But Taehyung holds you up so effortlessly that you feel like you weigh nothing at all.
The angle also shoves you just far enough back that your head tips over the edge of the bed, and you’re grateful for this small concession from Taehyung, to let Jungkook have his way peacefully, because he knows it’s what you want, too.
As Jungkook steps in to hover over you, Taehyung starts to bounce you on his cock again, and he fills you up so perfectly like this that you can only moan, your head tilting all the way back.
Jungkook’s hands pet down the length of your neck until he finds your breasts, angled up toward him and jiggling with every fierce thrust as Taehyung picks up the pace. You whimper when Jungkook’s palms close around your tits, and you feel the head of his dick toy at your bottom lip, gliding wet with precum that has already started to leak from his slit.
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you give yourself over to the pleasure welling up inside of you and stick your tongue out to guide Jungkook in. His groan is nearly a growl as his cock presses into your mouth to weigh your tongue down heavy, then slips even further back until he’s teasing at the clench of your throat.
The stretch of being used by both of them lights you up all the way through, like a live wire.
For a moment, you find yourself wishing that you weren’t human, that they didn’t have to worry about being gentle to keep you from getting hurt, that Jungkook and Taehyung could truly do whatever they wanted to you.
The thought is exciting and terrifying, and your heart skips a beat in your chest.
Jungkook holds himself still once he’s pushed all the way in, and your throat bulges up at the width of him. You have to remind yourself that at least for now, you are human, and you need to keep breathing.
Taehyung is thrusting balls-deep into your pussy now, and though Jungkook hasn’t started his own strokes yet, the way Taehyung shoves into you is enough to gently rock Jungkook’s length back and forth in the heat-clutch of your throat.
You hear Jungkook moan above you. “Oh fuck yeah, just like that.”
His hips just barely start to move in time, out to match each of Taehyung’s thrusts in, back into your throat every time Taehyung’s cock drags out of your cunt. All you can do is lay there and take it from both of them, a fragile fucktoy, drool slipping down your chin while Jungkook’s hands knead at your breasts and Taehyung’s thumb rolls over your clit.
“Look so good like this,” Taehyung grunts as he presses his lips to your calf hooked over his shoulder. “Wanna make you come on my cock, jagi.”
The plea makes you moan enough to gag around Jungkook, and he relents to let you catch your breath, strings of spit spider-webbing out of your mouth as you pant and laugh a little.
“Fuck me harder, Taehyung,” you breathe. “I can take it.”
It feels like you might bruise from the intensity at which Taehyung begins to stroke into you at your command, but it’s so good, you can’t imagine ever caring about the marks he’ll leave behind. The slap of skin on skin is loud, the way you moan louder still. The pleasure of it rushes up in your bloodstream and hits hard enough to make you dizzy, and the relentless rub of Taehyung’s thumb over your clit pushes you to the edge overwhelmingly quickly.
“Jungkook,” you gasp, your head tipping back towards him. “Please. Want you in my mouth when I come.”
“God,” Jungkook groans, nearly laughing as he slips his thick cock between your lips again. “You are so fucking hot.”
You take Jungkook back into your mouth, and you can already feel your walls starting to flutter around Taehyung as his cock plunges into you over and over. Jungkook’s heavy breathing and Taehyung’s strangled moans mix together in a discordant harmony, underscored by the wet sounds of your throat and your pussy as they fuck you from both ends. Your orgasm mounts, coiling tight in your core, undeniable now.
“That’s it, jagiya,” Taehyung groans. “Come for us.”
You nearly sob around Jungkook’s shaft as you reach your peak, your hips shoving up wildly in Taehyung’s grasp, your entire body overwhelmed by pleasure. Wave after wave of it washes through you, and your pussy pulses for what feels like an eternity, soaking Taehyung’s length in your juices.
Jungkook pulls out again to let you breathe, and you collapse back against the bed. The rush of air into your lungs is so sharp that it stings a little. Your heartbeat slams in your chest as Taehyung withdraws too, and then he leans down to cover your body with his.
His perfect lips find yours and he kisses you deeply, and it takes all the effort you have left to move your mouth against his.
“You’re beautiful, jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs against your skin. “You feel like heaven.”
“I love you, Taehyung,” you manage to whisper back.
“Aw,” Jungkook’s voice drips thick with sarcasm, and you’re ashamed to realize that you’d momentarily forgotten his presence. “What a lovely couple. Guess that orgasm makes the score one-to-one, huh Tae-Tae?”
You shiver a little at the loss of Taehyung’s body over yours as he gets to his feet, inhumanly fast, to move towards Jungkook.
“You know, I have no idea what she sees in you,” Taehyung scoffs.
Jungkook barks a laugh. “That’s fine. ‘Cause pretty soon you’ll be seeing me in her.”
Your heart is in your throat as you watch the two of them circle each other, their eyes burning with hatred. A low warning sound reverberates from between Taehyung’s teeth, but Jungkook just keeps going. “What do you think, bloodsucker? Ready to try eating pussy now that you’re not a virgin anymore?”
“I’d much prefer dog for my next meal, if I’m honest,” Taehyung spits.
“I’d love to see you try.”
“Please.” Your voice comes out shattered, and you kneel up on the bed, grabbing both of them by the bicep in a feeble human attempt to pull them apart. You know you don’t have the real strength to move either of them, but they clearly choose to relent, each taking a few reluctant steps back.
“I want both of you,” you exclaim, close to tears. “Please, please don’t fight.”
There’s a tense moment of silence, and you break it the only way you can think to. “Jungkook,” you shift to better face him. “You really meant what you said? About taking me… in the ass?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen as he fumbles for his words. “I-I mean, we don’t have to. I was just saying shit to make him mad, really.”
“But do you want to?” you press him.
Jungkook blinks. “I want to do anything with you,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and your heart melts open.
“I want it, too.”
“I– really?”
You nod, unashamed. “I’ve tried it before, by myself. And I want that with you.”
“How many fingers?” Jungkook’s eyes go dark with lust when he asks the question.
“Two,” you breathe.
His mouth pulls into a dirty smile. “Might have to work you up to three if you want to take me.”
“Taehyung?” You turn towards him when you ask for his consent to continue, and he answers by leaning in for a kiss that steals all the air from your lungs.
Your kisses deepen and intensify until they’re a clash of tongues and teeth as Taehyung joins you to kneel on the bed. Jungkook disappears off to dig through your bathroom cabinets, and there’s a smug look on his face when he returns with a bottle of lube in hand.
Hands still clutching at Taehyung’s neck, you break the kiss momentarily to look over your shoulder as Jungkook settles behind you, and you spread your knees wide for him. The snap of the bottle cap is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, and it’s chased by the thick squelch of Jungkook depositing lube onto his waiting fingers.
“This shit’s cold,” he complains, and you laugh softly against Taehyung’s mouth.
“Everything feels cold to you.”
You reach back with one hand to better spread yourself for him, and then you whimper as you feel Jungkook’s warm, wet fingers start to trace over the rim of your hole.
It feels like you can barely catch your breath before Taehyung’s mouth is on yours again, kissing you hungrily. His teeth roll over your bottom lip, and you moan into his mouth as Jungkook simultaneously pushes a finger into your ass.
Hot pleasure overwhelms you as Jungkook slips all the way in, and Taehyung’s marble lips release yours to trail an icy path over your jaw.
“Fuck, Koo,” you groan as you adjust to the stretch of him, already so much better than your own touch. “I need another.”
“God,” Jungkook exhales in disbelief. “I’ll try. You’re so fuckin’ tight back here.” Attempting to work you open, he starts to rock his finger slowly in and out of you, and you whine again.
The glass-cold touch of Taehyung’s hand brushing over your hip makes you jump a little, and then he traces further down to roll his fingers over your clit, and your spine arches. The soft circles he begins to trace melt you open, and you can feel every muscle in your body slacken, including the tight ring swallowing up Jungkook’s finger.
It’s just enough that he’s able to squeeze a second in.
“Look at that,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “The leech is helping.”
You wrap a hand firmly around Taehyung’s cock, jutting up proudly between his legs, if only for a tether to ground you, to keep you from slipping out of your body entirely. Taehyung’s groan shudders over your skin as you slowly start to pump his diamond-hard length.
Jungkook doesn’t let up, scissoring his digits inside of you, and you press your hips back to beg for more until he’s shoved in to the hilt.
Taehyung’s deep voice purrs in your ear. “You smell incredible, jagiya.” There’s a sheen to his ochre eyes when you glance up at him. You’re not scared, not really, but your pulse quickens in your throat nevertheless. You know he can hear it, too.
“Tae,” you breathe, unable to get more words out, not with the way Jungkook’s fingers are relentlessly fucking your ass open.
Taehyung ducks his head and you gasp at the cold shock of his tongue when he full-on licks up the side of your neck. He keeps going, tonguing you in thick, slow drags, starting to groan softly in the back of his throat with each one. You let your head tip back to allow him access to more of your skin as you continue to work his cock in your hand.
You know you’re dancing with the devil, especially when you feel the lightest scrape of his teeth over your neck, but it feels too good to stop.
There’s a slow burn stretch at your rim as Jungkook just barely manages to fit a third finger past it. You will your body to relax so you can take him all the way inside, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming fullness. “Oh my fucking god, Koo.”
“Look so pretty on my fingers like this,” Jungkook grunts, pairing his words with a harsh slap to your asscheek that makes you yelp. “Can’t wait to see what you look like on my cock.”
Like a reflex, Taehyung growls against your neck, and you tremble at the feeling, at the sound of his teeth grinding together so close to your throbbing pulse.
“Taehyung,” you choke out as you release your grip on his cock and Jungkook’s fingers withdraw from your ass. You take Taehyung’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Do you want to taste me?” His eyes flash dark with lust as he nods.
Jungkook is already shifting to sit at the edge of the bed, and he reaches for the lube again to pour more out, hissing softly as he fists the sticky gloss over his thick shaft. His legs part to give you room, and you back your ass up towards him. You can’t help but squeak a little when his hands close over your hips and he picks you up, your feet hovering an inch above the floor.
“Spread your legs,” Jungkook instructs, and you do. “Pull your knees up and rest your feet on my thighs.” You nervously find your footing over his firm muscles, but you’re a little scared to bear your full weight down.
Jungkook laughs when he realizes why you’re hesitating. “You can’t hurt me, it’s okay.”
At his encouragement, you press your feet more firmly into Jungkook’s thighs, your own legs shaking slightly with tense anticipation. He keeps his hands gripped tight to your hips, heat radiating out from where his palms press against your skin, and his voice is thick with lust when he speaks again.
“That’s it, baby. Line it up for me.”
You reach behind you to wrap your hand around his cock, and you can feel it pulsing hotly as you arch back to let his tip kiss against your rim.
“Go slow,” you breathe, and Jungkook leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder.
“‘Course I will. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Inch by inch, he gently starts to sink you down to sheath him, pausing periodically to give you time to adjust. Your mouth drops open at the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s thickness stretching you open. It’s so intense that you want to squirm, to run away, the soles of your feet flexing restlessly against his thighs.
Your eyes flutter open again to find Taehyung knelt down, watching the two of you intently with a soft furrow in his brow.
“Tae,” you murmur. “Need your mouth.”
That’s all you have to say, and then he’s crawling towards you, settling on his knees between Jungkook’s spread legs. You shiver at the touch of Taehyung’s fingers as he pulls the lips of your pussy apart, and then he leans in to swipe his tongue through your folds just as Jungkook drops you an inch lower on his cock, and you whine loudly at the sweet rush of pleasure.
“Just like that,” you gasp to both of them, your head lolling back against Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, fuck.”
Taehyung’s tongue traces down to your entrance, slurping greedily at the wetness pooled there before dragging back up to your clit. The mirror-cold slide of his wet mouth over you is incredible, enough to make your toes curl when paired with the pressure of Jungkook’s hot cock pushing into your ass.
You feel the tight muscle of your rim spasm, and you sink another inch down, causing Jungkook to groan harshly in response. Just as you realize that you can feel his thighs flush against your asscheeks, his voice is in your ear.
“That’s it, baby. Took all of me in this tight little ass.”
“You feel so good, Koo,” you whimper, turning over your shoulder to find his mouth with yours. “So big,” you groan against his lips, and he smiles back.
As if to distract you, Taehyung’s teeth just barely brush over the hood of your clit, and you nearly bite Jungkook’s bottom lip off. You pull back to look down at Taehyung, and he smiles shyly between your thighs, feigning innocence.
“Watch it, bloodsucker,” Jungkook mutters, his voice strained. “Guess you need more practice.”
“No,” you manage to gasp, struggling to catch your breath between the two of them. “I liked it. Please, Tae.”
Taehyung leans in to repeat the motion, and the scrape of his teeth sends a hot spark of pain through you, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and every muscle in your body pull taut. You can hear Jungkook groan behind you as your ass clenches around his cock like a vice.
“Shit,” Jungkook’s voice over your shoulder startles you slightly. Your lashes flutter open in time to see him reach his foot out and nudge at Taehyung’s thigh, not particularly gentle. “Keep fucking doing that.”
Taehyung obliges, alternating gentle passes of his tongue with increasingly rough drags of his teeth across your sensitive bud. The steady swings between pleasure and pain make your head spin, until Taehyung’s husky voice drags you back from the brink of all-encompassing pleasure.
“You’re dripping, jagiya.”
You whimper, unable to form words to respond, and then you can only moan as you feel one of Taehyung’s delicate fingers work itself into the heat of your pussy with a wet squelch.
“Pup’s so big and you’re so little,” Taehyung continues. “There’s no room left. Can barely get a finger in here.”
“I want to take you too, Tae,” you plead. “I want both of you.” It’s not just want at this point– you’re more sure than ever that you have to have this, both of them, together. “Please.”
Taehyung’s face darkens with concern. “We’ll break you.”
“Then break me,” you practically growl. “I need it.”
You’re expecting Taehyung to argue back, forever concerned for your safety, but to your surprise, he surges up to kiss you instead. A soft whimper spills from your mouth into his, and you tangle your fingers in his long dark hair and taste him until he pulls away.
As if to beckon him in, you wordlessly tilt your hips toward Taehyung as best you can with Jungkook’s thick cock still fully sheathed in your ass. Taehyung’s hands sink into the mattress on either side of Jungkook’s hips as he positions himself in front of you.
“Breathe, jagi,” Taehyung reminds you.
Your lungs burn as you inhale deep, and you try desperately to relax as you feel the tip of his glass-hard length teasing at your drenched entrance. Taehyung slowly starts to push in, and your hands search for purchase along the lean, flexing muscles in his arms, your nails attempting to scratch over skin that won’t give.
There’s a steady throb between your legs as Taehyung gently nestles himself all the way into your cunt, his cock pressed tight to Jungkook’s with only the thin barrier of your body between them. This feeling of fullness is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, and the sensation of taking both of them at once is overwhelming. It’s spine-chilling cold and blood-boiling heat all in one, their cocks crammed so deep inside you that you swear you can feel them in your throat.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, and he can’t quite hide the waver of pleasure that paints his voice. “Your dick’s fucking cold.”
“You’re actually just a fucking furnace,” Taehyung spits back, but it’s chased with a soft groan. 
Your mind lags, dazed with pleasure, but it slowly occurs to you that the temperature combination must feel equally good for them. Even if their egos won’t let them admit it.
“Move.” No one is more shocked than you at the commanding tone of your voice when you speak. “Both of you. Stop talking and fuck me.”
Jungkook acts first, his hands tightening on your hips to lift you, and the tight clutch of your ass dragging up the length of his cock makes you both gasp. Taehyung watches closely as Jungkook falls into a steady rhythm, and then he starts to roll his hips to match it, thrusting into your pussy each time Jungkook pulls your ass back down over his cock.
None of you can keep your composure or bite back your moans now, the pressure of their cocks simultaneously fucking into you feels too good. You can hear Jungkook panting in your ear, can see a muscle flexing in Taehyung’s jaw as he groans with every upstroke, and you begin to shove your hips up in time with their motions, your feet pressing firmly against Jungkook’s thighs for leverage.
“That’s it, baby,” Jungkook grunts. “Fucking ride us.”
Taehyung shifts slightly, putting all his weight into one hand to lift the other off the mattress and toy with your clit. You keen as he rolls it between his thumb and index finger, and you feel the chill of his mouth close over the slope of your neck.
“Oh fuck, Tae,” you whine as he starts to suck hard against your skin, enough that you’re sure he’ll leave a mark. You can feel every muscle in your body tightening, a dam of arousal threatening to burst deep inside of you, and something primal awakens there.
In this moment, you know exactly what you need.
“Taehyung,” you groan softly, and you already know he wants it too. “Do it, Tae. Please. Bite me.”
“Do not fucking turn her,” Jungkook growls, slamming your ass down so hard on his thighs that you nearly choke on a gasp. Taehyung’s mouth sucks even harder, right over your pulse point.
“No, no,” you protest. “Just a little drink, Tae. Please. It felt so good last time, I know. We both want it.” You’re outright begging, insatiable– your eyes threaten tears with how badly you really do want this, need this.
Like it takes every ounce of strength he has, Taehyung manages to pull himself off your neck, his hips still pistoning into you. “Jagi, I–I’ll frenzy. I’ll hurt you.”
You shake your head. “Jungkook is here, you can stop yourself. I know you can. Please, Tae, if you love me.”
As if those words were all he needed to hear, you see Taehyung rear back, and then you scream as his teeth pierce the skin of your neck. “It’s good Taehyung, it’s good,” you choke out, trying to keep it together. Your breath comes ragged now, in harsh, broken sobs.
Taehyung is loud when he drinks from you, slurping and gasping and groaning unabashedly, and you shiver violently at the icy wash of his tongue circling over your wounds.
The world begins to blur at the edges, bleeding out, like time itself is slowing. You feel your climax winding tighter inside of you even as your body starts to go weak, held up like a ragdoll in Jungkook’s grip as they both continue to fuck you full.
Jungkook growls like a clap of thunder, and it’s enough to bring Taehyung back to his senses. His head snaps up angrily, your blood momentarily forgotten. You just barely manage to focus your gaze on Taehyung’s face to see him bare his teeth in a vicious snarl at Jungkook, more monster than man.
“What is it, pup? Want a taste?”
Your mind moves slowly, and just as you think to yourself that Jungkook will scoff at the very idea, maybe even try to fight Taehyung for suggesting it, a new sensation flutters against your neck. It’s unmistakable, the touch of Jungkook’s tongue over the same spot, hot enough to burn the delicate skin that was just made so cold by Taehyung’s mouth.
“Oh fuck,” you moan loudly.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Taehyung purrs, chased with a dark laugh, and your mind is too dizzy to know which of you he’s asking.
“She’s sweet,” Jungkook confirms, and your eyes roll back at the warmth of his tongue when it returns to your neck. Taehyung laughs even louder.
“He’s not gonna leave any for me. Can I give you one more set, jagi?”
“Please,” you gasp. “I’m so fucking close, Tae.”
Your head feels heavy on your neck now, and it takes all the strength you have to look at Taehyung when you feel the brush of his marble palm against your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs, and then there’s an animal sound as his teeth tear a fresh gash into the other side of your neck.
Two cocks filling you, two tongues drinking you, your mind at the precipice of blacking out, the sweet pleasure-pain of ice and fire twisting all the way through your body: it’s all too much. Taehyung’s second bite sends you violently over the edge, and your vision goes black as you come with a strangled scream. White noise roars in your ears like TV static, and you feel the unmistakable throb of two loads filling you up simultaneously as your cunt pulses in an endless, overwhelming orgasm.
A voice somewhere in the back of your mind asks if these might be your final moments alive, if this shaky inhale you can barely take is the last breath you’ll ever breathe, and then the world goes dark as you lose consciousness entirely.
~*~
You wake up with a deep gasp, like coming up for air.
You’ve been laid flat on your back on the bed, and you sit up so fast your head spins, making it momentarily impossible to focus on anything. You squeeze your eyes shut again, trying to steady yourself.
“Oh thank god,” Taehyung’s worried voice comes from your right side, and you feel both of his hands close over yours. “I was just about to call Seokjin. Do you still want me to?”
The thought of having to explain any of this to Taehyung’s adoptive father makes your face burn with embarrassment.
“No, no, Tae,” you manage to croak. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t call him.”
“You’re lucky,” you hear Jungkook scoff from your left. “I had about five more seconds left of you playing dead before I was going to tear vampy here to shreds. Guess there’s always next time.”
You wrench your eyes open in disbelief to find Taehyung and Jungkook staring at you, brows creased with worry.
“N-next time?”
“Do you still want that, jagiya?” Taehyung asks softly, and you have to swallow down the urge to cry. “You still want both of us?”
“More than anything,” you choke out, eyes darting between the two of them, trying to take them both in at once. “I-I’m sorry I pushed myself too hard, but please, I still need–”
“It’s okay,” Taehyung interrupts you. “We clearly all got caught up in the moment. I’m just glad you’re okay. And now we know better, for… next time.”
You still can’t believe what you’re hearing, and you turn to look at Jungkook, trying to make sense of it.
Jungkook just shrugs. “Neither of us have ever felt anything close to what we felt tonight. I mean, it was insane. And we both love you, that much is obvious. So as long as you’re still breathing, I guess we’re gonna have to learn to play nice.”
Taehyung laughs darkly as your jaw drops open. “It’s true, jagiya. I never would’ve believed it before tonight. But, despite all odds, it would seem we’ve found a way to… compromise.”
lol i'm so sorry this was the dumbest thing i've ever written bye
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strniohoeee · 7 months
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Salacious
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader 🦢
Synopsis: Y/N is sexually deprived, and Matt offers a helping hand 😉. This is for the request I got🫶🏽
Warnings⚠️: THIS IS SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SO MINORS BACK OFF.
Song for the imagine: Some Way- NAV, The Weeknd
⚠️This is a 18+ story, so minors do not interact!!⚠️
I think your girl, think your girl fell in love with me
She say my fuck, and my tongue game a remedy
To say I wasn’t yearning for some good, dirty and sweaty sex I’d be lying. I was so sexually deprived, and agitated. I was currently under the longest dry spell of my life.
I haven’t had sex in a fucking year, but before that I was always getting my rocks off with whoever. But as I got older, and craved that deeper connection I was lacking in the sex department.
I realized that in order for sex to be enjoyable I had to be compatible with my partner. Because I would just grab any hot guy when I was a little younger I didn’t care. But every guy I tried to fuck I simply couldn’t.
It was painful, boring and I faked every single time, so I just stopped. I would just masturbate instead, and it was good of course, but man I’m a fucking human and our bodies crave sex.
I was at my worst when ovulation week started. I was a fucking feral animal who should be chained to my bed. Anything with a dick just set me off. I needed them!
Currently I was ovulating, and every guy I laid eyes on I wanted to tear apart. What made it worse was I was hanging around my friends Chris, Matt and Nick. What didn’t help was that they were all extremely attractive, and my mind was just thinking SEX SEX SEX
I had been a bit crabby leading up to ovulation because I was so deprived, and everytime I masturbated it just didn’t feel that good. My orgasms were not as good as they should have been
Currently I was with the triplets, and we were walking around Target just shopping. As we were in an aisle a guy walked down the same aisle, and I swear I almost passed out.
As he walked by my eyes followed his every move just googly eyes.
“What the fuck was that?” Nick asked laughing m
“He was so fucking hot” I said to him
“Y/N….he was the most average looking man in the word, and I’m a gay man” Nick said
“No that man was so fucking hot” I said still flushed
“Control yourself! You’re like an animal” Chris said
“Sorry” I said shaking the feeling off
We got to the car, and Matt was driving, Chris in the passenger seat, and Nick and I in the back.
I was looking at Matt driving, and I swore I was drooling….why did he look so hot driving??
And then Chris asked me a question, turning around to look at me, and he smirked, flashing his teeth, and I felt my breathing get shallow??
Finally I looked over at Nick, and his hands? His hands looked so good….big and muscular and strong… HES GAY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON! I internally yelled at myself
I needed to be sedated or fucked. This was too much for me.
As we were driving home. My eyes kept darting between the three of them, and disgusting thoughts were playing in my head.
“You guys are so fine” I just blurted out
“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK CALM DOWN” Chris said looking at me
“IM SORRY, I CANT HELP IT” I said back to him
“I’m about to get a spray bottle what the fuck is wrong with you” Matt said laughing and his laugh almost made me moan???
“Sorry yall I’m ovulating” I said back to them
“The fuck is that?” Chris asked
“Right before women get their period we go through ovulation, and that causes us to become to sexually aroused we literally will fuck anything” I told him
“MY EARS” Nick said covering his ears
“ITS THE TRUTH! I’m in ovulation, and then yall are so good looking and then combine that with not having sex in a year….im about to burst” I said kind of laughing
“Literally go fuck something then” Matt said
“Mmm it’s hard” I said to him
The rest of the ride we were just laughing about everything, and Nick was scrolling through social media trying to find me potential candidates
I was spending the night at the triplets house, and I always stood with Matt, so I was chilling in his room when he finally came in to prepare for bed
“Yoo” he said as he shut his door
“Heyyy” I said putting my phone down and sitting up
He came in with a pink shirt on and grey sweats that hung low…real low, and my eyes followed his every move
“What you thinking?” He asked me
“Im thinking I need to fuck someone very soon” I said looking him up and down
“Jesus how down bad are you” he said laughing
“Matt it’s torture” I told him also laughing
“It’s just hard for me to fuck anyone now a days. It never works out” I told him as he sat down on the bed
“Want to fuck?” He asked, looking at me. That immediately sent a shiver down my spine
“Me fuck you?” I asked genuinely shocked
“I mean I’m down to fuck. No strings attached. Just fuck buddies” he said shrugging his shoulders
I mean I knew him, he was attractive and we were very compatible
“Fuck it I’m down” I said crawling over to him
Matt had bit his lip before smashing his lips into mine. Immediately starting a make out session. He had pushed us back, so that I was laying down and he was hovering over me.
He pulled away from the kiss
“I’m going to take good care of you baby” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body
“Please” I said sighing
Matt had removed his shirt, and then mine. Started to kiss me again. Going down to my neck and then to my breasts. He immediately removed my bar, grabbing one breast in his hand massaging while sucking on the other one
“Oh fuck Matt” I said moaning and running my hands through his hair. His kissing and sucking had me dripping. This feeling was what I’d been looking for all along.
Matt slid my pants down, and then removed his pants leaving us in just our underwear
He started to kiss down my stomach to my pelvic bone. He got up, and slid my underwear down. My cunt was soaked full of my arousal
“So fucking wet” he said licking his lips
“All for you. I want this so badly” I told him looking up at him
He got back down, and grabbed my thighs, spreading my legs open, and placing them over his shoulders.
He immediately attached his mouth to my clit, and I nearly flew off the bed
“MATT” I practically yelled. He started his attack on my pussy. Sucking my clit, and licking from my entrance up to my clit. Lapping at me like there was no tomorrow
“MATT MATT MATT UH UH UH UH” I said, barely able to form sentences. Pulling at his hair causing him to moan into my pussy. My heels were for sure digging into his back
This didn’t stop him though. He reached his hand up and started grabbing my boob as he ate my cunt. Licking me up and down. Causing the most disgusting sounds to come from my pussy
“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum” I said pulling his hair harder and starting to tremble
“FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK” I screamed as I came all over his face. He pulled away, and came up to me. His face covered in my cum
Smashing his lips to mine as we sloppily made out
“Matt I wanna fuck so bad right now” I said after pulling away from the kiss
“Okay baby” he said. He reached over to his night stand and pulled out a condom. Immediately slipping it on
He grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the end of the bed
“How do you want it?” He asked as he rubbed his cock up and down on my pussy
“I want it hard. I want to be fucked so hard I can’t remember anything” I told him
“Like a dirty slut” he said and I nodded my head
Slowly Matt slid into me allowing me to adjust to his size
“Okay Matt I’m ready” I said throwing my head back
Without a second thought his hips start smacking into me. Pounding me relentlessly.
“Fuckkkkk” I said rolling my eyes to the back of my head
“Fuck Y/N…you feel so fucking good” he said breathing heavy
Matt was slamming into me at such a delicious pace. I was speechless. My mouth just hung open as my eyes stood shut
Matt picked up one leg and put it over his shoulder allowing him to fuck me at a new angle
“SHITTTTTT” I said clenching my eyes shut harder
“So so good to me” he said as he pounded into me
He then pushed that same leg backwards. Holding it up as he fucked me ruthlessly
The headboard banging into the wall
“HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK” I screamed out clenching on Matt’s cock
“can I ride” I asked in between moans, and Matt nodded immediately flipping us around, so I could straddle him
I leaned over him as I started to grind down against him
“Fuckkkk Y/N” he moaned throwing his head back
I kept on riding him hard and fast. He gripped my ass, and started to suck on one of my nipples
“MATTTTTT” I moaned out loudly, throwing my head back
“Keep going baby, keep going” he said biting his lip and looking up at me
“I’m gonna cum” I said as I started to grind on him faster
“I wanna see your pretty face when you come” he said waiting for me to look down at him
“Okay yes anything for you” I told him out of breath
I shuddered, and then came as I looked into his eyes with a slack jaw. And soon after he came too moaning my name with a slack jaw.
This interaction became normal. I’d jump on him every night I stood with them. Having him fuck the shit out of me. On every piece of furniture, in every position, in the shower, against the shower sink. EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME
But slowly I started to realize that I really enjoyed our sex because I really fucking liked Matt.
This sex went on for two weeks, until finally after one night of fucking I decided to tell him how I feel.
“Matt I really fucking like you, and the sex is great, but I can’t be friends with benefits when I’m falling in love with you” I told him running my hands through his hair
“I thought I was the only one. Y/N I like you so fucking much, and I think I’ve liked you since I’ve met you” he said looking into my eyes
“Are you wanting to be more than just a FWB?” i asked him
“Yes. I would love to be your boyfriend” he said, leaning in and kissing me.
The End
I hope that you guys liked this one! And whoever requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint🥹❤️. Im almost done finishing up all these requests, but the rest will be up tomorrow💋
-J💅🏽
459 notes · View notes
general-fanfiction · 20 days
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Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)
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Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.
Word Count: 3.1k
Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!
Warnings: Death
Part One.
A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!
“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.
How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.
Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.
Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.
Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.
We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.
The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.
So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”
My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.
As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.
It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.
“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.
Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.
We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.
We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.
I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”
Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.
Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.
His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.
“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.
I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.
“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”
He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.
“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”
Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.
It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.
Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?
“Walk with me.”
Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.
“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.
“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”
Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.
“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”
He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.
“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.
“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”
The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.
“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”
For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.
“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”
My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.
“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.
“Can anybody get over their death?”
“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.
Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.
“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“
“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”
“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”
I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.
“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”
“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.
“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”
Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.
The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.
“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”
Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.
My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.
While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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154 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 11 months
Text
I See Your Beauty
Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
Genre: a little angst mixed with fluff and comfort
Summary: the youngest Verstappen is forced to do life without her vision. Thinking she might not be able fully experience her life due to the remarks of her father, she concedes that finding love is unlikely. Until she runs into Charles who helps her believe she doesn’t need her eyesight to be loved.
Warnings: Jos is his own warning now. Talks of disability and reader having an accident. Talks and depictions of verbal and physical abuse.
Request: nope this is self-indulgent. However, I am taking requests for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel.
Notes: written in third person. Also, this fic deals with disabilities, particularly blindness. I myself am blind though I still have some vision left, which is mainly what I’m basing this off of. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum like many other disabilities. It is defined really by a loss of vision that can’t be corrected. I’m open to answering questions about it if y’all have any. My inbox and asks are always open :)
Masterlist
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The youngest of the Verstappen’s very close with her brother, Max. The two are barely a year apart so it makes sense. Though they get in each others nerves often as well. Victoria doing her best as the oldest to settle arguments between the two.
Jos decided that two children in racing gives him better odd then just one. Electing to have both start karting at an early age.
They liked racing together. Getting used to being each others rocks when their father was harsher then necessary. It became routine for the two to defend each other.
Then everything changed.
The two were moving up through the ranks. Competing harder then ever to make your dad proud.
The accident wasn’t her fault. A consequence of her father from trying to build a faster car and not having test run it.
The engine exploded during the race. Every one of her senses ranged useless as she tried to react.
Ears ringing.
Smoke from the fire burning in her nose.
Blood from whatever hitting her knocking her teeth into her lip.
Heat nipping at her skin.
Lack of sight making her steering erratic.
Max had immediately rushed to aid his sister. Their father only staring in disappointment. He became resentful of his father that day.
The ambulance arrived and took you away. Max begged to go with but Jos ignored his request, telling him he needed help cleaning up his youngest daughter mess.
After hours the finally arrived back home. The other two Verstappen’s confused why the youngest was nowhere to be found. Max finally broke down in tears, much to his father dislike, and clutched Victoria for comfort. Telling her everything that had happened.
While three of them went to the hospital to find you, the fourth sat wallowing in disgrace at the display from his children today. He couldn’t admit he’d made a mistake. One that might have cost him a child.
Meanwhile the youngest was out of surgery. Continually crying for her family. The nurses had tried to reach her father who had given the medics his cell number, but they had yet to hear from him.
When her family arrived she tried her best to make out their faces. The sparks from the engine had been so bright that they burned her retinas. The combination of the fire doing permanent damage. The impact of the engine had knocked her helmet almost all the way off and she instinctively pushed it away to try and see again. The protection of the visor gone.
The three siblings cuddled together in her hospital bed. The youngest not fully comprehending why she couldn’t see. The lights were too bright. She was squinting to make out the small details.
Things didn’t improve after that. Jos became angry towards her. Constantly reminding the girl of what happened, what she did wrong, and how if she hadn’t messed up she might have been successful.
Regardless, she listened to him berate her at everyone of Max’s races. He stopped commenting about Max when she was within earshot. Mostly because she told him off every time he insulted her brother. Jos already deemed her the disappointment of the family, standing up for Max couldn’t possibly make things worse.
Max had also gotten more protective of his sister. Having been the one to pull her away from the wreckage and cleaning up the damage made him realize he didn’t want you to get hurt again.
He made it to every doctors appointment he could. He attended as much physical therapy as you would let him. He even put on a blind fold so he could understand a bit better. He helped her learn cane skills and how to guide you himself. All in an effort to help his sister feel less alone.
He was aware she still had some eyesight lift. Mostly cloudy and bright patches dotted her eyes making it difficult to make out where things are and any specific details. She liked seeing what she could of her siblings faces though.
Max determined he was going to bring you to every race with him. The Verstappen losing all ability to drive now making things harder for her and she didn’t want to stay with her father.
Victoria had a room for her in her house and let her stay when she needed. Max always made sure there was a room for her if she wanted to travel with him. She loved how willing her sibling were to help her out. However, it left her feeling useless and vulnerable at times.
Eventually, Max helped get her a job with Redbull as a strategist. She enjoyed playing with the different data. Listening became a more essential job then seeing.
Race days were spent in the garage unnoticed in the back. Hopefully out of view of the cameras and away from her father. They saw each other often, much to her dismay. He always had something to say to her when Max wasn’t around.
It was during her downtime that she met Charles.
~
Deciding her cane was unnecessary since she knew her way around the paddock and the ground is relatively flat, she went to hunt down her brother.
Neither party was paying attention leading to them running straight into each other. She could vaguely make out the Ferrari red race suit standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Came the voice of Charles Leclerc. Though the two had never formally met, she had heard during interviews enough to know his voice.
“It’s alright, neither was I.” She smiled at the Monegasque. “Have you seen Max anywhere?”
He chuckles. “Unfortunately no. Are you his girlfriend?”
The question makes her laugh hysterically. “I’m his sister.” She can hear him sigh in relief at the clarification.
“That’s better at least because I wanted to say that you are very beautiful.” The playfulness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Completely taking her off guard. Sure she’d gotten complements, but not often enough to make her used to them. The words of Jos not letting her believe them anyway. “Would it be alright if I give you my number?”
She lost all words in that moment. This had never happened before. “Sure-” she manages to stutter out before handing him her phone. The screen reading out things to her so she could get to her intended destination.
“I’ve never see a phone do that before.” Charles takes the phone from her and starts to put in his information.
She mentally face palms herself. Obviously he hasn’t realized she’s blind. “Actually I don’t have much of my eyesight.” She play with the bottom of her shirt. Her father having instilled in her that her blindness is something to be ashamed of.
“Wait- so you are blind? That is very interesting, I would like to know more if you’re okay with it.” The curiosity in his voice rising.
She wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody asks her questions about her condition. Even Christian doesn’t touch the subject and she never brings it up in conversation. “I guess, if your really interested.”
“Great, I’ll see you later tonight. Send me the address of where you’re staying.” His playful and flirty manner never faulted as he walked past her. Leaving the girl confused and blushing.
Little did she know that Charles had seen her around the paddock. Mostly hanging off of Max’s arm. He assumed she’d never notice him wave or try to get her attention. Turns out she couldn’t see him. He knows better then to assume. He blames it on the anxiety of being around her.
The youngest Verstappen finished up her duties as quick as possible. Catching a ride with her brother back to the hotel. He has learned to read her though and immediately noticed something was different. “What’s going on with you? You seem very smiley today.” He laughs.
“I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me.” She did her best not to appear nervous but was ultimately failing. Her hands fiddling in her lap.
“I could never hate you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She glances over at him. Eyes planted on the road. His calm demeanor putting her at ease. “Charles Leclerc asked me on a date tonight.”
Max begins laughing hysterically. His once smooth driving now a bit jerky from his sudden movements. “You thought I would hate you because of a date?”
She stutters a bit. “Well- aren’t you two rivals?” She manages. His laughing throwing her emotions all over the place.
“Sure, on the track. Off the track we are still friends and I trust him.” He explains. Relief floods through her body at his words. Her confidence in the situation going up a little.
She can feel the smug look on Max’s face. “Do you want help getting ready?”
~
The two siblings spent over an hour playing dress up. Max eventually having to video call Victoria and ask her opinion. The two trying to make their sister feel like she owns the world.
Dressing is less tricky then make-up. Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was worth the struggle and didn’t put it on. Some day she had to call Victoria to make sure everything looked right. If there was good lighting she was typically fine, but tonight was not one of those nights.
Growing up between two sisters, Max had learned a decent amount about make-up. He even enjoyed getting to do it on his sisters if they would let him. The almost squeal he let our when his sister asked for help was both hilarious and ridiculous. Immediately setting things up on the bathroom counter and going to work.
Max could tell his sister was anxious. Their father having scared away any of your potential boyfriends. Even going as far as to tell they that she is diseased. One of the worst things about having Jos around the garage, is that you’re left with him.
Though Max has stepped in many time and even lectured his father about his word choices, he never let up on any of the Verstappen children. All of them getting some aspect of their father’s insecurity thrown back at them like it’s their fault.
When he was done, Max tried to sooth your nerves. “Dad isn’t around. He’s in his own hotel room. Go have fun.”
And that’s exactly what she did.
The conversation between her and Charles flowed. He asked questions that weren’t invasive and was respectful if she didn’t want to answer. He made her laugh ridiculously hard.
So they kept doing it. She had to follow Redbull for work which made things easier in the two. Finding down time to meet up or celebrating together after races.
After the season was over, the two went on a holiday together.
Charles spent a good amount of time learning from her (and in turn Max) how to guide if the need ever arose.
Charles was so gentle with her. Always letting her know if there was something unexpected around. Telling her who was in the room.
If felt like a dream. One she never wanted to wake up from. Charles had assured her multiple times that she wasn’t dreaming and that their love is very real.
But alas, Jos likes to make things difficult.
~
A few races into the new season, Charles still had yet to formally meet Jos and the Verstappen siblings intended on keeping it that way. It wasn’t secret. Everyone in the paddock know the two were dating. Jos just hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yet.
She’d mentioned her childhood a few times but could never get out the full extent of what happened. Charles thankfully is patient with her and lets her take her time. He knows Jos’ reputation. Her childhood couldn’t have been the most amazing with him around.
This particular race, she was forced into close proximity with him. There had been a mistake during a pit stop for Max which made him lose some positions. Ending the race in fifth. To her it isn’t bad at all, but to the angry Dutchman unleashing his fury on everything, it most certainly is.
Sensing his rising anger, she had pulled her father into a more secluded area. Hoping that Max wouldn’t come back to the garage for awhile. At least not before she could talk some sense into their father.
She said nothing as strings of curse words left his lips. Only waiting for him to run out of breath.
“Did you see how he got lazy? He would’ve finished higher after the idiots didn’t do their jobs if he had put in more effort.”
“Max put in all his effort and you know it.” She scoffs. Arms folded over her chest. This is nothing new to her.
“Like you have any room to talk.” He snaps back. Her head now sagging, knowing his anger is now finding a new direction.
Charles, on the other hand, had been looking for her. It’s his first win of the season and she is nowhere to be found. Max ran up to him as the podium celebration ended. Patting him on the back for his well earned win.
“Have you seen your sister anywhere, mate?” He asked the Dutch.
Max ponders for a moment. “She might still be in the garage debriefing after what happened.” He replies. “I can walk you over if you want.”
The two drivers made their way to the Redbull garage to find most of those who would normally be inside, standing outside in a huddle. “What the hell is happening?” Max shouts over to Christian as the two approach him.
“I was just about to go find you.” Christian sighs in exasperation. “Can I call security on your father? He hasn’t stopped shouting since the race finished up.”
Charles and Max exchanged glances. The young woman’s absence now making more sense. “I’ll try and talk him down.” Stated Max before weaving his way through the sea of Redbull shirts. Charles following close behind.
Before the two could get further away, Christian yelled out to them. “Good luck, your sister has been trying!” The statement make the two move faster.
Charles could feel his emotions bubbling as the shouting got louder. As him and Max turn the corner, he immediately spots who he’d been looking for. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt around the floor looking for something.
Max steps in between her and the angry Dutch, shouting back and forth in their native tongue. Charles tries to spot what she’s feeling for. Scanning the ground until he spots her phone. The entire thing shattered. Small pieces of glass just barely reflecting the light. He’s down by her side in an instant.
“Love, it’s Charles, max is here also, I’m going to get you out of here okay?”
Her body turns towards Charles. It’s then he notices the specks of blood dotting her hands from feeling around the glass and a deep purple bruise forming on her forehead.
She’s struggling to breath now. Listening to the angry shouts. The pain in her head and the bright fluorescents not helping her see anything. She back in the crash.
Her father had spend from the end of the race until now laying into her. She had successfully defended Max and thought she was prepared to take the brunt of it. Until he snatch her phone and threw it at her. It hit her head so hard she was in the ground in seconds. Trying to feel her way around to where it might have gone so she could call Max.
The words were so familiar to her. The ones she heard in her nightmares when she was once again surrounded by smoke and bright lights stealing away her vision.
“I don’t want to crash again Charles. It’s to hot. It hurts too much. I can’t see anything.” She tried to search for him but ended up with more glass in her palm. The tears only thickening.
“Stay put, okay? I’m going to help Max and then I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want to leave her on the floor. She looked like a child, and so did Max in this moment. The two getting their fathers wrath with no end in sight.
Charles sprints back to Christian, yelling at him to call security, then sprints back to Max.
“Mr. Verstappen I think you are out of line here.” Says the monegasque. Signaling Max to stay with you. He didn’t move at first but it was obvious he was getting nowhere, so he obliged. Kneeling down to help his sister calm her breathing.
Jos scoffs at Charles. “You have no right to get in between me and my children.” Anger pooling from his features.
“I mean no disrespect sir, but you’re being an asshole.”
“And is she-“ he jabs his finger at the girl on the floor, “-not disgusting.” Charles almost hits him but refrains from doing so knowing security will be arriving soon.
“On the contrary, I think she is an angel.”
“She’s diseased. She hasn’t even tried to fix her mistakes. Look at her! She just wants attention for what she did to herself!”
Now Charles doesn’t hesitate to punch him. His fist colliding with Jos’ jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall.
Max took his attention off his sister, who was leaning against him, and placed it on Charles. Shock clearly evident of his features.
Jos attempted to confront Charles again, but security finally showed up and escorted Jos out of the paddock.
Charles exhales, glad the confrontation is over. “That’s not how I imagined meeting your father for the first time.” Charles chuckles nervously.
Is doesn’t take much longer until Charles has his love safely wrapped in his arms. Whisking her away to his hotel room. Max had stayed ti make sure everything got cleaned up at the paddock. Kelly arriving shortly with Penelope in tow, ready to comfort Max.
She cried when they were finally safe inside. Pouring out to Charles about the accident and what it had caused in her life. He listened intently, doing his best to soothe the girl. Her panic still clearly evident.
Soon enough she’d calmed. Her head laying in Charles lap while he threaded his fingers through her hair.
“It don’t care what anyone else says. I see your beauty and it is not defined by what you can’t see.”
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ningningsdream · 2 months
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[4:28AM] "i still love you, y/n. it was dumb of me to let you go.", ex! jeno pleaded as he stood on your doorstep at an ungodly hour in the night, "everything i see reminds me of you. i've tried to move on but i can't help myself comparing everyone with you. i miss you even when i'm in a room full of people to distract me.", jeno rambled, his rosy cheeks hinting that he was probably a little tipsy.
today would've been your fifth-year anniversary if you stayed together.
"i thought of you every single day for almost a whole year after we broke up.", you said, looking at him.
"me-"
"let me finish.", you interrupted him, holding your index up, "i tried so hard not to, but it felt like the more i was trying to not think of you, the more i did. you were the first and last person i talked to every single day. some mornings, when i was still in a sleepy haze, i found myself looking at my phone to see if you had texted me and when reality hit me, it was another kind of pain. you were part of my everyday, you became a habit. it's hard getting rid of habits. i had to get used to say that i didn't have a boyfriend when asked about relationships, and i couldn't use 'my boyfriend and i already planned something' when i wanted to get out of things. i was wondering if i was the only one that had to hold myself back from sending you a text. i was wondering if you too, struggled with not having me in your life anymore."
"i did. i do. so much, y/n. you don't know how much i want to go back to slap some sense into myself and not break up with you. i was so overwhelmed with graduation, work and keeping up with family and friends that i thought i needed to get rid of something."
"so you got rid of me..."
"and i regret it so fucking much. the minute i saw the tears in your eyes i regretted it. i thought it was for the better, i was so busy i couldn't even be a proper boyfriend to you, and you deserved better than that. i thought letting you go was the best for the both of us."
"the best? i cried every single night for three months straight. not only because i missed you, but because as you said i deserved better. i knew that... i knew it but i also knew that if you showed up like this at my door back then i would've taken you back in a heartbeat. and it made me hate myself, because i loved you more than i loved myself."
"i'm so sorry, y/n. i really am-"
"babe! where are you?", you heard bf!renjun screaming from your room, with his sleepy and worried voice.
"i'll be right back, junnie.", you answered with a little smile on your face, imagining your boyfriend with his eyes closed and a pout on his face as his arm was lying on your empty side of the bed. you turned back to face jeno, whose face seemed like he saw a ghost, "jeno, i appreciate the apology... but you're a little too late. i've stopped waiting for you a long time ago.", you gave him a small apologetic smile.
jeno looked at you and realized how much he fucked up. you've rightfully moved on and he was the only one being stuck in something he created. when you replied to your boyfriend, that was when he noticed the smile on your face, the same smile that used to be directed to him, and that was the only time he saw you express happiness since he appeared on your doorstep.
"fuck, you're really here.", a familiar voice said right after you heard the elevator doors open.
"i really wished i was wrong.", another familiar voice said.
you turned your head and saw two people, you thought you wouldn't see again, walking towards your apartment.
"time to go home, samoyed."
"haechan. jaemin.", you greeted your ex's bestfriends.
"sorry for the disruption.", ex's bestfriend!haechan told you before grabbing jeno's arm and putting it around his shoulders, helping his friend walk away from your apartment and your life.
"how have you been ?", your old childhood bestfriend!jaemin said, letting jeno and haechan walk away first.
"great...you?"
"same."
the feeling of awkwardness and nostalgia could be sensed in the air. you looked at each other a few more seconds as all the memories of your friendship, from when you met in kindergarten to when he stayed by jeno's side when you two broke up, flashed through your eyes.
"baaaabeee!!", your boyfriend whined from far away, "come baaaack!"
"well, it's late. we're going to let you go back to your night. sorry about that.", jaemin nodded towards your ex, "and everything else...", hinting at his own mistakes.
you nodded, acknowledging his apology, "bye, jaem.", you gave him one last smile. it had been a while since he heard his nickname coming out of your mouth.
"bye, y/n.", jaemin returned your smile.
you watched him walk away with his two other friends, knowing that your byes stood as an official farewell to your friendship and his presence in your life.
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