#we all know deep roads are full of surprises | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formulaforza · 10 months

Text

—the seasons of love

or: the enemies to lovers situationship fic charles leclerc x female reader summ. spring and the lovely silence of growing things. minors dni. nsfw warnings under the cut. 7.6k part one part two part three part four part five

18+ because: oral (m receiving, rough), spit, hair pulling, drunk drunk drunk get crunk

“Goodnight Arthur,” you said, lingering behind as your family started off down the road in the opposite direction that he and his were.

Your dress, long and linen, blows in the evening breeze and draws goosebumps to your skin. Your hands clutch your phone and a small purse, the cross body strap wrapped around your hand three times. Your ponytail sways with your hips when you walk. Turning to Charles, you nod, purse a smile. “Charles.”

“Goodnight,” he replies curtly, perfectly polite.

“The two of you are still talking after a whole day together? Did Hell freeze over while we were out there?” Arthur laughs.

A strange silence, one that only you and Charles are aware of, swallows the lull of the cicadas in the streetlights. It’s early in the year for them, typically holding out on their spring song until a bit further into the season. Charles drags his feet on the concrete, drawing out every step to be a beat too slow. “Stranger things have happened,” he remarks under his breath, his middle finger picking at the cuticle of his thumb before shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

“Have they?” Arthur continues to poke fun at the two of you, at the unlikeliness of a quareless evening. You’re surprised, too. Never would have guessed a few hours earlier that the evening would end up the way it had.

(Five hours earlier)

He’s sulking and it's becoming pathetic. Every single thing about his body moves around the yacht like a kicked puppy, all sullen and blue and hosting another private-pity party. His sighs grow more and more dramatic, less and less patient with each moment that passes without someone feeling as bad for him as he feels for himself.

You knew, maybe better than anyone, how fiercely competitive he is, how much pressure he carries on his shoulders. You'd seen the highs and the lows of it all, and despite the underlying annoyance that was Charles, you still wanted what was best for him. It’s just human nature to hope.

This season has been beating him up, you knew, even if you didn’t follow it the way some of your friends did. Strategy has been shit, you’ve heard, luck somehow shitter. He’d talked such a big game before the start of the season, quietly confident and subtly cocky in a way that almost makes you believe he can predict the future.

Usually, you would relish in his annoyance, but today you’ve found yourself feeling oddly concerned. You refused to let him ruin the beautiful day, ruin the moods of your siblings and his. It’s the determination to save the day that leads you to the yacht railing, feet away from his brooding, lost in thought expression.

“You seem a bit off today,” you remarked, voice lades with a teasing tone, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

He glances up at you, a hint of a smile tugging on his lips. “You always have such a way of pointing out the obvious, don’t you?” He retorted, but his annoyance is all bark, no bite, softened entirely by the playful glint in his eyes.

“Well,” you shoot back, minorly annoyed, massively amused. “It’s not everyday you look like a sulking child.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And always full of delightful compliments,” he replied, gaze lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he tears them away.

You smirk, lean in a bit closer. “You love it,” you taunt.

He raises an eyebrow, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. “Oh, do I now?” He quips, leaning in just enough to make your stomach sink. You feign indifference to his words, but your body betrays you, leaning in a fraction closer.

“I know you better than you think,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

He chuckled again, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine. There’s something so deflated about him. “Is that so?” He muses, breath grazing against your ear, making your pulse quicken.

You take a step back, attempt to find some sort of composure. “Maybe,” you replied with a playful shrug, not daring to meet his gaze.

He leans in, fills the space you’d just created, mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re always under my skin,” he admits, a hue of vulnerability in his voice leaving you unsettled.

You finally meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his. “You love the challenge, though, don’t you?” You countered, tone serious now, hinting at something more, something deeper.

He hesitates, a flicker of emotion crossing his features before he masks it with a smirk. “Maybe I do,” he replied, voice low and suggestive.

The conversation drolls on, seconds between your words filled with charged silence. The subtle dance of glances and touches only adds to the tension, and you found yourself unable to break away, to return to the rest of the family on the upper deck. No, no, you have a feeling you’ll be going lower, even, farther away from them and closer to some private silence.

“Do you ever wonder?” he asks, voice soft and full of curiosity. You have no interest in entertaining his words.

“I don’t,” you reply, trying to keep your tone guarded.

His brows furrow, challenging you. “Really?” Charles questions, his skepticism evident.

You shrug. “It’s just easier this way, isn’t it?” you retort, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. Bitter that he feels entitled to ruin something that’s working just fine.

“Easier?” He echoes, curiosity evident as he leans in even closer.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you meet his intense gaze. “Yeah, easier,” you say, the words spewing out with a touch of frustration. “It’s just a game.”

He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for any sign of vulnerability. You hope you’re talented enough to conceal them, that your secondary school drama class teacher taught you well. “You think it’s that simple?” he challenges, voice just painfully soft.

“It’s not simple at all,” you admit, guard slipping for only a moment. “But it’s just what we do. It’s comfortable, in its own way.”

He nods, seeming to understand your reluctance. “So, what?” He asks, a trace of bitterness in his tone. “We just keep using each other whenever we feel like it?”

A mess of emotions swirls inside you as you meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe,” you remark, defiant. “But it’s better than facing the alternative.”

He seems to consider your words, the wright of your unspoken history. “You’re afraid,” he observes. Charles has called you afraid a million and one times in your life; from a ponytailed scaredy-cat to a selfish coward, he’s checked the box on every synonym. This time, though, his voice isn’t teasing or raging red. No, it’s surprisingly gentle.

Your ears burn red hot. “I’m not afraid of anything,” you snap, try to push down everything just begging to boil over inside of you.

He reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You ignore the jolt of electricity, the fact that a simple touch holds more meaning than any words the two of you could exchange. You’re annoyed, now. Annoyed with him and the longing you refuse to acknowledge. It’s a powerful cocktail that you don’t want to begin to comprehend.

He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Not with me.”

You heart pounds in your chest as you resist the urge to lean into him, to seek some fucked up sort of comfort in his arms. Instead, you push him away, maintain a safe distance. “I’m not afraid of you,” you say, voice horribly hushed. “I’m afraid of what this could become.”

He looks at you, some indistinguishable mix of emotions, of understanding and frustration and something else. “And what do you think this could become?” he asks, voice tinged with an edge of desire.

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacts to his proximity. “I don’t know,” you admit, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. “But I don’t want to find out.”

He smiles like he knows something you don’t. It makes you crazy. “You’re always so stubborn,” he remarks, fingers moving from your hand to your jaw, brushing against your cheek. “Part of what drives me crazy about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away. The tension is palpable, unspoken words hanging in the heavy air.

“I could help take your mind off things,” you suggest, voice low and suggestive. “Just for a little while.”

He raises a brow, surprise evident in his expression. “Oh?” he replies, voice a mix of intrigue and amusement. You give him a playful smirk, leaning in a bit closer. You can play games, too.

“I can be pretty distracting,” you tease, fingers moving to his arm, tracing circles on the linen covering his arm.

He hesitates, you’ve got him torn. He says your name, attempts to steer the conversation back to the emotions you’re so clearly dancing around.

But you cut him off, not willing to back down. “Please,” you sigh, your voice full of longing and playfulness. “Let me take your stress.”

He puts his foot down. Protests weakly. “We can’t just ignore this.”

For a moment, you consider pushing the issue further. Deep down, somewhere unexplored, you know that this isn’t the right time. So, you take a step back, move to walk away. Before you can take another step, his hand is on your wrist, pulling you back to him.

His lips crash against yours in a fierce and desperate kiss, and you lose yourself in the intensity of the moments. The motions that have been building under the surface finally finds an outlet, and you can’t resist the pull any longer.

You both give in to the passion, into the physical connection and the muddled emotions. It’s a moment of surrender, of letting go. For now, it’s enough. For now, you can avoid the conversation.

You’re no more than a few steps away from the stairs, make quick work of them, of the lock on the door to the master suite. You didn’t even know the doors had locks on them. You hope they’re half as soundproof as they are expensive, but you doubt it.

You’re already pawing for his cock, palming the chilly, half-damp material of his swim trunks before slipping your hand under the waistband, taking the fabric out of the equation entirely.

You look up at him, look for his reaction, check to make sure that his eyes aren’t harboring some sick softness to them. The whole point of this is to get the softy shit off his mind, to leave him so satisfied that he doesn’t remember wanting to have that conversation with you, that he doesn’t remember how shitty his season’s going and how he’s latched onto something that doesn’t exist.

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper into his mouth. “Anything.”

He whinges at your words, mumbles something to himself, cupping your jaw with his hands. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you roll your eyes, but then his thumb is on your bottom lip, firm and heavy. “This fucking mouth,” he grumbles.

Your fingers wrap around his cock, big and thick and warm. You run your thumb over his head, smile at the precum pooling there, spreading it around and watching the way his face twitches. You play coy, look at him with your biggest, most innocent doe eyes. “What about it?”

He rocks on his feet, moves himself ever so slightly through your hand. He either thinks you’re oblivious to it, or he’s completely clueless to his own actions. Either way, it’s hot, and you stroke him that little bit faster. “Wanna feel it,” he says, thumb still on your lip, sinking into your mouth, onto your tongue, pushing you down, down, down onto your knees.

The floor is cold, but you don’t care, so are his swim trunks. It’s hard, though, like most floors would be, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises by nightfall. You pull his shorts down, dick bouncing out of the waistband, twitching while he steps out of the fabric, kicks it to the side somewhere in the tiny room.

As you look up at him, a myriad of emotions wash over you. This dance is becoming so familiar, and yet, you’re surprised each time by the intensity of it. Even though you’d offered yourself, you find a way to be annoyed at how he uses you like this, turns you into a vessel to vent his stress and frustration. The other part of you, though, is so fucking turned on. Completely and utterly satisfied by the fact that you have this effect on him, that you can make him forget about his troubles, even if just temporarily.

His eyes meet yours, that same vulnerability still there. It’s a regular sight for other people, to be looked at like this by him. It’s not your normal, though. It’s rare, something that tugs on you, makes you wonder what he’s thinking, desire a level of understanding that goes beyond the physical.

You push those thoughts aside as quickly as you can, remind yourself that this is all casual. That you and he, this is nothing.

You spit into your hand, stroke it over his cock until it’s hard and wet and just crying for you. Your tongue trails a long stripe, from the base of his shaft to the head, swirling around his most sensitive spot. You’ve found yourself growing annoyingly fond of the noises you can pull from him. It’s a game within a game, pushing the limits to find just how pained you can make him sound.

His hands run through your hair, slow and smooth, gathering your hair into a soft ponytail. You move a hand to his, push it against your head as if to tell him–fuck me, Charles. Use me.

“Wait,” he says, and you pull off him with a pop.

“What?” You probe, irritated that he’s already got something to say.

“You have to tell me if I hurt you.”

You smirk, bite the inside of your cheek like you’re working through a real head-scratcher, putting on your best sarcastic tone. “And how do you suppose I do that?”

“I’m serious.”

Your shoulders recoil into a shrug, a laugh helplessly falling from your lips. “So am I.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, visibly apprehensive. This never would have been an issue in January, back when the only thing he did was be openly annoyed by you. No, it’s all different now. He’s got feelings, now, wants to fucking worry about you and care about you. It makes your stomach twist and turn and knot.

You roll your eyes. This is ridiculous, how many guys out here are stopping a woman from letting them do whatever they fucking want. It can’t be more than him, it can’t. “For fucks… you’ll know if you’re hurting me.”

He nods. “But how… will I know?”

“I don’t know… I’ll punch you in the dick or something.”

He laughs, a direct juxtaposition to his words. “You are not funny.”

You shrug, scowl. “I think I’m pretty funny.”

“I don’t know why you would think this.”

You purse your lips, puff a breath of air out of them, and hold up a single finger, pointing to him. “Fuck you,” you laugh. “I’ll tap the back of your leg,” you explain, demonstrating the gesture. “Is that good enough?”

His hands move through your hair again, fix his carefully crafted ponytail you’d messed up. “Yes. Thank you.”

You roll your eyes, take his dick in your hand again and start stroking. “Can I…?”

He nods. “I’m not stopping you.”

“I mean… “ you mumble against his skin, “you just did but…” and then you take him again, hollowed cheeks and flat tongue.

“Jesus, you are insufferable,” he remarks, and you laugh around his dick. It makes him shudder.

You try to focus on the moment, on his fingers gently grazing over your skin, hands guiding your head with a mixture of need and urgency. You gag around his dick, choking on the thick shaft as it fills your mouth so perfectly. “Putain, fuck, so good,” he groans. You’d smile up at him if you could.

The ponytail he’d been so proud of was nothing but a knotted mess now, his fingers tangling in search of grip. You hope he forgets it’s you, that it’s anyone. That he fucks into your throat until your couching and gagging and spit drips down your face, tears prick at your eyes. You hope your throat hurts tomorrow, that you lose your voice and gargle salt water and he’s the only person in the world who knows why. You hope you have to tap out on the back of his thigh.

You come pretty close, the way he uses you like a filthy toy. Everytime you think you’re about to break, he pulls off your mouth, leaves you heaving for air, wiping spit off your face with the back of your hand. He leans down to kiss you once, hand under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his lips. You hope he tastes himself, knows just how good it is, how content you are with your life’s purpose.

“Pretty girl,” he says, and you hum against his dick. It’s not often you’re on the receiving end of praise from him. “Take me so good.”

You’ve learned to know when he’s close, exactly how his body reacts when it’s lost all sight of anything but finishing. His pace gets silly, all kinds of unsynchronized and messy. He gets really quiet for a minute, spends all of it fighting with himself before he finally accepts it, and then he’s loud. A mix of nonsensical languages and curses, of groans and hums and remnants of what sounds like it wants to be your name.

He’s a mess, and then he’s holding your head as close as he can, your nose pressed against the muscles of his abdomen as he bottoms out, drains himself into the back of your throat with a breathy, pained groan.

You swallow around him greedily, want everything he has to give, all his cum and all his whimpers. He thrusts in and out of your mouth a few more times, and then he’s pulling out completely, hands cupping your face, pulling you up to stand. He kisses you, hard, and you still haven’t caught your breath–neither of you have–but you kiss until you can’t anymore, until your lungs burn to be filled with something that isn’t him.

His thumbs wipe your face, the spit from your lips and the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he tells you, back arching to lower himself to your height.

You want to swat his hands away. Clearly, though, this is something he feels he needs to do. “Why?” you chuckle. “That was hot.”

He matches your laugh, but his is laced with uneasy concern as he continues to try to clean up your face, fixing your hair and kissing you again, this time all soft and sure. “You’re crazy.”

“Yeah,” you pant. “You’re into it, though.”

You wonder if he regrets this, if he’s known all along the same way you have that this won’t end well, that it never would. His face mirrors yours, open mouth breathing and heaving chests and a mix of half a dozen emotions. You both know this is how it has to be, that anything more would be too complicated to manage. It stops you from the wonder. You hope it stops him.

He sticks his head out of the door a few minutes later, after you’d ducked into the stall-sized bathroom and properly fixed yourself, untangled your hair and tied it back securely into a ponytail with the tie from your wrist.

You laugh at him for it, push him out from behind and tell him to drop the high-schooler act. “Wait here,” he tells you, tries to close the door on you. He doesn’t hear you catch it, doesn’t turn back to see you following him up the stairs from a few steps behind.

You’d wonder why he doesn’t hear your feet, but, if he’d just done to you what you did to him, your ears would probably still be ringing, all full and overwhelmed.

“Charles!” Your Mom’s voice carries down the stairs just as his head appears on the second level. “You haven’t seen–” his ears blush bright red, head snapping back to you. Jesus, can we have some subtlety? “Oh,” your Mom laughs when she spots you a couple steps behind him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh. Charles can’t look at you, he stares right past. “We were fighting, isn’t that right, Charles?”

“Oh?” She chuckles.

Charles’ eyes snap to you. He nods. “First rule of fight club, you know.”

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you look back to your Mom. “What did you need, Mama?”

“Just wondering if you want a drink,” she says.

“Only if you mix it strong,” you say, and your Mom is already setting off back towards the rest of the group on the top level. With silent understanding, you and he both fall back into your respective roles; the arrogant, fearless prick and the spoiled, bratty princess. It’s better this way. It’s better this way.

“Well,” you chuckle, pat him on the shoulder as you move past him on the stairs. “Aren’t you just a blushing bride?”

The anticipation in the air is palpable, all of you here in Ricky’s parents’ apartment–an added guest this year in sweet little Chiara. You’ve all watched the race here since before Charles could imagine this being his reality, the balcony providing a perfect overlook onto the iconic circuit. The sun bathes the track in golden rays, like even Mother Nature knows that it’s going to be a historic day.

Excitement crackles like electricity, sparking from person to person, igniting contagious grins and animated chattering. Your heart flutters with a unique blend of nerves and exhilaration, Charles’ undying Monaco optimism seeking into even your most pessimistic veins.

Antoine sets up his camera on the balcony, is interviewing half of you for Charles’ next YouTube video. You steal glances of your friends the entire time, feeling strangely sentimental about all the love in the room. On the sofa, Marta bounces Chiara on her knee, absentmindedly shakes a rattle in front of the infant, eyes watching the pre-race coverage on the television. Ricky, on the balcony, the first interviewee, beams with pride watching them. The guys all buzz with excitement, half of them glued to the TV, the other half carefully pulling tight the zip-ties on the now infamous banner, anxiously awaiting the start of the race.

You watch from beside Marta as the national anthem plays. She tickles Chiara’s feet, pulls little giggles from the baby’s lips. Your focus remains on Charles, though, his face on the screen. You don’t know how many laps you’ve seen him drive around this country, how many ups and downs he navigated in this sport, but you know that today feels different. You can see it etched into his features, the fire in his eyes and the resurgence in his confidence since Baku. It’s like he knows today is his day, that nothing can stand in the way, that the sun will shine on him and the champagne will spray.

The engines roar to life, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You move to the balcony, can’t bear to watch the start from a screen, knowing that it’s one of the most crucial parts of the next seventy-eight laps. Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythmic revving of the cars, and the world around you falls away as you focus on the starting grid. The lights illuminate, they're out, and the race is on.

Charles makes a picture perfect start, no. It’s better than that, better, because the crowd roars louder than you think you’ve ever heard as he catapults himself past Max and into the lead, and your breath catches in your throat.

He’s in control, navigating every corner and chicane with precision, never once giving into the pressure of the bullet behind him. Max tries, he tries and tries, to close in on Charles, but he holds him, defends his position with skill and tenacity that makes you attracted to a helmet, to the mind it protects.

With each passing lap, you expect the crowd to die down, but they don’t. You find yourself rallying with your friends, joining into the country-wide chorus of voices and cheers. Every maneuver, ever inch he gains on Max, fills you with excitement and awe. He’s like a force of nature, a breathtaking sight.

The laps wind down, and his lead over Max grows. You can’t help but let out a joyful whoop. He’s doing it. This is the day he shuts everyone up about the curse. Yesterday is the last day you get to tease him about it. The realization washes over you that he’s going to win at home, and your heart swells with pride.

The final lap approaches, and you hold your breath, moving inside, to watch the screen, to stare like your glare could will him to find an extra tenth. As he takes the checkered flag, a deafening roar erupts, reverberating through the streets.

Your friends join in a celebration, hugging and cheering as if you’re the ones standing on the podium. Antoine is giddy behind his camera, and you’re sure half the footage will be unusable with shaky hands.

You found pause in the celebrations to watch him get out of the car, all arms swinging and firsts clenched. He stands on the halo of his car, pointing to the Ferrar emblem on his chest, over his heart. He jumps off and moves to congratulate Esteban, only to be met with a hug from the other driver. Max joins them quickly, strong handshakes and hard pats on the back before any of them are taking their helmets off.

David Coulthard is waiting for him. Charles makes him wait, gets his bracelets and his watch from Andrea before picking up his microphone. “Charles, congratulations on your stunning victory! How are you feeling right now?” Your fingers find your lips, cover your smile and laugh. Charles has no idea how he feels.

“Thank you!” He grins, all young and dimpled, purely pure. If you didn’t know better, you’d think a giddy first-grader had just won the biggest race in the world. “I don’t know,” he laughs. “It’s just… wow. I’m on top of the world right now, to be honest.”

He looks so tired and yet so, so full of life. Like the adrenaline is the only thing keeping him up, all sweaty hair and balaclava lines. You want to kiss him, to trail your fingers along every indent in his skin. “You led the race from start to finish, and it was quite a battle with Max. Tell us about your strategy and how you managed to hold that lead.”

“It was definitely not an easy race,” he says, still smiling. You’re shocked he hasn’t lost his English yet, he always does when he gets over excited. “Max is a great driver and I knew he would not make it easy for me. Our strategy was to be aggressive from the start. I tried to manage my tyres. I think it all paid off in the end.”

“Your victory today makes you the first Monegasque driver to win the Monaco Grand Prix since Louis Chiron in 1931. How does it feel to be a part of this historic moment?”

“It’s a tremendous honor. Louis is an inspiration to all Monegasque drivers, to follow his footsteps is truly special.”

“Fantastic, thank you, Charles. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, thank you!” He says, holds up a thumbs up as he walks away and winks. Well, he tried to wink. The inability to do so might be the least suave thing about him.

The screen transitions to the cool-down room, to Max talking Esteban’s ear off, lighting up with a smile when Charles enters. The camera focuses on Charles in the corner, setting his helmet and his towel down on the table in front of his name, drinking an entire water bottle in two gulps, opening another and taking up a conversation with the others.

Joris snaps a finger in front of your face. “Sorry, what?” You ask, eyes snapping to him.

“I asked if you want champagne?” he chuckles.

“Oh,” you smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

When you look back, they’ve already cut to the empty podium, announcing Esteban’s third place finish to a loud applause. He celebrates like he won the thing, which you admire. Next is Max, who is met with applause, but it's noticeably less than the roar that follows when Charles’ name is announced.

The room around you is half as loud as the rest of the country, laughing and screaming wild for Charles. Jo and Ricky pop open Champagne bottles on the balcony, send the corks flying to God only knows where, hastily filling up the glasses beside them and passing them out.

Even from blocks away, where he is just a red dot, where your friends arms are over your shoulder sipping champagne and humming along with the national anthem, you feel a strange connection to him, something beyond the bickering and annoyance. Something beyond the sex, maybe. Something just… something happy, or proud, or just plain soft, maybe. Soft like his smile while he gets drenched in Champagne by the two others on the podium.

(six hours later)

Joris’ knowing glances didn’t escape your notice, and it made you uneasy. You wondered if Charles was crass enough, if he has been sharing secrets about your little arrangement. The thought of it sends a shiver down your spin. The idea of anyone glimpsing into the tangled web that is you and Charles now made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

You sipped your drink, trying to focus on the chatter around you, but your mind just keeps looping back to him. His laughter, his smile. His very presence seems to pull on you, and it doesn’t help that you know he feels the same way, that he has for weeks now. You quickly brush away the thought each time, unwilling to entertain the idea of anything beyond the surface of your friendship.

“You seem a bit distant tonight,” Jo remarked, voice pulling you back to the present.

You force a smile, hope he won’t detect the unease that drenches your demeanor. “Just a bit tired, I suppose,” you replied casually, averting his gaze, staring into the bottom of your glass as you spun the clear liquor around.

He didn’t push further, but the look on his face tells you he sees right through you, makes you feel that much more exposed. You take a deep breath, attempt to steady yourself, but the questions linger like shadows in the back of your mind.

The night wears on, and Charles wears your eyes, a near constant sightline from you to him. It was easy to steal glances when he looks like that, when his easy charm and infectious laughter draws everyone in.

You don’t dare confront the truth, not here, not now. It was easier to stay in the safe confines of what you knew, what you’d established, emotions locked away in a heart-shaped locket hung round your neck.

The party shows no signs of winding down, and you need air. You slip away from the group, out the back door to the curb where all the smokers hide. You found yourself drawn to the quiet of it, where it was just you, your thoughts, and the smell of tobacco.

With the distant laughter and celebrations faded into the night, you allow yourself to be candid, to admit the truth, if only to yourself. There was a part of you that yearned for something more, a part of you that longed to explore what might be with him.

But he was right. You are afraid, you are. Afraid of what it means to let your guard down, to open up to the unknown. The vulnerability that comes with the admission is daunting, shit straight from a horror movie, like a trap. You were standing on a cliff, a dangerous precipice that threatened to unravel everything you’d sloppily built. This life is held together with bubblegum and toothpicks, it can’t stand the shake.

So, as you stood there on the back step, you made a silent promise to yourself. A promise to stay safe, to guard your heart and keep your feelings hidden from him, from everyone.

You returned to the party, unable to fully shake the weight of what gnawed on you. The cocktail of emotions was overwhelming, and you found solace in the bottom of a glass. Joris egged you on, kept the shots coming, and Marta made it more fun.

However, as the alcohol flowed freely, your tipsiness quickly spiraled into something more intense. With each drink, your inhibitions crumbled into a reckless pursuit of distraction. Each shot pushed the turmoil down further.

Marta slowed down first, opting to be cautious on her first “big night out” since having the baby. She could focus on the company and the laughter you feared. Joris started sober, too, tried to keep an eye on you the best he could, but you were determined to lose yourself to the moment.

The music thumped loudly, and the energy of the party was infectious. You danced with wild abandon, uncaring of the curious glances and amused whispers that followed. The alcohol had stripped back any reservations, leaving behind a version of yourself you barely recognize, all carefree and daring and reckless.

Jo tried to reason with you, to suggest you call it an early night, but you were having none of it. “I’m fine, really,” you insisted, slurring your words slightly. “Let’s do another shot!”

He reluctantly agreed, but the more you drank, the more erratic your behavior became. You danced with strangers, laughed loud and flirted shamelessly, trying to fill the void with temporary connections. Amidst the sea of bodies, you caught the eye of a handsome stranger. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a mischievous glint in his eye that instantly intrigued you. He moved with confident grace, and you were like a moth to a flame.

He made his way toward you, playful smirk on his lips. “I couldn’t help but notice you across the room,” he said, voice low and alluring.

You laughed, feeling the effects of alcohol emboldening you. “Oh, really? And what is it that caught your attention?”

He leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear as he mumbled, “Your smile. It’s as captivating as the stars.”

You blushed at his compliment, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, trying to keep up the playful banter.

He chuckled, his finger lightly grazing the small of your back. “Only when I’m in the presence of someone this beautiful.”

You grinned, enjoying the flirtatious exchange. “You know how to flatter a girl,” you replied, heart racing at his touch.

He leaned in even closer, the proximity between you sending sparks flying. “I can be even more convincing,” he said, voice low and seductive.

You raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. “Is that so?”

He smirked, gaze never leaving yours. “Oh, absolutely,” he replied. “But you’ll have to let me prove it.”

A thrill coursed through you as the chemistry between the two of you intensified. You were well aware it was just a fleeting moment, a casual flirtation in the middle of a wild night out. But something about this stranger has ignited a spark in you, and you found yourself tempted to play along.

The two of you danced together, the electric energy between you creating an intoxicating allure. His hands traced patterns along your waist. You get lost in the moment, in the music, in the touch of a stranger.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asked, and you laughed.

“No,” you replied, and abandoned your spot with him before he could protest any further.

At some point, you stumbled outside for fresh air, feeling the world spin around you. The cool night air did little to sober you up, and instead, it only dueled your recklessness. You leaned against the railing, teetering on the edge between exhilaration and oblivion.

Joris found you there, concern etched on his face. He calls your name, “Maybe we should call it a night. You’ve had enough.”

But you shook your head defiantly, a stubborn gleam in your eyes. “I’m not done yet,” you slurred. “I want more.”

He sighed like he knew it was pointless to attempt to reason with you like this, made you promise to stay put, told you he was off to get you another drink and he would be right back.

As he left for your promised drink, you found yourself swaying in your shoes, the world around you still spinning. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gain some composure, but the liquor is taking it’s toll. When the door opened, you opened your eyes again, met with Joris–no drink, but with Charles in tow.

You laughed. “Hey, Charles,” you slurred, grabbing onto his arm for support.

He looked down at you, a mix of surprise and annoyance crossing his features. “Are you alright?” he asked, glancing around as if someone would magically appear to care for you.

You ignored his question. “I want you to dance with me,” you demanded, tugging on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

He frowned, clearly not thrilled by the idea. “You’re drunk. Maybe you should sit down and take it easy,” he suggested, trying to lead you back inside, no doubt in the direction of a chair.

“No,” you pouted. “I want to dance.” You didn’t care that you looked like a mess, or that your coordination was shot. All you wanted was to forget, to lose yourself in the music and the movement.

Charles sighed, clearly exasperated, but let you tug him all the way back inside to dance. He keeps a cautious distance, as if he was worried you might fall over at any moment, which, granted. You very well might. You swayed and you twirled, laughing without regard for how ridiculous you looked.

As the music pulsed through you, you were suddenly stuck with severe guilt. You were angry at yourself for getting so drunk, for losing control like this. You were mad at him, too, annoyed by his incessant need to attempt to care for you, for never just letting you be. And yet, at the same time, you were so drawn to him and his soft eyes, to the concern and frustration and the way he cared about you even when you pushed him away.

The song changed. Something slower, more sensual. You dance closer to him and he hesitates, clearly unsure of what to do. You laugh, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You could feel his heart racing, his body tense with restraint.

“We shouldn’t…” he started to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss. It was messy and desperate, per usual, fueled by alcohol and unspoken emotions. He hesitates for just a moment before giving in, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You pulled away breathless, looked up at him all defiant and bratty. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you whisper, and it comes out far more vulnerable than you intended, all squeaky and cracked. “I can handle myself.”

He looked torn, his usual composure slipping momentarily, before reverting to his usual ways. “Someone fucking has to,” he finally spoke.

You wanted to protest, to push him away, but the words all get stuck in your throat. Instead, you lean in to kiss him again, fingers tanging into his hair. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to forget it all, to lose yourself in him and the way he made you feel. “Thank you for dancing with me.”

“Can’t believe I got your sloppy seconds,” he quips.

“What?”

“The guy who tried to take you home earlier,” he laughed. “Looked like a prick.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Him.”

“Yeah, you really hit it off with him, didn’t you?” Charles said with a hint of sarcasm. You struggled to read if he was joking or if he was just barely keeping his irritation in check.

You grinned, words still slurring. “Oh, you’re just jealous.” you shot back at him, leaning closer.

“Please,” he scoffed. “Like I could ever be jealous of that guy.”

“You’re right,” you laughed, your body pressing against his as you stumbled slightly. “You just won the Monaco Grand Prix.”

The rest of the evening continues in much of the same way, with Charles having to play babysitter to a very drunk–and very handsy–you. He tried to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of composure, but you made it hard constantly pulling him into your orbit.

At some point, you find yourselves alone on a sofa, the noise around you fading somewhere far off. You were giggling about something, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You know,” you said, “this is all your fault.”

He quirked a brow. “My fault? How do you figure?”

You Smirked, reaching up to play with a strand of his hair. “You’re the one who got me all worked up with that kiss earlier,” you said, voice low and teasing.

His cheeks burnt bright pink. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

“Oh please, Charles. You know exactly what you’re doing,” you said, voice taking on a more serious tone. “You’re always doing this, pulling me in and then pushing me away.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” He scoffs, turning his head to face you, knocking your head off his shoulder in the process. “You’re the one doing that.”

You feel a pang of guilt at his words. You know he’s right, that tonight is just the next night of you sending him mixed signals. It’s been going on like this for months, but you don’t know how to stop, how to untangle the mess. “I don’t mean to,” you say softly, defenses dropping for a moment. “It’s just… complicated.”

He nodded. “I know,” he speaks quietly. “It’s just hard. Trying to figure out where we stand.”

You sigh, running your hand through your hair. “I know. I do.” You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air. You wished you could say something, anything, to tell him how you feel, but all the words are stuck. Instead, you reach for his hand, intertwine your fingers and look up at him, big pupils in the dimly lit room. “I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you said softly, voice hardly above a whisper.

“I don’t either,” he said, his thumb stoking your hand gently.

The moment is interrupted by Joris, who appears from around the corner out of nowhere, looking half as annoyed as the two of you must. “There you two are,” he said, relief and irritation clouding his words. “It’s time to go,” he says, pointing directly to you. “You’ve had enough.”

You groaned, but you didn’t protest. You lean on Charles the whole walk to Joris’ car.

As you arrived back at your apartment, he helped you inside and settled you into bed. He tucked you in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Sleep well,” he whispered, voice soft and tender.

You smile sleepily, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You too,” you murmured. He turns to leave, but before he could go, you grab his wrist, holding it tightly. “Stay,” you said, voice barely audible.

He hesitates for a moment, you can feel it in the air even with your eyes closed, can feel his heart beating in his wrist. Eventually, though, he gives in, slides into bed beside you. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you nuzzle into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

“You’re so warm,” you mumbled, words still pathetically sloshed.

He chuckles softly, the annoyance in his eyes starting to fade. “Well, I am always warm,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood, to ease the awkwardness.

You giggled, snuggling even closer to him. “You’re my human heater,” you said, voice filled with affection.

As the minutes passed, you started to drift off to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and steady. You could see the struggle in his eyes as your lids grew heavier, the depth of care for you he tried so hard to hide.

When you wake up in the middle of the night, hints of a sunrise beginning to push through the curtains, you find him still awake. He looked lost in thought, afraid, almost. Desperately, you wanted to reach out, to ask him what was wrong, but feared pushing him away more than anything.

You settle against his chest, listen to the sound of his heart beating against your ear, feel yours match it. Finally, exhaustion catches up to him, his body relaxing as he drifts off to sleep. As you lay there, you can’t help your tired mind and it’s delusions of a future where you don’t have to hide your feelings, where you can be together openly and honestly, and then you’re falling back asleep yourself.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #cl16 #f1 smut #charles leclerc angst

1K notes · View notes

rveyjules · 8 months

Text

A Second Chance

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings, p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, tummy bulge, breeding, impreg kink, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the fourth part of my story. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first. additional note: I think this is considered as part of Kinktober. To my babies, mga anak, and so on, this is it! Enjoy!

—

It was midnight when you and Leon made it to your secret place— an apartment unit you bought without your father or even your brothers knowing. The whole ride was filled with sexual tension that he almost stopped on the side of the road just to make out with you. But you tamed his urge by holding his hand.

And the moment you stepped your foot inside your territory, Leon pulled you into a passionate kiss. You yelped at how sudden his movements were but the fact that you wanted this makes you hate him even more for making you feel this way. Like, his kiss was full of passion. He was proving how much he missed having a connection with you in a passionate way.

Comparing it to the kisses you both shared when the two of you were younger, this is way better than quick kisses. And when his tongue slipped into your mouth, you moaned in bliss because damn, it feels so good. The room was dimmed, only the light of the lamp and the city lights stood as your light.

“My sweet, sweet Y/n…” He whispered as he pulled away, giving you time to breathe.

You cupped his cheeks and looked deeply into his eyes. His eyes are filled with lust and passion. He needs you, you need him too. There’s no point of denying yourself to him. You admitted to yourself on the cliff that you still love him. And on his side, he always loved you even though fifteen passed, hiding behind shadows to keep an eye on you.

Pressing your foreheads together, Leon whispers, “Let’s be that perfect couple everyone hates.” You chuckled and replied, “How does everyone hate us when we become a couple again?”

“David will hate you for choosing me instead of him when your marriage is already settled. He will hate me for stealing his girl but wait, have you ever become his anyway?” You chuckled at his response, pulling away from him.

“Tell that to him and he’ll pull out his trump cards. You’re taking the woman that was supposed to marry the Senator’s son. As if my father, the Senate President, or even the President will let you do that.” You said, heading to the kitchen counter and poured yourself a glass of wine and drink.

“The President is on my side. Actually, two years after saving Ashley, he asked me to marry his daughter.” The revelation made you choke on your drink and cough. You looked at him with ‘what the fuck?’ expression.

Leon chuckled and approached you, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Of course, I declined. I know that marrying the President’s daughter is a big opportunity. But I am not that thirsty for power. Back to my point, I bet your father, the Prime Minister will go on a rampage when he finds out that his only daughter is breaking his rules and having an affair with her bodyguard.”

“Unless…” You paused, looking at Leon. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Unless what, sweetheart?”

“Unless, we’ll give him an heir.” Leon looked at you for a few seconds until he realized what you were talking about. “A heir that will keep and continue the legacy of the family.” You added, taking another sip of your wine.

The man was silent after that. He was thinking how life will change for the both of you when a baby comes into your lives. A baby, whether it was a boy or a girl, will be the successor of the L/n-Kennedy bloodline. The feud will be over once a baby is formed into your womb. You know that your father will never have a heart to demand to abort the child because it’s also his flesh and blood. For your family that came from a wealthy and well-known ancestry, killing a child that was supposed to be the next-in-line of succession is a disgrace and disrespectful act.

“You mean…” Leon muttered, moving closer to you and wrapped his one arm around your shoulders while his other hand went to your lower stomach. “I’ll release my seeds here and put my baby into your womb?” He was grinning which caused you to giggle.

“Want me to make you a daddy?” You asked too. He laughed and pecked your lips.

“Yeah. Let’s start tonight.” He muttered seductively.

—

And there you found yourself in your bedroom. Leon liked how dark your bedroom was. Leon helped you remove your hair accessories and undo your hair. It was wavy and he grabbed your hair brush to run it against your hair. His touch was gentle and he inhaled the scent of your hair, driving him crazy. You chuckled and turned around facing him.

“I hate to admit this but…” You paused, reaching for his vest, unbuckling and removing them before undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I want to become a mommy now. I am already thirty-three and according to my friend, who’s a doctor, I might have some difficulties getting pregnant at this age.”

“I’ve heard about that too. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’ll carry my baby to a healthy and safe pregnancy.” He assures you and you remove his shirt completely, letting it fall to the floor. “But please help yourself as I help you.” He added.

“Of course, I will take care of our baby in my womb until the day has come for him to be delivered.” You smiled, touching his toned chest down to his abs. Leon smiled and kissed your forehead.

“You have been so cold to me ever since I was hired to be your bodyguard and now I’m going to put a baby into your womb. That escalated really quickly.”

“That’s why I hate you.”

Leon tilted his head and kissed your lips. You kissed him back and you felt his hands unzipped your dress before pulling it down until it cools down around your feet, leaving you in your pretty pair of black underwear. His pupils dilated, seeing you almost naked. His eyes were filled with hunger as his gaze trailed down from your face down to your legs.

Your chest is heaving as your heart beats so fast as Leon carries you to the bed. Slowly, Leon crawled on top of you. His lower half is between your thighs while his upper body is hovering on yours. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss. Despite the cool temperature of the room, you both feel hot as the sexual tension gets higher and higher.

“Do you really want me to make you a mommy?” He whispered seductively. You hummed and nodded your head but your response for him wasn't enough. “Words, darling.” He added.

“Want me to beg?” You asked. He growled and grind himself against your clothed core where you can feel the bulge on his pants. “Don’t speak to me like that. Remember, you are not the in-charge here but me.”

His husky voice made you moan. Calloused hands caress your belly as he hummed against your ear with a smirk plastered on his face. “Imagine, after 9 months of pregnancy… you’ll give birth to my baby. They will call you ‘mommy’ and they will call me ‘daddy’.”

You squirmed under his touch and his left hand went south, sneaking inside your panties and touching your dripping pussy. “Leon– kyah!” You squealed as his fingers massaged your pussy lips and gently rubbed your clit. He nibbled your earlobe and he continued touching the wet core.

“Let’s take this off, shall we?” He sat on his knees and hooked his fingers on the garter of your panties before pulling it down. “Ass up.” He ordered and you obliged. He continued pulling down your underwear until it was completely out of your legs.

Leon tossed it to the floor before bending your knees and pushed them apart, exposing your wet pussy. He grinned and touched it with his index finger, humming at how slick and wet you are. “Hear how wet your pussy, darling? I made this mess, didn’t I?” He chuckled.

He gently played with your clit, using your arousal to lubricate your nub. “Such a pretty, tasty-looking pussy. Mind if I have a taste?” And without hesitation, he stuck out his tongue and licked your pussy upwards, causing you to jolt.

“L-Leon…” You muttered. Leon held your thighs apart firmly as he savored your cunt, slurping your juices and teasing your clit with his tongue.

He would hum in satisfaction and delve deeper, burying his face between your thigh as he eats your pussy like it was his last meal before his death sentence. Knowing how sensitive you are, he took that advantage by licking and sucking your clit as he slipped his middle finger into your drooling hole.

“Oh my God! Leon— fuck!” You curse as your chest heaves up and down as you catch your breath. You reached for his hair and gripped on it. Leon looked at you and he felt satisfied, seeing your reaction as you moan.

“Don’t be too— ahh! I’m sensitive.” You babble.

“This will not be the first time we’ll have this kind of fun so better expect me to overstimulate you.” He replied, rubbing your clit with his thumb, sending you pleasure that your legs trembled. You wanted to close your legs as he stimulated your nub while his finger continuously went in and out of your hole.

You arched your back and held onto his arm, digging your nails against his skin. A knot formed in your stomach and felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Leon was smirking, obviously enjoying the sight of you squirming on his touch.

“Cumming, aren’t you, sweetheart? Go ahead. Chase your orgasm, I’ll help you out.”

Leon pulled his finger out of your hole and increased the intensity on your clit, getting you closer to your end. And just when you are about to be released, he stops and pulls away causing you to whine. “Oh, come on!” He chuckled, seeing you close your legs and feel the almost euphoric moment.

“Beg,” He demanded. “I want to see if you truly deserve to cum.”

“Please, daddy! I’ll be good! I promise that I’ll obey and be a good girl to you. Just don’t ruin my orgasm. I-I wanna cum!” You whined, tears filling up your eyes. His cock stiffen in his pants and your beg just snapped at him. So, he started rubbing your clit again with more intensity, bringing you back closely to your orgasm.

“That’s my girl, so very good.” He huskily said, collecting your arousal and used it to lubricate your clit.

“I’m cumming! Leon, I’m cumming!” You moaned loudly as your legs trembled once more. He buried his face between your legs and replaced his thumb with his tongue, sucking and licking your clit that caused you to scream and cum on his mouth.

You closed your trembling legs as he still ate you out. He did not stop enjoying your nectar. It drives him crazy and he craves for more. His cock went even harder in his pants, desperate to be free to feel a mind-blowing experience like his mouth had. Leon remembered that this is not the only exciting moment he will experience tonight. So, he pulled away from your pussy with his lips, chin, and some part of his cheeks are wet due to your juices.

He wiped it off with the back of his hand before unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants before pulling them down with his boxers and removing it completely and tossed it to the floor. You closed your eyes but his hand caressed your thigh.

“Seeing it is included when a couple is about to make love. Whether you like it or not, it’s part of the human body that is going to be exposed with its partner.”

“No, it’s not that.” You replied.

“Then, what do you mean?” He asked.

“It’s just that it's way bigger than I saw before. You were not that big when I saw that accidentally.”

Remembering what you are talking about, he let out a giggle and slapped your thigh playfully. You laughed in return, remembering your funny, embarrassing moment with him back then. It was when you entered the bathroom without knowing that he was inside, taking a bath so yeah. You saw his cock already. He was not that small or not that big. Just average, because he was young at that time as he was still in the police academy.

But right now, kneeling in front of you is the same man you love but now with a huge cock and was going to rail the shit out of you tonight. Thanks to the dark room you guys were in. He’s not able to see the blush forming on your cheeks.

“You know, I find it unfair to be this hard but do not get something from you in return after giving you a satisfying orgasm.” He started. Knowing what he meant, you sat up and kissed his lower stomach just right above his bulbous tip.

“What do you want me to do? Return the favor?” You asked, batting your eyelashes to him with a teasing look. “Well, I don’t mind.” You added.

Leon feels proud seeing you being confident with yourself. You held his huge cock and jerked it, causing him to groan and bite his lip. “Don’t keep me waiting, sweetheart. I am not a patient man.” He muttered. You chuckled and looked at him.

“Chill, darling.” You paused and licked his tip that made him hold his breath as he felt your tongue touch his red tip. “Patience is a virtue.” He growled and opened your mouth before slipping his huge cock into your mouth, letting out a deep moan as he felt the warmth of your mouth.

“Patience, huh? Let’s see if you still could talk back to me.” Then he started thrusting his hips back and forth. Because of his huge size, you struggle to breathe and often choke or gag when his tip reaches the deep portion of your mouth.

Leon waited so long and now his dirty dreams are finally coming true. He moaned in bliss, closing his eyes with his head thrown back in pleasure. “Sweetheart, your mouth feels so good!” He praised, continuously moaning. You held on his thighs to support yourself due to his faster pace.

Leon pulled out of your mouth and jerked his cock that was coated with saliva and arousal while his other hand was gripping on your hair. “Come on, darling. Show me what you got.” He challenged you. You rolled our eyes and scoffed before taking his cock back into your mouth and showing him your ability.

He moaned in satisfaction as you took over the job, proving to him that you’re better than he imagined. Your tongue is having contact with his cock, touching the veins that send him pleasure. You were so beyond his expectations.

“Just like that! Suck my cock and take it like a good girl!” He moaned, throwing his head back. His praises made you even more wet until you felt his cock start to twitch and his body shudder.

“Don’t stop! I’ll cum in your mouth, you hear me? I’ll spill my kids into your mouth first before spilling the others inside your womb.” He moaned and you helped him reach his orgasm by sucking him even better than before.

“Your mouth feels so good, sweetheart! I can’t believe that I am— gonna cum!” He yelled and growled, spilling his hot, slimy essence down to your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh fuck!” He exclaimed in pure bliss and ecstasy. It took him a few minutes to calm himself from a mind-blowing blowjob he experienced.

He was even more impressed when he saw you swallowing his seeds. “So pretty for me…” He whispered and gently pushed you down against the soft mattress and hovered over you. “Are you ready, mommy?” You nodded at his question.

Leon spread your legs open, rubbing your clit in circles with your arousal. “Here I go,” He said before aligning his cock into your aching hole. Your heart was beating in anticipation. Leon held your waist before plunging his tip into you. Your eyes widened and gasped in shock.

“L-Leon!” You whined and Leon grabbed your wrist and put your hand on his shoulder, kissing them.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll be gentle, I promise. Just hold onto me, darling.” He hushed you. The feeling was so overwhelming that you can’t help but sob. “Leon, it hurts!” You whined as he pushed himself deeper, penetrating your walls.

Leon was in bliss and groaned when your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, so tight!” He moaned as he went in deeper with such care. You keep your eyes closed, biting on your left hand while your right hand is holding on his shoulder. “Look at me, Y/n. Come on, baby.” He comforts you.

Through your tears, you looked at him and he leaned down to kiss your lips. “The pain will be gone soon, I promise. Don’t cry, my love. I’m here.” He whispered and kissed you passionately. Soon, the pain was put aside. Leon knows it the way you squirm underneath his touch. Your walls kept clenching around his girth causing him to grunt.

“Fucking hell, pussy’s so tight!” He breathed out. “Are you ready, my love?”

You nodded your head in response. Leon held your waist and slowly moved his hips against your. He was gentle and careful with his movements. This night was supposed to be romantic and filled with pleasure. That's why he’s refraining himself from being rough with you when you’re still in a vulnerable state.

“Oh my God, so huge!” You whined as you felt his huge length being inserted and withdrawn from your pussy. “I did not expect that my virginity would be taken by the same man who hurt me.” Leon scoffed at your comment.

“But the man who hurt you is the one who will give you beautiful children. You still love that man because if you don’t, you wouldn’t let him take you under him and take your virginity.” He seductively whispered to your ear.

Soon, he started to go faster to your comfort. You looked him deeply into the eye as he held your thighs apart and shifted his position, reaching the deeper portion of your pussy. Leon smirked and grabbed your jaw to make you look at him firmly. “Tongue out,” He demanded and you obliged. He sucked your tongue and it turned into a sloppy kiss.

“Faster, please…” You whispered between kisses. Leon stopped for a moment, waiting for you to repeat your request. “I need more!” You whined and he smirked. “You need more? Then, beg for it. You can beg, right? Go ahead.”

“Please, daddy! Go faster, please! I need more of you. Please, I’ll take it like a good girl!”

And that snapped Leon out of his senses. He started to go faster than before, sending you an overwhelming pleasure that caused you to arch your back. “Like this, darling?” Leon growled and you mewled in return.

His tip was hitting on your cervix. Due to his huge length and girth, it feels like he’s splitting you in half. Moans, groans, and skin slappings resonated in the room. Leon was in bliss, shoving his cock in and out of your drooling hole and earning sinful moans from you. This is what he waited and wanted to do for fifteen years…

“Fifteen years, my love…” He muttered as he drilled himself deeper into you. “I waited for fifteen years to have you in my arms again. I fucking love you so much!” He whimpered.

You are holding onto him for your dear life as his movements grew more intense and vigorous. You knew that this will be the last time you’ll have this intercourse with him. Oh, you just know it by just looking at this man who craves you badly. He’s determined to make you pregnant with his child, the key to ending the quarrel of both sides.

“Do you know how lucky you are to be the mother of my child?” He asked as he pulled you closer, hips continuously thrusting and out of you. “Make sure that you are not taking your pills, my darling or else there will be no Little Kennedy in your womb. Understood?”

“Ahhh~! Yes! My God, yes!” You wailed. A knot starts to form in your stomach and your legs tremble in pleasure. Leon knows that you’re close to reaching your orgasm so he puts more pressure by pressing his hand on your lower stomach. “Oh, my! Ahhh!” You cried out and he smirked, seeing you tearing up as he did so. You squirmed under his touch and tended to push him away but he put his weight onto you and held you down with your both legs on his both shoulders as he put you into the mating press.

“Leon, can’t hold it anymore! I need to cum!” You mewled and he groaned when your walls clenched around him. He keeps going until you let out a scream and squirt. Leon pulled out and rubbed your clit with his tip as your juices gushed out of your pussy.

It stopped for a while and Leon pushed his cock back inside you. He made some few thrusts before having you squirt again, wetting his lower abdomen, some parts of his thighs, down to the bed. Leon pulled out and watched you burst out of you and jerked himself.

You helped him off by replacing his hand and gripping on his length, moving your hand up and down as his tip poked in and out of its skin. His cock was twitching and you can tell that he’s about to cum too. “Proceed, my love. Jerk me off. I’ll tell you when I am coming.”

In return, Leon slipped his middle finger and ring finger inside your soppy cunt thrusting them in and out. It makes squelching and wet sounds as he fingered you, touching the spongy spot that caused you to jolt and squeal. You glared at him while holding his wrist with your free hand while continuously jerking him off with the other.

“What? I’m just returning the favor.” He smirked and curled his fingers inside you and hit the right spot that you squirted again on his hand. As releasing your juices, he withdrew his fingers and rubbed your clit again. “Darling, it’s good to keep stimulating your clit. It makes me want you more.”

As revenge, you quickened your jerking pace and he moaned and he held your wrist. Thinking that you are overstimulating him, you smirked but he grabbed your other hand and led it towards down his balls, letting you massage them. He moaned and threw his head back in pleasure. “Keep doing that.” He muttered. Soon, his cock became harder and started twitching. You took this as a sign and you fastened your face.

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh, fuck! Yes!” He growled and removed your hands before slamming his cock back deep into your pussy and his seeds spurted out of his tip, filling you up.

You closed your eyes and let your head down on the pillow as he filled you up. He cums a lot that some of them started flowing out of you. “Fuck, it feels so good…” You breathed out. He chuckled before leaning in and kissed your lips softly before pulling out. He crawled on top of you until his cock was right in front of your face.

“Open up,” He demanded. You opened your mouth and the last drops of his cums landed on your tongue. He squeezed himself and when it was all empty, he tapped the tip against your lips and you sucked it clean.

“That’s my girl.” He said before placing himself between your thighs again.

Leon watches a stream of his cum running out of you. You look so beautiful. He lowered his head between your legs and stuck out his tongue and gave your clit a small kitten licks. Some of his cums that are flowing out of you caught by his tongue and he used it to lubricate your swollen nub.

You closed your eyes and bit your finger while your other hand was gripping on his hair. Your legs were on his shoulder, toes curling in pleasure while your feet rub gently against his back. Leon collected his cum on his fingers and pushed it back inside you and licked you for the last time before pulling away.

“Ready for round 2?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah…”

—

Leon decided to change your positions. You are now on top of him while he is underneath you. Leon held your waist and guided your dripping entrance to his cock. When the tip was plunged inside, you moaned as you sat with his cock sliding inside of you.

“O-ow!” You whined and you felt him reach the deepest part of your pussy.

You looked down and your eyes widened in shock when you saw a bulge formed in your lower stomach. You gasped and touched it with such care. Leon saw this and he couldn't help but grin. “Look at this masterpiece, honey. Feel how deep I reached, sweetheart?”

You put your hands on his chest to support your weight. “I feel numb.” You whispered.

“Aww, come here…” He cooed and wrapped your arms around his waist. He adjusted your position before thrusting his hips up and down inside your pussy.

He doesn't mind if he does all the work. Your eyes are closed and your mouth is hanging open as sinful moans come out of it in every thrust he makes. Leon pistoned his hips and you jolted as his movements became rough and aggressive. Your moans sounds like you're having hiccups due to his fast movements.

“Let me suck those boobs of yours,” He growled and cupped one of your breasts and sucked your nipple. This adds more pleasure to you that you can’t stop moaning and whining. Leon sucked it like a hungry man before sucking the other one.

“Nipples are so soft. Our baby will definitely like it. Oh, I am gonna be so jealous that he gets to be breastfeed by his beautiful mother everyday, having her nipple into his mouth and suck her milk.” He chuckled and kissed your cleavage.

“Your breasts will be even bigger when they start carrying milk for our child. Expect me already that I will fondle and suck them especially when you lactate.”

You moaned even more in overwhelming pleasure. Both of you were still overstimulated earlier that’s why your orgasm builds up quicker than the previous ones. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax as you feel his cock twitch and both of you are trembling.

“Are you ready to become a mommy? Oh, my sweet Y/n… I am going to marry you. I wouldn’t want to give this child a life with unmarried parents. It would be better for him to legitimately carry my name.” He said between moans.

“Fuck, I’m cumming! Cumming!” You cried as your legs trembled and you quiver.

“You’ll be so beautiful, having your belly big and round as my child grows inside. My, my, my, I can’t wait to see our beautiful child together. We’ll welcome him into this world together and we’ll give him the best life away from bioterrorism.”

“Leon, I can’t—” You were interrupted as he kissed you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore so you released your orgasm, your body jolting as you do so. Your walls suffocated his cock inside you and he did not stop.

He kept going and going until he couldn’t hold himself anymore.

“Take it, take it, take it! Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” He moaned loudly and spurted his cum deep inside you. You feel so full and your energy is drained. You collapsed on top of him and caught your breath.

“I love you…” You whispered. Leon heard it and giggled.

“”I love you too…”

—

Leon pulled himself out of you. Like the previous one, you are dripping with his cum. He grabbed his phone and took a photo. You did not complain or remorse. You just let him be. Because the mattress was wet, Leon carried you to the room next to yours. There, you two laid down on the bed. Still naked, but covered in a blanket to keep yourselves warm.

You are looking outside through the window, admiring the city lights. Leon pulled you even closer to him and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes and nuzzled him and pressed your lips together.

“This is not the last time we'll do this, right?” You asked.

“You know, it’s hot and sexy to try in different places.” He replied.

You laughed and poked his nose.

“You naughty daddy…”

— To Be Continued...

443 notes · View notes

zayne-li · 1 month

Text

Cross posted on AO3, may be edited in the future, it was written very shortly after the game actually came out.

Explicit, MDNI.

Zayne gets injured, MC saves him, and Zayne has very normal feelings about it.

Feelings like: femdom, etc.

"Zayne! Zayne! Can you hear me? Come on, get up, you have to get up, we need to go now!"

The world is fuzzy at the edges, and there's a tinny sort of ringing in his ears, but he hears his hunters voice. She's upset. Why?

Arms stronger than they should be tug at the lapels of his white doctors coat, dragging him up off the concrete, and he blinks hard several times. His head is swimming.

Zayne groans, deep and low as his awareness slowly returns, able to blearily look around and recall that right, yes, we were at my favorite sweets shop... And then...

"I know it hurts, Zayne, but I really, really need you to get up right now." That's her voice again, and then he can see her. Right in front of him, holding him halfway off the ground. There's blood smeared across her lips, cheek, and eye, and her hair is ashy with dust, no hint of the real color underneath it all.

It occurs to him that it's concerning he can't recall what exactly has happened. Was it Wanderers? Some sort of accident? A weak cough escapes him as his shoes scrape across the loose pebbles on the road.

Everything hurts. Like one giant bruise all over his body. But he is slowly regaining his senses. He does have at least that.

All around them is destruction: rubble and dust and shouts for loved ones piercing through the fog. The air smells and tastes metallic as his hunter helps him up onto shaky feet, hoisting one of his arms over her shoulder and wrapping the other around his middle.

"Can you walk? We need to get you to Akso now."

Her pupils are blown, and eyes wild. It's a look he hasn't seen on her before. Despite the pain and danger they are in, there is something about her in this very moment(maybe the blood, the adrenaline, this demeanor he's never seen before) that makes his gut clench.

Ought to dissect that later, he thinks. Then again, perhaps not.

"Akso?" His voice is rough, throat sticky with dust.

"Yes, you broke at least two of your ribs in that explosion, you need medical care, do you understand?"

His eyes drop down to hers, and he realizes just how much they are touching in this moment. All the way from their feet to her head, becoming a long line of heat down the right side of his body.

What timing, Doctor Li.

"I understand." He confirms to her, and plants his gaze firmly ahead of them, forcing his attention onto the task at hand rather than the way that look in her eyes makes him feel.

Weeks later he is still recalling that day, though who can blame him, confined to bed rest as he is? Three broken ribs and a full month of leave from the hospital, it's difficult to find ways to entertain himself.

Zayne closes his eyes and he sees her covered in sweat, that single minded determination carving deep lines into her face. If she'd had to, she would have dragged his limp body to the doors of the hospital. It was a look that told him, "I'm not losing you too. Not today." It was that look that had given him the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It aroused him deep in his gut, somewhere he hadn't even known existed.

It was disturbing, in more ways than one.

He'd begun to have dreams.

Dreams of her coming home to his apartment, the door closing with more force than necessary, her dirty boots crossing through the kitchen with purpose. And when she found that purpose, she would have that same look on her face. In some of the dreams she'd still have blood on her face, and she'd lick the droplets away, just as she did while she labored to save his life that day.

She would grab him by the knot of his tie, stifling his surprise with a bruising kiss, plundering his mouth like a woman starved, using her unexpected strength to push him back against the wall, to cover him with her smaller frame. He would moan into her throat and her lips would curve into a smile against his.

One night, he wakes around four in the morning after dreaming of his hunters battle lust and he finds himself in an uncomfortable, sticky mess.

Zayne knows he loves her. He has since he was a boy, that has never changed, but through the years, his crush has waxed and waned, but remained fundamentally childlike. It hasn't been until they reconnected this past year that he'd even begun to let his thoughts drift to more unsavory places. And now... Well he determines that this new... Discovery of his remain well and firmly hidden.

Her presence in his life is too precious to waste with his depraved imagination.

After all, while he's been bored and cooped up in his apartment, with strict instructions from every person in his life to "Sit and rest, for once!" She has been visiting him almost daily. Usually not for long, as her own work keeps her extraordinarily busy(he supposes he's never noticed just how hard and much she works before, because he himself is often entrenched in his own), but always with an easy smile and some sort of treat for him. Chocolate, or cookies, one afternoon a little fruit tart from a vendor she passed on her way to see him.

Most of the time, it is no challenge for him to recognize that her friendship is far, far too valuable to risk losing.

Today, she knocks on his door, and when he opens it, he almost forgets.

She's a mess.

There's a fairly large, but shallow cut across most of her face, from her cheek down to her chin, her hair is pulled up haphazardly, the leather glove she normally wears is missing, and her clothes, though neat, have small tears across one of her knees, and her shoulder.

Zayne swallows before he greets her.

"Difficult day?"

She exhales a chuckle. "Just a long one, sorry. I was going to go home to clean up, but by then it would have been pretty late, and I was already nearby when I finished, so I thought I'd just uh... Drop in."

She's sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, and Zayne forces himself to look away, making eye contact with the corner of the wall instead. There's a chip in the paint.

"Really, you needn't trouble yourself on my behalf, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You require rest as well as I."

What would it feel like, right now, to have her press up against him? Warm. Solid, he thinks. Would she grab him by his jaw? Turn his face this way and that?

He imagines how she would taste. Salty and metallic, he thinks, especially now. His hunter, shoving him onto his back in his bed, she would be impatient, barely taking the time to undo their pants before sheathing herself on his cock, using her palms on his chest for leverage to fuck herself as she pleased.

"Yeah, well then we might as well rest together, huh?"

She pulls him from his depraved thoughts.

Zayne realizes that the heat between his legs, if not controlled soon, will become a much larger problem(no pun intended).

"You have quite the knack for turning phrases, you know." His tone stays even, and he turns away, inviting her inside without another word, his excuse being the television in his living room that needs muting.

"And you never have this much time off. It's kinda fun, really."

He hears the click of the door shutting, and the turn of the lock.

"I brought you something, too."

Thud on the kitchen counter. Whatever it is, it sounds hefty. While he pretends to look for his remote, he adjusts himself in his pants, burning with shame for this predicament.

"What is it this time?"

"Brownies! Salted caramel flavored. They're my favorite."

She appears quite suddenly in the corner of his vision, and he jumps, feeling his face grow hot.

"Thoughtful as always." He smiles, and hits the mute button on another story of wanderer attacks.

His hunter frowns, leaning her body around to get a good look at him.

"Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Her tone leaves no room for arguments, and Zayne's eyes go a bit wide just for a moment.

"What makes you think anything is wrong? Other than my broken ribs?" He doesn't realize it, but he imitates her in the way he tilts his head. The mirth in her eyes makes his chest ache.

"You're blushing, Doctor Zayne." Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth with her smile.

"Perhaps I'm coming down with a fever." He counters.

She squints, but moves away, rolling not just her eyes, but her whole head. "Oooh-kay. Then perhaps I should leave, huh? Keep you from spreading your virus all over Linkon?"

His mouth opens, but he has no immediate response.

"Uh-huh." She oozes with smugness.

God he wants her. Whether in his dreams, or right now, either will do. He's wanted her for so long. And now she's so close. Zayne feels his entire chest go tight with longing. He wants everything with her. For her.

He wants her to be with him always. If he could put a tiny little hunter in his pocket and keep her there he would, just so he could pull her out when he likes to soothe the ache in his soul that she both creates and fills in equal measure.

He wants her just like this, messy and stinking of rain and sweat and blood, he wants her sweetness, her humor, her easy charisma.

And God he wants her to claim him. He wants the battle lust, her fingernails deep in his scalp, the stinging on his back. He wants her to take whatever she likes from him, his body, his soul, his everything.

"I wasn't blushing. You are mistaken." Somehow he keeps his voice even and calm, though inside he fights to keep from pouncing on her.

Down, boy.

Recognition flashes across her face.

And then a flurry of emotions he has trouble naming. Confusion, shock, and something else he can't define, but it reminds him of the day they were in that explosion, and she became someone he didn't know.

His hunter steps forward, further into his space, and on instinct, Zayne steps back, his swallow loud in the quiet apartment.

She must see something on his face. Fear, he thinks. And her expression of bewilderment changes as her gaze flickers rapidly across his features, first his eyes, his mouth, the bob in his throat, the fist clenched at his side, and then back to his mouth.

Her movements are slow as she takes another step forward, as if she's afraid to spook him, like one would a wild animal. She grabs the front of his shirt, and he swallows back a whine.

His hunter sees this too.

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"You frighten me sometimes."

Do I, Doctor Zayne?" Her eyes are dark, and she pulls him down to her, tilting her head just so, and holds him a hairsbreadth away from her lips.

He can taste her breath. It makes his knees weak. God, if you are there, don't wake me from this dream.

#lads zayne #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you

172 notes · View notes

starrystevie · 1 year

Text

it’s a horribly normal sunday afternoon when everything changes between steve and eddie.

they’re in eddie’s van, windows down and hair flying, rays of a new spring sun warming their winter chilled skin as their arms dangle outside the open windows. some band that steve is sure he’s never heard of is playing loudly though the speakers and eddie looks over at steve with a grin.

the sun gives him a halo like it belongs there, the wind in his curls breaking up the beams to make it look like he’s flying, like hermes or apollo or some other greek god steve cant name while he’s enraptured with the view. eddie's smile crooks up, something mischievous, and he reaches down to grab a tape out of his collection.

“you know what we need?” eddie asks and steve holds his tongue to stop from saying something stupid like 'you'.

the music changes and it’s familiar and loud and, oh no. the crooning first notes of 'somebody to love' cuts into his heart in a way he never expected queen to. he feels like he’s bleeding out, watching eddie’s smile shift and change, playful and wide, and it breaks him. his face crumbles and morphs into something mean, trying to protect the remnants of his guard from crumbling along with it like ancient remains.

"turn that shit off." and steve’s always been a bit of a bitch, eager to fight with bared teeth and bleeding knuckles, but it's never been towards eddie. eddie with his halo of sun and eyes full of warmth and that smile that makes steve feel like he can fly. "now."

eddie scrambles. his hand darts out and fiddles with the volume knob, his smile cracking along the edges and getting soft and worried and steve is made only of anger, boiling over in a tirade. he keeps talking, barely processing what he's saying, but he sees it hurt eddie and that feels right and so fucking wrong all at the same time.

"who told you," he seethes out, hisses through his teeth like a goddamn snake. "it's all just a rumor so don't think for one second that it's true-''

the only person steve has even told is robin, one drunken night with their friends jack and captain morgan, secrets spilling out from them faster than they can make a new drink. he let it slip that he likes queen, relates to queen, and robin cocked her head in that sickeningly endearing way she does, cartoon lightbulb clicking on above her head.

"steve," she whispered, hand reaching out to cover his knee. it was a moment of surprising sobriety when their eyes met and steve felt something click into place for him, too.

"it's okay to be like freddie, right?" his voice was soft, broken and strained, watery smile covering up what little vulnerability he had left.

they danced until sunrise with queen blasting through the way too extravagant speaker system in the living room, screaming lyrics about not wanting to be born at all and asking for someone to find them somebody. they fell into a pile all breathless and dizzy and the relief that flooded steve's system was enough that he could drift into a deep sleep for the first time in a long time.

but now that memory feels tainted, destroyed, because he only told robin and that means she must have told eddie about being like freddie because no one else knew and he thought that robin was the one person he could trust but that seems not real anymore but it's robin and that is the only person who has stuck around but now there's eddie in the back of his mind grinning and that bleeds into him laughing which bleeds into him laughing at steve, turning on a song to let him know he's laughing at him for being like freddie, for being wrong, being wrong, being wrong-

"steve..."

"-it's not even true, anyone can like queen without being a fucking queer, you know? plenty of people like them and are happily married with their 2.5 kids and a goddamn picket fence-"

steve's still ranting when eddie pulls to the side of the road, gravel crunching under the tires, eyes soft and careful as they look over steve. his face feels hot and pinched with his vision blurred from unshed tears that he'll be damned to let fall. his hands are flying around aimlessly in the air as he spits out lie after lie, watching eddie sit and take it unflinchingly.

"steve," he says after a minute of listening, a gentle hand on his knee that steve wants to throw off of him, eager for something tangible to destroy. "stop for a second, please."

he wishes he could but his brain won't let him, so he pauses for a second and catches his breath before starting again and ignoring the way eddie rolls his eyes in disappointment. he rants and he vents and hurls harsh word after word until he can see that eddie's had enough. he wants to keep going, yelling until his throat is as raw as his heart feels, but there are arms wrapping around him and holding him intact so he doesn't fall apart all over the floormats.

"you're okay," steve registers what eddie's saying after a beat or two. he's whispering low into his ear in a repetitive mantra, over and over and over. "you're okay, it's okay. breathe."

it's only after they're both breathing normally that he pulls away.

"what was that about," eddie asks, and it's not accusatory but steve can't help but shy away from the easy way he's looking at him. the tears he had been so good about holding back fall down his cheeks, disloyal soldiers admitting defeat.

"i just-," he breathes out as he keeps his eyes trained to the gear shift. "i thought you knew something about... me."

he hears eddie sigh and steve latches onto it like it's a ray of sun in and of itself. "i know a lot of things about you, steve."

"yeah, but you can't know this one. not yet"

there's fingers tangling into his own and they feel nothing like nancy's or robin's or tracy's or melissa's or heather's and he relishes the calluses that bump into his own. steve doesn't want to look up, he can't look up, but he's a vine and eddie's the sun and he has to face him like it's his life's purpose to do so.

the halo is back around eddie's head again when he finally looks.

"i can wait, if you want me to."

#surprise i'm back from my vacay with angsty steve even though i most definitely should be catching up on my work #i can't be blamed or this it's solely because i listened to somebody to love yesterday #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steddie headcanon #my writing #steddie angst #internalized queerphobia

1K notes · View notes

updatingranboo · 10 months

Text

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

#this is how i found out tumblr has a character limit per block #well. have fun reading #i sure did #ranboo #ranboo update #twitter update #ranboosaysstuff tweet

462 notes · View notes

sneakyparsnipslicer · 5 months

Text

A Chance Encounter

[A request from @leathercanuck90, enjoy folks!]

Neil had been on the road for hours. Driving down the motorway returning home from work, the sky was blackened and the rain was chucking it down. It wasn't exactly his ideal weather to be driving in, in fact he was anxious each time a car sped by on another lane.

It had been a rough few months for Neil, work had needed him to stay on for overtime in the office, his wife had divorced him taking the kids with her, his luck was just about running out and sometimes he wished it was all over. But he kept telling himself it had to get better at some point.

Driving on, he checked a sign at the side of the road, about 5 miles to home, and a service station coming up. He considered it for a moment. He did need to piss from all the coffee he'd been drinking on his shift, wouldn't be a bad idea to stop and get something to eat either. He switched on his indicator and moved to the left-most lane, turning onto the road that led to a car park. Neil parked his car and undid his seatbelt, turning the engine off. He sighed and looked ahead. He could see the lights of the garage in the distance. He put on his raincoat and opened his door, being greeted to the cold, wet rain hammering down outside. He shut his car door, locking it and proceeded to hurry over to the building.

Getting inside he lowered his hood and dried his shoes on the mat. Looking around he could see a little cafe with a seating area, nearby toilets, not too many people around. It wasn't too bad, quite charming infact. Neil wanted to have a look at the cafe to see what was available, but then he remembered his bladder was full. He could get some food after.

Hurrying into the men's toilet, he ran over to the urinal closest to the door, unzipped his trousers and began to piss, sighing in relief. He hoped for a moment that nobody had heard him, but there seemed to be nobody else there. He shrugged and continued pissing. A few seconds later he heard footsteps and the door was slammed open. A sweaty-looking man dressed in motorbike leathers burst in panting, spooking Neil. The man looked to see Neil and composed himself, giving Neil a nod and walking over to the urinal next to him.

'Hey, sorry if I frightened you pal. I'm bursting! Bit of a bad night huh?' the man asked, unzipping his trousers and pulling his dick out.

'Oh yeah, it's awful!' said Neil, nervously chuckling. He eyed the man next to him, he seemed to be impressively built and he couldn't help noticing the size of his cock.

'Where you coming in from then?' the biker asked, looking to Neil, who he noticed was looking and began to chuckle. Neil looked to him and read the situation.

'Oh, oh no sorry!' stammered Neil.

'Hey it's alright. Hell, I've got nowhere to be if you've got time' said the biker, winking at him. Neil froze on the spot. Was this man offering himself to him.

'Umm, sorry Sir, I'm not about that life' said Neil, looking away and beginning to zip up his trousers.

'Aww come on buddy, it'd be just us, nobody has to know!' teased the biker, leaning towards him, knocking him playfully on the shoulder. Neil thought about it. It wasn't like he was married anymore, life had been pretty shit lately but this absolute leather stud of a man was offering something he knew he'd always been curious about.

'C'moooon!' whined the biker. Neil looked to the ceiling, shaking his head.

'Fine, why not?' said Neil, flapping his arms in surrender.

'Oh hell yeah!' cried the biker, zipping up his flyers and getting a good look at Neil.

'So, uh. How would we go about this?' asked Neil. The biker approached him, sizing him up.

'Well first' began the biker, lifting Neil up by his armpits and slamming him into the wall, pinning him close to it, giving his neck a good, deep sniff.

'Oh, my…' said Neil in surprise, not expecting such force.

'Mmmm, you smell so good' said the biker seductively, kissing Neil's neck. Neil could feel himself hardening in his pants.

'It's Imperial Leather' Neil chuckled, the biker thrusted his pelvis into Neil causing him to moan out.

'Oh you like leather huh? Guess it's your lucky night!' said the biker smiling, looking at Neil's lips. He moved in and kissed Neil passionately, pushing him even more into the wall.

'God I want to be inside you!' the biker growled, moving his hands to feel Neil's slim frame. Neil thought about it, he'd never actually been fucked in the ass before.

'Does it hurt?' asked Neil absent-mindedly, to which the biker pulled back and looked at him confused.

'I mean does it hurt when a guy's entering your backside? I've always wondered' said Neil. The biker began laughing.

'Oh Honey! You're new to all this huh?' he asked, kissing Neil gently.

'Well I mean this is the first time I've had the chance to have sex with a man' Neil explained. The biker nodded in understanding.

'I see, well from my experience it doesn't. You'll love what I'm gonna do to you. You're a bit of a tight squeeze, but I can work with that' the biker said, reaching around to caress Neil's ass.

'Oh, I see. Well then, should we go somewhere so nobody finds us?' asked Neil. The biker shook his head and turned Neil to face the wall, pinning him to it again.

'Nah, this shouldn't take long' said the biker, massaging Neil's ass, crouching down to undo Neil's belt and pull his trousers and pants down. Neil placed his hands on the wall and looked down as he saw his own dick spring free of it's confines. The biker proceeded to plunge his tongue into Neil's ass hole, making him yelp out in surprise. He could feel it tickling the sides as it explored, lubricating it. It felt amazing. Neil looked to the ceiling, breathing heavily, moaning and panting.

'Alright buddy, going in!' said the biker as he unzipped his own leather trousers and dropped them to his ankles, pulling down his own boxers and placing his dick between Neil's ass cheeks. He started out slow as it slid into the untouched territory. Neil began moaning, slapping his right hand on the wall. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced and he was loving it. The biker began grunting as he began to fuck his way in gradually deeper and deeper. Eventually his whole dick was inside Neil's ass.

'Now here's where the magic happens Baby' whispered the biker, and he placed his hands on Neil's shoulders, which to Neil's astonishment began to sink through his shirt's fabric and merge with his shoulders. He was lost for words, he could only watch as the biker's arms proceeded to slip into his own, taking control of them and giving ownership to the biker. The arms began to feel Neil's body.

'Feels good don't it?' asked the biker. Neil nodded, gasping from the warm, orgasmic sensation he was feeling. The biker rested his chin on Neil's right shoulder and placed the hands against the wall, pressing his chest against Neil's back.

The biker began to move his feet into Neil's legs, starting with his right one, letting it sink in, and then the left one. Neil was beginning to lose all feeling as this new sensation of the biker invading his body overtook him. All responsibilities, all the shit going on in life just didn't matter to him anymore. It was all about this biker now.

The biker began gyrating his hips, sinking further into Neil's body, merging with his ass, back and chest. Then he pushed Neil's head against the wall as he proceeded to merge his head with Neil's. Eventually the biker was fully inside Neil's body and grabbed his new dick, pumping several loads of cum out, alongside all of Neil's memories, anxiety and sorrows. He stood there a new man with a mix of Neil's clothes and the biker's leathers. He began to chuckle.

'Well, Mr. Neil that was glorious, but I think I'm gonna go by Larry now' said the man, removing his clothing. He felt everything, his new ass, his dick, he checked himself out in the mirror. A lot of Neil's face had been kept.

'Oh Honey we're looking cute as fuck now!' Larry chuckled, flexing and admiring his own muscles. He put on the biker's leathers, leaving Neil's clothes behind and walked out of the toilets, he took a nose ring out of his pocket and clipped it on and headed back to the car park. It was still raining outside, but that wasn't a problem. He sauntered over to his motorbike and began to rev the engine.

'Mmmm, yeah. Hear that baby purr!' whispered Larry. Putting on his helmet and speeding off into the night.

#straight to gay #gay #leather #biker #male tf #male transformation #merging #possession

195 notes · View notes

hannie-dul-set · 6 months

Text

the psychology of strawberries — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. besides being your friend, kim gyuvin also holds the existence of being the worst matchmaker in history. the last guy he set you up with ended with a permanent ban from the arcade. the one before that caused you to file a restraining order. which is why when he tries to set you up one last time with his best friend, you understandably shut him down.

the problem is— why the fuck didn’t gyuvin tell you that his best friend is actually the prettiest man in the world? the most charming idiot to have graced your mortal existence? maybe if he did, you wouldn’t have to resort to pavlovian tactics and strawberries just to bag him. if he did, then you wouldn’t have to hide the fact that you’re kind of balls-deep in love with his friend.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, (anti) matchmaking! au, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual secret relationship. romance, humor, fluff, older! reader, black haired ricky jumpscare later in the fic, this is just lovelicky propaganda. sue me. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mentions of sex, an almost car crash, stalking (not from any of the mcs), erratic and embarrasing behavior (mostly from our mc), may add more as i continue. WORD COUNT. preview: 1.6k | full fic: 15-17k.

RELEASE DATE. within december. TAGLIST. send me an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. this is an amalgamation of a number ricky drabble ideas, stitched together into one cohesive mess. yes, i know i've been releasing too many fic previews. yes, you have doubts about me finishing them all. but will release all three fics within this month even if it kills me. enjoy this preview of mc losing her mind over ricky shen (that's how the rest of this fic will also go).

preview under the cut.

“Morning.”

Gyuvin greets you with a yawn and a heavy ruffle on the top of your head, to which you respond with a side kick to his ass when he walks past you. “You’re late,” you scold him, and though you want to continue berating your dear friend, two more familiar-looking people emerge from his building’s entrance.

“Oh, this is Taerae and Matthew,” Gyuvin informs you offhandedly. The two give you a mix of polite nods and smiles. You sort of know Taerae because you shared a class with him last semester. Matthew is just the guy you see at the campus coffee shop at least once a week. “They’re going to be my survey assistants. More people means more ground to cover at once.”

“How’d he scam you two into agreeing?” you ask.

“He’s buying me lunch for a week,” Taerae replies.

“I just wanted to go on a road trip,” Mathew says in a tone too bright for five in the morning.

You let out a huff of air. Your backpack is getting a little heavy on your shoulders, and all you want is to finally reclaim your lost weekend. Meaning, getting on the road as soon as possibly is priority number one. “So, are we commuting?” you ask. “We should get going then.”

“Oh, no,” Gyuvin replies. He’s already noticed your impatience, and has found himself standing behind you, taking your bag off of your bag so that you don’t snap at him for the next statement he’s about to say. “Actually, we’re waiting for one more per—”

A car horn cuts him off.

“Well, nevermind. He’s here.”

At that moment, a way too expensive looking car drives up to the porch of Gyuvin’s college-level priced apartment building. This is looking way too out of place. Matthew lets out a whistle when the car stops in front of you. “This kid just got his license exchange and the first thing he does is show off,” Taerae snorts. What...what does he mean? Is this your ride? Is this the (at least seventy-thousand-dollar) vehicle that’ll be driving you all the way to the outskirts of Hadong County?

The variables don’t click, but your surprise doesn’t end there. Because the person that emerges from the expensive looking ass car’s driver’s seat is— by far— the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your twenty-one years of life.

Whoa.

Not even those thick, dark shades can obscure that god-sculpted looking face. They only make his nose bridge look even sharper, and you’re trying your damn best not to stare at those full and cherry-painted lips. Holy shit. Platinum blonde has always looked tacky to you, but now you have to re-evaluate. Oh my god. Kim Gyuvin has a friend that looks like this, and all he’s done is set you up with guys that can’t even fucking compare.

Walking statue of a man closes the car door behind him with a click. “Get in,” he says. Holy mother of god, you’re light-headed. Your brain is fuzzy. You’re about to pass out.

“Ricky! You’re late! How dare you keep the madam waiting?!”

Things start happening a little too quickly.

Wait a second—

“Shotgun!”

That name.

“Fuck off! Let’s play for the seat!”

Sounds Very.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! Rock, paper, scissors—”

Very—

“Paper, scissors— shoot!”

—familiar.

“Dammit,” Matthew grumbles in defeat, joining Taerae in the backseat. You stare at the fist you have held out since earlier. Rock. Rick. Ricky. This guy’s name is Ricky. Isn’t that also the name of Gyuvin’s best friend? The best friend he was trying to set you up with? This is Ricky? This absolute god of a fucking man who’s looking at you with an ounce of confusion, still holding your fist up after somehow winning all rounds of rock, paper, scissors with nothing but a rock, is the Ricky you turned down a date with?

You were correct to assume that his name gives off fuckboy vibes. The problem is, he looks like a really, really hot fuckboy who you don’t mind ruining your life in exchange for three months of fun. Shit. You think you just made eye contact with him through his thick-ass sunglasses. He nods a little with a small, awkward smile before disappearing back into the driver’s seat.

Fuck. He knows. He definitely knows you wrongfully rejected his ass without even meeting him. Gyuvin, that snitching son of a bitch.

“Hey.”

With a heavy grip on his shoulder, you stop the said snitching son of a bitch before he can escape into the backseat. “What?” Gyuvin raises a brow. The audacity of this guy.

“What was your best friend’s name again?”

“Ricky Shen. Shen Quanrui. Shim Cheonye. Pick one.”

“Is that...the same…?”

“Yes, that guy is Ricky.” There’s an impatient honk from the car. You pay no mind, more concerned about the absolute fucking catch you totally drove away, and that regret is seeping through you expression, failing to wiggle out from Gyuvin’s notice. “Why do you ask?” Are you regretting turning down my offer last week? his face seems to say. You want to hit him. Yes, you are fucking regretting it, but there’s no way in hell you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing.

“It’s just a little awkward,” you say. “Can you switch with me?”

“Matt hyung’s gonna throw a fit if I take your seat,” he simply hums, opening the door to the front seat on your behalf with a courteous bow that drives you further into annoyance. “Now hop in. We’re already behind schedule.”

You’re the bigger person here so you decide against throwing a tantrum. Begrudgingly, you enter the passenger’s seat, trying to ignore aphrodite’s reincarnation sitting right next to you, and prepare yourself for the three-hour drive or torture because you totally screwed over your chance of having him.

“Woohoo! Road trip!”

“We’re here for my project, idiot.”

“Please tone it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s fine, you cross your arms, wiggling uncomfortably on the soft seat. It’s totally fine. None of Gyuvin’s friends have been decent so far. Yes. You shouldn’t judge positively too quickly. Maybe the only thing this one has going for him is his face. Maybe his personality is just as shitty as the last ones and you’ve completely dodged a bullet.

A very pretty bullet. The pretty bullet is looking at you through the rearview mirror. Oh god, why is he looking at you? He’s got his sunglasses down and those eyes are practically staring into your soul.

“Um,” Ricky clears his throat. “You should put on your seatbelt.”

That rasp shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Fuck. This man is a walking heart hazard. “O—oh, sorry!” You’re stupid. Your brain is fried. You fumble with the dumb seatbelt, forgetting how it works, and mentally swearing at yourself in the process.

“Do you need any help…?”

Fight or flight instincts kick in. You smack away Ricky’s attempt at a helping hand. His eyes are wide in shock. Your eyes are wide in shock. You want to throw yourself out of this vehicle right now. “It’s—it’s fine!” Finally, you manage to put on the seatbelt. Ricky is a mix of confusion and offense when he starts the car, more on confusion, but that’s alright. The aftermath of him pulling a k-drama move and helping you with the seatbelt would have been worse. You would have disintegrated right then and there.

Your only source of comfort is the backpack that you’re hugging for your dear life. The entire ride is excruciatingly awkward because the three boys at the back have fallen asleep— a state you also wish to be in right now, but that’s quite frankly impossible because you’re a million times more conscious about your physical appearance right now with a literal angel next to you.

He’s not asking why you’re pressed so far up against the door. For safety reasons, you tell yourself. The air around him just subconsciously feels a lot hotter despite the air conditioning literally blowing cold air to your face.

“Would...would you like some?”

But that doesn’t mean you could stomach this awkwardness, either. Two hours have passed and neither of you have said a word to each other. You’re a fistful into your candy stash and it feels rude not to offer anything to him when he’s been driving for so long.

You have a cautious arm outstretched, a pink wrapper dangling between your thumb and index finger. Ricky peers down for a split second, a rumble from his throat before saying, “N—no, it’s okay.” The candy disappears into the crevices of his car. You dip your head down, trying to feel around for it, and Ricky continues talking. “Um. I mean. You don’t really have to force yourself to get along with me, seonbae. I already know that you don’t really like me.”

At that moment, you snap your head up. “What?”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful because you scare the shit out of Ricky and the car swerves off the lane.

Screech!

“Ah,” he exhales, parking the car at the edge of the road after nearly killing you all. “That was close.” How the three kids in the back are still asleep is beyond you. They’ve got their necks twisted in all the weird places and you’re pretty sure Matthew is drooling.

But the source of your adrenaline right now isn’t the near death experience.

“What do you mean you know that I don’t like you?”

Translation: what exactly did Kim Gyuvin say to this guy?

the psychology of strawberries. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #shen ricky x reader #zb1 ricky x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #shen quanrui x reader #ricky shen imagines #zb1 ricky imagines #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone fluff #ricky shen x reader #zb1 x you #zb1 scenarios

264 notes · View notes

a-little-unsteddie · 4 months

Text

stuck in your throat || 2.3

2.1 || 2.2 || [here] || 2.4

in todays part: what did chrissy mean by multiple options? is eddie still gonna be standoffish? we’ll see! :D i hope y’all enjoy this part :)

ignore how uhh unrealistic this is lmao it’s very handwavy about pretty much everything <3

About a week later, just a few days before they were set to leave, Steve and Robin pulled into the address that Chrissy had given them. He was surprised to see that it appeared to be a Universal Home and RV lot. He spotted Chrissy and Eddie standing at the entrance of the building, so pulled up next to the car that was parked near by, having seen Eddie get into it during the in-person ‘interview’.

"Hey, guys!" Chrissy greeted cheerfully. Her warm, summer scent immediately let Steve know she was an omega, which he somehow hadn't known before. He wasn't really surprised, if he was honest.

"Hi Chrissy! Eddie," Steve responded, with a slight nod and shy smile to the alpha.

To his surprise, Eddie smiled warmly and greeted him, “Hey, Steve.”

"And you must be Robin," Chrissy said, reaching a hand out to shake the trembling alpha's.

Steve glanced at Robin to gauge her reaction and grinned at the enamored look she had on her face. He nudged her gently, startling her out of it.

“Oh- um- yes! That’s me! Robin! It is so nice to meet you in person, Chrissy,” Robin reciprocated the handshake. Steve noticed she looked like she was about to go on one of her rambles and decided to spare her the mortification. While Steve, and he doubted anyone else, didn’t mind it, he knew that Robin hated when she couldn’t stop talking.

Steve thought it added to her charm.

Robin thought he was full of shit.

“I can’t help but notice we’re at a dealership,” Steve said, interrupting whatever nonsense was about to cone out of Robin’s mouth. She shot him a grateful look, to which he returned a smile.

“Yes! So, as we discussed, we—Hell’s Fire Records—are responsible for your traveling expenses,” she explained with an easy grin. “The best way to do that, we figured, was to get you your own transportation. And because you two already live together, we figured we could do two birds with one stone and get you guys an RV.”

Steve and Robin stared at the other two in shocked silence, mouths open.

Steve was the first to recover, “You- that’s not- we can’t just accept an entire RV,” he breathed, shaking his head.

Eddie tilted his head with a small grin, “It’s part of the contract you signed.” he explained, “both of you did.” he added with a nod towards Robin.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he'd only had Robin give it a once over. She had said everything looked fine. He supposed, this was probably ‘fine’ in her opinion.

“When it said ‘all travel and accommodations expenses paid’, I expected like, gas reimbursement, or paying for hotel rooms,” Steve exclaimed in distress, “not, fuckin’, an entire RV?”

“Oh, that’s also included,” Chrissy cheerfully explained, as if this was normal and not at all insane. Steve let out a noise that was definitely embarrassing for him to have made, but he couldn’t hold it in.

Eddie’s face softened at the sound, “Steve, we want you guys to be comfortable on the road, and you need space to teach Elodie in.”

Robin seemed to snap out of the reverie she had fallen into just then, “I mean,” she started hesitantly, turning to Steve, “they’re not wrong.”

“What?” Steve asked, turning to her in shock.

“I did see something like this in the contract,” she admitted sheepishly, “I just didn’t think that it would be an RV they bought for us. But it makes sense, because you can use part of the RV for a little classroom.”

Steve brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart.

“Okay. Alright, fine. I guess,” he huffed, still not exactly happy with the information.

“Great!” Chrissy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She turned towards the building and signaled to someone, which led to someone immediately appearing by their group.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington and Ms. Buckley, lovely to meet you,” the man said, smiling warmly. “My name is Winston Graves, but you may call me Winston. Ms. Cunningham told us a little about what we’re looking for and I chose three RVs for us to view today..”

Then the man was off, leading the group towards the center of the lot. Steve followed reluctantly and listened intently at the description of each of the RVs that Winston had chosen.

One had a bed on top of the drivers seat and a small bedroom at the back of the RV, with a living and a kitchen space between them, as well as a tiny bathroom between the kitchen and the back bedroom.

The second just had two twin beds in the same room at the back of the RV, and the last one was similar in layout, just a bit bigger in size.

Steve was torn between choosing one of the cheaper options—the last two described—or choosing the option that was better for what he needed to do while traveling, but was more expensive. He and Robin discussed it quietly, just out of ear shot of both Chrissy and Eddie.

“It’s more money, Robs,” he seethed quietly.

“You need enough room for a mini classroom,” Robin hissed back with a frown. “Besides, either way, we don’t owe them anything out of this. They’re buying it for us. It’s basically already paid for.”

Steve crossed his arms with a scowl. “You know I hate taking handouts,” he muttered, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

His family was rich, but even before he had been disowned because of his secondary gender, his family was weird about money. They often would buy him something and then expect something in return. For his sixteenth birthday, his biological father had bought him a car. Then, after, lorded it over him to be taken away if he didn’t do exactly what they wanted.

Not that Steve had been able to keep the car after his presentation. He hadn’t. His father had it towed and then probably sold it after.

To say he didn’t enjoy when people bought things for him was an understatement. He felt he had to prove himself to earn it.

“It’s literally part of the contract. Legally, they have to buy this for us,” Robin reminded gently, trying to control her scent to soothe Steve easier.

Steve’s nostrils flared as he scented her and he let out a sigh, “Fine. I think we should choose the first one.” he grumpily admitted.

Robin grinned, “Was that so hard?” she teased with no heat, leading them back to the others to share their decision.

“I’m glad you chose that one,” Eddie said, giving Steve a significant look, as if he knew exactly how their conversation had gone.

Steve smiled tensely and shrugged helplessly. “I needed to chose what would be best for Elodie,” he claimed. It was true, but that didn’t mean he had to like the decision.

“Alrighty!” Winston said enthusiastically, probably because he was about to make good commission, which Steve couldn’t fault the man for. He couldn’t tell what his designation was, likely due to some business mandated scent blockers, but Steve guessed he was either a beta or an alpha, based on how he held himself. Everyone was led into the building, and while Steve and Robin had to sign papers, Chrissy and Eddie were taking care of the payment. Steve felt a bit sick looking at the amount of money that was being spent and tried to remind himself that it was for Elodie.

Once they were done, Steve and Robin waited for the other two to finish doing the payment. The look on the employees face was pure joy, and while Steve wasn’t sure if he got more commission when someone paid in full, he was sure that it definitely didn’t hurt.

“At least we can bring more stuff now,” Robin said quietly beside him. Steve tore his gaze away from the others and looked at her.

“That’s true,” he hummed, tapping his fingers restlessly against the opposite bicep. “We’ll probably be able to drive it to our apartment so packing is easier.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that. Does that mean I get to drive?” Robin asked excitedly. While Steve was the primary driver—when they did drive—Robin had her license.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, rolling his eyes afterwards.

“Fuck yeah,” Robin cheered quietly.

“Alright, here are the two sets of keys,” Eddie said, holding his hands out to each of them. Steve startled and gripped his chest with a gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, relaxing as he reached out and grabbed the keys, “you startled me.”

“Just ‘Eddie’, actually,” the alpha teased with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks turned pink, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically with a huff.

The four of them walked out of the dealership together. Someone must have pulled the RV around front while they had filled out the paperwork and paid, as it was parked next to the cars. Steve let himself be a little excited about the prospect of having an RV—it was one of his dream vehicles, even as a pup. He dreamt of having a family he traveled with. His heart sank, but he shook off the feeling, refusing to feel worse about getting the RV than he already felt.

if you want to be added to the taglist, verify your age either in the request or have it listed clearly in your bio. (18+)

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners @y4r3luv @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #steve x eddie #steddie #eventual steddie #tw omegaverse #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #omega!chrissy #alpha!robin #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤#unsteddie writing

129 notes · View notes

520cafe · 8 months

Text

sour grapes. secret love song

“thank you star rail academy!”

serval’s distinctive and booming voice was enough to send the crowd roaring into cheers and praises of excitement, including you. blade playfully shook his head at you but, he was content with seeing you in such a beaming state.

“for this next song, it’s a little different from our usual songs.” serval continued speaking into the microphone, building up anticipation as she introduced the next song “it’s one that is melancholic, heartbreaking and tearful but, it is also full of hope and romance! us, mechanical fever, worked especially hard on this one so enjoy this song as much to your heart’s content!”

that’s strange, very strange. mechanical fever were famously known for their hype, loud and rebellious-themed songs that had their own unique colour to them, so this sudden break from the usual tone of song was quite strange.

though, it was exciting but also nerving to find out what exactly serval meant when this next song has underlying themes of romance to them. you wondered what exactly prompted mechanical to write a song like this, was it perhaps from personal experience? or maybe something more? something that they witnessed themselves?

the song begins with a soft guitar melody played by serval which was able to immerse the crowd into this melancholic feeling, including you. you couldn’t help but to glance at blade in this moment, he looked relaxed as he stared the stage which made you feel relieved.

before you know it, serval’s vocals were now filling the stage. again, that same strange feeling was beginning to swell deeper inside your heart.

the drеams that we have wished for together are lighting the sky.

for some reason, those lyrics sounded way too familiar for your liking and it almost resonated with you; this should only be just another generic love song. so why is it that you are associating every lyric with dan heng?

he was the one that hurt you, he was the one that broke up with you and he was the one who left you in shambles. and here you are, thinking about him as the song continued. thinking back to how he has treated you recently these past couple of weeks only has your heart pounding as if it’ll explode at any second.

someday, our night will all pass.

while listening to this with a heavy heart, you once again looked at blade for his reaction. however, you were only surprised once more when you caught him staring at you.

even when you did catch him, he seemed to not care. if anything, this only caused him to admire you even further as if you would disappear from his sight if he removed his eyes from you for even a split second.

even if the road is long, let’s continue to hold our hands tight together.

you couldn’t help it, your mind was just filled with fairy-tale images of you and dan heng together that were visually recreating the lyrics. buried deep down in the depths of your mind was a shunned feeling of yearning, your short-term relationship with dan heng was only temporary yet felt magical.

if you were thinking about dan heng as mechanical fever sang this song, what was blade thinking about when he has that gentle look on his face?

someday when we look at each other, we will put on a smile. so, let’s wait for that day.

that’s it, you couldn’t fight back this feeling anymore: your mind, thoughts and heart were all full of dan heng and dan heng only.

“[name].”

your thoughts were interrupted by blade’s deep, monotonous yet warm voice. even when you turned around to face him, that same look of tenderness hasn’t left his face whatsoever. yet, in your eyes, all you saw in that moment was dan heng.

everything reminded you of dan heng.

“blade.. what are you thinking about?”

“… i’m thinking about you.”

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 24 secret love song

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : just smile and wave y’all. the lyrics i used was actually from SOMEDAY by IZ*ONE (i highly recommend listening to it btw, especially while reading this hehe) hope you all have a good day/night/evening and enjoy this chapter <3

━━ TAGLIST (closed) @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @bladesdarling @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

#🍇 ━━ SOUR GRAPES !#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #honkai star rail smau #hsr smau #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

241 notes · View notes

hwanchaesong · 19 days

Text

↗🏢 Entering 4th floor: Of all the roads you took, it all led to him. So get lost in his soul as he eats you inside and out to fill in his hunger. 🌌

🎧: Chase Atlantic - Moonlight

wc: 885

genre & warnings: fluff, slight angst, forbidden love au, poor reader x noble tae, confession, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Paradise Hotel series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"A very good evening to you, my lord." you bowed respectfully at the man, making him chuckle at you.

"Good evening to you too, Y/N. Must I remind you again about formalities?" he replies, arms wide open whilst he turns around to fully face you.

"No, Taehyun. I believe I still have the recollection about the said formalities." you return his smile, standing up to your full height and entering the embrace he's pulling you in.

"Good, and you're late." he murmurs against the crown of your head and you couldn't help but pout.

"The chores kept me like shackles in that damned villa." you complain, detaching yourself from him and straightening your sleeping attire.

Your eyes scanned the person in front of you who seems to be deep in thought.

"Taehyun, are you all right?" you asked, putting a hand on his left shoulder to catch his attention, to which you are successful.

"Apologies." he lets out a little giggle, one that you found adorable. His hand then grasps yours, tugging you in the opposite direction of what is supposed to be your usual spot for rendezvous.

"Where are we heading?" it was an endless inquiry on your side but you couldn't help it. The man, Kang Taehyun, is full of surprises. One that you wouldn't expect out of a noble.

You accidentally discovered him in the forests when you went out after your duties, fully intent on enjoying the company of the trees and flowers. Then you stumbled upon him, picking up mushrooms and was about to eat a poisonous Amanita.

It was safe to say that you educated him about nature, in which he was thankful for. He is not dumb per se, but he is a curious being.

He wanted to test out what would happen if he eats a poisonous mushroom. He read something about it in a book and was about to try it out. Thank god you were there to stop him or else he would've ascended to heaven right then and there.

That is when the two of you started a beautiful friendship, pillared by your love for knowledge and nature.

The difference in status is not a hindrance, as he did not care about it.

He did not mind that you are a mere maid in a nearby distinguished family, and frankly, you also did not care that he is the heir of one of the great families.

Truly, a magnificent pair that would be looked down upon by the society, but the two people involved did not dare to cut the connection.

Simply because of sentiments that are yet to be revealed.

"I have gone weary of the meadows." Taehyun answered you, still trudging on the surfeit of trees, shrubs and grass, "I think it is time for a new scenery, is it not?"

"My L- Taehyun." you corrected yourself when he threw you a nasty look when you called him by title, "May I know what kind of scenery you are pertaining to?"

"You will know soon enough." he laughs when you jut your lower lip in response to his vague reply, a charming pout on your face and he has this urge to kiss it away, but held himself back for the meantime.

After a few minutes of walking around the dim forest, illuminated by the glow of the moon and stars, you finally arrived in the fields. Then, Taehyun guided you towards some thick bushes, and alas! A gorgeous view was revealed.

Who knew that lies beyond these meadows and forests is a cerulean ocean, ready to be sailed and explored.

"My word.." you trailed off, in awe of the beauty of mother nature.

The white sands seem to sparkle at night, the light of the moon reflects on the clear waters of the sea, and the milky way combs through the inky skies.

You can't help but admire the landscape, "This is gorgeous."

You failed to notice how your companion's eyes never left your astonished figure, silently agreeing with your statement yet for him, the compliment is more directed at you.

You look at your sandal clad feet, then in pure impulse, you remove your footwear, toes digging in the sand and you make a run towards the water.

You paid no heed to Taehyun's shouts, instead relishing in the fresh breeze of the ocean, soaking in the salty water and not minding how it seeps into your nightgown.

"Woah there!" Taehyun laughs, finally catching up to you, and he thinks that it's the perfect time to say what he's been meaning to tell you for a while now.

"Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal." he speaks and you turn to him, confusion written over your face.

"Proposal? Surely not marriage, right?" you joked, and it kind of hurt you when he shook his head, but then your heart raced when his next sentence reached your ears.

"No, not marriage. At least, not yet." he holds your hand in his, grasping it tightly like he's scared that if it's loose, then you will slip away from him.

"Taehyun, what do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I want this place to be the spot for our tryst."

Ah, seriously, who are you to say no to your soon-to-be lover?

taglist:

@hyunjinheartbreakprince @lun4kazumii @once27 @purrplegyuu @yawnzsof @baeksofty @shakalakaboomboo @eclipse-777

63 notes · View notes

oneshotnewbie · 7 months

Note

Thanos throws Reader into a very cold lake. Yelena gets her out but she is freezing and hypothermia and even after Yelena and Wanda care for her after and make her a hot tea, soup, cuddle her in warm blankets etc. she is shivering.

ᕚ---ᕘ

You did not know what was happening to you when you were blown up with full force. Looking at the several meters below you, which lifted you from the ground, you had already mentally prepared yourself for death and declared your life as an Avenger to be over; no one could survive such an impact.

Your eyes shut tight, you hoped for a quick death without having to suffer. To your surprise, it was ice-cold wetness that took over you and swallowed you whole instead of the hard dirt road covered in snow. A shrill scream from Wanda, as you found yourself in free fall, was the last thing you heard before breaking through the thin ice.

Disorientated, you spent those first seconds desperately trying not to gasp as the water soaked your whole body. But the pain that ate through each of your limbs like individual needles made you do just that and the cold wet pierced your lungs before you had bitten through the deep.

The water hit your face, the cold shooting through you like a thousand tiny lightning bolts. Pain filled your body, hoping to scream and fight through. But your screams are lost in the gurgling of your lungs filling with water, your throat constricting.

The lake was hollow and had a complex depth, but you still managed to fight your way up and bring your head to the surface, where Yelena was already standing knee-deep in it, reaching out to you with a hand. With the last energy in your body, you swam onto the sandbank and the blonde pulled you the last few meters away from the water with all her strength. "Are you all right?"

With chattering teeth and lilac lips, you nodded carefully and wrapped your arms around your torso. Your fingers were stiff from the short dive and you could hardly open or close them. "I am so cold," you stuttered and watched as the red-haired witch took advantage of the distraction to decisively unleashed her magic on the mighty Titan, spurred on by the attack on you.

The warlord responsible for your fall was flooded with the red threads of her magic, slowly but surely freeing him from his armor. The look on Thanos' face as he floated into the sky was one of shock and you knew he was not enjoying his luck for long. He shattered into fine particles that swirled through the air in the icy winter wind. The Avengers, however, knew that he was far from defeated. They had all only weakened him, but by no means defeated him.

Wanda Maximoff rushed forward and dropped to her knees in front of you. "I got you," her hands rested on your shoulders, hastily rubbing your upper arms to add a touch of warmth to your freezing body. "We need to get you somewhere warm, let´s go." she whispered, still out of breath from the fight. The redhead pulled you up, grabbing you by the already crystallizing, wet sleeves and right against her, supporting you as you walked to the Helicarrier.

You were puffing hard, shaking against her chest and she pulled you impossibly closer to her, focusing on getting you to headquarters as quickly as possible to protect you from further hypothermia and the fatal consequences that would ensue. Wanda could tell you were still conscious but did not think you would remain for much longer.

When you arrived at headquarters, you lay unconscious in her arms, a warm blanket draped over your flushed body that was still shaking. "We need to warm her up slowly. Wanda, you have to get friendly with her." Tony ordered and the witch looked at him questioningly as she carried you through the hallways of the headquarters. "Warm her up with your own body heat. Embrace her, keep her close to you until she is conscious and change her wet clothes."

She nodded hastily, carefully bringing you in her own room and laying you down on her bed. Stripping off her equally wet clothes, she squeezed into her pajamas and did what she was told without question. The redhead shuffled closer to you, slipping her arm around your shoulder and carefully pulled her blanket up to your nose.

"Come on, sweetheart. Wake up," mumbled Wanda and placed her other hand on your stomach, the trembling lessening under her touch, your skin still cold and covered in goosebumps. Watching you being thrown away and disappear out of her sight was horrific. One minute you had been soundly fighting next to her, the next she was watching you fight for survival.

She hated the feeling that was building up inside her. Guilt for not protecting you enough, unsure how you were feeling and whether you would be okay or not. Wanda was afraid, she did not want to lose you.

The door opened with a bang and made the redhead flinch. Her eyes darted to the door and she smiled when it revealed none other than the blonde who stormed into the room with an entire tablet in her hands. "I have three different types of hot tea, a hot water bottle and lots of blankets. Soup is on the stove and boiling."

"Thanks, Yel."

"How is she doing?" she asked at the same time and sat down at the end of the wide bed. Her hand slid over your covered lower legs, caressing them anxiously. During their conversation, they did not even notice that you had opened your eyes a crack. You did not know where you were, nor why you felt so heavy. You were cold, but you tried to push at whatever or whoever was holding you back did not seemed to work. You had no strength.

In the distance, you heard female voices speaking, using your name in almost every sentence. "Where am I?" you asked, trying to get up. But Wanda held you tightly in her grasp, her fingers placed under your chin so you could look up at her. “Y/n, you are safe. You are in my bed.” shushed the witch, looking at you with concern.

Your eyelids fluttered open and you managed to keep your eyes fully open. Yelena and Wanda could tell that you were still unfocused, your body starting to shake harder again. "Give me another blanket, Yelena," the woman had stood up, pulling a blanket from the stack and held it out to her, who took it and nodded a thanks.

Swiftly, she pushed you up straighter and swung it around your still shivering form as the blonde poured a cup of tea and held it in front of you. You gratefully accepted it, held the cup tightly in your hand and closed your eyes to let the warmth penetrate deeper into your body. "I am sorry," you said quietly, the shivering making your voice shake.

"What for?" The two of them asked at the same time and Yelena helped you bring the edge of the cup to your lips to drink. You groaned as the warm water poured down your esophagus, warming you from the inside while resting your head on Wanda's shoulder. "Causing you problems. I could have died."

"You did not fall into the lake on purpose." pointed the blonde out and you managed to smile tiredly, placed the cup on the small bedside table and devoted yourself entirely to the redhead. Your arms wrapped around her middle while your head made itself comfortable on her chest. "Besides, you are destined to die on the battlefield as any good soldier should, not drowning in a sea."

150 notes · View notes

highvern · 4 months

Text

Track 12: Wildflower - 5 Seconds of Summer

‘’I see the color in your veins // It makes me smile, it makes me shake’’

Pairing: Chwe Hanson (Vernon) x reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: stoner!vernon, camboy!vernon, camgirl!reader, stoner!reader, exhibitionism, mentions of facials and fingering, non-idol au

Length: ~600

Note: paying homage to my namesake

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

User: chewmeup is live with tastelikehoney !

The swirl of red and purple lights illuminates your scantily clad figure, shivering slightly in your boyfriend's hold as you watch viewers pour into the chat. Several you recognize as frequent flyers, but a few new names pop up here and there. Since you started streaming as a couple, both your accounts witnessed a rapid increase of subscribers.

“Hi guys.” You smile, fanning the smoke away from your face as Vernon exhales before passing the bong to you.

Taking a deep inhale, you read some of the comments while gently combing through your boyfriend's hair.

MILFMAKERGYU: hey pretty girl ;)

420jun: mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry

You roll your eyes at the usual antics. Vernon remains silent behind you, reading comments as you plant languid pecks across his cheeks and chin. Something about the camera and the intoxicating smoke filling your veins made you extra touchy, desperate to feel everything the man beneath you had to offer.

hwasaJA: oooo is that a new set?

Vernon uses his nose to nudge you away and towards the computer screen, one of his hands settling on the back of your neck and allowing his thumb to stroke below your ear.

“It is!” You smile. “Do you guys like it? Someone sent it to our P.O. box last week.”

MILFMAKERGYU tipped $250

i.m.whatiam: ur welcome :)

Boowho donated $100

Boowho: lets get this show on the road

“Someone’s eager,” Vernon tsks.

Usually, nothing happened until a certain number of tips came through but when one person tipped others immediately followed until dollar signs filled the screen and you hit the quota only a few minutes in.

Turning in place, you smirk at Vernon before standing.

“I guess we’re starting early tonight, babe.” You say loud enough for the mic to pick up as you round the chair to stand behind.

“You don’t wanna ask them?”

Memyselfandbi: ask us what?

Memyselfandbi donated $200

MILFMAKERGYU: yes, i’ll be your third

Rolling your eyes, more curious questions fly through the chat window and so do tips; each attached with a request to decide whatever will happen between you and Vernon tonight. Auctioning off different things wasn’t new to your streams but tonight was a surprise to celebrate the highest earning month either of you had experienced.

“Since you guys are being so generous, we planned two options. If you vote for mine, you’ll get to see my baby treated right. And if you choose his, then we’ll all be bored.”

“Not for me,” Vernon grumbles.

420jun: i vote whatever you want honey!!!

“Aw that’s sweet,” you giggle.

Vernon snorts. The chat is full of people simping for you, trying to gain a second of attention with similar messages. Luckily, he isn't as easily swayed by your batting eyelashes.

“If you choose mine then Honey is gonna ride my fingers for the camera.”

“And if you wanna see me with cum on my face you should pick mine.” You sigh, tracing your nose along the curve of Vernon’s neck, nipping gently at his ear to make him jolt.

The chat descends into chaos as a moderator unlocks a poll. More tips flood in, attempting to sway your decision but you and Vernon spare a glance at each other with knowing smiles.

No matter what they decide, they’ll get both in the end. A win win for everyone.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

#svthub #vernon smut #svt smut #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #vernon fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #vernon imagines #hansol vernon chwe #🫡 highvern

123 notes · View notes

deafeningbasementcolor · 6 months

Text

Go Ahead and Fall- Yandere! Alien x Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Nonhuman, Mind Control, Bodily harm for reader, Violence, Alien Invasion, Mentions of parental estrangement, Reader breaks a leg

Please do not interact with my works if you are not over the age of eighteen.

"Somethings wrong, Daddy. I know you don't want anything to do with me, but I need you to-" The pleading words are cut off by a smile gracing your father's face. "Of course. I am your father, after all. Come on inside, I will keep you safe." A shiver goes down your spine.

That wasn't how your father would respond. He never would talk so formally for one, nor would he have such a kind paternal look to his face as he moves aside to allow you to enter his home. The inside is suspiciously free of the drug paraphernalia that was scattered across the coffee table last time you dared to visit. Instead, on the coffee table sits two cups of coffee. They're full, freshly made. Your father lives alone.

"Nevermind." You mutter, taking a step back. That serene smile is still on his face.

"Nonsense. I insist you come in." You take another step back. He follows. You take off running. He's about to catch you when you reach his truck at the end of the driveway, grabbing the handle. The door opens for you, the truck not locked, and you slam the door into him. You climb up and in, and you aren't super religious but someone up there is on your side because the keys are sitting in the ignition still. You turn the truck on before he can get the driver door back open, rearing out of the driveway.

The second you turn out of his neighborhood, you can't help but feel a sense of paranoia. You turn out to be correct in that, because a minute later three police cars begin to follow you. They turn on the sirens and yet follow you at an almost polite pace. More mind controlled zombies then.

You had been dealing with this all day, people with odd interactions trying to lure you into their arms. It had culminated into this.

You felt like this was a bad dream, as you turned onto the bridge. Your friend Isaac lived like a hermit right by it. Maybe he wouldn't be a puppet. Unfortunately, to get to him, you'd have to get past the damn two-way bridge that went over a fast flowing river. Not the smartest move, but in your defense you didn't have much time to strategize.

The police cars stop behind you, blocking off the road in case you try to backtrack. There's no other cars on the bridge. Ahead, you see three new police cars turn at the other end of the bridge, turning sideways and blocking the exit. What the fuck.

You stop, putting the car in park. Neither side has cops getting out of the cruisers. They seem to be satisfied just in the fact that they've blocked you in. You climb out of the car and run to the side of the bridge. Down below is the river. It's a scary drop, making you swallow bile as you consider it.

Suddenly, the cops climb out of their cars, walking calmly down the road towards you. "Do not panic." They call out to you.

"A-are-....are you gonna hurt me?" You ask, and you're surprised they can hear you. "No, of course we will not hurt you. We are just going to bring you to your mate. He has been waiting for you. Do not be frightened."

That just makes you panic more. You climb the rails of the bridge, tears pricking your eyes as you look down at the rush of the water. Is it even deep enough for you to jump without breaking something? But you feel like the only choice you have is to chance it.

Just as you climb over, clinging to the outside of the rail and preparing yourself to let go, you hear the sound of...something below you. You chance a glance down, palms sweaty against the rail as you crane your neck.

Something is in the river. You see it, the water beginning to part around whatever is there, and suddenly it stands. It's taller than any possible human, wider too.

How the fuck was it hiding in the river?

It holds out two blobs from it's formless body, and they turn to arms and hands. The hands are large enough to wrap around your body, held with their palms upwards for you to land into. A gigantic face is created, with human features....besides the fact that the eyes are pure black and the smile that forms is all sharp teeth.

"Come, my little mate. You have given me quite the chase. It is time to let me love you."

You scream, trying to haul yourself back over the rails and back onto the bridge. It's too late. The cops are there. How did they get there so fast? They smile serenely at you as they all reach down to peel your hands off.

You fall backwards, with a rush of air around you. You're too stunned to even scream, landing in one of those gigantic palms painfully. One of your legs lands beneath you. Agony burns through you, and you begin to wail in pain. The angle its in is all wrong. You don't think you could even get up to try and run, if the fingers of the hand weren't curling up to keep you contained in the palm.

"Oh, poor little human. You have broken one of your legs. Such a fragile thing. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

#yandere x reader #yandere alien #Yandere alien x Reader #Yandere

107 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 2 months

Text

Leo's Birthday

Soooo this fic actually takes place 4 fics in the future and I'll make sure to leave it in the correct order in the masterlist. But I wrote it first and I don't have the patience to wait to post!

-------------------------------------

“Hey, Wagner,” Dean poked his head inside of the empty conference room, where Leo was hunched over his papers, reading over a previous case similar to the one he was currently handling.

It was only his third case, he couldn’t fumble it.

“Yeah?” Leo didn’t bother looking up, so he startled when Dean suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, “Martin, what are you doi-”

“Mark your page,” Dean bossed, squeezing his shoulder, with a smile on his face, “I gotta show you something.”

Leo scoffed at the order, but his curiosity was piqued and he obeyed, marking his page and putting the files away inside his case. They walked out of the conference room together and then entered the elevator.

“Where are we going…?” Leo frowned as Dean pressed the last digit. The top floor only had Mrs. Mitchell’s office and the rooftop…

“Wait and see,” Dean was bouncing on his feet and Leo squinted, suddenly very suspicious. Surely his co-worker wouldn’t be this happy over bad news, they were friends, so-

The door opened and Leo nearly jumped out of his skin as a huge “SURPRISE!” followed.

He startled, his back hitting the inside of the elevator, then let out a chuckle at his own expense. His coworkers were all gathered around the door. Sandra, Chuck, Nicole from the reception, Mrs. Mitchell — his boss! —, others as well.

Sandy was holding a box with a bento cake and two cupcakes inside of it. The icing was a deep, forest green, with golden flakes all over it. Their office’s colors.

“You didn’t think you could hide your birthday from us, did you Wagner? We’re professional snoopers,” Dean messed up his hair, shoving Leo out of the elevator. There was a table on the rooftop and they had piled on little tea sandwiches, more green cupcakes and a champagne bottle.

Leo’s chest squeezed with happiness, “I wasn’t hiding anything, I - I love this, thank you,” he interrupted himself, as Sandra passed the box with the mini cake and cupcakes to Chuck’s hands and pulled him into a hug to congratulate him.

It was nearly the end of their day, so they spent an hour there celebrating. Leo devoured his cake. It was almost too much for one sitting, but he hadn’t had lunch, so that hit just the right spot.

Still, as they wrapped up, he was feeling full enough he decided to skip on the two cupcakes and just bring them home for later.

“Go home, Wagner,” Mrs. Mitchell patted his arm, “and next year we hope to know with more advance than Dean guessing because he was snooping during lunch,” she rolled her eyes, “so we can have a proper lunch in celebration.”

“This was amazing, I don’t need anything else, ma’am,” Leo blushed and she wrinkled her nose at his line.

“Don’t settle for less than you deserve, Wagner. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

She talked like their football coach, Leo thought with a smile, nodding and heading to the elevator. Maybe that was why he liked her so much.

Having two hours more than he had expected, Leo took his time driving home, stopping along the way to pick up flowers for their apartment and treats for JD.

Leo called Vince, but he didn’t pick up, indicating he was on the road. Jonah was surely still at the hospital. Leo took a long shower, then hit the dial to Luke, while putting the two remaining cupcakes in the fridge, taking a needless bite of one. He was bored and ready to start his birthday celebrations.

“Hi kid,” Luke picked up on the second ring, “sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Is this anything urgent?”

“No,” Leo pouted, “we can talk at the restaurant, I was just bored and wanted to chat.”

“Sorry,” Lucas sounded busy, “I’m in the shelter-”

“The homeless shelter?” Leo raised his eyebrows, squishing the phone between his cheek and shoulder and falling down to his knees as he saw JD get out from under the couch, “what are you doing there?”

“I started working here yesterday,” Luke was breathless, “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. See you in a couple hours, kid.”

“See you,” Leo sighed, hanging up and then getting down on his stomach on the floor in order to grab his cat. JD let out an indignant meow at Leo snatching her, falling into a baby position as he cradled her, “hi baby. My cute, fluffy, prickly baby,” he said in a childish voice, feeling the judgment oozing out of his pet.

Jonah came home just as Leo was starting to get restless, moving around with nothing to do since he hadn’t planned to have free time.

“Hi!” Jon jumped as he saw Leo sprawled on the couch, already all dressed for the night, with JD getting her fur all over his fancy buttoned up shirt, since she was curled up on his stomach, “you’re home early, I was hoping- I was thinking you’d-”

Leo lifted up his head from the couch cushion, eyebrows raised at Jon’s uncharacteristic fumbling of words, “hoping I was gone?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Jonah scoffed, neatly tucking away his shoes and circling the couch in order to look at him, “don’t you look nice.”

“Thank you,” Leo grinned, lazily scratching JD’s head, “my boss gave me the last two hours of my day off, but uh… I had nothing to do, so I’ve been here, bothering JD.”

“She looks super bothered,” Jonah rolled his eyes, as their spotted cat was purring, rolled up on herself like a snake, on top of Leo, “well, I was planning on leaving this on top of the bed with a letter that said how much I love you and how incredibly successful and attentive and loving I think you are and how I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my days, but since you’re here…” Jon sat at the edge of the couch, handing him a large silver wrapped box, “it’s nothing flashy, but you’re a lawyer, so I think I’m allowed-”

Leo raised a hand to shut him up, removing the lid of the box and then letting out a whistle, while JD got up to sniff at the wrapping paper, “this is stunning… You got my name engraved?”

“Stamped,” Jonah corrected, as Leo pulled out the dark leather case from the box, eyebrows raised at the marking that said Mr. Leo Wagner - Juris Doctorate, “I left some space there for the hyphenated Banks, if you make up your mind about it…”

Leo’s cheeks hurt from smiling, “I love it. I’m gonna use it every damn day… And I’m considering the Banks, I promise,” he leaned in to grab Jon’s shirt, pulling him for a kiss, “I love it, thank you.”

“I love you,” Jon shrugged, thumb pushing slightly on Leo’s chin, “I’m gonna shower and we can go- Stop letting JD cuddle when you’re dressed up, bloody hell, Leo.”

“She’s cute!” Leo cried out as Jon got up from the couch and rushed out. He was still completely enchanted by his new case. There were fancy instructions of use and a bottle of leather conditioner in the box, as well as a life-long warranty that made him snort.

As they made it to the restaurant, Leo’s stomach was starting to hurt from hunger. Even though he had had his mini cake in the office, three hours had passed and he was a big guy, just that wasn’t even remotely enough to sustain him.

Bella, Luke and Wendy were already inside and Leo rushed to them. The couple had literally just gotten back from their honeymoon three days ago and they hadn’t had a chance to meet yet.

“C’mere, blondie,” Bella pulled on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a tight hug, “congratulations, Leo.”

Leo melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around her and taking Bella’s feet off the ground, tipping his body back.

They were already a bottle of wine in — not that much, considering there were five of them — when Vince entered the restaurant.

“I’m so so sorry,” Vince cried out, stripping his biker jacket and throwing it to Luke, “there was a huge tree in the road and no one could get through – it’s not important – Give me a hug!” Vin practically manhandled Leo out of his chair and the blonde let out a squeak at the ribs crushing hug, “happy birthday, kiddo.”

“I-Can’t. Breathe,” Leo gasped, making Vince chuckle and drop him. Leo dizzily staggered back, practically falling into his seat.

Conversation went on easily after that. Leo retold that evening’s events, not hiding how proud and happy he was that his boss had joined in the celebration, and Wendy had a million tales to share about the fifty different things she was doing. Luke and Bella couldn’t shut up about the Maldives, still grossly all over each other despite spending nearly a month away with no one but each other’s company.

Jonah brought up Angie’s proposition while they went through the second main dish – lobster — and Luke shrugged, “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

“Of course you do, you don’t work,” Jonah wrinkled his nose, causing Luke to glare at him and Leo to snort, continuing to eat his food.

“I’ll have you know I actually got a job,” Lucas shrugged, as if those weren’t big news and didn’t mean a lot, considering how much of his mental health deteriorating was tied to his career path or lack of one.

“What’s the job?!” Vince practically rattled him and Luke chuckled, pushing his hands away.

“I’m a charity fundraiser,” Lucas was almost beaming with how happy he was and Bella threw an arm around his shoulders, planting a big lipstick-red kiss on his cheek, “I’m not gonna take credit for this, it was actually a culmination of my therapist asking me to get a couple vocational therapy sessions, my beautiful wife telling me to stop sulking about being rich, and me finally using my head.”

“Whatever does that mean?” Leo asked, leaning back on his chair. His stomach was stuffed with food and there was still dessert to go. He fidgeted on his seat, wishing he could rub his belly or loosen up his belt, but it would be bad form in an upscale place such as this.

“Well, I have the political connections thanks to my mom, I have the glamorous connections thanks to my dad, but I never wanted to do anything with those. They always felt like a burden,” Luke blushed, “but that was silly. There’s people who’d kill to be able to get things as easily as I can, so I realized I can use these connections for good-”

“By making rich people give away their money,” Vince chuckled, clicking his glass with Bella and the ginger nodded almost smugly.

“It’s not just that,” Luke whined, but he didn’t seem offended, “you actually need to know laws, but lucky me, I’m a Poli Sci major… And I happen to be really good at leading teams and bossing people.”

“We already knew that, Captain,” Leo winked at Luke, leaning to his side and half resting against Jonah, as the conversation continued, Wendy was full of questions about Luke’s new position, even after him saying he was not in charge of anything, but working under a guy. She had that ambitious little sparkle in her eye that often found a twin in Jonah’s.

Not this time, tonight Jon was too busy saving all of his heart eyes for Leo. He leaned in, pressing his nose to the blonde’s temple and smiling, “enjoying yourself?”

“Uh-hum,” Leo nodded, biting down a grimace as his stomach cramped. Maybe he had overdone it… He just needed a moment, Leo thought, breathing through it and glaring in disgust to his empty plate. He really shouldn’t have cleared the plate.

Probably noticing his grimace, a waiter quickly came to retrieve all the plates, then hung around as they chatted about dessert. Leo felt a wave of revulsion at the thought of eating another bite. His tummy was packed and he could feel a lump in his throat.

He coughed lightly against his fist and squeezed Jon’s knee, “order me a water? I gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Of course,” Jon nodded, still lazily studying the menu and letting out a chuckle as Wendy pulled her chair closer to him, impromptu giving him advice on what to pick.

Leo circled the table, when he passed by the guys, Vince darted out a hand in a teasing manner, giving his back a pat.

It wouldn’t have mattered on any other day, but stuffed as he was, the little friendly pat — that was a bit rough, given Vince never seemed to have understood he was not the size of a kitten — caused a sick burp to come up.

It fizzled out in his throat, but brought with it the taste of his dinner, causing Leo to shudder. He burst into the men’s room and caught a glimpse of his face.

The wine had done a decent job at masking his paleness, because despite the fact he had turned belly-fish white in the last couple of minutes, the alcohol still caused the top of his cheeks to be a starkling pink.

He leaned over the sink, splashing his face with water and taking some soothing breaths. The hunched over position caused his stomach to slosh dangerously and Leo let out yet another little burp under his breath, glancing at the door nervously as he touched his belly.

Deciding he didn’t want to risk getting walked on by one of his friends, Leo stumbled to the private stalls and locked the door. He sat on the toilet instead of leaning over it like his belly was begging him to, then spread his legs out and undid his belt.

The relief was instantaneous and Leo all but melted as the nausea eased up. He planted a hand on his stomach, tugging up his black button up, and scrunched up his face as he looked at his belly. His abs were a far cry from the morning, now his stomach was taut and stretched out, gurgling non stop.

It wasn’t something they’d be able to hear over the chatting and the soft piano music in the restaurant, but in the empty bathroom he could hear it clearly. Leo groaned, planting the heel of his hand to his tummy and pressing in little circles.

The belly rub wasn’t quite successful and nowhere near as nice as Jonah’s were, but at least it managed to bring up yet another breathy burp- He lurched forward with a much bigger one, that nearly morphed into a retch. Leo slapped a hand over his mouth, shocked and breathing hard, trying to understand if his stomach was going to reject his dinner.

Instead, the near gag seemed to have calmed things down a bit. He carefully removed his hand from his lips, wiping the clammy sweat from his upper lip and breathing out. That was close.

Figuring he had been gone long enough, Leo begrudgingly got up, closing his belt once more and tucking his shirt in. He splashed his face with some more cold water and took a breath, forcing himself to get out of the bathroom.

The minute he walked out, a hand was planted over his eyes and everything went dark. Leo let out a startled squeak, which morphed into a hiccup and Jonah laughed at the noise, kissing his cheek.

“Relax,” he whispered in his ear, guiding Leo to walk forward, blindly, “happy birthday, baby.”

He lowered his hand and Leo realized Jon had walked him back to their table. Now their friends were standing and there was a large cake in the middle of the table, with candles sticking out and already alight.

Just the sight of it made his stomach churn, but Leo wasn’t lying when he smiled. The effort his friends had gone through to get him the perfect cake mattered much more than his bellyache and he shoved it to the back of his mind, grinning like crazy as they started to chorus in the happy birthday song.

Leo’s cheek turned a deep red as he noticed other strangers looking at their table, some even joining the singing. He turned his head, hiding it on Jonah’s shoulder and his fiance smiled, squeezing him closer as they finished up the song and Leo leaned to blow out the candles.

He got pulled in yet another round of hugs and finally Leo fell back down on his seat, on the opposite side of the table. The brief truce he had earned from his tummy back in the bathroom was broken and he was hiccuping, causing Vince to giggle as he let out a little squeaky-toy noise.

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Vin chuckled, pushing a plate with a slice of cake his way and then passing Jonah another one, “dig in, kiddo, it’s your favorite. Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate.”

Sounded like hell, Leo thought with a small grimace, but then his stomach sank as he heard Vince’s next words, “my mom was appalled she shouldn’t put in any fruit.”

“Your mom- Ma made my cake?” Leo asked, both moved and completely distraught as he realized there was no way he could avoid eating now.

“Sorry guys, there was a huge tree on the road,” Wendy mimicked her boyfriend’s excuse from before, forcing a deep voice, “he was late because it was a whole logistic nightmare to bring the cake from Doveport, but Ma insisted, you’re like… Her favorite.”

Luke scoffed, “which is very unfair, I’d just like to point it out,” he said in a teasing way, “I’m supposed to be the favorite.”

“Shut up, Luke,” Bella chuckled, shushing him with a little kiss and stealing a piece of his slice of cake, even though she had her own.

Leo eyed the cake with disgust, nodding and forcing a smile. His mouth watered at the thought of pushing any more sweetness in his tummy, but he ignored it, grabbing the fork.

Jonah was scratching his back with one hand, continuing to eat and humming in agreement to the compliments about Ma’s cooking and the fact Leo was her favorite out of Vince’s friends. He was blissfully unaware of the turmoil his boyfriend was in and barely registered as Leo pushed half of his slice on his plate, giving up halfway through.

He couldn’t even swallow what was currently in his mouth. Leo tried gulping it down, but his throat was refusing to cooperate. He hiccuped again and this time he couldn’t help but groan, as liquid rocketed up his throat.

“I’m gonna get the bill,” Jonah whispered, squeezing his nape and getting up, beating Luke to it.

Leo groaned, barely trying to hide how shitty he was feeling. His friends were all getting up and then Vince circled the table, grinning, “are you drunk, kiddo? That was almost nothing compared to what I’ve seen you drink-”

“No-” he finally managed to gulp down the chocolate mess in his mouth and felt cold sweat break out on his back, his stomach immediately rejecting it, “ate- ate- HIC!- Fuck, too much…”

Vince chuckled, grabbing his arm, “Okay, let’s go outside for some air. C’mon-”

He gently shoved Leo forward and they walked out of the restaurant, Leo continuing to hiccup.

The cool air was nice, but Leo knew he was past the point where a breeze could help. He cupped his mouth, muffling yet another little burp and groaning as a hiccup shook him once more, causing his stomach to clench.

“Shit- Vince,” Leo grabbed his friend’s arm, gulping down nervously and trying to communicate he was gonna puke-

“BOO!” Wendy jumped on him and Leo lost his weak hold on his stomach. He let out a choking noise and folded in half, puking all over the patch of sidewalk and Wendy’s pink and green heels.

It was so violent that Leo felt dizzy. His eyes stung with humiliation and his nose with the acid that tickled it. He stayed bent down, unable to straighten up not only because he was so embarrassed, but because his belly felt far from settled.

He closed his eyes, letting out a whimper, and then felt a hand in the middle of his back, rubbing up and down. Too rough to be Jonah’s.

“What the hell, Leo?” Wendy groaned, while Luke said, “Wen, chill out,” and helped him straighten up. He was the one who had stepped closer. Vince and Bella looked equally shocked, Bella was the one carrying the box with the rest of his cake and she was clutching it to her chest.

“Sorry-” Leo groaned, feeling his whole face burn and his throat close up, now with tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Wendy scoffed, as Vince grabbed her by her armpits and helped her slide out of her shoes without having to touch the chocolate vomit covering them, “god, this is gross…”

“Wendy,” Luke stressed, squeezing Leo’s shoulder, “what’s wrong, Leo?”

“Sorry,” he groaned again, sniffling pitifully, “I just- I just had so much to eat and then Wendy startled me and- Why did you startle me?!”

“Because you were hiccuping!” Wendy scoffed, with a disgusted frown on, using Bella’s shoulder to steady herself as she tiptoed away from the mess. Vince seemed to have gotten over the shock and only looked amused, snorting at his girlfriend’s answer, “I was trying to help!”

“Amazing,” Jonah said, half amused, half annoyed, jumping down the last steps and joining them outside, “Leo, are you okay?”

“I wanna die,” Leo groaned, but at least the nausea had calmed down a little. Not fully, he still felt stuffed and his stomach was still churning, but he no longer felt like he was going to throw up right at that minute…

“You’re fine, Wendy will live,” Jonah rolled his eyes at Wendy’s little huff, but she did sigh and nod.

“Just because it’s your birthday I won’t yell at you,” she said, then in a much kinder voice, “at least do you feel better?”

“Not really,” Leo admitted, leaning on Jonah’s touch and wanting to crawl up somewhere dark and die. More people were leaving the restaurant and he wanted to hide away from their eyes, feeling like everyone knew… His stomach churned and he planted a hand on it, grimacing, “can we go home?”

Jon frowned, touching his face lightly, subtly checking for any heat, then nodded when he felt none, “yeah, of course. You guys can keep the cake, I don’t think anyone is going to eat it at home,” his voice had a slightly humorous tone and Leo blushed, but just the thought of the chocolate cake made his belly gurgle.

He groaned, “don’t even talk about it,” Leo wrapped an arm around his middle, squeezing his eyes shut as the queasiness started to come back. Luke thumped on his back in a sympathetic manner.

“Feel better, kiddo,” he smiled, “and happy birthday.”

Leo whined as the rest of their friends did the same, side stepping the mess to tell him goodbye, Wendy being the last one.

She squeezed his arm, “happy birthday, Leo,” her tone was teasing, “at least the hiccups stopped?”

“God, go away,” Leo groaned, muffling a burp in his hand and she grinned, kissing Jonah’s cheek.

“You owe me a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s” Wendy warned him, waving and running to where Vince was waiting for her on his bike.

Leo let out a sigh, falling against Jonah and groaning when his fiance let out a little chuckle at his expense. “What the fuck is a Jimmy Choo?” Leo asked, his voice muffled by Jon’s shirt, allowing the other man to pull him back to the car.

#sickfic #overeating #emeto #emetophilia #mywriting #leo wagner #food poisoning #uh that's sort of a spoiler

62 notes · View notes