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#long leg cast woman
jackcast2021 · 2 months
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Nothing like a long leg cast for a memorable graduation day!
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incognit0slut · 6 months
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All I Need
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Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:
Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making
words: 2077
A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲
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“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”
SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.
He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.
"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.
He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.
But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.
Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.
Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.
Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.
You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.
As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.
Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 
The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 
Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.
He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."
Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"
The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."
A whine broke out of you.
"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."
You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.
Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.
The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"
You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."
He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."
When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.
They were so full of love.
And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.
You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.
"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.
"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."
His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.
There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.
"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.
He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"
Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.
"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."
You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"
Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.
Marry me.
You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?
And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.
You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.
You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.
"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."
He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."
His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.
"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."
A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.
You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.
He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 
And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.
.
Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim
PLEASE READ: The crossed out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)
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writingmochi · 2 months
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part 1
cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)
synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!
genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)
word count: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)
warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)
message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.
first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!
soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2
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prologue: a town called valentine
it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.
but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.
“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.
“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.
“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.
“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.
your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.
“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.
“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.
“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.
“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.
“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.
-
1. stay soft, silly
the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.
your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.
“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.
“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”
it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.
when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.
little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.
at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.
“what was that for?”
“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”
one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.
stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.
it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.
when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.
so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.
“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”
the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.
“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.
“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”
“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”
“deal.”
“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.
“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”
heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.
“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.
“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”
“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”
“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.
“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.
“you like how my walls are sucking you?”
“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.
“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.
“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.
“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.
you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.
leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.
“you can cum in me-“
he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.
“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.
“breed me then.”
as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.
“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.
“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.
“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”
“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”
“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.
“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.
“y-you.”
“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.
“heeseung…”
“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.
“heeseung!”
the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.
grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”
“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.
both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.
“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.
“still a tie, huh?”
“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.
with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.
his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.
you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.
“we don’t need to discuss that.”
“no, we don’t,”
both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.
“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”
heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.
the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.
your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.
this will be awkward as fuck to experience.
“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”
when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.
“no.”
“what?”
“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.
“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”
“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”
your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.
“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”
“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“
“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”
“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.
“whatever, i have another thing to do.”
“does it involve the baby?”
“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”
you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”
rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.
-
“what the- what do you mean?”
the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.
the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.
“i’m gonna be a dad.”
jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.
“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.
“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.
“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.
“it’s fucking (y/n).”
“okay, now hold on!”
jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.
“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“
“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.
“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.
“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”
“yoon keeho’s party?”
“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.
“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”
“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.
well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.
for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.
though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.
so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.
“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.
“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”
jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.
“yo!” jimin replied.
“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.
“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.
“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“
“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.
“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”
-
“miss (y/n)!”
“wear this!”
there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.
“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.
“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.
“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.
“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.
“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.
“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.
“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.
“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.
“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.
“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.
as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.
it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.
“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”
“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.
“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.
turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.
“for you, miss (y/n)…”
you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.
she drew you.
“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.
you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.
“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.
“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.
“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.
“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”
you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.
“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.
yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.
as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.
“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.
“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.
wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”
“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.
“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.
“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.
“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”
yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.
“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”
“miss (y/n)!”
“no wa-“
you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.
“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.
“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.
“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”
you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.
“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.
“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.
“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.
when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.
since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?
you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.
“carpool picking you up?”
“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”
“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.
“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.
“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”
“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.
“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.
“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“
“no, we didn’t fuck today-“
“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”
“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”
“which are?”
“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”
“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.
“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”
“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.
“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.
“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.
“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”
“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”
“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.
“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”
“you’re definitely not his style.”
“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.
“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“
“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.
so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”
“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.
pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.
“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.
“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”
“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”
“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”
“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.
“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.
“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.
when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.
“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.
“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.
“wha, what’s this?”
“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.
“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.
“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.
“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.
“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.
“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”
the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?
“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.
“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”
beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.
slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.
“from beomgyu?”
shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.
eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs
“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.
“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.
“hey, who rang the be-“
minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.
“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”
the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.
“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”
-
thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.
turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.
“hey, uh, sheep!”
the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.
“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”
“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…” the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.
“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”
beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.
the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-
“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”
jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.
“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.
“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.
“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.
“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.
“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”
heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.
sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.
“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”
“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.
“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“
“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”
“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.
the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?
yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.
but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.
yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.
the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.
tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.
the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.
“hello?”
“that will not work, (y/n).”
heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.
“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.
“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”
“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.
“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.
“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”
heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.
“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.
“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”
“how’d you kno-“
“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”
“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”
heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.
“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”
-
your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.
remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.
your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.
the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.
“hey, (y/n).”
your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.
heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.
“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.
well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.
both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.
“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.
“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.
“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.
“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”
“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.
“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”
heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.
“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.
“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.
“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.
“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”
your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.
“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.
“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”
heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.
the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.
as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.
“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.
“TWINS?!”
-
2. katana-like knife
heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.
he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.
if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?
his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.
(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.
even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.
(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.
(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p
“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.
lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.
if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.
lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.
all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.
and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.
you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.
“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.
“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,
“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.
“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.
you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?
the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.
stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.
the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.
“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.
“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.
both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.
the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.
“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.
“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”
“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”
heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.
“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.
“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”
the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.
“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.
“yeah… the babies are ours-“
“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.
“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.
“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“
“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.
“bad fucking idea…”
“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”
mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.
“ughh, too tight.”
“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.
“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.
“hi, baby!”
“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”
“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.
“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.
“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”
“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.
“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.
“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.
“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.
“what have you two already prepared?”
“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.
“is it near campus?” she replied.
“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.
“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.
“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”
“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”
“of course, i can take care of the babies-“
“not by being stressed over college.”
“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”
your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.
his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”
“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.
“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.
-
heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.
but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.
printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.
“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.
“since when did you work in a daycare?”
the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.
“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.
“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”
heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.
“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.
“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.
“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.
“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”
heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.
“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.
“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?
your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”
“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”
“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”
he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.
the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.
the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”
he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”
“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.
playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.
the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.
thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.
the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”
“yes, i am.”
“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.
“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.
“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.
“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“
“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.
“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”
“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”
“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.
his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.
“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.
“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.
“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”
“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.
-
even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.
something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.
“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.
“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.
“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”
“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”
“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.
“ah, really?”
“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.
“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”
heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.
“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“
“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”
“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”
heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.
“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“
“someone’s calling my name?”
heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.
“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.
“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”
“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.
“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.
“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.
the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.
crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.
heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.
“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.
that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.
“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.
“dammit!”
“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.
“i didn’t.”
“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.
“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.
you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.
but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.
your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”
“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.
“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”
your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.
“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.
the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.
“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.
“and…”
the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”
“me?”
“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.
“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“
“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.
basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.
with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.
to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.
the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.
“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.
“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”
your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.
“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.
“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”
with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.
as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.
eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.
the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.
“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.
“did you mean that?”
“‘mean’ what?”
“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”
heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…
“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.
“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.
“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”
your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.
“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.
“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.
“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.
“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,
“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”
“we still could, you know.”
with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.
“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”
your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.
pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.
both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.
grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.
“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.
“baby steps.”
your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.
-
beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…
but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.
he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.
that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.
a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.
beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.
the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.
the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.
“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”
“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.
“sorry, about that. beom.”
“nah, no worries. i can wait.”
“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.
“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.
the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.
“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.
“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”
beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,
“no need. i’m okay with it.”
he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.
“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.
“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.
“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.
“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.
“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”
your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”
“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”
your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”
both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.
“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”
“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”
you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”
“thanks!”
“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”
the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.
“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.
“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.
“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”
you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.
“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”
“sweet-“
you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.
“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”
“me too with the guys.”
“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.
“thanks for her ride, gyu.”
“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.
“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”
he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.
“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.
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part 2
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 months
Text
ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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CLICK
𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.
Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.
Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.
Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.
Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.
You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.
Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.
A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?
Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.
You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.
Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.
Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.
Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.
Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.
No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.
With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.
Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.
As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.
There was no one there; you were going crazy.
“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”
You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.
You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.
With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.
After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.
Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.
You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.
Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.
Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.
“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”
You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)
“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”
You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.
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You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.
The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.
Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.
You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”
Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.
As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.
Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.
Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.
You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.
And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.
“Ah, yes, yes, please!”
Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.
Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.
After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.
You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.
You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.
The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.
Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.
The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.
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As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.
As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.
As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.
With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.
As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.
As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.
His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
Text
Irresistible || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two
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December 2019
Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.
“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”
He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.
“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”
“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”
Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”
Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.
You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”
A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”
“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”
“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”
He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”
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August 2017
All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.
You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.
“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?” 
You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before. 
“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”
“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”
“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.
“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.
“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”
You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”
He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”
You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.
“Charles, dépêche-toi!”
You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.
“Well?”
You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”
“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”
“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”
You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him. 
“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”
“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”
Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”
You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”
He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”
“The Fairmont.”
The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”
“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Your boyfriend?”
You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”
He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind. 
“Are you enjoying the city?”
“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”
“Have you been to Jimmyz?”
“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.  
“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”
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January 2020
Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink. 
You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.
The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.
“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.
“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”
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August 2017
The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.
“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”
You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.
With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”
Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”
He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”
You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.
Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”
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February 2020
You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.
“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.
The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.
“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”
“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.
She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”
You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.
“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”
“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”
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August 2017
“Where are we going?”
Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.
“You live in a hotel?”
He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”
He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.
For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.
The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.
“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.
Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.
“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”
Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.
“What’s my name?” he repeated.
“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.
“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”
The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.
You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.
Giada: When are you coming home?
“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.
You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”
His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”
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You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.
Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx
You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.
You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.
It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.
“You look like you had a rough night.”
You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough.”
You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.
You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.
“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.
He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”
Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.
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February 2020
You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away. 
“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”
“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”
Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?” 
“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”
“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.
Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”
You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping. 
“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”
“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”
“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”
“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”
“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”
“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”
You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”
“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”
You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”
He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”
“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”
“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”
“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”
“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Asshole.”
“Biche.”
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“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”
You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”
A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad. 
“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”
“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”
Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too. 
“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.
“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway. 
“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”
“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”
You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”
“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway. 
“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”
“No, she prefers me with nothing on.” 
You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Night, ma biche.”
It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.
“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”
You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply. 
Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours. 
Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water. 
“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”
“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.
“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”
His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”
“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him. 
You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”
“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.
“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”
“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”
Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys. 
You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”
Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”
You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable. 
Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”
His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.” 
“She’s pretty.”
He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.” 
You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”
“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”
“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it. 
“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”
“This is a bad idea.”
It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”
“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.
“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”
“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”
“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”
Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way. 
“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”
He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”
“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”
The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand. 
Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening. 
“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv. 
“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”
“Okay, and?”
 His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”
“Why?”
He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.” 
His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”
“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”
You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.
“Good news or bad news first?”
You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.
“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”
“Is that the good or the bad news?”
“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”
“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”
Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”
“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.
“This is going to be great.”
Click here for part two.
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queenendless · 7 months
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😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷
A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.
Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.
But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.
All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy!
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Your throat feels raw.
Your nose feels stuffy.
And you kept coughing every few minutes.
You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.
But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.
The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.
"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.
Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.
"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"
In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.
You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.
That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.
Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.
"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.
In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.
The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.
"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.
"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.
"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.
You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.
You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.
"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."
°•○•°•○•°•○•°
Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.
Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.
The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.
"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"
"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.
"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."
Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"
Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.
So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.
"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.
"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.
"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.
"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."
"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.
"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.
Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"
"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.
"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.
Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"
"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"
"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.
"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.
"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.
"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."
"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.
"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.
"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.
"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.
"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.
"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.
"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.
"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."
"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.
"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.
"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.
"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.
"Y - You're w - welcome!"
Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.
Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.
You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.
But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.
The SatoSugu cure, indeed!
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forsworned · 1 month
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CASUAL ft. FWB!JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH
Warnings: Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, FWB, Angst to Comfort
Author's note: Because Soap brainrot, that's all
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Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out Is it casual now?
The death grip you have on his mohawk as he sloppily eats you out with such vigor is making your legs shake so hard as you climax for the third time in the backseat of his truck. A gentle slap and a tender kiss to your clit after he's done supping you up and then he's adjusting himself in his trousers to make himself a little more comfortable under the restricting material.
"I gotta go now." He breathes, rubbing your bare thigh and you shiver at his touch. He always had to go. And honestly you could feel your heart dropping to your stomach as he flashes you that casual, boyish grin.
You only nod as you recollect yourselves and climb back to the front seats. Your heart on your sleeve as he pulls at your place and you're turning to him with a bashful smile. His baby blue are distant but he gives you a warm, good-natured grin as he rubs your thigh.
"Good seein' ya, lassie." He points his chin to the door as a gesture for you to hit the road in the most "polite" way possible.
You were no stranger to Johnny's detached ways. He was an avoidant at best when got his and he was sending you on your way to do whatever it is that you do before he hits you up again with a, "You up?" text.
Ugh.
"Dude, you deserve better." Your friend shakes her head at you as she pinches at a fry and pops it into her mouth.
"Honestly, he's a fucking asshole. He should be on his knees asking to be your man, not just the backseat of his truck." Your other friend chides, but it's lost on you. Their voices drown out as you peer over at your buzzing phone.
"You free tonite, lassie?"
"Don't" They quip at the same time, but it's tossed to the backlogs of your mind when you rush home after your hang out.
He's already there leaning against your doorway, swinging his car keys between his fingers as he lustfully gazes down at you. And in no time he's jovially, hungrily taking your face between his stout, calloused hands and kissing you passionately, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds into you. And you can't take it anymore, you want him. You want him so fucking bad and you didn't care if it was casual. Or whatever bullshit, avoidant bullshit he was feeding you.
You wanted him, craved him. You waste no time pulling aside your panties as he merely unzips his jeans to free his hard, girthy cock and presses it between your succulent, dripping folds, and his thick brows are furrowed together in euphoria. He casts a small glance down at you to make sure you're all right as he pushes himself deeper into you. It's a pleasant burn as he stretches you out, and you welcome it because fuck, it feels so fucking good when he's filling you up, but when he's done emptying himself out you're hollow once again as he's zipping his jeans back up.
He adjusts his brown leather jacket and gives you a wink and kiss to the cheek before he's on his way out.
And you almost feel like crying when he's gone. Just the remnants of his cologne and splooge still left on your linen sheets.
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?
And then you're at the grocery store, picking out what bouquet would be the prettiest as your centerpiece, and feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a steady kiss to the cheek, and a rumbling Scottish accent in your ear, "Hey, sexy."
You visibly melt at his touch and he loves the way you're wrapped around his finger. Addicted to how pliant you are for him in every conceivable way.
"Ey, Johnny, ye gonna introduce me?"
And you both freeze at the voice. An awkward laugh escapes his chest as he's moving away from you and see a woman who adorns strikingly similar features to him.
"Ma, this is..."
"[name]." You smile that glorious smile of yours and for a second it's got Johnny kinda dazed. He's blinking out of his stupor, but something about the way you shake his moms hand and so effortlessly talk to her stirs something in him. A side he's never bothered to explore because he was waaaay too busy exploring your insides.
"Ye should come t' our house in Long Beach. We're havin' a wee, friendly get-together. Bring a pal, even." Her accent is thicker and even less coherent to your ears than Johnny's is so it takes you a second to decode what she's saying. And suddenly your face lights up and--uh, oh, Johnny's in trouble now.
Because she's smacking him across the head with her rolled-up wad of weekly ads that she picked up from the market and scolding him for not telling her about you.
"Aye, Johnny, I knew what ye're up to. She's a braw lassie. Get yerself sorted!" She spews as he opens the passenger seat door for her, rubbing the back of his head. You almost feel bad for him as you watch him get reprimanded by his mother from your car. But it's almost a little too embarrassing that you could tell what the conversation was about.
And he's trying his best not to be a dickhead when you do actually show up at the party, but you're lighting the room up with every step as you're being engaged and thrown into a cacophony of banter and laughter. And you're actually so fucking funny? Like, really funny, like he's keeling over and clutching his stomach funny and it's not just because of the persistent buzz of his ale.
You're witty and sexy and downright fucking gorgeous, especially when the sea breeze picks up and sends your hair back a little and it's like a slo-mo in those romcoms Johnny was forced by his mother to watch when he was growing up. And how could he forget about how gentle you were when you're speaking to the wee ones. Weaving wildflower crowns and plaiting hair as you coo at them so maternally. And the cheeky little grins you would have on your face as you whisper little nonsensicals to them, and melodious giggles that follow.
Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck.
Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends
But then you're heaving after your second orgasm, he's still pounding away at you and there's a different look in his eyes as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He's overstimulating your clit and telling you what a sweet girl you are for him and that sends you over the edge and he's pulling out to cum all over your belly in hot white spurts.
Another kiss to your forehead before he gets up to what you think is him getting a towel to clean you up but he's lifting you over his shoulder in one swift movement and you're giggling all the way over to the shower. And then there's another round of deep, thrusting into your a-spot against the cold shower tiles until you're rolling your eyes back and begging for him to let you cum.
And that release is something else and he's smiling at you with his teeth latched between his lips, soaked dark lashes that frame his pretty cerulean blue eyes that send you into a trance. Honestly, heart eyes motherfucker because that's exactly how you would describe yourself in that moment as you gaze at him. He's just too damn pretty for words.
And how gentle he is when he's helping you clean off, but his presence is stripped too quickly for your liking. He's toweling himself down and grabbing his boxers as he puts his clothes back on, and you can only stand there studying him from the shower. He's leaving again and your heart was sinking.
But then you're hearing his voice, and you peep you head out just a bit to catch the conversation.
"Girlfriend?" He laughs, "not even close, mate."
And you could almost just disappear down the drain. You felt humiliated as you swamp out the rest of the exchange under the din of the hot water hitting your eardrums.
"She's mare like wifey material." He chuckles, thumbing through his camera roll in the little album he's titled, "Bonnie <3".
It's pictures he's collected over the past year of the both of you, some candid, (a lot) some in bed, and a ton from the night at the beach house. You were truly so beautiful and Johnny was getting caught up in you and he was no longer fighting it.
And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space
But you're getting fed up when you're in the middle of movie night and Johnny decides it's the best idea to watch Good Will Hunting. And it's the scene where Will and Skylar are breaking up and it's tearing you up inside when you see Johnny get a bit misty-eyed. You can't help yourself. You reach for the remote and pause it before, turning to him with anger and frustration in your eyes. And he's reaching out for you to calm you down with a flummoxed gaze, but you're refusing his touch and comfort.
And Johnny is sent home with his tail between his legs, speeding down the highway as he blasts Johnny Cash and attempts to suppress the earlier occurrence. It's unpleasant. The feeling that's settling into his chest and it feels tight.
He pumps the brakes. Hard.
And he's reversing in the middle of an intersection, cars are honking, people yapping at him but it's white noise as he's racing back to your place.
And with his heart in his hand, he's thumping urgently at your door and it feels like a millennia before you're opening it.
Tear-stained blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair in his Scotland flag embroidered hoodie he misplaced a month ago. He stares at your sniffling, crumpled form. Oh, how could he have done this to such a beautiful woman?
"I was lookin everywhere fer that hoodie." He says softly. His eyes are glossy as he blinks down at you, half smile and all.
You peer at the hoodie and then up at him. "What do you want? The hoodie? Here."
You begin to take it off but he's shaking his head and pulling it back down especially when he realizes you have nothing on underneath and he would be baring you out to the world. He heaves himself inside and you're scrambling against his arms, trying to push him out but of course, Johnny outsizes you by way too much to even make him move. He's holding you by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours as he dabs at the tears in the corner of your eyes.
"Y're so beautiful, [name]." He murmurs.
You're watery eyes, ream at his words. He had never said that to you before and your heartstrings are being pulled in every direction.
"What...?"
He kisses your cheek so tenderly and you feel like your ascending, "I said, y're beautiful, [name]. 'n' I wish I told ye that earlier."
You gaze down at his shoes not wanting to meet his eyes but he lifts your chin and meets your lips with the softest kiss he's ever bestowed upon you. It was so chaste yet so ardent and it made your heart skip a beat.
"I don't understand." Your thoughts are racing at this point and he can see it in your eyes. How absolutely head over heels you are for him and he was too much of a dickhead to really acknowledge it, how utterly striking you were, how perfectly imperfect you were. Going out of your way for him and fuck, he did not deserve it. Not then and maybe not even now, but realizing what a catch he has in his literal palms, he doesn't want to let go. And he will do anything to make up for it.
"'m sorry, hen. Never should have treated like ye were rubbish. Ye should be cherished 'n' protected." He brushes the hair out of your face and it is a painful revelation standing there in front of you with his heart on display and he's wondering how you were so brave to be doing it baring it out for him every time. And still, he would reject it like the bastard he was. Refusing to let you in when all you wanted was to be preserved, served, and loved.
"Johnny, I--" You croak out, tears cascading down your cheeks and you're looking back down at the ground, but he gently cups your cheeks.
"No, I love you, [name]. An' if ye let me, 'll do everythin' an' anythin' to make it up to ye. Ye were always there f'r me, an' it's about time I return it."
He shakes his head, wiping away his eyes. "Damn, 'm pure shite at this, but I hope ye can forgive me."
But as warm as your heart was, you have to stand firm. Johnny had hurt you in so many ways so, it wasn't going to be easy for you to just say yes. "You really hurt me, Johnny..."
"I know, I know, but 'm a man of action an' 'll do anythin'." He's pleading and to say that it isn't satisfying as fuck to see this beautiful, brawny man that you've been fucking for the past year groveling for you, was simply a lie.
"Ye gettin' off to this?" A smile graces his lips and you try to hold back, but you can't help but smile back at him.
Everything is so infectious about Johnny and it kills you.
"Fuck you." You breathe out, running a hand through your hair.
And he can't help but attack you with kisses and lift you up before crushing you under his weight as he lays you out on your mattress. Giggling like a maniac you remember to compose yourself even if it felt like the surface was breaching. There's a pause and you're both gazing into each other's eyes as you intertwine fingers, and Johnny is kissing you again, but it's different. It's really full of love and admiration.
He sighs in content for a moment before withdrawing and peers down at you. "S'what d'ya say? Gimme a chance?"
You cock a brow and smile at him. "You really are in no position to ask me."
"But..." "I'll sleep on it."
He's beaming at you now and you're totally getting flustered under his gaze. He wasn't going to let you slip away this go around.
"Deal."
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brummiereader · 3 months
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MASTERLIST PART ONE
Unchained Melody (Part Two)
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Summary: Thrown back into the life you abandoned, you are left to find your own way in your former home as Tommy's refusal to say what needs to be said leaves a heavy tension between you both. With your husband's avoidance and unwillingness to talk, you quickly learn for yourself the many things that have changed in Arrow House, and of the Governess you believe has taken your place. Do your worries hold any weight? Or are they simply the fears of a woman trying to recover who she once was?
Warnings: Language, angst, postpartum depression, mutual pining
Word Count: 4359
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"Your wife?..."The Governess laughed, a scoff catching in her throat as her eyes darted to Tommy and away from the disgusted look she was giving you when her smirk suddenly dropped at the unamused glare your husband was sending her. It took mere minutes for the news of your shock return to make its way around the vast estate of Arrow House, each and every worker peering into the foyer of your former stately home to get a glimpse of the woman that had returned from the dead. You could feel every stare, hear every whisper. And as your eyes cast down to your muddy shoes and those of the pristinely dressed woman in front of you, shame engulfed you and your legs slowly buckled. The only thing keeping you up, being that of your husband's tightening grip, warning you not to create any further commotion.
"Tommy?" the woman looked to him, her brow furrowed, the tone in her voice abruptly changing from one of disbelief to irritation. "Mr Shelby" she corrected herself when Tommy cocked a brow in response to her lapse in formalities, formalities that had already been blurred in your long absence. For just as shame and regret engulfed you whilst you stood there leaning into your husband's hold, Tommy found himself scrambling for some form of professionalism with the Governess he had hired, as his own guilt quickly weighed heavy on his already burdened shoulders.
"Mr Shel.." she voiced again as Tommy walked you forward, a grunt shuddering past her lips as your husband's shoulder crashed into hers in passing, unwilling to answer questions from anyone, questions he himself did not yet have the answers for.
" Move" he commanded, pushing you forward to follow behind Frances and your sleeping son cradled warmly in her arms as she made her way up the long staircase, every step followed by the piercing stare of the Governess as she slowly turned around and watched you from below in the foyer.
" Get back to work!" She barked at the employees of Arrow House, glaring at each and every one of them as she stormed through the entrance heading for the library, the loud echoing of her heels resonating through the walls of the grand home coming to an abrupt stop when she slammed the door of the study firmly behind her.
" Quiet now William" Frances gently hushed your son's movements from the sudden noise briefly awakening him from his deep slumber, your husband's insistent grip tightening once again as his irritation with everyone's reaction continued to be taken out on your already sore arm.
" No. You stay with me" Tommy said when you went to follow William and Frances into the nursery, a surge of panic quickly engulfing you seconds later when he pulled your trembling body to the bedroom you once shared and William left your line of sight.
Letting go, Tommy stretched the strain from his fingers as he watched you kneed circles into your bruised flesh. Had he hurt you? He silently asked himself as he clenched and loosened his fist from the throbbing pain shooting through his bones. Why didn't you say anything? He thought to himself as he watched you with a furrowed brow, troubled as to why you didn't tell him to stop, why the woman stood before him hated herself so much that she had surrendered to the acceptance of pain without once flinching, nor uttering a word. Did you think you deserved it?
"Everything...everything is as you left it" Tommy sighed as his fingers came up to pinch his brow and the frustration growing within him for how he had behaved, everything but how he imagined he would've reacted in the lonely nights he had spent without you. What the fuck was wrong with him? He cursed himself once again. Never once had he laid a finger on you, never once had he wished you harm, and yet in the space of a few minutes he had done just that.
Willfully pushing down his anger through gritted teeth, Tommy watched you as you looked around the room, your fingers gliding over the satin bedsheets, your hands gingerly reaching out for your once cherished possessions carefully arranged like a shrine in your wake. He wanted to shout, he wanted to show you the depths of the darkness your absence had plunged him into. But instead, for the briefest of moments, Tommy found himself gazing at you, lost in your movements as the fading sun over the grounds of Arrow house cast a dusky orange glow around your body through the netted curtains.
As the memory of your last night shared together came hurtling back to him, tormenting him with time lost and moments stained, Tommy quickly span around, swallowing his mounting emotions and forcing them back from whence they came." Frances..." He said clearing his throat as he stood firmly with his back to you, adamant on you not seeing any more of the pain he had kept locked away for almost two years. "... Frances will run you a bath and burn those rags in the fire" he said sniffing back his tears, reaching for the door handle as his spite quickly returned.
" Tommy I..." Your voice drifted to him, cutting yourself off as you watched his firm grip on the brass knob tighten, feeling as if you were overstepping a line into his broken heart.
" Just tell me one thing Y/N. Was it because of me? Was I the reason you left?" He asked, his voice quiet, uncertainty and worry laced in every word, his restless thoughts as to what had you leave still fogged in a cloud of confusion and self-blame.
" Tommy no, of course not..." You assured as you hurried to him, abruptly recalling as you came face to face with the solemn heaviness weighing down his tired features and the loose tears pooled under his lashes. Had he really thought that? All this time? You asked yourself as you stood there in horror that he would believe such a thing, that you had let him believe such a thing. " Tommy wait, please!" You pleaded as he swiftly opened the door and slammed it behind him, leaving you in your own pool of tears as you sank down onto the bed.
Steadying himself with clenched fists around the landing banister, Tommy chocked out a cry as a sudden release of weight lifted off his shoulders. " Fuck..." he breathed heavily, resting his forearms over the wooden staircase as his fingers laced through the top of his hair, his body draining of the blame he had condemned himself with as your sobs echoed through the halls of Arrow house.
Thundering down the stairs and away from the sound of your cries luring him back, Tommy headed for his office, stubbornly enclosing himself away from the desperation of wanting to hold you and the will to let the fortress he had built around his heart come tumbling down. Stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on. The British way. And what Tommy would soon learn, the wrong way.
" Thank you, Frances" you said handing her the last of your clothes as you dipped your foot into the heated bath whilst she lovingly folded them one by one into a neat pile, ignoring Tommy's orders to have them thrown on the fire he had already lit in the master bedroom.
" Everything is here for you Mam, fresh towe.." Frances said when your frustrated sobs caught her attention.
" Fuck sake" you began to cry as you tried to pull the comb through your knotted hair, surrendering to ever recovering your luscious locks as you then began to frantically scrub the dirt from your skin until your flesh turned bloody.
" Mrs Shelby! You'll scrub the skin of your bones" Frances hurried to you, gently taking the sponge from your trembling hands as you reached for her arm, clutching it in desperation.
" He's disgusted by me, with what I did, how I look.I...I cant...I can't get the knots out" your panicked voice tried to make sense of your hectic thoughts as you looked down at your marked skin.
" Would you like me to stay, Mam? And help?" She said taking your shaky hands within hers as her gentle smile looked down at you. Nodding, you let go of her arm as she pulled a wooden stool to the side of the bath and began to brush through your hair, gently loosening your matted locks. " Always did have such a beautiful crown of hair" she said combing through each section as you bit your trembling bottom lip.
" You don't have to be nice to me, Frances" you said as your hands flew to your face, hiding the barrage of emotions that was seconds away from flooding down your cheeks.
" And why ever not?" She said with a furrowed brow as she came to a stop.
" It's ok, I deserve it. You can say it. Everyone is thinking it" you cried, pushing your tears away as your chest filled with a shattering pain, and you began to sob into your hands.
" Mrs Shelby..." she sighed, her own eyes filling with tears for the sweet woman that had always treated her and everyone else who worked in the manor with the upmost respect and care. "Every worker here on the grounds of Arrow House has nothing but fond things to say about you. And not one judges you for the torment we all saw you battle through"
" You're very kind Frances, but...but I'm afraid my husband doesn't share those sentiments. He hates me " you cried looking down at your ring finger, the indent from where your wedding band once sat still visible to this day, a reminder of the abandonment you had committed and the marriage you had left behind.
" He blamed himself Mam, as men often do when their heart is breaking" she said as she returned to combing your hair and you listened intently to one of the few people close enough to have seen your husband's turmoil after the regretful night you had left. " Do you know why William calls you Mummy, Mrs Shelby?" Frances said, changing the subject to one that might uplift your spirits rather than dampen them anymore than they already were.
"No. Please, please tell me" you replied clutching to the side of the bath, clutching onto every word Frances said as the shock and confusion from hearing your son utter the one word you never thought would grace your ears earlier that day.
"Every night before putting little William to bed, Mr Shelby would sit with him and show him your picture. Not one night did he forget. He'd insist the poor mite stayed awake until his eyes were heavy as he hurried home from the city to tell him all about his Mummy. So that when he did fall asleep, his dreams would be of you" she said moving to the last knot in your hair as your heart tugged in your chest and the tender gesture Tommy fulfilled every night in your absence ." Does that not sound like a man who still loves his wife?" She asked as you turned to face her, nodding your head as tears wetted your cheeks. " Many things have changed since you left Mam. But there were many Mr Shelby could not part with. So they stayed. You stayed"
Sat alone on the edge of the bed dressed in your former clothes, your hair perfectly coiffed, your nails immaculately manicured, you waited in silence, not knowing what was expected of you now you had been thrown back into the life you once left, thrown into trying to find the woman you once was within the space of a few hours.
Tommy hadn't returned to you since slamming the door to your shared bedroom earlier that day, slamming out what needed to be discussed and the built up emotions that needed to be released. And with William being taken care of by the watchful eyes of a plethora of nannies, all under the command of who you could only assume was the Governess you had met hours earlier, you were left restless, awaiting the next moment you would be confronted by your husband again. Deciding not to prolong the inevitable, you gingerly opened the door to the bedroom and made your way down the long staircase, briefly coming to a halt at the sound of William's joyous giggles as he played in the nursery mere meters away. Tommy was keeping him from you. You were certain of it. And could you blame him? What right did you have to insert yourself back into his world when you had already given up the most cherished gift your life could have blessed you with. Motherhood. You thought to yourself as you came to the bottom of the stairs to see Tommy standing in the archway of the front door talking to the stable hand.
"Mrs Shelby" the older man beamed upon seeing you standing before him, the most sincere of smiles gracing his face as Tommy turned to look your way.
And there it was. Capturing him once again in the briefest of moments as time warped and he watched you step towards him, rid of the ragged clothes and muddied skin that hid your radiating beauty he could only gaze at through your cherished photos and portraits. Were you still his? He sheepishly thought to himself as he quickly glanced up from the floor to see you desperately holding out on his every move, his every word. As the question of your remaining love weighed heavy on his thoughts, melancholy feelings returned and Tommy did what he does best. He left. Snatching away his hunger to wrap his arms around you, he fled for a second time, leaving you with words unspoken and a heart heavy with shame.
" Not the welcome you were expecting, Mrs Shelby? Do I even call you that?" a voice approached you as an overpowering powdery smell of roses and soap filled your senses. " Left not only a troubled man but a difficult child in your wake" she said as you turned to face the Governess staring down at you. Judging you, once again." Over indulged and unable to soothe himself back to sleep. He should have left the breast after a month" she remarked flatly, as the only thing you thought you had done right by your child was cruelly snatched away from you within seconds. " The lower class, and poverty-stricken nurse their children. What a burden you must have put on Mr Shelby with the restless night's your refusal to do as any woman of your previous statue would do" she said belittling you once again as you turned to leave, feeling your frame shrink with each step at the insignificance this woman had made you feel without no mercy or regard to your feelings." What kind of mother, what kind of wife would do what you did?" She said as you came to a sudden halt. Brushing your tears from your cheeks, a sense of composure overcame you in response to the woman who was but a mere stranger to you, with judgmental words not even your husband had uttered to you. You were still Tommy's wife. William, still your son. And as you turned to face the bitterness and disregard she had for you and everything you once were, you corrected her not on her assumptions of you or the words you felt you were due, but on one thing.
" Mrs Shelby. You refer to me as Mrs Shelby"
As night fell, and a blanket of stars covered the skies of Arrow House, you lay in bed tossing and turning to the sound of William loudly wailing in the room adjacent to yours, as Tommy, you could only assume, was sleeping elsewhere, avoiding you once again. Why wasn't anyone going to him? You thought to yourself as you threw the covers off you and made your way to his door. Were they expecting you to go? Now you was back? You nervously pondered as you hovered by the door slowly opening it to see your son stood in his cot, his checks reddened from his restless cries.
" Mummy..." he wept loudly upon seeing you, his arms reaching out for you as you stood back and watched, your hands sweaty your face heated in panic.
" Shh William, it's ok" you said gingerly approaching him as he furiously strained his arms above his head for you to pick him up. " William, I...I don't think I'm allowed" you said nervously looking back to the door, every part of you wanting to sweep up your child and cradle him tightly in your arms. " I'm here William" you said giving in to every motherly instinct you possessed as you went to lift him out of his bed when the door creaked opened.
" Oh, Mrs Shelby! You gave me a fright" Frances said as her hand flew to her chest.
" Im sorry. He was crying. No...nobody came. I...I was only...please don't tell my husband" you panicked as you took a step back, scared your actions would see you cast from Arrow house. Never to see your child again.
" Enough of that. Take him, he's your child" she reassured you, gently guiding you forward. Lifting William from within his cot, you wrapped your hands around his small frame as his arms hung over your shoulders, and he gently sobbed into your chest. Overwhelmed with love, tears streaked your cheeks as you cradled the side of his head in your palm and placed a longing kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the sweet smell of his hair as a surge of peace overcame you. " There we go" Frances smiled, watching Williams eyes get droopy with sleep as you rocked him back and forth in your arms, the sudden quietness quickly alerting Tommy who was sat on the steps outside the house, smoking himself through a packet of cigarettes like he did every night as he waited for the tormenting sound of his child's cries to settle.
"Why didn't anyone go to him?" you asked as William's body went heavy with sleep and his hiccuping sobs slowly started to fade into gentle breaths.
" The Governess has insisted on him self soothing. But William is a sensitive soul, and I've learnt over the years that one method doesn't work for all" she said stepping closer as she brushed the hair from his face. " You'll find any one of the staff up here on any given night, trying to get him back to sleep. Even our cook, Mr Giles on occasion, if the Governess is not standing guard" she said as Tommy approached the nursery, looking through the crack of the door to see you standing with his son in your arms, fast asleep.
" Frances..." you said turning to face her. "...Will he ever forgive me?" You asked as you rested your cheek on William's head, holding him as close as you could to your broken heart, hoping the severed bond would mend, and you could regain the years you had lost.
" I think he already does. That's the beautiful thing about children. They have only love in their hearts" she replied giving your arm a gentle squeeze.
" And Tommy?" You asked, yearning for your husband's forgiveness as you sought reassurance from Frances for a second time.
" When the storm has passed and the clouds have parted, he will be wanting the warmth of the sun back in his life. That i don't doubt" she replied as Tommy turned to leave for the four walls of his office and the bottle of whisky calling his name, ready to drown himself in the hurt he couldn't yet part with. "Hold your son Mrs Shelby. Don't ever let him go" she said, her parting words leaving a profound sentiment within you as you slowly walked to the rocking chair, turning it away from where you once sat and to the soft silver glow of the moon casting dreamy shadows onto the nursery floor.
"Oh I do like to be beside the seaside. Oh I do like to be beside the sea" you sang caressing William's face, looking down at his lips puckered together as his head weighed heavy on your chest and the gentle sound of his breathing played a calming melody to your ears " Forgive me William. I wasn't myself" you said as a tear streaked down your cheek and you brought his hand clutched tightly around your thumb to your lips, placing a tender kiss to his fingers" Sleep my sweet boy, sleep"
Standing by the fireplace in one of the many guest rooms of Arrow House, Tommy flicked the ash from his cigarette into the flames, welcoming the radiating burn from the orange glow under his calloused skin. He too had become accustomed to pain in your wake. Inviting it in like an old friend to feel something, anything that would make him feel alive again and not the emptiness that had encompassed him.
" Do you think she knows?" A voice alerted him as the door opened and Tommy lifted his head.
" What do you want?" Tommy huffed, turning his eyes back to the roaring fire and away from the Governess who was now slowly approaching him undoing the buttons of her ivory blouse.
" Do you think she knows about, us?" She asked again, running her hands up the front of his shirt as she leaned in to place her ruby lips to his when Tommy raised his cigarette, taking a long drag before blowing the fumes in her face. With Tommy's blatant annoyance with her unwelcome presence going amiss, she continued her endeavor, sweeping her hands over his torso and down to his belt. " You seem stressed" she said biting her bottom lip, unbuckling the clasp and sliding her hand into his briefs as a scoff left Tommy's lips and he shook his head in disbelief at the sheer brazenness of her actions. " Come on Tommy, let me make you feel good" she said as she stroked his softened cock up and down in her hand, her brow scrunching together in annoyance when her efforts were left in vain, leaving an unenthusiastic, unaroused Tommy smirking down at her. " Fine, have it your way" she smiled kneeling before him as she pulled his briefs down when Tommy's patience grew thin, and he suddenly grabbed her by the chin.
" My wife, the mother of my child, sleeps in the next room" he said clenching his jaw, his anger rapidly rising in response to her blatant disrespect for your presence and the day's events.
" Your wife" she scoffed, grabbing hold of his wrist as his grip tightened. " Is that what you call the woman who couldn't even look after the son she clearly never wanted?"
" Don't you dare fucking speak of her like that again, do you hear me?!" Tommy snapped, pushing her face away, causing her to stumble backwards onto the hardwood floors.
" Just like that then. She comes back and it's all over? " she said standing up, trying to compose herself from the embarrassment of Tommy's rejection.
" Just like that" Tommy replied, throwing his hand out and the burnt cigarette into the fire as he stormed past her heading for the door when she grabbed his arm.
" It was me who kept you company all the nights she abandoned you because she couldn't, cope. Me alone" she seethed, mocking you of the torment you had endured.
" What?..." Tommy laughed shaking his head as he looked down at her in disgust. " You thought you could replace my wife, eh?" Tommy said as he closed the gap between them, now inches from her face. " Sweetheart, you were just a fuck" he whispered in her ear as the Governess face twisted in fury, and she pushed past him storming to the door. " Don't think I don't know what your poisonous mind wants. You've long outstayed your welcome. Pack your things and be gone by the morning" Tommy said lighting another cigarette as the Governess span back around to confront him once again. He needed to be rid of her and quick, before you, his wife found out about his lapse in judgment with the most unsavory of women.
" You seem to have forgotten Tommy" she said as her lips curled into a triumphant smile. " I signed a contract written by you that's deadline doesn't end for another six months. And If the terms of that clause are not met. Well..." she said smirking as she crossed her arms, ready to deliver what she felt would have Tommy suddenly change his mind. " I'll go to the police, and spill all your little secrets"
" I own the fucking police love" Tommy laughed taking a drag of his cigarette, her threats but a mere annoying natter in his ear than anything worthy of his attention.
" Oh yes, you're very protected aren't you Tommy? Your dealings go as far up as Winston Churchill himself. What would the papers make of that? A man of government working with a razor gang?" she said with a giggle as Tommy's head snapped to her. "You really should have kept your correspondences out of sight while you had me bent over your desk, fucking your grief away" she spat opening the door as Tommy followed suit, furious his dealings and the business associates he wished to keep in tact, and away from prying eyes were now in jeopardy of falling apart over a few quick shags.
" Mrs Shelby, good evening" the Governess smirked, doing the buttons of her blouse up as you shut the nursery door behind you and she sauntered past.
"Y/N..." Tommy said as he came to an abrupt stop whilst you stood there in silence, yours eyes darting from his unbuckled belt to the sheepish look in his eyes not even he, the master of deception could mask.
Frances was right. Many things had changed in Arrow House. Many things.
PART THREE
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romaritimeharbor · 1 month
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BLEED. — in which the Knave attends to her wounded little sibling.
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— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injuries & blood, descriptions of violence, implied murder. 1.4k words.
— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. arlecchino & younger sibling!reader. reader is a member of the fatui. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). arlecchino is referred to using her real name.
— author's notes. arle <3
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       "Oh, you— you came."
       Their surprise was evident, written all over their features as they stared up at the Harbinger. The eerie, echoing click of her heels cut through the silence that, upon her entry, had befallen the Fatui's medics. The microexpressions on her face—brows furrowed inwards, gaze focused on nothing else but them, and lips pointed vaguely downwards—promised a fate far worse than death for anyone who dared to interrupt her.
       Arlecchino was a calm, even-tempered woman...
       ...That is, she was a calm and even-tempered woman when her beloved little sibling was both safe and well. However, the blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around the lower half of their torso made it clear that they were not well. Safe, yes, but well? That, they most certainly were not.
       Her tall stance cast a shadow over their body. Perhaps if they were anyone else, they would currently be fearing for their life... but as they gazed up at her with a meek smile, it occured to them that they were definitely concerned (though undoubtedly in a far more lighthearted way than any other person would be).
       "You look so scary like this," they giggled timidly, snapping their gaze away and looking anywhere but at her. Subconsciously, their fingers fidgeted with the blanket draped over their legs. "Don't be mad... I messed up a bit. You know. Things— things happen..."
       Arlecchino sighed, cutting them off: "Are you wounded anywhere else, [Name]?"
       "No. Just there."
       "I see," she muttered thoughtfully, rolling up her sleeves. The inky darkness of her curse pulsed and spread, crawling further up her arms than it usually did—they couldn't help but frown slightly. Nonetheless, they said nothing of it. She would surely brush them off and tell them to worry more about themselves if they did.
       Arlecchino turned to the nervous agents in the room; the second they did, everyone immediately tried to appear busy, whipping their bodies away from the direction of the Knave and her baby sibling with such speed that it surely gave a few of them whiplash. "You all are dismissed."
       'Get out. Now.'
       With polite acknowledgments to her unspoken command, heads bowing to the Fourth, the Fatui's medics were quick to leave, urgency evident in their speedy steps. Anything they had been working on was long forgotten and left behind; certainly, the soldiers were unconcerned with their work. If anything, the only thing they were concerned with was getting away from Arlecchino. It wasn't very difficult to understand why.
       No agent wanted to so much as imagine what might happen if they were to somehow invoke her fury, especially now of all times.
       Once the final agent had left, and the heavy double doors shut—shockingly without any echo; perhaps the medics were afraid that even closing the door forcibly enough would agitate the Harbinger—their eyes shifted upwards.
       "Peruere..." they murmured softly, straightening their spine somewhat and removing the blanket from their legs so that they could gingerly swing them over the side of the bed. They wished not to agitate their wound further—it still throbbed and ached, so they knew that one incorrect move would render them doubled over in pain. Their elder sister took notice of their enhanced caution.
       "Did they give you any medication yet?" Arlecchino—Peruere, rather, inquired. She turned away from them briefly, speedily shuffling through the medical supplies on a nearby table. Scissors, gauze, antibacterial ointment...
       "They tried, but nothing worked... well enough, that is. My fever has gone down since I arrived and it hurts slightly less, but it just hurts far too much for any of their weaker painkillers to be effective. This base isn't well-equipped to handle wounds like this."
       Even breathing was a chore, really; each time their chest rose and fell, painful sparks clawed through their skin, originating at the gash in their side.
       "Hm." Her face twisted and soured somewhat. "...I suppose I have no choice but to speak to the Doctor once we return to the Motherland, then."
       Peruere then began thoroughly scrubbing her hands with special attention to the underside of her nails in one of the medical sinks, as to ensure that she did not cause any kind of infection to fester in their wound.
       Their breath hitched, and they immediately went on to frantically ask, "Aren't you busy? You don't have to come with me. I can return by myself, it really isn't a big deal... even if that means talking to him—"
       "No." Her eyes shifted to their direction (and for a moment, she couldn't help but think that they looked a little bit like a kicked puppy—dejected and pouty, as if they had somehow upset her). The Knave's tone softened slightly. "No. I do not trust the Doctor around you, nor do I trust these agents to ensure your safety. You are injured. I am the only one who can ensure no harm will befall you."
       "I can defend myself," they asserted. "I'm your sibling, you know."
       "I have no doubt that you can," she softly assured, drying her hands with a clean towel. "However, at the moment, you are in no condition to fight."
       With that, she collected the necessary items and walked back towards their bed. Setting all but the scissors aside, she kneeled down, and began cutting away at the gauze.
       "Did they clean your wound?"
       "Yes."
       She hummed in ackowledgement.
       Peruere's gaze softened somewhat at the sight of their wound—still wet with blood, the perimeter of the wound lined in matte crimson. She observed the way their stomach heaved with each breath.
       Scorching flames burned in her veins. Had she not known any better, she would resolve to deliver a fate far worse than death to whoever did this, to personally escort them straight to the lowest circle of hell and splatter their guts across the floor.
       (She awaited and anticipated the day that the Doctor somehow, in some way, brought harm to her sibling. Should that day ever arrive, she would finally have a reason, an excuse, to reunite him and the previous Knave.
       Peruere was patient. She could wait.)
       ...She did know better, however, and her sibling was just about as much of a force as she was.
       Whoever did this was certainly already well-acquainted with the devil.
       After squeezing some of the antibacterial ointment onto her fingertips, she gingerly spread it across the area of their wound.
       They grimaced somewhat, body instinctively snapping away from her hands. Peruere's freehand shot out to grab their hip with enough pressure to keep them in place but not enough to hurt them any further.
       "Shh. Be still."
       "But it stings," they whined, shooting her an accusatory glance; there was a glimmer of mischief in their glazed eyes, however, and she immediately understood that whatever they were going to accuse her of was unserious in its nature. "You're making it hurt on purpose."
       At that, the Harbinger rolled her eyes. It was clear that there was no true agitation behind the gesture.
       "No, it doesn't, and no, I assure you that I am not," she replied calmly, continuing to spread the ointment to ensure that every part of the injury was adequately lathered. "I put nothing on it that would make it hurt. Don't be dramatic."
       "Ahh... you're so mean, Per..." they sighed dramatically. "So terribly mean to your beloved, wounded baby sibling~"
       She chose not to feed into their mischief. Instead, she began winding the gauze around their body. Once she felt that it was properly wrapped—covered with enough layers to keep dirt and debris out of their flesh and blood—she pulled. "Is this too tight?"
       A soft hum rose from their throat as they inhaled as to ensure that it really wasn't too tight, even when they breathed deeply. "No. The pressure helps with the pain, actually."
       The Harbinger nodded, securing the end of the gauze. She then rose—though not fully, and rather bent at the waist somewhat to meet them at eye-level. The hand that was void of any residue from the cream softly carressed their face.
       Her pupils bore into theirs, thumb rubbing back and forth across their cheekbone. She was mindful as to avoid scratching them with her nail. Though she often told others not to gaze into her eyes for too long—'What you see may not be very pleasant,' she would say—they seemed to be an exception.
       In her eyes, as most do, they saw destruction, death, and madness. In them, it did not induce fear. It made them feel safe.
       And perhaps that made them no less mad then their elder sister was.
       That fate, however, was one that they were content with.
       The Knave withdrew, though not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of their head.
       "Rest now. We will depart for Snezhnaya when you awaken again."
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jackcast2021 · 1 month
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Resting in bed with a broken leg and fine fresh pink cast
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blkgirl-writing · 9 months
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Random NSFW Gale of Waterdeep headcanons
TW: mentions of male masterbation, pining, sex, oral, romance, some angst, reader called a woman and implied cis. I recommend listening to touch tank while reading. Please send in requests!
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Gale has been alone, touch starved for many, many years
So for a fact, this man whimpers when you first touch him in a different way. A lingering grab of his arm, a few brushes against his hands, brushing shoulders when sitting next to your camp fire, etc
And he plays it off very well. You’d believe him if it weren’t for the growing tent in that robe
Gale is very much in denial about it all. His own feelings, your feelings
You’d have to clearly paint the picture of you wanting him for Gale to actually act on it
Oh and if you decide to tease him? He’s gonna be thinking about you all night. There’s a lot of emotions there. You’d be his first moral lover in a long, long time
And then he beats himself up over thinking of you as a lover, as if you’d want him like he wants you
Gale grinds onto his bedroll in his sleep. Something you noticed after waking up in the middle of the night
But how you and Gale get to fucking is not for this random cannons. That’s for another time. How he fucks, however, is for right now
Gale may be behind on his kissing skills but he is certainly still is fantastic at giving head
And he’s so enthusiastic about it too. This man wants to live between your thighs, especially if they’re big, he’s use them exclusively as pillows, no exceptions
His tongue isn’t the only magical thing either
He’s a wizard, he casts spells, he uses his hands, he can learn you inside and out very fast, it only took a few seconds for him to get the perfect rhythm of his fingers pulling inside to get you screaming his name
And he’ll be between your legs until you’re a shaking mess, pressing your legs further apart with his big hands, fingernails digging into your skin. and only then come up for air
Although you don’t get much of a break as he whispers the filthiest sentences right in your ear, using giving you hickeys as pauses from his vulgar tales of what he will do to you
Based on all that you’d probably think he loves getting oral
Because it’s true, Gale loves when you suck his dick. But he likes it softer, not sloppy and fast, but very sensual
His favorite position is anything where he can see your face, he wants to look into your eyes when you cum
Him telling you to hold your orgasm so he can stick his tongue back in you to taste you
If it were up to Gale, y’all would fuck after every and any fight, he can’t tear his eyes off you the whole time
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trendywaifus · 3 months
Text
WEEK THREE
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↳ double trouble
two masters competing and arguing at each other as they fuck you.
transfem! jingliu & skirk x fem! reader
cw: overstimulation, pwp, double penetration, unprotected sex, mind dumbfication, slight blowjob, slight handjob, creampie, size kink
“ who are you to make an assumption about the way i carry myself, blade fodder? “ jingliu growls through gritted teeth, firmly gripping your hair while your lips are wrapped around her cock, sucking her off. skirk rolls her eyes, calmly crossing her arms as your free hand strokes her. “ blade fodder? how laughable. and why so quick to anger? it was merely just an assumption. but, purposely handicapping yourself while waving your sword around seems rather foolish, don’t you think? “ she speaks with a mocking tone, “ hiding behind a mere veil is weak. regardless of whatever trauma you’ve faced in the past, trying to actively avoid it by walking forward blindly is for cowards. “
jingliu spits, “ i should kill you where you stand for that, you—“
“ and hurt the girl in the process? you wouldn’t to do that, no? besides, we agreed on a bet. we’ll fuck her and have her decide who’s better at giving her pleasure. whoever she feel satisfied her the best, is simply better. “ skirk reasons, casting the taller woman a small smirk. jingliu huffs in annoyance, trying her best to not react as your warm tongue brushes against a vein.
jingliu lightly pulls you away and lets go of your hair. “ on your feet, dear. “ she orders softly, in contrast to the aggression she expressed towards skirk a few moments ago. she takes off her blindfold and places it over your eyes, firmly tying the loose ends into a knot. “ wait, why am i—“
“ for the sake of the bet. that’s all you need to know.”(just to avoid bias!)
after a few sounds of shuffling, one of the women lifts you up into her arms with ease, you yelp, hurriedly encircling your legs around her waist. she lines herself with your weeping entrance and slowly sinks you down on her length. you emit a broken moan as she stuffs you full. she grunts as your pussy clenches around her. hands shifts down to the fat of your ass, what felt like claws, slightly digs into your skin.
she holds you steady and snaps her hips forward, spearing you open with her fat cock. “ bounce. “ she whispers lowly in your ear, and you do as you’re told. as she fucks into you with slow, powerful thrusts, you grip her shoulders, trying your best to be in sync with her. due to her sturdy hips, you failed pathetically. the woman sighs in disappointment but says nothing. she speeds up a bit and repeatedly grazing the spongy patches of your walls. “ just like that please. .” you moaned, filthy sounds of squelching fills the air as your slick runs down her shaft and dribbles down onto the floor in thick globs.
her rhythm was so steady and powerful, it was addictive. it made your pussy ache for more no matter how much she stretches you out over and over again. “ more, more. . “ you whined, drool tickling down your chin, already cock–dumb. her breath hitches when she feels your cunt clamp around her again. just for a second, her pace falters before she swiftly recovers and keeps going at her previous pace.
“ what are you doing, you impatient fool? i’m not done with her yet, wait your turn. “ the woman grumbles as another body presses up against your back. “ don’t you hear her begging for more, you bottom dweller? “ the breathy voice, who you now know is jingliu, barks. skirk, who’s currently fucking you, scoffs, grinding her cock into your cunt. “ hmm, i wonder why she’s begging for more, you poor, miserable mortal. you should of kept that blindfold on. “
“ i’m just itching to strike you down with my blade once all of this is over. “ jingliu says harshly, pushing her long length inside your occupied pussy, stretching you out even more than you’d imagine. you mewled loudly, on the verge of squirting everywhere. “ isn’t this a pleasant surprise? she can take two at once. “ skirk mumbles with amusement, fucking you in her own pace while jingliu’s is aimed and fast. “ and yet, she can take mine better. “ jingliu remarks, snarky.
“ simply perish, mortal. “
“ ah, if only it was that easy, you abomination.”
“ extremely ironic coming from you. “
god, you were so out of it. you have two women at each other’s throats while they fucked you dumb. you could tell skirk was getting increasingly frustrated as her thrusts became fast and unforgiving. cacophony of moans spills from your lips, the overwhelming tension in your belly proved unbearable when jingliu matches with skirk’s speed and intensity. your eyes rolls to your back of your head as you violently squirted all over their cocks and made a mess on the floor.
“ how messy. “ skirks comments, not showing signs of slowing down as she’s too busy competing with the opposing swordmaster. “ just like your sorry excuse of an apprentice. “ the sword master hisses, chest panting heavily from your pussy greedily swallowing her cock. “ is your apprentice just as arrogant and weak like you are? did you teach that boy your techniques with a blindfold over your eyes too?” skirk questions sharply, glaring up at the taller woman in front of her.
due to overstimulation, their voices became a blur. after a few minutes of back and forth, jingliu was the first to finish inside you. she continues to fuck your gushing hole despite thick loads of cum flowing out of you. not long after, skirk releases as well and refused to pull out until she was sure completely she was milked dry.
“ now, tell us who was better. choose wisely. “ jingliu whispers in your ear, sounding almost impatient. after a moment without a response, skirk and jingliu was quick to notice how boneless your body felt against theirs. skirk sighs, realizing you passed out. “ it seems like we were too busy arguing, we forgot about this one. “
well, once you wake up, you’ll give them an answer and this time, they’ll focus more on you.
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blackopals-world · 1 year
Text
I've Found Home
Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast
(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Implied relationship
She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.
Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.
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Move on.
Forget.
There was no going back.
You chose this.
You wanted this.
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After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.
A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.
She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.
People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.
Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.
Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.
He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.
Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.
...
Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.
The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.
The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.
Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.
...
...
...
Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.
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Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.
Yuu certainly didn't.
She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.
It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?
She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.
But she missed them...
Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.
(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)
When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.
A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.
She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.
She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.
Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.
Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.
She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.
The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.
Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.
He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.
"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.
The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.
"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.
He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.
"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.
But children don't understand these things.
"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.
She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.
After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.
Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.
"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.
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He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.
For a writer she struggled to find one.
Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess
Only one name stuck
Grimm
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"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.
Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"
Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.
Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.
She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.
Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.
"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.
"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.
" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.
When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.
"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.
"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.
"What about the lost princess?"
"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."
"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"
"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."
"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."
"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek
"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.
When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?
Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.
She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.
Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.
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simpforfandom231 · 3 months
Text
Numb leg
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A/N: enjoy this ;) warning: filthy smut sorry not sorry
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As the sun dipped low over the ancient city of Petra, casting long shadows across the rose-red sandstone, Reneé Rapp and her girlfriend Y/n stood in awe before the magnificent façade of the Treasury. The intricately carved columns and ornate details seemed to hold stories of a bygone era, whispering secrets of civilizations long past.
Y/n's eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the breathtaking sight. "Can you believe we're actually here, Reneé? It's like something out of a dream."
Reneé smiled, her heart swelling with love for the woman by her side. "Yeah, it's pretty incredible. And tomorrow, I'll be performing at the arena just a stone's throw away from here."
Y/n grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I can't wait to see you up on that stage, babe. You're going to absolutely slay."
As they wandered through the ancient city, marveling at its beauty, Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. "Hey, Reneé, do you think we could hike up to the High Place of Sacrifice before we head back?"
Reneé's brow furrowed with concern. She knew that Y/n had been struggling with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), a condition that often left her fatigued and in pain. "Are you sure, love? You seemed pretty exhausted from the hike to the treasury already."
Y/n waved off her concern with a smile. "I'll be fine, Reneé. I've been looking forward to this hike for ages. Besides, I'll have you to help me if I need it."
Reneé couldn't resist Y/n's enthusiasm, despite her worries. "Alright, let's do it. But promise me you'll let me know if you start feeling unwell, okay?"
Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise. Now, let's go make some memories."
Together, hand in hand, they embarked on the journey to the High Place of Sacrifice. The trail wound its way through rugged terrain, the ancient stones beneath their feet whispering tales of centuries past. As they climbed higher and higher, Y/n couldn't contain her excitement, while Reneé kept a watchful eye on her beloved.
"Are you doing okay, Y/n?" Reneé asked, concern lacing her voice.
Y/n grinned, though she could feel the fatigue beginning to creep into her limbs. "I'm hanging in there, thanks to you. This view is so worth it."
Reneé squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We'll take it slow. We don't have to rush."
With renewed determination, they pressed on, the promise of the breathtaking vista spurring them forward.
As they continued their ascent up the rocky trail, Y/n's determination was palpable, each step a testament to her resilience in the face of adversity. Reneé couldn't help but admire her girlfriend's strength, even as she noticed the telltale signs of fatigue beginning to take their toll.
"Are you sure you're okay, Y/n?" Reneé asked, her voice laced with concern.
Y/n flashed her a reassuring smile, though she could feel the familiar tingling sensation creeping up her leg. "I'm fine, Reneé. Just a little numbness, nothing I can't handle."
Reneé knew better than to push, but her worry gnawed at her insides. She had spent countless nights poring over medical journals, trying to understand every aspect of Y/n's condition. FND was a complex disorder, its symptoms often unpredictable and debilitating. But through it all, Y/n had remained steadfast in her determination to live life to the fullest, refusing to let her diagnosis define her.
As they climbed higher, the air grew thinner, the path more treacherous. Y/n's pace began to slow, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Reneé could see the strain etched on her face, the lines of pain creasing her brow.
"Maybe we should take a break," Reneé suggested gently, her heart aching at the sight of Y/n's struggle.
Y/n shook her head stubbornly, though she knew Reneé was right. "I can't stop now, Reneé. We're almost there."
But Reneé wasn't about to let her girlfriend push herself to the point of exhaustion. With a gentle hand, she guided Y/n to a nearby boulder, urging her to sit and catch her breath.
"You've done amazing, love," Reneé said softly, her voice filled with pride. "But it's okay to take a break. We'll get there when we get there."
Y/n leaned into Reneé's embrace, grateful for her unwavering support. "I'm sorry, Reneé. I just... I hate feeling like I'm holding you back."
Reneé's heart broke at the sadness in Y/n's eyes. "You could never hold me back, Y/n. You're the strongest person I know, and I'm so lucky to have you in my life."
As they sat on the boulder, catching their breath and taking in the panoramic view before them, Y/n couldn't shake the frustration bubbling up inside her. "I hate this disorder, Reneé," she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I hate how it makes me feel weak and helpless."
Reneé's heart ached at the pain in Y/n's words. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Y/n's face. "I know, love. I hate it too. But you're not weak, Y/n. You're one of the strongest people I know."
Y/n's eyes brimmed with tears as she leaned into Reneé's touch. "I just don't want to disappoint you, Reneé. I don't want to be a burden."
Reneé cupped Y/n's face in her hands, her gaze unwavering. "You could never disappoint me, Y/n. And you're not a burden. We're in this together, remember?"
As they sat in companionable silence, the pain in Y/n's leg began to intensify, a sharp ache radiating through her muscles. Reneé noticed the discomfort etched on her face and reached into her backpack, pulling out a granola bar.
"Here, love," Reneé said, offering the snack to Y/n. "This should give you a little energy boost."
Y/n accepted the granola bar gratefully, taking a few bites before tucking it away for later. "Thanks, Reneé. You always know how to take care of me."
Reneé smiled, her heart swelling with love for the woman beside her. "It's what I'm here for, Y/n. Now, let's finish this hike together. We're almost there."
With renewed determination, they rose to their feet, the summit tantalizingly close on the horizon. Each step was a testament to their strength and resilience, a testament to the unbreakable bond that held them together.
As they reached the summit of the High Place of Sacrifice, a sense of accomplishment washed over Y/n, mixed with relief and a touch of exhaustion. Reneé, ever prepared, pulled out a self-cooler from her backpack, knowing exactly what to do next. Y/n smiled as she watched her girlfriend set up the cooler, already familiar with the routine.
"Thanks, babe," Y/n said, her voice filled with gratitude. "You always think of everything."
Reneé flashed her a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Anything for you, my love."
As Y/n strapped on her stabilizer, Reneé knelt beside her, helping to adjust the straps and set the harness to the softest level. "There you go, love," Reneé said, her touch gentle as she secured the stabilizer in place. "This should give you some extra support on the way down."
Y/n leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Reneé's cheek. "You're so cute when you take care of me, you know that?"
Reneé chuckled, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. "You're not so bad yourself, sweetheart."
With the stabilizer in place and the harness adjusted, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the descent. "Alright, let's do this."
Reneé offered her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand tightly. "You've got this, Y/n. And I'll be right here beside you every step of the way."
As they made their way down the unsteady trail, Y/n felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. Despite the stabilizer and Reneé's constant support, each step felt like a precarious dance on the edge of a cliff. Reneé walked in front, her presence a comforting reassurance that if Y/n were to fall, it would be into her waiting arms.
Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at her insides. She knew the consequences of not listening to her body, of pushing herself too far. But the desire to experience life to the fullest, to explore every corner of the world with Reneé by her side, often outweighed the warnings of her own limitations.
As they descended further down the trail, Y/n's leg began to grow numb, a familiar tingling sensation spreading through her muscles. She stumbled, her foot slipping on a loose stone, and before she knew it, she was tumbling to the ground.
Reneé's heart leaped into her throat as she watched Y/n fall, her instincts kicking into overdrive. She rushed to her side, her hands gentle but firm as she helped Y/n to her feet. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Y/n nodded, though she could feel the frustration welling up inside her. "I'm fine, Reneé. Just a little shaken."
But Reneé could see through the facade, the pain and disappointment written plainly on Y/n's face. She sighed, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "You need to start listening to your body, Y/n. You know what happens when you push yourself too hard."
Y/n hung her head, unable to meet Reneé's gaze. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, Reneé. I just... I hate feeling like I'm missing out on life."
Reneé's expression softened, her heart aching for the woman she loved. She reached into her backpack, pulling out a water bottle and a snack bar, before handing the bag to Y/n. "Here, take this. I'll carry you down."
Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, knowing full well that Reneé was angry with her. "But Reneé, I can—"
Reneé cut her off with a stern look. "No arguments, Y/n. I don't want to hear it. You need to conserve your energy, and I'm not going to let you push yourself any further."
With a resigned sigh, Y/n accepted the backpack, feeling the weight of Reneé's disappointment heavy on her shoulders. But as Reneé hoisted her onto her back, her arms strong and steady, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the unwavering support of the woman she loved.
As Reneé carried Y/n down the trail, her frustration simmered just beneath the surface, her muscles straining with the effort. She muttered to herself in exasperation, her mind racing with thoughts of how Y/n's stubbornness had once again landed them in this situation.
Y/n clung to Reneé tightly, her arms wrapped securely around her girlfriend's neck. "Sorry about this, Reneé," she said softly, her voice tinged with guilt.
Reneé sighed, her irritation momentarily forgotten as she felt Y/n's warmth against her back. "It's okay, love. Just focus on holding on tight, alright?"
Y/n couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, despite the pain throbbing in her leg. "Well, at least I have a great view from up here," she teased, her fingers tracing the outline of Reneé's arms peeking out from beneath her tank top.
Reneé couldn't help but smirk at Y/n's attempt to lighten the mood, though her frustration still lingered in the back of her mind. "You're lucky I love you," she replied with a playful roll of her eyes.
As they continued their descent, Y/n felt the numbness in her leg spread, a cold, tingling sensation creeping up from her toes to her hip. She knew what it meant—a sign that she had pushed herself too far, ignored the warnings of her body once again.
"Reneé," Y/n said softly, her voice trembling with fear. "My leg... it's numb."
Reneé's heart sank as she felt the panic rising in Y/n's voice. She tightened her grip on Y/n's legs, trying to steady herself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "It's okay, Y/n. Just hang on tight. We'll get through this together."
With each step, the weight of Y/n's limp body grew heavier on Reneé's back, the strain beginning to take its toll. But she refused to falter, refusing to let her own frustration get in the way of helping the woman she loved.
And as they finally reached the base of the trail, the exhaustion evident in every line of Reneé's body, Y/n felt a sense of relief wash over her. Despite the challenges they had faced, they had made it through, their love for each other shining bright even in the darkest moments.
As Reneé gently lowered Y/n to the ground, their eyes met in silent understanding.
As Y/n lay on the ground, her leg completely numb and useless beneath her, Reneé's heart clenched with worry. She knelt beside her girlfriend, her hands trembling with fear and frustration. "Y/n, we need to get you help," she said urgently, her voice tinged with desperation.
But Y/n shook her head stubbornly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I just need a minute, Reneé. I'll be okay."
Reneé's patience snapped, her irritation boiling over as she watched Y/n struggle to stand. "Enough, Y/n," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to get you out of here."
With a heavy heart, Reneé surveyed their surroundings, her eyes landing on a group of jeeps parked nearby. She knew that they were used to transport tourists back to the entrance of the park, a quick and efficient way to navigate the rugged terrain.
Reneé's anger flared as she realized that Y/n's stubbornness had put them in this situation. She couldn't understand why her girlfriend insisted on pushing herself to the brink, ignoring the warnings of her own body.
"Get up, Y/n," Reneé said, her voice cold and clipped. "We're getting in one of those jeeps and going back to the hotel."
Y/n's eyes widened in surprise at the steel in Reneé's voice. She knew that Reneé was done with her stubbornness, done with watching her push herself beyond her limits.
As they climbed into one of the jeeps, Reneé's mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead. She knew every symptom of Y/n's disorder, knew that they just needed to get her back to the hotel so she could lay down and rest.
As the jeep rumbled to life and began the journey back to civilization, Reneé held Y/n's hand tightly, her heart heavy with worry.
As they approached the entrance of the park, the hotel mere steps away, Y/N could feel the tension radiating from Reneé. Knowing her girlfriend well, Y/N decided it was best not to push any further, silently offering her support as they made their way back.
Meanwhile, Reneé muttered to herself, her thoughts consumed with what needed to be done once they reached the hotel room. "I need the cool pack for the pain shocks in the knee, the electroshock travel thing to stimulate her neurological nerves, and the pulsing thing to stimulate the brain to signal the leg again," she murmured, her voice a mix of determination and concern.
Y/N gave Reneé a reassuring smile, appreciating her partner's meticulous care and attention to detail. Reneé always had those medical supplies on hand, just in case of emergencies like this one. She had even taken courses to officially carry the necessary equipment and provide care to Y/N in case of need.
As they entered their hotel room, Reneé wasted no time in helping Y/n to lay down on the bed, her movements gentle and precise. She could see the discomfort etched on Y/n's face, a mixture of pain and frustration.
"Let me help you get more comfortable, love," Reneé said softly, her voice soothing as she began to unfasten Y/n's shoes. "I think it would be best if we changed you into shorts. It'll make it easier to place the electrodes on your leg."
Y/n nodded in agreement, grateful for Reneé's practicality. Despite her dislike for the electroshock therapy, she knew it was necessary to help stimulate her nerves and alleviate the pain.
As Reneé helped Y/n change into shorts, she couldn't help but notice the grimace of discomfort that crossed her girlfriend's face. "I hate these electroshocks," Y/n muttered, her voice filled with frustration. "They're so painful."
Reneé sighed, her heart aching for Y/n's suffering. "I know, love. But they're helping to give small impulses to your nerves, to encourage them to start working again. We just have to keep trying."
With Y/n settled in shorts, Reneé set to work placing the electrodes on her leg, her movements confident and precise. She knew exactly where to position each sticker, ensuring maximum effectiveness of the electroshock therapy.
"It won't be long now, love," Reneé said softly, her voice filled with reassurance as she activated the device. "Just try to relax and let the shocks do their work."
Y/n closed her eyes, trying to focus on the rhythmic pulses coursing through her leg. Despite the discomfort, she knew that Reneé was right—the electroshocks were a necessary part of her treatment, a small price to pay for the hope of relief from the constant pain.
As the therapy continued, Y/n could feel a faint tingling sensation spreading through her leg, a sign that the nerves were responding to the stimulation. She let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Reneé's unwavering support and expertise.
"Thank you, Reneé," Y/n murmured, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Reneé smiled tenderly, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead. "You'll never have to find out, love. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
As Y/n lay on the bed, Reneé watched her with a mixture of love and concern, her heart swelling with admiration for her resilience. But as her gaze lingered on Y/n's hand, she noticed the cut from her fall, the dirt still embedded in the wound.
Reneé's concern deepened as she saw the injury, her protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Without a moment's hesitation, she retrieved some pure water, disinfectant, a cloth, a pair of tweezers, and a plaster from her suitcase.
"Let me take care of that for you, love," Reneé said gently, her voice filled with reassurance as she approached the bed.
Y/n nodded gratefully, trusting Reneé to tend to her injury with the same care and precision she had shown with the electroshock therapy.
Reneé began by carefully cleaning the wound with the pure water, gently dabbing away the dirt and debris. She then applied the disinfectant, her touch gentle but thorough as she ensured the cut was properly cleaned.
Y/n winced slightly at the sting of the disinfectant, but she knew it was necessary to prevent infection. She squeezed Reneé's hand in silent gratitude, drawing strength from her unwavering support.
With the wound clean, Reneé used the tweezers to carefully remove any remaining dirt or debris, her movements precise and deliberate. Once satisfied that the cut was free from contamination, she applied a plaster to protect it from further irritation.
"There, all done," Reneé said softly, her eyes meeting Y/n's with a mixture of tenderness and relief. "You should be good as new in no time."
As the electroshock machine signaled the end of the session with a soft beep, Reneé carefully peeled off the stickers from Y/n's leg, her movements gentle and precise. Y/n, though still not fully feeling her leg, trusted in Reneé's expertise, knowing that her girlfriend was doing everything she could to help.
"Thank you, Reneé," Y/n said softly, a small smile playing on her lips as she shifted slightly on the chair in the bathroom.
Reneé returned the smile, her eyes filled with warmth and affection. "You're welcome, love. Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"
With gentle guidance, Reneé helped Y/n to the bathroom, settling her onto the chair with care. She then proceeded to undress Y/n, her touch tender and respectful as she ensured her girlfriend's comfort and dignity.
Once Y/n was settled, Reneé fetched another chair and placed it inside the shower, making sure it was stable and safe. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Reneé decided to join Y/n in the shower, knowing that her presence would bring comfort and support.
As the warm water cascaded down, Reneé stepped into the shower beside Y/n, her wet skin glistening in the light. Y/n couldn't help but stare, captivated by the sight of Reneé's beauty and strength.
Reneé caught Y/n's gaze and smirked teasingly, the corners of her lips quirking up in amusement. "Like what you see, love?" she teased, her voice laced with playful affection.
Y/n blushed furiously, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. "I, um... well, yes," she stammered, unable to tear her eyes away from Reneé's captivating presence.
Reneé chuckled softly, her heart swelling with love for her shy girlfriend. "You're adorable, Y/n," she said fondly, reaching out to gently wash Y/n's body with the sponge.
As Reneé continued to help Y/n wash, their laughter and teasing filling the air, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and happiness she shared with Reneé. And as they stood together under the warm embrace of the shower, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, Y/n knew that with Reneé by her side, she could conquer anything that life threw her way.
As the warm water cascaded down, Reneé stood between Y/n's legs, gently washing her girlfriend's body with the sponge. Y/n couldn't resist the temptation, boldly planting kisses along Reneé's thighs, her lips trailing a path of warmth and desire.
Reneé let out soft noises of pleasure, her heart racing with excitement at Y/n's boldness. As Y/n's kisses grew more insistent, Reneé found herself unable to resist, her hands instinctively tangling in Y/n's hair, urging her closer.
Y/n's hands began to roam teasingly over Reneé's legs and ass, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from her girlfriend. Reneé tried to playfully ignore the sensations coursing through her body, focusing instead on washing Y/n with care and attention.
"Y/n," Reneé murmured, her voice husky with desire as she continued to wash her girlfriend's body. "We should... focus on getting you cleaned up."
But Y/n couldn't resist the temptation, her hands exploring every inch of Reneé's skin with eager anticipation. "I can't help it, Reneé," Y/n whispered, her breath hot against Reneé's skin. "You drive me wild."
Reneé let out a soft laugh, her heart swelling with love for her daring girlfriend. "You're something else, Y/n," she said fondly, unable to resist the urge to lean in and capture Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss.
As the water continued to cascade down around them, Reneé resumed washing Y/N, her touch gentle yet firm. Y/N couldn't resist the temptation, her hands still lingering between Reneé's legs, feeling the heat and desire radiating from her girlfriend's body.
Sensing Reneé's arousal, Y/N teased playfully, her movements slow and deliberate. Reneé, unable to resist the temptation, softly opened her legs a bit more, inviting Y/N's touch.
Y/N's fingers danced over Reneé's skin, exploring every curve and contour with eager anticipation. As the desire between them grew, Reneé couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft sigh, she sank down into Y/N's lap, her lips seeking out the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck.
Y/N gasped in pleasure as Reneé's lips trailed hot kisses along her neck, igniting a fire of desire within her. Feeling Reneé's need for friction, Y/N eagerly responded, her hands moving to grip Reneé's hips as she began to grind against her lap.
Reneé moaned softly, the sensation of Y/N's body against hers sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. Lost in the moment, she surrendered herself to the passion, moving in rhythm with Y/N's movements, seeking the ultimate release.
As Y/N's fingers trailed down Reneé's body, igniting a fiery passion within her, Reneé couldn't suppress the sounds of pleasure escaping her lips. With each touch, she felt herself unraveling, lost in the ecstasy of Y/N's touch.
"Babe, please," Reneé gasped, her voice filled with urgency and desire as she begged for more. "I need you."
Y/N responded eagerly to Reneé's plea, showering her with love bites on her chest and teasing her sensitive nipples. "You're so beautiful, Reneé," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she lavished praise upon her girlfriend.
Despite the lingering numbness in her leg, Y/N was determined to keep the passion alive. With each movement, she felt the desire building between them, fueling their connection with an intense heat.
Feeling Reneé's need for more, Y/N reached for the strap-on in the cabinet, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Are you ready for this, babe?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.
Reneé nodded eagerly, her eyes blazing with desire as she got on her knees in front of the strap-on. With trembling hands, Y/N secured the harness around her waist, the anticipation building with each passing moment.
As Reneé knelt between Y/N's legs, the anticipation hung heavy in the air. With a playful smirk, Y/N watched as Reneé took the strap-on into her mouth, her gaze filled with desire and longing.
Feeling a surge of excitement, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to grab Reneé's hair, urging her head deeper as she savored the intoxicating sensation. The sight of Reneé on her knees, pleasuring her with such enthusiasm, sent waves of desire coursing through Y/N's body.
"Keep going, Reneé," Y/N demanded, her voice husky with desire. "I want to feel you, all of you."
Reneé obeyed eagerly, her movements becoming more fervent as she pleasured Y/N with the strap-on. The sound of Y/N's pleasure filled the air, mingling with Reneé's own intoxicating moans.
But Y/N wasn't satisfied with just receiving pleasure. With a hunger in her eyes, she urged Reneé to start playing with herself too, craving the sight of her girlfriend lost in ecstasy.
"Touch yourself, Reneé," Y/N commanded, her voice laced with desire. "I want to see you lose control."
Reneé complied eagerly, her hands moving to explore her own body as she continued to pleasure Y/N with the strap-on. The sight of Reneé pleasuring herself while pleasuring Y/N sent a rush of excitement coursing through Y/N's veins.
With a playful innocence, Reneé looked up at Y/N and asked, "Can I sit in your lap on the strap-on, babe?"
Y/N's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded eagerly, unable to resist the thought of having Reneé straddle her in such an intimate way. "Of course, love," Y/N replied, her voice filled with anticipation.
But before Reneé could even lower herself onto Y/N's lap, Y/N's mouth found its way to Reneé's wet center, eager to taste her lover's desire. Reneé let out a gasp of pleasure as Y/N's tongue delved deeper, sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her body.
Reneé couldn't help but push Y/N's head deeper, craving more of the intoxicating sensation. With each flick of Y/N's tongue, Reneé felt herself teetering on the edge of bliss, her body humming with desire.
Feeling emboldened by Reneé's response, Y/N began to eat her out with fervent enthusiasm, her fingers working in tandem to bring Reneé to the brink of ecstasy. The sensation of Y/N's mouth and fingers driving her wild with pleasure, Reneé's moans filled the air, mingling with the sound of the rushing water from the shower.
With Y/N's tongue expertly driving her wild with pleasure, Reneé couldn't hold back any longer. With a gasp of ecstasy, she practically rode Y/N's face, her body trembling with desire.
Feeling the intensity of Reneé's passion, Y/N eagerly held her lover up to stand by her ass, their bodies pressed close as they reveled in the heat of the moment. Y/N's fingers danced across Reneé's back, scratching just enough to send shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.
Reneé moaned in response to Y/N's touch, the sensation driving her wild with desire. With a commanding tone, Y/N urged Reneé to ride the strap-on, eager to fulfill her lover's every desire.
Reneé obeyed without hesitation, lowering herself onto the strap-on with a shudder of anticipation. Y/N wasted no time in taking control, her fingers moving to play with Reneé's clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.
With each thrust, Reneé felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, the pleasure building to an overwhelming crescendo. And as Y/N's fingers worked their magic, Reneé couldn't hold back any longer, her body convulsing with pleasure as she reached the peak of ecstasy.
With a cry of release, Reneé collapsed into Y/N's arms, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace.
Y/N held Reneé tightly, her arms wrapped around her lover as they basked in the euphoria of their shared passion. Reneé, still feeling the lingering effects of their intimate encounter, shuddered slightly as she moved, the sensation of the dildo still palpable.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the sight of Reneé, her body glistening with water and flushed with pleasure. "You're so beautiful, Reneé," Y/N murmured, her voice filled with adoration.
Reneé chuckled softly, her fingers trailing teasingly along Y/N's skin. "As much as I love this view, babe, I think it's time we moved to the bed," she said playfully, her eyes sparkling with desire.
Y/N nodded eagerly, her heart racing with anticipation as Reneé helped her out of the shower and laid her down on the bed. With each touch, Y/N's desire grew, her body responding eagerly to Reneé's gentle caresses.
As Y/N lay on the bed, growing wet with anticipation, Reneé retrieved the strap-on and expertly put it on, a wicked grin playing on her lips. With a seductive glint in her eye, she crawled onto the bed, moving to straddle Y/N's hips.
"You ready for round two, babe?" Reneé whispered huskily, her voice laced with desire.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she nodded eagerly, her body tingling with anticipation. "More than ready, Reneé," she replied, her voice filled with longing.
As Reneé began to jerk the strap-on, her movements smooth and controlled, Y/N's fingers eagerly found their way to Reneé's nipples, teasing and flicking them gently. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Reneé's body, her breath hitching with each touch.
With a hunger in her eyes, Reneé positioned herself between Y/N's legs, mindful of her still numb leg. As she pushed into Y/N, the sensation of their bodies coming together ignited a fire within them both. Y/N's moans filled the room, growing louder and filthier with each thrust.
Reneé, driven by desire and passion, moved fast and hard, her movements synchronized with Y/N's cries of pleasure. "You feel so good, Y/N," Reneé praised, her voice filled with adoration and longing.
Y/N begged for more, her pleas echoing in the air as she surrendered herself to the pleasure consuming her. Reneé, unable to resist Y/N's desperate cries, removed the strap-on and moved to taste her lover's desire.
With a hunger in her eyes, Reneé began to lick and suck on Y/N's clit, her movements skilled and deliberate. Y/N writhed beneath her touch, lost in the ecstasy of the moment as Reneé's tongue drove her to the brink of bliss.
As Y/N's back arched on the bed, her fingers tangled in Reneé's hair, she pushed her lover deeper, moaning Reneé's name loudly into the air. Pleasure surged through her veins, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.
"Reneé, please," Y/N begged, her voice filled with desperate longing. "I need you."
Reneé, unable to resist Y/N's pleading, felt her own desire surge to new heights. With a hunger in her eyes, she eagerly obliged, her body moving to straddle Y/N's, their hips grinding together in a primal rhythm.
As their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their clits rubbing together in a symphony of pleasure, Y/N and Reneé lost themselves in the intoxicating rush of desire. With each movement, their passion intensified, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume them both.
Moans and cries of pleasure filled the room as they surrendered themselves to the ecstasy of their love, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace.
As Y/n's moans filled the room, punctuated by cries of "yes" repeated like a mantra, Reneé couldn't help but speed up, the intensity of their lovemaking reaching new heights. With each thrust, Reneé threw her head back in ecstasy, lost in the pleasure of their connection.
Suddenly, Y/N's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her. Without warning, she reached her peak, crying out in ecstasy as she came, her release triggered by the sheer intensity of Reneé fucking her senseless.
Reneé, still teetering on the edge of climax, watched with a mix of awe and desire as Y/N surrendered herself to pleasure. But as Y/N's command pierced the air, Reneé knew what she had to do.
As Reneé straddled Y/n's face, her own fingers teasing her sensitive nipples, she felt a surge of desire course through her veins. With each flick of her fingers, pleasure radiated through her body, intensifying the sensations pulsating between her legs.
Y/n, hungry for more, didn't hesitate to oblige, her hands finding their way to Reneé's ass, delivering sharp slaps that sent waves of pleasure reverberating through Reneé's body. Moans and cries filled the room as Y/n devoured Reneé with fervent enthusiasm, her tongue dancing over Reneé's clit with expert precision.
"Beg for it, Reneé," Y/n demanded, her voice husky with desire as she continued to eat out her lover.
Reneé, lost in the throes of passion, could only comply, her cries growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice filled with need. "I need more."
As Y/n continued to pleasure her, Reneé felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With each flick of Y/n's tongue, she felt herself drawing closer to the brink, her body humming with desire.
"I'm close," Reneé moaned, her voice thick with desire as she neared the peak of pleasure.
As Y/n sensed Reneé's desperation for release, she embraced her dominant side, determined to push her lover over the edge. With a firm grip on Reneé's hips, Y/n delivered sharp slaps to Reneé's ass cheeks, the sound echoing in the room as Reneé's moans filled the air.
Feeling the intensity of Y/n's touch, Reneé arched her back, tipping her head back in pleasure as she sought support on Y/n's stomach. The sensation of Y/n's dominance drove her wild with desire, her body trembling with anticipation.
Y/n continued to assert her dominance, her hands roaming over Reneé's body with expert precision. With each touch, Reneé felt herself drawing closer to the brink, her body humming with desire.
Unable to hold back any longer, Reneé felt the tension building within her, the pleasure reaching an unbearable peak. And then, with a cry of ecstasy, she let go, her body convulsing as she released a torrent of pleasure, squirting all over Y/n's face.
As the waves of pleasure washed over her, Reneé collapsed onto the bed, her body spent from the intensity of their lovemaking.
As Reneé experienced her first squirting, Y/N was momentarily stunned, her eyes widening in surprise. It was a new experience for both of them, and while Reneé shuddered from the aftermath, Y/N could see a hint of embarrassment in her eyes.
But Y/N quickly reassured her, wrapping her arms around Reneé and holding her tight. "That was incredible, Reneé," Y/N murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "You're amazing."
Feeling a rush of warmth at Y/N's praise, Reneé buried her face in Y/N's chest, her cheeks flushing with color. "I... I didn't expect that," she admitted softly.
Y/N gently kissed the top of Reneé's head, stroking her hair with tender affection. "It's okay, love," Y/N reassured her. "It's just another beautiful part of you."
With a contented sigh, Reneé pushed herself closer to Y/N, seeking comfort in their embrace. Y/N gladly obliged, spooning Reneé and wrapping the blanket around their naked bodies like a cocoon.
As they lay together in the aftermath of their passionate encounter, Y/N continued to stroke Reneé's hair, their hearts beating in perfect harmony. And as they drifted off to sleep, entwined in each other's arms, they knew that their love would only grow stronger with each passing day.
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cheollipop · 5 months
Text
⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣
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navi | taglist
pairing: choi san x fem!reader
w.c.: 6.5k
genre: mafia au, smut, mutual pining, some fluff, tiny bit of angst, some dark themes, slightly ambiguous ending
In a city where the mere whisper of his name sent shivers of terror through its core, Choi San's barbarous reputation proved powerless to dissuade you from delving deeper, the glint in the feline eyes cast upon you exposing a sliver tenderness hidden beneath the façade of bloodlust.
⚜ warnings: mentioned death/murder (no one significant), insensitivity from all major characters to said murder, san is lowkey psychotic, and an asshole, reader is a badass bitch, gun play (kinda?), service/soft dom!san, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (👎), kinda public sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, creampie, begging, praise, some cockwarming, san gets whiny, he is whipped your honour, not your typical mafia boss ehehe, nicknames (baby, darling; sannie), I believe that's it. ^^
⚜ A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent. who doesn't want a psychotic mafia boss obsessing over their very being? happy reading! ^_^
nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞
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Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.
The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.
“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.
“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.
The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”
San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.
“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.
“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.
Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.
“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”
San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”
He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”
--
Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.
“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.
“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”
His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.
While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.
“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.
“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”
“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”
“—Looking for me?”
A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.
“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.
“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.
Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”
The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.
The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”
To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”
His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”
Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”
He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.
Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.
To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.
But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.
“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”
Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.
Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”
The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”
Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.
“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.
He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”
Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.
If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.
The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”
You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”
Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”
“Not when you look at me the way you do.”
A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.
Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.
His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”
San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.
“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”
The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.
Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”
With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.
He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.
“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.
The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”
His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.
Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of  a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.
Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.
If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.
“How about you be good and fuck me already?”
Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”
Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”
The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.
“Call me by my name.”
It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”
To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”
He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.
“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”
You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.
A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,
“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”
“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”
San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.
“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.
He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.
He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”
You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.
“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off him, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.
“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”
And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”
San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.
“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.
San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”
It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,
“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”
You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.
An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”
The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.
“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”
That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.
You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.
You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”
“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.
“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”
Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silent through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.
San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.
As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.
Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.
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ahhhwomen · 3 months
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Nothing really matters.
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Vampire Empire
Part 3
Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Well this was depressing to write... Anyways, enjoy!
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.
AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+
Summary: You feel numb, what does it matter anymore?
Word Count: 2.1k
Taglist: @thinking1bee
The next time either of them sees you is in one of Natasha’s business meetings a few weeks later.
Back in Carol’s possession, you kneel in the corner of the conference room while Carol raises her voice at anyone with a slight attitude toward her idiotic ideas.
After half an hour, the constant bickering between the blond woman and Natasha’s respective staff members had become background noise.
There is a crinkling of paper as Natasha scuffles her documents around for a moment while deep in thought. The paper is smooth and high quality, her golden rings glide against the white surface, and she traces black lines of information she can recite in her sleep.
To Natasha’s surprise, you had seemed indifferent to her presence, you didn’t even glance at her once during the introduction to today’s meeting.
Following the same line back and forth, the ink smudges and blurs after the seventh round of Natasha's thumb gliding gently on top of the unimportant details.
She had to give credit where credit was due. You were poised and unbothered.
She could not say the same for herself, however.
Ever since she could smell you getting in the elevator with blondie, she kept glancing toward the door, waiting for your arrival. And now, she continuously spares a glance in your direction when she thinks someone talks too loudly or expresses themselves with broad gestures.
It doesn't take long for her to understand you a little better.
Carol changes you.
Your eyes are cast downward, and you hold your head low in a display of obedience. You are sitting on your heels with your hands just out in front of your knees. Your back is strung tight to form a perfect line and the muzzle is only for show. But whereas your posture and attitude would be considered perfection, your eyes are empty.
Natasha’s chair creaks and groans as she rocks back and forth, the leather cushion softens the knockback as her leg bounces against the flooring, unfitting of her usual characteristics, she can’t seem to keep her calm and collected demeanor.
Small tears and wrinkles form, as Natasha tightens her hands against some case report she wrote half-heartedly before bed the previous night. She inhales sharply, her nostrils flaring.
You are still covered in bruises.
They are healing, and so are the once red and angry lines, they are now pinker and more muted. But it’s clear some of them were fresher, it had been close to a month since she had seen you last, yet the color of some were as fresh as a daisy.
Specifically, your face seemed to have been put through the gutter.
Though it was clear that whatever transpired that day hadn’t been repeated, she could still sense in you that Carol wasn’t very light-handed.
She tells herself it is because she pities you for having to go through the blonde’s rage, but there is also something about the two small puncture wounds on your neck that aggravates her.
Her fingers drum against the table in annoyance while she thinks it over, her nails clicking against the resin top of her newly polished conference table.
Pinching the skin between her eyebrows she sighs loudly. Enough so, that the man currently presenting stutters and has to loosen his tie before continuing with a slight tremor to his hands.
She can’t figure it out.
She huffs and readjusts her posture to show she is listening.
Never mind, the little mystery you are, she has business to attend to. With one last glance, she emerges herself back in the matter at hand and makes sure to fix Carol with a hard glare whenever something becomes too heated.
You are sitting on an old wooden bench in the garden.
The flowers bloom around you and rustle in the fresh, spring, wind. If you close your eyes, you can almost smell the rosebush across the tiny plot of land. The birds sing in a tune you are not familiar with, but it’s nice. Lilies hug your legs, all colorful and fresh, there are tiny little droplets atop their pedals, it must have rained before you got out here.
That would explain the chill that settles deep in your spine.
There are dogs around, you hear them bark and growl at each other on the other side of the fence, but you don’t mind.
Because you are in the garden. With a fence between you and them.
Until one of them jumps the fence.
You have been staring at the ground with a slight tremor lacing your every move for the better part of an hour. She seems like a calm dog, but she’s big, bigger than you, and there is this presence to her that you don’t know what to do with.
She smells like the flowers around you, maybe that’s why you don’t flee. No matter how much you want to, you are frozen in your seat as the big hound stares at you.
She licks her snout and blinks slowly while you sit there. It feels like she is mocking you, almost as if daring you to move.
The wind picks up every now and then, the howling of the other dogs growing louder and more concerning, but the big dog doesn’t bat an eye. She growls deeply, but you can tell it isn’t directed at you, and then the other dog’s calm.
Maybe she is a nice dog, but it doesn’t matter.
A dog is a dog.
The fence opens with a piercing screech. Even as you close your eyes in hope, the big dog does nothing. She doesn’t run away, but she doesn’t help either.
She just watches as Master drags you away. You don’t know why you thought she would do anything else.
Master is right.
Master is always right.
No one will help.
You don’t deserve it.
When the meeting commends, Carol drags you out of the room quickly, she has other matters to settle tonight, and she can’t be bothered to stay here too long.
Your knuckles rasp against the expensive flooring of Mrs. Romanoff´s office. The tasteful tree-work makes your bones ache, and your tag jingles repeatedly as bone connects with fifty thousand dollars worth of Brazilian rosewood. The blond woman tugs at your leash impatiently.
“Carol. Wait a moment.”
Please don’t.
Master halted her movements just before she passed through the elevator´s door, effectively also halting yours.
“There is some paperwork James wants you to finish up before you leave.”
Natasha waves her hand around with a roll of her eyes, showcasing false annoyance she knows the blond will eat right up, “Something about an unsettled bank record?” The redhead squints in the blonde’s direction, displeasure hidden not so greatly on the CEO’s face.
Natasha has to work extremely hard to not showcase how disgusting she finds the woman in front of her to be.
The woman beside you tenses up. She bunches her eyebrows and sighs before nodding slowly and releasing the tight clutch on your leash.
A pointed finger comes into view as Carol shifts her body towards you and tilts her head downward to face you. “Stay here.” Her voice leaves no room for arguing, it’s a clear command, you know she only does it to showcase her power over you. You couldn’t talk back even if you wanted to, the clinic made sure of that long before you even knew Masters hard angles.
Nonetheless, you bow your head and place your rump back onto the cruel flooring, somehow it feels even stiffer than the concrete inside your familiar slammer.
There is a long and rather awkward silence before Miss Romanoff clears her throat and breaks the stillness.
“Are you in pain?” Natasha gestures towards her own face as if you need a hint to understand what she means.
Just a few months ago, Romanoff acknowledging you in the slightest would send you through a rollercoaster of fear and wonder. Now you merely play dumb and tilt your head in confusion.
Of course, it hurts.
That was the point, wasn’t it?
“You smell different.” Carol scrutinizes you from afar.
If it weren’t for the years of experience you have with this sort of thing you would give yourself away immediately by tensing up and begging for her mercy, instead, you remain impassive.
The blond woman studies you carefully, waiting for any telltale that you heard her.
It’s easier than you thought.
Maybe it’s from the emotional drainage these days have been, but you barely feel anything as Carol looks you over. No matter how much she has hurt you, her eyes hold nothing compared to the power that the Maximoff clan’s leader has in hers.
You can hear the familiar crunch of rough concrete beneath a heavy army boot.
Master moves closer, but still, you feel nothing.
It’s been three days since that day. The first night you sobbed your sorrows, your pain, your fear, everything that has been building up and suppressed throughout the years all expressed in a puddle of tears and blood.
You don’t know what the women wanted, but something about them had made ancient wounds reopen, and the floodgates that followed were inevitable.
You don’t even remember falling asleep, you find it more likely that you passed out from dehydration or exhaustion.
The other days had passed in a blur.
It’s like you have been stuck in a trance where nothing really matters anymore.
Then the smashing of keys came back, and still, you were inconsolable. You didn’t even acknowledge her when she ran her hands over your bare body. Didn’t blink as her hands took a threatening hold of your collar.
She was testing this new side of yours; you could tell it angered her that she didn’t affect you.
You ruined her little power trip of the day.
She grips the back of your neck and forces you to face her. “Look at me when I am talking to you!” Spit sprays on your face as she talks through gritted teeth.
You don’t care, you just stare at her through hooded eyes, looking but not seeing.
Her hand connected hard with your face; you could feel the vibration inside your skull. And yet, all you could think about were them.
The feeling of concrete pouring through your veins wasn’t so scary anymore.
*slap*
You wonder what would happen if she went all the way…
*slap*
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they killed you.
*slap*
“LOOK AT ME!” Carol screams into your ear, but it is fuzzy and unintelligible to you.
*slap*
“CAN’T YOU TELL I AM TALKING TO YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH!?”
*slap*
“Look at me?” Her hand strokes your chin lightly, but you know her…
*slap*
*slap*
Your head bounces against the pavement.
*slap*
Your vision becomes blurry and unfocused.
She hit you a total of twenty-four more times, before finally relenting and stomping away.
From that day forward you decided to play into it, pretend like what took place with the powerful women never happened to begin with. You were sure it would anger them.
If this is what Carol does when you ruin her little high.
Maybe, they will return and finish what they started if you ruin theirs.
Natasha scratches the nape of her neck as you sit there staring into nothingness. Your brows are slightly raised, and your eyes are wide, to Natasha, it seems like you are in a completely different world.
She leans against the wall, her shoulder squishing against the glass panel, and she crosses one leg over the other. Relying solely on her right leg to hold her up, she looks down at her dress shoes.
Her question was stupid, she knew as much, but what else was she supposed to say?
She wanted to talk to you.
Nat knows she should just leave you be and return back to her office, but when you were being led out of the room earlier your eyes had connected with her, it was a mere millisecond. But in that moment Natasha had felt a chill run down her spine.
Something was definitely wrong.
However, she didn’t expect you to completely shut down after just one simple question.
You are unresponsive to any stimuli while you sit in the hallway with Natasha’s presence close by. The older redhead tries to tap her foot or grunt obnoxiously, just to get a response, but nothing.
It’s not until you can hear Carol’s heavy footsteps that you quicken up and bow your head down.
Carol nods in Natasha’s direction before she passes her and collects you. Her gruff hands slide up and down the expanses of your leash until she finds the position that will yield her the most amount of control over your movements.
If the circumstances were different, Natasha would kill Carol on the spot.
Yet, as Carol takes ahold of your leash and steers you both into the elevator, Natasha lets you go.
Convincing herself it’s for the better. Again.
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