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#names similar to harbor
namesetc · 2 years
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masc names like harbor? please and thanks
Harbor is a cute name im sure we've got some like it!
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Arbor
Anchor
Arno
Araxie
Andrina
Adella
Abbot / Abbott
Arlow / Arlo
Austen / Austin / Austyn
Autumn
Birch
Bijoux
Bordeaux
Breaker
Bayou
Beaufort
Barley
Bay
Canyon
Cedar
Creighton
Chicago
Cinnabar
Crimson
Deston
Darrow
Dagger
Dallin
Delta
Dove
Day
December
Everest
Everly
Easter
Fable
Field
Fisher
Gracen
Gatsby
Grove
Haven
Harrington / Herrington / Harington / Herington
Hobie
Hyrum
Halie / Halee
Hadlee / Hadlie
Hale / Hail / Haile
Holiday
Jettie
Jaylin / Jailin / Jeylin / Jaylen / Jeylyn / Jailyn / Jaelyn / Jaelynn / Jaylyn / Jaylynn / Jalynn
James
January
Journey
Kensley
Khaleesi
Khida
Lake
Linux
Luke
Lumi
Levy
Lyric
Mason
Maeve
Maisie
Montana
Meadow
Nash
Naya
Nile
Navy
Ocean
Oakley
Onni
Olympia
Oasis
Pierson
Poet
Quinn
Rain / Raine / Rayne
Rainer / Reiner
Remember
Ridge
Slate
Saturn
Seneca
Starling
Sir
Sage
Sean / Shawn
Sofiya / Sofia / Sophia
Saraphina / Seraphina
Shelly
Woods
Whitney
West
Wander
Xanthe
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itsbuckytm · 6 months
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Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow
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summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.
I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!
How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you. 
You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse. 
During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal. 
You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay. 
After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.
You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time. 
Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it. 
Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual. 
The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right. 
When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out. 
Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes. 
He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that." 
"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is. 
You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along. 
Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies. 
The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year. 
According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you. 
Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers. 
The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers. 
It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered. 
True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red. 
Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!" 
Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance. 
The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to." 
That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.
"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."
Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident. 
By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving. 
On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say. 
How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon. 
"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.
"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."
"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere. 
"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning. 
And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem. 
Y/N, Snow.
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kianely · 6 months
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”YOU SEND ME RIGHT TO HEAVEN”
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i. PAIRING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
ii. SYNOPSIS — Fresh out of police academy, Leon heads back to his hometown to crash with his best friend before he has to move to Raccoon City. The only problem is, you’re there too — his best friend’s sibling. He has been harboring feelings for you for years, so being under the same roof as you rekindles some emotions he wasn’t able to bury. You were in a similar position.
iii. CONTENT — MDNI, 18+, mutual feelings + confessions, fluff, kissing, making out, brief mentions of masturbation, blowjob (Leon receiving), lube, fingering (reader receiving), penetrative sex, protection, consent checks, aftercare, you just graduated college (so around same age as him), banter, he’s like the boy next door, late night car ride, he’s kinda cliche and throws a rock at your window, no mention of parents, I tried to make this more dialogue heavy woo, in Grammarly I trust, let there be no typos
iv. WC — 8.6k
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Leon drummed his fingers against the leather fabric of his steering wheel, humming along to the song playing in his car. He was excited, parked outside of his old high school’s friend house — which by extension, was your house too.
He was fresh out of police academy, a soon-to-be rookie at the Raccoon City Department. He packed some bags with enough of his belongings and drove back to his hometown, wanting to spend some time with his good and most trusted pal before he settled down in a new city and focused on his work.
He took his keys off the ignition, got off, and got his bags. His hands were full when he walked up to the front door, so he rang the doorbell with his elbow. For some reason, he felt a tad bit nervous. He’d seen your brother maybe over six months ago, but he hadn’t been inside the place in a while, maybe a few years.
When the door began to open, he was almost ready to say your brother’s name. Instead, he was greeted with a special someone he hadn’t expected to see. You.
Leon nearly dropped his bags. He hadn’t seen you in a couple of years because you decided to dorm at a university. Right. Yes. You must’ve graduated by now.
“Leon?”
God, your voice almost made his jaw slacken. He loved hearing his name come out of your lips.
He didn’t even get a chance to respond — managing to keep his ground when you stepped out to hug him. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been what, like two years already?”
“Woah — yeah, yeah…something like that. It’s really good to see you too.”
You made his heartbeat spike. Your arms around him, the way you leaned against him. Granted, he was standing somewhat stiffly because he was holding his bags. But…he couldn’t resist you — he let them drop onto the patio floor with a couple of thumps before he wrapped his arms around you. He tried to do so in the most platonic way possible, fearing he’d see the light if your brother happened to join the scene.
Leon had a thing for you. Always had. Always will.
He was too scared to do a damn thing about it, in his eyes, you were simply off limits. Like a forbidden fruit, a temptation that couldn’t be indulged in without some sacrifice.
He let his arms linger back to his sides when you pulled away, and he sucked in a breath.
“Come on in,” you flashed him that gleaming smile of yours as you reached for one of his bags to help him out. “My brother’s upstairs cleaning up his room. He said he’s setting up a bed for you…I think.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me take the couch. Said he wanted me to be his roommate, so it’ll be just like old times.”
Leon was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he took a look at the interior, it looked exactly like he remembered. Not much had changed, aside from the addition of some photos, a wall-mount TV instead of a TV stand, and other small details here and there.
“You’ve changed a lot. In a good way.” You spoke up.
“Have I?”
“Yeah, I mean, just look at you.”
He looked down at himself. Shirt. Jacket. Shoes. A similar style as before. And he knew his hair wasn’t any different. What were you getting at?
He then looked back at you.
Oh.
Your eyes were practically glued to his arms. Have you always blatantly checked him out like this? Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat wash over him. The worst part is, you seemed genuinely curious — not like you were ogling him, but as if asking: Wow? Where’d those guns come from?
“It was all the drills at the police academy.” He knew that you knew that, which led him to believe that the point of your observation was to subtly compliment him. “The amount of training was pretty brutal, but I’m ready for the job.”
“I’m sure you are. I heard you graduated at the top ten percent of your class, that’s pretty cool!” You were being genuine, he could hear it in your voice since it went to a slightly higher-pitched tone.
The playful nudge you gave his shoulder made the ends of his eyes crinkle, he loved it when you did that — it reminded him of how things were back then when he visited often, the way you’d nudge him or even ruffle his hair whenever you were happy or excited over his accomplishments. It made him feel seen.
“It was nothing,” he was humble, as usual. “It has just always been my dream.”
“I know…I’m really proud of you, Leon.”
The way you attached his name to the praise just made it sound all the more personal, the tips of his ears felt like they were burning. He bashfully rubbed the nape of his neck. “Uh thanks, I really appreciate that. It means a lot coming from you.”
Leon had always been a complete sweetheart with you. He was the epitome of ‘the boy next door’. He had fond memories of trying to muster up the courage to ask you to be his Valentine’s during high school — the two of you attended the same one and were a year off from one another, so he saw you around. Again though, he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with your brother…so he never asked.
He thought about driving over to your house and throwing a pebble at your window to get your attention, and he’d be holding a bouquet in his hands. Just a daydream, but a fun one to look back on nevertheless. He always gave you presents on your birthday and Christmas, nothing too grand so he wouldn’t get your brother suspicious, but just enough so he could see you light up as you unwrapped the gift.
“Are those your graduation photos?” He took notice of some polaroids splayed out on the coffee table, ones with you with a cap and gown.
“Yeah, feel free to look at them.”
Leon wished he could’ve watched you walk the stage. Yeah, he attended your high school one, but he would’ve liked to see the college one too. Maybe he’d ask if any of your family or friends took a video later. There was a goofy grin on his face the entire time he looked through them.
He was so absorbed that he didn’t even hear the footsteps down the stairs, nor the chuckle you let out before your brother playfully pulled him into a chokehold.
“Dude, really? How are you going to be part of the force like this?”
Leon swatted your brother away with a roll of eyes, all out of love of course — he easily maneuvered out of the half-assed chokehold. “Cut me some slack, I was a little distracted.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. Don’t you have to be attentive and shit?”
That right there was your sign to leave — your brother was really close with Leon, and you wanted to give them time to catch up. After all, you’d probably be bumping into Leon a lot since he was going to be staying for a couple of days.
Leon hated the way his eyes trailed over to your form as you made your way upstairs. He’s supposed to be paying attention to your brother, so why were you clouding his thoughts? With a very small physical shake of head, he redirected his attention to your brother, nodding along as he listened in to his chit-chatter and caught up with everything that had happened in his hometown.
But in the back of his mind, he knew he was screwed.
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You wanted to bury your face against your pillow and scream. How were you supposed to act now that your high school crush was here? Your brother’s best friend. The one you had always dreamed of dating. That was a long time ago. But even in college, you always longed to see him again — to grab lunch and coffee with him and then show him around your campus with your hand in his.
Leon popped into your head whenever you dipped your hand underneath your waistband to relieve your urges. Your stomach bubbled with craving when you felt pent up late at night, even if you tried to think of someone else, Leon was always in your mind whenever you came and muffled your noises into your pillow.
No amount of people you saw in college even came close to Leon.
He had gotten so much stronger. When he hugged you earlier…you could feel his bulging biceps and noticed how much broader his shoulders were. You were sure his pecs were in solid condition too, it made you want to bury your head between them. He had always been fit, but you knew damn well you’d see a six-pack if he took off his shirt.
So for his sweet self to be just a walking distance away was pretty overwhelming. You could handle a day, maybe even two, but as far as you know, he was going to be staying longer. Not as long as a week, but still enough to have you worrying.
It had been four hours since he arrived. You could faintly hear some laughter. That wasn’t a surprise though, your brother’s room was just across the hall from yours.
That's it. No more. You were going insane.
You got up and played some music, not too loud, just enough to drown the other sounds out. It was dark outside now, you opened up the window to let some of the breeze in to ventilate your room.
It was going just fine until you fast-forward to half an hour later.
A familiar set of knocks distracts you from your worries. Wait, never mind. The one behind the knocks was the cause of your worries.
You lowered the volume of your music a bit and took a very quick look in the mirror to make sure you looked okay before opening the door.
Leon leaned against your door frame, just casually — like he didn’t know just how pretty he looked right now. In his defense, you knew he probably didn’t. He had always been a little dense about all that.
“Hey.”
“...Hey.”
His awkwardness was a part of his charm.
“Does my brother need something or?”
“Oh, no. Uh, one of his coworkers called him and I felt a bit neglected, so here I am.”
Don’t you know it? If you had a penny for the amount of times your brother had paced around the entire house getting into a heated conversation over work gossip, you’d have enough to pay off your student debt.
“Trust me, those phone calls can last hours.” You walked back to sink into your bed with a contended grunt, making a hand gesture for him to come in.
Why would you do that? Being in a closed space with him wasn’t a good idea considering all the thoughts spinning in your head.
Leon had never really entered your room, at least not for over a couple of minutes. He didn’t know where to sit despite there being many surfaces: the window seat, your desk chair, the floor, the beanbag you had, your bed, no — out of the question.
“Don’t be so stiff,” you teased, finding the way he looked a bit out of place a little cute. “Sit anywhere you like.”
He laughed before heading over to the window seat. “Just don’t want to be intrusive.”
“You? As if.”
Leon took an in-depth look around — posters of shows and bands, little collections of trinkets, old textbooks, scattered papers on your desk, diplomas and awards plastered on your wall, stickers on the cover of your laptop, a corner with some of your hobbies, a counter with your personal products. It seemed so…you. So naturally, he liked it. It was cozy.
And God, it smelled like you too. It made him dizzy. In a way, it was comforting, like the scent he’d get whenever you passed by him or when the two of you briefly hugged. Though at the same time, his mind was also pulled toward a more inappropriate direction. He’d be able to drown in your scent if you let him bury his face against the crook of your neck so he could nip at your skin and make you a purring mess in his arms.
The idea of being so physically close to you to the point your fragrance and scent rubbed off on his clothes afterward? Now that had his blood rushing straight to the gutter.
You felt nervous, aware of his moving eyes — you were glad the attention wasn’t directly on you, you tried to continue casually scrolling on your phone despite the way your heart was hammering.
“Better than my brother’s room?”
“Mm, I don’t know about that.”
“Pftt, you’re just biased.”
He didn’t have a rebuttal for that, merely shrugging as his eyes continued their exploration. Eventually, he caught sight of something familiar sitting on top of your nightstand — a set of headphones he had gifted you. He always knew how much you loved music, so he had gotten that for you a long time ago.
“You still have those?”
“Hm?” You followed his gaze, and your lips tugged into a smile as you reached over to dangle them in the air for him to see more properly. “Duh! Actually…they stopped working a couple of months back, but they lasted me a pretty long time.”
With the ice broken, Leon felt more comfortable. He went over to sit down on your bed. He wasn’t questionably close to you, but he was manspreading so his knee nearly grazed against yours.
“Is there any use in keeping a pair of broken headphones around?”
“Uh, yes.” You said matter-of-factly as you now clutched them close to your chest, looking at them almost sentimentally. “I cherish everything that you’ve given me. These bad boys aren’t seeing a trash can anytime soon.”
Cute. Cute…Cute.
“You sure you aren’t just a hoarder?”
“Rude.”
“Just a question.”
“Yeah, a rude one.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“Whatever.”
You were killing him. Leon felt his self-restraint diminish by the second. He could mess up so easily. He wanted to confess. To kiss you. Hold your hand. Plant his lips against your forehead. Rest his head against your lap and melt as you play with his hair.
He could do it, assuming you returned his feelings. He was moving to Raccoon City soon, it’s better to not have any regrets, right? He loves your brother, but at this point screw him. Leon has been pining for you for years.
He was incredibly tempted, hanging on a thin string. But he had to know one thing first. “So, are you dating anyone? There must’ve been plenty of candidates in college.”
“Nah, I dated here and there but…nothing lasted long. It’s weird, everyone was focused on something different, so nothing ever worked out.” Because none of them were him.
“What about you?”
“No one.” He replied.
Great, you were both single.
Silence. Again. This time with occasional fleeting eye contact. Leon twiddled his thumbs, his hands resting on his lap.
You purposely shifted closer to him, enough for your thigh to press up against his a little. Wow. He hadn’t expected to feel a jolt of electricity from that.
He looked over at you more clearly this time, his eyes searched yours.
You were losing your shit, drawn to his baby blue eyes. With your nearby lamp turned on, you could see the way his cheeks progressively turned rosy. Your eyes flickered to his lips. They looked soft, as if he put lip balm on consistently. Would they feel like a pillow?
He felt like he was burning, and he nervously tugged his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You know, I’ve always found you cute.” You were the one to break the silence.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Your brother would kill me. Take it back.”
“My brother would kill you for something I said?” You scoffed. “You’re funny.”
“You know what I meant.”
You did.
But it hurt a little. Would Leon really hold back on his feelings all because of your brother? As far as you were concerned, your brother had never told you to not go after Leon. And if that was some sort of unspoken rule…then too bad.
Leon knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he didn’t stand a chance.
“Come on, Kennedy. You’re telling me you’ve never thought about this?”
“Well, yeah…But—“
“Just one kiss, please, Leon?”
You just had to say his name, didn’t you?
One kiss. Only one. Yeah, he could work with that. No hand holding or waist holding. Just a kiss, how bad could it be?
“Just one.” He agreed, his voice a whisper.
Leon leaned in, stopping just moments before his lips touched yours. He was nervous. If he was granted even a piece of heaven, surely he’d end up craving more. But he would deal with it. He caved.
His lips gently met yours. God, your lips felt plush. It was a simple one, ending as soon as it began. But of course, it wasn’t going to end there. The two of you were already in each other’s space. The short peck wasn’t enough.
“So, two?”
“Yeah.” You placed your hand on the side of his upper neck and caressed his cheek with your thumb.
“God…” Leon folded, leaning in once more with a suave and much longer kiss this time. His body pressed against yours a little, his body heat mixing with yours.
Just a few minutes passed, and the two of you were making out — slowly and sensually. Your tongues naturally clashed against one another, no rush or doubt, just instinct. Leon tasted good, like spearmint.
“I’ve always had a thing for you,” Leon murmured the confession out in between kisses. He didn’t want you to think he was kissing you just for the hell of it, or for mere physical attraction. You were important to him, the person who harbored his thoughts for the past years of his life.
Honestly, if you weren’t underneath him like this, you might’ve reacted more incredulously. But he was kissing you so intimately, you weren’t surprised. Even so, his sincerity was sweet.
“For how long?”
Another kiss — A pause.
“Since the day your brother introduced us.” Another one. “Six years now.”
You smiled into the kiss, and it prompted him to do so as well. But eventually, you leaned back to look at him. “For the record, I’ve always liked you too. You never made a move on me though, so I thought maybe you didn’t see me that way.”
“Please. I’ve always been crazy over you.”
“Good, that’s how I like my men. Now c’mere…”
With that, the two of you continued kissing. You could scream into your pillow later once you had the chance to process the fact the man of your dreams had just confessed to you. For now though…his taste was pretty damn distracting.
What drove Leon crazy was whenever he managed to hear some quiet noises escape from you: a discreet moan into his mouth, a gasp when he snaked his hand up and down your side, an exhale when he pulled away to kiss the corner of your lips and catch his breath. He hoped you didn’t feel the way he was beginning to get a little hard, not a full-blown boner, but…you got him riled up fairly easily.
Your fingers were threading through his hair, unintentionally ruffling it up. And you figured something out fairly soon — a gentle tug on his hair made him breathless. He liked it.
The music still softly playing in your room kept the sounds of your lips smacking and occasional chatter hidden, but eventually, your mind drifted to the reason why Leon had come into your room in the first place.
“Okay, okay.” You laughed quietly, pressing your palms flat against Leon’s chest and keeping him at a distance. “I think that’s enough…my brother’s probably done with his call by now. He probably just thinks you’re in the bathroom or something.”
Leon’s breathing was a bit heavy, his lips felt all tingly from the amount of time that they had been against yours. “I forgot about that…yeah, I should get going.”
He sat up, licking his lips as if to get more of your remaining taste. He was glad you guys had stopped there, otherwise, there’d be a bulge straining against his pants — which would be pretty damn awkward.
“You’re dangerous, y’know that?” Leon sounded amused. He stood up and went over to your mirror to fix his hair up and make himself look as if he had not just been kissing his best friend’s sibling.
“What are you gonna do about it? Handcuff me?”
“I’m not officially on the job…but I might just have to.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can talk to me about the law some other time.”
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Two days had passed since then. Leon hadn’t had many opportunities to interact with you since your brother kept taking him out of the house to stroll around the town and reminisce on memories. Even amidst a trip down memory lane, Leon couldn’t get you off his mind. The kissing, the confession, there has to be more to the story the two of you have developed.
He couldn’t sleep all night, lying on the makeshift bed your brother had prepared for him. He tossed and turned, knowing you were just down the hallway was testing his self-restraint.
The good news? Your brother was a heavy sleeper. We’re talking…he wouldn’t wake up without many nearby alarms or without a bucket of water being poured onto him.
Leon shuffled out of his makeshift bed, threw some clothes on, grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, headed downstairs, and then made his way outside, cringing a little at the loud creak of the door. He was going to get some fresh air and go on a drive around the neighborhood, he needed to clear his head.
Walking towards his car, he looked up at the house and noticed that one room was still all lit up even in the dead of midnight. Yours. Maybe you couldn’t fall asleep either, thinking about what happened.
He shouldn’t be thinking about throwing a small pebble at your window, but he couldn’t help it. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you. So…he threw a pebble.
With a huff, you got out of your bed to investigate what had dragged your attention from your phone. It wasn’t rare for you to hear a noise outside, but to have such a distinct sound against your window? You just wanted to be safe.
Leon saw you brush your curtain to the side, looking around before peering at him.
He felt small for some reason and motioned for you to come over, he didn’t want to yell in the middle of the quiet neighborhood. Leon leaned against the side of his car as he waited for you.
His hands felt clammy.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” You asked. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah, I needed some fresh air. Wanna go for a drive around the neighborhood?”
“You don’t even need to ask…I can finally call shotgun.”
Leon snorted at that. He had a car during high school and would occasionally give you and your brother rides, but your brother always called shotgun (obviously, since they were best friends), so you were always stuck sitting in the back and listening in to their conversations.
“Yeah, yeah.” He unlocked his car before opening the passenger seat door for you. “In you go.”
“Thanks.”
You put your seatbelt on and then looked around his car as he got in and turned on the ignition, waiting for the car to warm up.
“So,” Leon began, looking over at you with a coy smile. “About the other night…”
God, you had been dying to talk about it. In all honesty, you were internally a little bit upset that your brother had been dragging Leon out of the house, even if that was reasonable considering their friendship. But you knew that what happened wasn’t just a one-time thing, it couldn’t be, and you wouldn’t let it.
“Yeah, uh—” You met his gaze. “ I know you’re worried because of my brother and everything but I really like you, Leon. He cares about you, and he trusts you. I don’t…I don’t think he’d be upset if we ended up together.”
“Are you sure? I really like you too, I just don’t want to ruin anything.”
“Are you kidding? He’d probably be hyped about you being his future brother-in-law.”
“Already thinking about marriage, huh?”
“I—no…shut up.”
With a roll of eyes and a grin, Leon turned his attention to reversing out of the driveway since the car was all ready to go. Yeah, he looked really damn attractive while doing that, you couldn’t resist from looking at his arms. There wasn’t anything interesting to look at outside the windows anyway, you had walked and driven by all these houses practically every day.
“So, what made you like me?”
Leon hummed in thought after you asked him that, he kept his eyes on the road, trying to find a way to sum it all up.
“Well, I remember meeting you for the first time. You were breathtaking and held yourself so well, and I was just kinda standing there not knowing what to say. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, and I remember thinking to myself: no one else has ever made me feel this way after a first impression, you must be the one. It was complicated though, I thought you were off limits, you know…that’s just friend code. And the more and more I came over, the more I fell for you. Everything about you. I just…I dunno. I like you.”
That was his short explanation, he could go ramble for hours about why he liked you, about all the little things you do and say that make him feel like a lovestruck fool.
“The feeling’s mutual…I’ve always wanted to be with you. Like, I can actually be myself and not have to force any conversation. It’s all so natural. I really missed you throughout college.”
Leon was smiling, pearly whites showing as he continued driving.
“We could’ve been high school sweethearts. Y’know…you’re the reason all my relationships failed.” You joked, though, it wasn’t far off from the truth.
“You’re seriously gonna blame me for that?”
“Yeah, you raised my standards way too much.”
“Not my fault.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Not.”
“Is.”
“Not.”
“Is.”
“...”
Leon knew that he would never get the final word, not when it came to you. He gave you the win.
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The two of you must’ve driven around for a little over half an hour before Leon parked back onto your driveway.
“Actually, there’s something else on my mind.” You told him, taking in a breath before voicing your thoughts. “You’re moving in what…like a week? So, what does that mean for us?”
If there was one thing Leon was certain about, it was that he wasn’t letting you go. No, he’d gone six long years just pining over you and not making any moves, he’d figure something out.
“We’ll make it work.”
“But you’re going to be busy. I know how important your career is to you, what if I distract you and screw something up.”
He loved that about you, you were so damn considerate.
“Not gonna happen.” He retorted, turning off his ignition before getting out of the car — going over to your side to open it for you.
He walked side by side with you to the front door, and you were still quietly yammering about how worried you were.
“Hey,” his voice was soft as he turned to face you, he cupped his hands around your face. The caring look in his eyes could cure millions. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
With that, he gently kissed you, making all your worries fade instantly. You smiled and then kissed him again, tugging on the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. When you pulled back, you laughed a little before asking:
“My room?”
“Yeah.”
The minute the two of you were inside your bedroom with the door locked, you took the initiative and pushed him onto your bed. God, you adored the way his eyes fixated on you, the way his hand reached out to squeeze your hips as you got settled on top of him and captured his lips into a kiss.
A familiar makeout session, just like last time. The two of you lost track of time. But it was different this time: more steamy, a little more fast-paced — especially with the way Leon was practically squeezing all your curves, unlike last time.
“Mm.” He moaned softly, relishing the taste of your lips. His hand slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh as his breathing grew heavier. He was hard, whimpering every single time he got any friction down there.
He let his lips trail down to your neck, squeezing you a little harder when he heard you gasp.
You just about melted, your hand instinctively going to the back of his head to keep him close — the way his teeth occasionally nipped the sensitive skin was heavenly, it made you shudder and tug on his hair.
Leon was careful to not bruise your skin, just wanting to make you feel good like you made him feel.
“Oh shit, wait.” You got off him for a second, taking a quick moment to turn on some of your music. Not so loud that it would disturb anyone, but just enough to cover up your noises. “Okay…all done.”
You then repositioned yourself again. It was getting hot in the room, your hands reached down to tug your shirt off, no use for it anymore.
Leon swallowed thickly, his eyes roaming across your torso and taking every single feature in. He couldn’t resist from letting his hand wander across your bare skin, watching as goosebumps formed from his mere touch.
“You’re…” He whispered out, looking back into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” You said in return, a grin forming on your face. You reached your hands underneath his shirt. “Can I take yours off?”
Leon nodded mindlessly, he’d let you do just about anything to him. He was getting hot under the collar. He helped you out as you took his shirt off.
You felt a tingle shoot straight down when you saw his body. Pretty. He was pretty. You pressed your hands against his pecs before sliding them down tortuously slow to his abs. Rock hard.
“You’re so muscular now,” you let your fingers trace the lines of his abs.
“Yeah.” Leon’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Police academy will do that to you.”
“I bet.” You leaned down to kiss his torso, littering kisses all over his chest, smiling against his skin whenever you caught onto the subtle incoherent mumbles of encouragement he was voicing out.
“You know what I think?”
“Hm?”
“I think…” you trailed off, your lips reaching his stomach and your hand brushing across the tent that had formed in his pants. “You need some attention down here.”
“Mm…I think you’re right. But uh, are you sure?”
Leon was a bit worried you felt pressured into this. Yeah, it would be great to go further than kissing, but he wanted you to be completely comfortable with it.
“Yeah, I want to make you feel good, if that’s okay with you.”
“It is.”
“Okay, let’s use the traffic light system, yeah?”
“Sounds good.”
Leon was breathing heavily, eyes already lidded as he watched you pull down his fly and his jeans.
Your mouth watered, you had thought about this so many times that it was almost embarrassing. You kissed along his bulge, right through the fabric. You could’ve sworn you felt it twitch a little too.
“You’re pretty excited, I haven’t even done much.”
“Oh come on, you already know you drive me insane.”
You laughed and then tugged his boxers down.
Leon hissed, his cock now exposed to your eyes. He thought about this so many times when he tugged one out, but he never imagined he would have felt a little bit self-conscious. Like, what if you thought it was ugly or something?
Quite the contrary. You adored everything about him,
“Light?”
“Green.”
You planted a kiss against his tip, a gesture that made him chuckle breathlessly.
“Seriously?”
“What? I can’t kiss it?”
“No no, you can.”
You continued placing kisses across the length of his cock, all the way down to his balls. Leon groaned, the tips of his ears started to flush. Never in his life did he think he’d get such treatment from you.
“Now you’re just being a tease.”
You could tell he was desperate by the tone of his voice. “There’s a thing called patience, maybe you should learn it.”
He was going to counter your words, but all that left his mouth was a pitiful gasp when you started licking him. The sound went straight to the spot between your legs, you really wanted to palm yourself.
“Better?”
“Yeah…that feels really good.” He placed his hand on the back of your head, practically petting you as you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock. He tilted his head back, jaw slackened as he took shaky and shallow breaths.
His stomach tightened up when you reached the tip, swirling your tongue around the sensitive area before finally sucking him off.
“Oh — Jesus.” He’s so sensitive, not used to having such a pretty pair of lips wrapped around his cock. In an attempt to quiet himself down, he chewed on his bottom lip, but the poor guy couldn’t contain the muffled noises that spilled instead.
You were eager to please, using a hand to stroke the base of his cock and taking the rest into your mouth. The combination had him purring, his head spinning with pure want and affection for you.
His hips involuntarily bucked, catching you off guard as his tip hit the back of your throat. His free hand bunched up the fabric of your bedsheets, he couldn’t think straight, not when you were between his legs like this.
Leon hadn’t felt this way in a while, it was overwhelming. And he could feel his abdomen growing warm. Just a little over a minute and he was already close — this was much better than all his fantasies.
“Wait…I’m almost there.“ He settled his hands on your shoulders. He made the mistake of looking down, the way you were peering at him through your lashes would drive any man insane.
Leon feebly tried to push you away. It’s not because he doesn’t want you to continue, no, he’d say the safe word if that was the case. But the idea of his cum filling your mouth…well, it made him feel a little embarrassed.
You were relentless though, taking him so well in your mouth. You were drooling by now, but that did nothing to stop you, not when you were enamored by the way Leon’s thighs were shaking. You had never been so turned on.
The moment your hand fondled his balls though, he was a goner.
“I’m—” Leon couldn’t finish his sentence, hips bucking against you and stilling as he came in your mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he bit his lip harshly to not let out a window-shattering moan.
You swallowed it all, pulling away to catch your breath and lap at his cock to take any leftovers. Leon was panting at this point, trying to recover from the orgasm you had given him.
“You must have a pretty good diet.” You really had the audacity to say that when Leon was still completely fucked out, barely even registering what you were saying.
“Uh…what—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
His cheeks were burning at what you implied: he tasted good.
Leon pawed at you, tugging you up so he could eagerly kiss you. It was sloppy and uncoordinated because of how dazed he was, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so well,” he praised you, trying to make up for the way you rendered him speechless while sucking him off. “Better than I dreamed of.”
“Trying to flatter me, are you?”
“Oh, c’mon.” He scoffed.
He switched the positions, putting your back on the mattress and settling his hips between your thighs. He was more than ready to make you feel good too.
His hand traveled all over you, across your chest and hardened nipples, across the side of your ribs, squeezed your waist, went down to grab your ass, and then returned to your waistband, fingers tugging at your waistband.
“Can I?”
“Yeah.”
After you lifted your hips to help him take your pants and underwear off, you reached over to open the top drawer of your nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.
Leon was relieved you were prepared, because he certainly hadn’t packed any of that for his visit, he didn’t think this would happen.
“Here, let me…” He reached for the bottle.
He put some lube on his middle and index fingers before reaching his hand back between your legs, teasing your hole a bit before very slowly sinking them in. You inhaled sharply at the coldness of it, letting out that same breath in the form of a moan.
“Is this okay?” Leon asked you, eyes watching your facial reactions to make sure the motion of his fingers weren’t causing you any discomfort. He was a little insecure of them, his training had roughened them up a bit.
“Mhm. Keep going.”
He did just that, continuing to dip them in until you eased up and they fit inside nice and snug.
He looked back down, letting out a quiet ‘oh fuck’ when you started bucking your hips up to meet his touch. God, he was so horny even after his climax, his cock beginning to harden up again.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered, fingering you at a gentle pace, he swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth at the thought of being inside you.
“I can, I think we’re made for each other.”
The way you managed a smile while letting out the prettiest noises stirred up many emotions in him. He liked the vulnerability of this moment, just two people who liked each other being intimate and connecting.
“Well, I do too. Just…I dunno.” He fell silent, his gaze returning to your face and watching as it contorted into one of pleasure when he angled and curled his fingers just right.
“Right there?”
You nodded, reaching your hand down to hover it over the one he was using. “Yeah. Fuck…just like that.”
The wet sounds of his slick fingers sliding in and out of you were driving him insane, and a string of curse words left his lips. “You sound so good.”
Each flick of his wrist had you squirming around, your bed sheets wrinkling and getting all messed up. Some of the lube spilled down your thighs, you’d need to wash your sheets after this.
Leon kept going until you came, feeling his cock come fully to life at the way you moaned and spilled his name.
“Leon…” Your fingers dug into his forearms, feeling his muscles flex as he coaxed you through your orgasm. His eyes were glued to your face, biting his lip at the way your pretty eyes rolled back. He pulled his fingers out when your legs closed together in response to the overwhelming presence.
“Holy shit,” you sighed when you regained your senses, eyes fluttering open to meet his.
His lips tugged into a smile, he looked pretty proud of himself. “Felt good?”
“Better than good, but…”
“But?”
“I want more.”
“More as in…?”
Could he be more dense?
“I want you inside me.”
“Oh. Right.”
His cheeks turned red, well, redder than they already were. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Do you wanna be on top or?”
You gave it some thought, reaching over for the unopened condom — there was time for both, but to start, you wanted to ride him.
“I’ll be on top.”
With the repositions all done, you straddled his hips, tearing open the condom packet. Your heart was hammering like crazy, one of your dreams was about to come true. It wasn’t just about sexual pleasure, this was the man you had liked for literal years.
Leon noticed that you seemed to be pensive while putting the condom on him. His hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing about the flesh.
“What are you thinking about? Talk to me.”
His caring voice pulled you from your thoughts, you shook your head and smiled.
“Just about how long I’ve wanted this. You know, being with you. I’m really happy.”
God, he adored you. “Me too.”
You aligned yourself with his cock, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
You curled your fingers around the base of his cock to keep it stable before slowly sinking onto him. You felt the air escape from your lungs. Your jaw slackened and you let out a silent moan until you took all of him in.
“You’re going to be the death of me…” Leon gritted out. “Fuck, I didn’t think it would feel this good. You okay?”
You nodded, feeling full, the curve of your ass was against his balls. “Yeah, I think the foreplay really helped. I’m gonna start moving now.”
You put your hands against his chest and began riding him. Leon groaned in pleasure, his hands kneading your ass and helping you roll your hips. He felt bad that his fingers were digging into your skin but he couldn’t help it.
“Ah…Leon.”
Your mewls made his cock twitch inside you, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull.
He looked so pretty underneath you — his hair splayed out, a thin layer of sweat over his muscular torso, the baby blue part of his eyes almost covered now by his dilated pupils. So pretty.
Leon couldn’t take his eyes off you, not even if they threatened to shut from the way you were working him. No, they were all over you — watching the way your eyebrows were furrowed, the heave of your chest from your inconsistent breathing, how your eyes seemed glossy whenever they met his.
He reached his hand over to your chest, fingers gently pulling at one of your nipples. God, you rutted against him a bit faster at that, making him hiss and trash his head against your pillows. “Jesus…”
“Come on, say my name instead. I’m tired of hearing his.”
He laughed at that, wondering how you could even think of that at this moment. Because personally? He couldn’t come up with any banter, not with the way you were on top of him, turning a fantasy of his into a reality.
“Mm, just like that…it’s yours, all yours. I’m yours.”
Did he know how hot that was? You practically groaned just by hearing him say that. Leon thrust up to meet your hips, not missing the hiccup of your breath or the way your body almost gave out from the abrupt movement.
Honestly…having you underneath him didn’t sound all that bad right now. “Wanna switch?”
You paused your movements and nodded, happy that he asked — being on top was pretty tiring, and you knew he had the strength for it. You pulled yourself off his cock, you weren’t all that sure what he had in mind but you were eager nonetheless.
“Go for it.”
“Okay, just…” He gently maneuvered you to your back with ease. “There.”
“Show me that stamina of yours.”
He rolled his eyes, knowing you were referencing his training. “That’s going to be a little tough with you underneath me.”
He sat back on his knees and stroked himself, his eyes raking your form.
Watching him jerk himself off was hot, you could watch it all night…but, there’s always a next time. Right now? All you wanted was the intimacy of having him inside you again.
Leon bit his lip as he rubbed the head of his cock against your hole, he looked back up at you, he knew there was no way in hell he would last long. But he wasn’t embarrassed over it, he’d been waiting years, it was only natural.
Leon reached to hold one of your hands, keeping his other one on his cock to guide himself in. He took a deep breath, his stomach muscles clenching a little as he managed to get the tip in. “God…I’m definitely not gonna last in this position.”
“You’re not evenfully in yet.” You were breathless though, mind swirling at just the tip. You tried to steady your breathing and relax so he could fit without difficulty.
He laughed at that. “Yeah, yeah.”
A synchronous moan left both of you when he eventually bottomed out against you, taking a moment to get used to the feeling. He leaned down to kiss you, his hair dangling and brushing against your forehead in the process.
He hoisted your ankles over his shoulder and planted his hands beside your head, practically folding your knees to your chest. He didn’t miss the way he got hit with some of your usual fragrance, clearly, you had put some on either the back of your knees or your ankles…he wasn’t sure which one.
“Were you…anticipating this?”
“...What?” You sounded so fucked out and he wanted to laugh.
He chuckled. “Nothing.”
He chose to keep his newfound knowledge to himself for now. He kissed your somewhat sweaty forehead before starting a rhythm with his hips. Your walls were squeezing him, making him a panting mess against the shell of your ear.
You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it whenever one of his thrusts hit deeper than the others.
His hand found your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours. He sighed contentedly at the way you immediately squeezed his hand. He liked this, being close to you.
“Leon…” You moaned his name out, making a jolt of electricity shoot straight through all his nerves. His thrusts got faster, the sound of skin-to-skin contact intermingling with the light music playing in your room.
“Feeling good? Yeah, you’re taking it so well…I’m gonna be thinking about this for months.” He murmured the praise against your skin, kissing your ear before making his way down your neck.
Your reaction was immediate, clenching down on him and gasping, nails digging into his scalp. Hearing such praise come from Leon? God, it drove you insane.
Leon grunted, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your neck like a starved man. He could tell you were close, and he wanted to bring you over the edge of ecstasy — to coax an orgasm out of you before he spilled into his condom.
“I’m close…” you mumbled out, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave into the feeling, Leon was taking the lead, you didn’t have to worry about a single thing.
“I know,” he met your lips for a kiss, grunting and whimpering into your mouth with each snap of his hips. “Me too.”
He kept his pace the same, knowing it was getting you to approach your climax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” his words were quiet, a little high pitched too, he could feel you holding his hand so tight that your fingers were leaving indents against the back of it.
“Please,” Leon pleaded. “Come on my cock…I need it.”
Your body started feeling tingly, your back arching and your hips trying to buck against him in pursuit of the feeling. You were right there.
“Leon! Leon…” Your head tipped back into your pillow. “I’m coming.”
He felt you squeeze him, your body trembling and twitching against him as he continued thrusting against you in your moment of bliss. But he didn’t last either, hips stuttering when he came inside the condom, feeling his cock get all warm from it.
“Oh…” Leon let out a guttural groan, followed by some whimpers of your name as he stilled inside you — slumping his body against yours, burying his head against your shoulder, and sloppily kissing the area.
The two of you stayed like that until you recomposed yourselves, your breathing pattern returning to normal. Leon mustered up the strength to prop himself back up, pulling out of you with a with a small whimper.
“Hey,” he whispered, a grin on his face as he kissed your cheek.
“Hey yourself.” You told him back, watching as he got up with a noise of complaint to take off the condom and throw it into the trash can.
“Come back here,” you laughed out, extending your arms for him.
“I am, I just didn’t wanna make a mess on your bed.” He came back over, laying down on his side and pulling you close.
“You already did, doofus.”
You turned to your side too. You could deal with the mess on your bedsheets later.
Leon held you close, slowly running his fingertips along your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed the top of your head and stayed like that for a few minutes. Just in each other's arms — letting your bodies calm down after the rush of pleasure and overwhelming emotion.
Leon’s body felt warm to the touch, he would make a really good blanket, a personal heater. You rubbed your hands across his shoulder blades, occasionally letting your nails scratch the skin lightly.
“How are you feeling?” Leon asked, reaching a hand to cup the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone.
“I feel really good,” you murmured, a lazy smile on your face, still feeling a rush of affection for him after the moment ended. “Everything about this feels perfect, I am a little sleepy though. You?”
“Same here.” He returned the sentiment, internally giddy about how everything had unfolded in the last few days. He couldn’t resist kissing you — just a sweet and simple one before pulling back.
“Need anything? A cup of water or something?”
Now that you think about it, your mouth feels kinda dry.
“Maybe a glass of water?”
“Mm,” Leon nodded. “Got it, I’ll be back.”
He kissed your forehead and then got up, putting on his boxers and pants (despite how uncomfortably sticky it felt) and quietly headed downstairs to grab two glasses of water and a small snack too — he knew his way around the house, so it was no big deal.
You wanted his body warmth again, rolling over to the side of the bed that he had been on to feel it once more.
Eventually, you heard the door creak open — revealing Leon, who had a sweet smile on his face as he shut it. He set down a bowl of fruit on your nightstand and then sat on your bed, handing you the glass of water you requested
“Miss me?” You asked, teasingly. You sat up.
“Oh yeah, big time.”
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He brought his cup of water to his lips, letting out a refreshed sigh after taking some gulps. You had him moaning and panting so much that he was sure his lips would get all chapped.
Leon gently coaxed your legs over his extended ones, caressing them.
“So…” Leon cleared his throat, “I never properly asked.”
“Asked what?”
He had a hopeful look in his eyes, a goofy grin on his face as he asked:
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
946 notes · View notes
murdrdocs · 7 months
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Halloween is my favorite thing in the world- I’m thinking accidental couples costume with overtly sexual undertones turned into Halloween party bathroom hookup?
it seems like more than a coincidence, friends of friends, wearing similar costumes. but it really was a coincidence, even if both of you have been harboring crushes on the other ever since your first (admittedly awkward) meeting.
your pink dress, white gloves, and crown. his denim overalls, red shirt, and newly shaven mustache.
"mario and princess peach! super cute." came the compliments throughout the night, each variation increasingly slurred as the night went on. people got drunker, the music got louder, the air got stuffier, and somehow you and mike schmidt got closer throughout the night.
anytime you ventured in the kitchen for a drink refill (light alcohol and sugary sodas only), mike was right behind you, denim brushing against your dress whenever he would slide to another side of the kitchen. your dress was short, of course it was, and mike graciously took it upon himself to continue smoothing it down every so often, hands grazing your butt only a few times.
it's really no surprise that later in the night, you end up flush against mike in an upstairs hallway bathroom.
the music still reverberates throughout the house, but it's quiet enough up here for you to hear the praise mike speaks into the air.
"you feel so good," he says your name, drawled and breathy. his head buried in the crook of your neck, curly hair tickling your ear, mustache tickling your shoulder, now exposed since the shoulder of your dress had been pushed down.
you dig your hand in mikes hair, nails scratching at his scalp lightly, and he shudders. you can’t help but smirk, arching your back more, pushing your hips further towards mike.
“harder, mike, please.”
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moonwoodhollow · 11 days
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HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76
a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat
A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.
It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!
More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!
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First a little history/backstory to this build:
This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.
The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.
So what do you get with this build?
Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.
You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.
The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!
CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.
Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.
@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif
@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3
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Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis
Download: Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)
-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(
TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.
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thedensworld · 6 months
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Forever His | C.Sc
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Pairing: Seungcheol x reader
Genre: fluff, angst, slightly smut
Words Count: 3,5K
Summary: You found out that Seungcheol was marrying you for your property and wealth while you're pregnant with his child. What would you do? Let him go or play a fool?
Seungcheol growled in anger upon hearing several hurried knocks on his bedroom door well past midnight. Inside, he held you close, releasing all the pent-up affection from his business trip. Your face blushed from the intimate activity, your lips plumped, and Seungcheol was the reason behind it all. Initially oblivious to the noise, you regained your senses when he suddenly stopped and questioned him, "Why?"
Seungcheol sighed, his lips peppering a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, "I'm sorry," before continuing, "get dressed. Don't want anyone to see you like this," accompanied by another peck on your shoulder. You observed him donning a robe before rising to walk to your closet to get dressed. It had been a week since you last saw him during his business trip to Hong Kong, and he immediately reveled in the moment upon his return.
You understood the frustration etched on his face as he headed to the door, reprimanding his assistant whom he had just seen a few hours ago—more than he had seen you all week. Despite the interruption, you decided not to retake your shower, opting for minimal clothing just in case the interrupted moment could be resumed. Wrapped in your robe, you lay on the bed with a tablet in hand, patiently awaiting your husband's return while attempting to mentally prepare for the upcoming workday.
It had been a year since you met Seungcheol, and you had been married for six months. People remarked that you two were still in the honeymoon phase, a sentiment you couldn't deny. The longest time apart was a mere week, and when you were both home, the opportunity for intimacy was ever-present—bed, kitchen, home office, or even the car. Seungcheol cared little about the location as long as he could be close to you, witnessing your pleasure, and hearing you moan his name, a source of immense satisfaction and ego boost for him.
After nearly half an hour since your shared intimacy was interrupted, Seungcheol entered the bedroom, and you welcomed him with a smile, setting aside your device as he approached. However, your joy was short-lived as he dropped a bombshell— an urgent matter required his immediate attention, shattering the serene moment.
His apology hung in the air, and you gazed into his eyes, almost whispering, "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" His gaze met yours, and he replied, "I'm sorry, but everyone needs me." The weight of his words settled, and you nodded, offering him a kiss. He whispered a goodnight and covered you with a blanket.
As he prepared to leave, he assured you, "I'm going. If you need anything, Eunji is downstairs, okay?" The deep kiss on your forehead lingered, leaving you with a mix of understanding and a touch of loneliness as he walked away, duty calling him away from the warmth of your shared moments.
As you sat in your office, a sense of solitude crept in as hours passed without any news from Seungcheol. Reflecting on your father's words, "A big power would come with a big responsibility, Y/n," you realized the weight of the responsibilities that came with leading two prominent companies. You, as the director of Seri Corps, and Seungcheol, the owner of a property investment company dealing with hotels, apartments, residences, and department stores, found little time to break away from the demanding roles.
The constant influx of work surrounded your thoughts, echoing your father's wisdom. You yearned for a moment to confront Seungcheol's assistant, Kim Mingyu, about easing the workload on your husband. Simultaneously, you knew Seungcheol harbored similar thoughts about Myungho, your secretary.
Seungcheol's suggestion of taking a break from work and starting a family lingered in your mind. "How about a little break from work? It might end up with a cute baby like you..." he had expressed his desire to build a family since the early days of your marriage.
Initially hesitant, thoughts swirled in your mind. Could you be ready to be a mother? Your upbringing without a mother made you wary, but Seungcheol had gradually changed your perspective. His love, support, and dreams of a family with you had softened your reservations. You found yourself yearning for the joy of building a family with Seungcheol, confident that he would be an exceptional father, creating a world of happiness for your future children.
After a lengthy discussion with Seungcheol about starting a family, you took the decision to visit your ob-gyn and began the journey towards pregnancy. For the past three months, you had gradually reduced your workload, entrusting responsibilities to your younger brother, Lee Chan, while actively trying to conceive with your husband. Unbeknownst to Seungcheol, you had already been pregnant for four weeks, and the only person privy to this news was Myungho, your ever-attentive secretary.
Myungho had been a pillar of support, ensuring your well-being by sending nutritious meals and a glass of pregnancy milk to your desk every morning. He also exhibited consideration for your workload, making efforts to send you home before 6. This morning, upon entering the office, you found Myungho had prepared your favorite breakfast from a beloved restaurant, lifting your spirits from the previous night's glum mood.
Despite your gratitude, you declined Myungho's offer to check an anonymous file that had been delivered to you. As you enjoyed your meal, you informed him that you'd arrange for your own transportation home and would call upon Eunji, the bodyguard Seungcheol had assigned to you.
"Just in case," Seungcheol explained when he was questioned about the need for a bodyguard, triggering memories of a near altercation when you initially resisted the idea. You asserted your ability to protect yourself, having learned jiu-jitsu and basic shooting. However, that night, Seungcheol revealed a hidden compartment beside your bed containing a gun. Holding your wrists firmly, he calmly stated, "I'm not doing this because you're a woman, but because you're my woman," emphasizing his commitment to your safety.
*
"Are we heading home, mam?" Eunji inquired, her gaze alternating between the road and the rearview mirror, noting the exhaustion etched on your face. Concerned, she questioned you about it.
"Just tired, thanks for asking. Yes, we're going home, please," you replied with a smile, appreciating Eunji's thoughtful gesture. Myungho, attentive to the shifting atmosphere, was about to join the conversation, sensing your unease.
"I'm okay, Secretary Seo. You should go home," you reassured him before closing the car door, leaving Myungho behind as the car set off for your house.
Looking out the window, your reflection mirrored the complex emotions brewing within you. As you questioned Eunji about your husband's whereabouts, her lips tightened, emphasizing her reluctance to share such information.
You hadn't received any news from Seungcheol today, a departure from the usual routine. While you recognized the demands of his busy schedule, today was different; a yearning for his comforting presence intensified, especially with the added vulnerability brought on by the pregnancy.
The familiar presence of threats was not new to you, but today brought a different kind of menace. A letter arrived this morning, accompanied by pictures and a USB. The images depicted Seungcheol in the company of an unidentified person, taken just hours after he left you the previous night. The revelation injected a new level of tension into an already uncertain day.
As you connected the USB, the file unfolded a chilling conversation between Seungcheol and his uncle, Choi Junggan. The revelation shook you to the core as they discussed plans to take control of Seri Department Store, a place with deep roots in your family history.
"We need her to hand you the Seri Department Store this year," Choi Junggan's voice declared, triggering disbelief and confusion within you. Seungcheol's voice, usually a source of comfort, uttered words that contradicted everything he had ever said to you.
Frozen in your car seat, you listened as Seungcheol acknowledged his role in the plan, vowing to gain your trust to further their hidden agenda. The shock reverberated through you, and doubts about the authenticity of your relationship took hold.
Arriving home, you rushed to your shared office, desperate to find evidence that would contradict the betrayal you had just uncovered. Each desk you searched only intensified the sinking feeling in your gut. Stumbling upon a hidden map and recalling the secret desk with a concealed gun, fear gripped you.
Questions raced through your mind—was Seungcheol planning something sinister? Was he preparing to harm you? The shivers intensified as you discovered a Memorandum of Understanding signed by your father and Seungcheol's father, outlining a deal that involved transferring the Seri Department Store to Seri Corps to settle debts. A chilling note from Seungcheol himself accompanied the document, vowing retribution for the suffering caused by Seri Corps.
The foundation of your trust crumbled as you grappled with the harsh reality that Seungcheol might have used you to fulfill a hidden agenda, driven by a desire for revenge against your family. The love and assurances you believed in were now clouded by a chilling revelation, leaving you in a state of shock and betrayal.
Click
In the sudden darkness, every creak of the floor beneath your cautious steps echoed through the house, a symphony of dread playing in the silence. The weight of the unknown assailant's presence hung heavily, suffocating the very air you breathed. Your trembling fingers fumbled for your phone, desperation rising as you attempted to call Eunji for help, but the device felt foreign and cumbersome in your anxious grip.
Before the call could connect, a vice-like grip clamped around you from behind, the cold edge of a knife pressing menacingly against your neck. Panic set in, and your mind raced through the horrifying possibilities of what this intruder might do. The chilling voice that whispered into your ear shattered any semblance of security, laying bare a sinister knowledge about your husband's actions.
"Have you found out about who your husband truly is?"
As you closed your eyes, you clung to a prayer for rescue, desperately hoping that someone, anyone, would come to your aid in this supposedly secure haven. The slight pain from the knife's pressure served as a cruel reminder of the peril you found yourself in, each second dragging like an eternity.
Summoning the courage to question the intruder, you choked out, "Who sent you?" The tightening grip around your neck conveyed a chilling refusal to answer, and the revelation hinted at a darker truth about Seungcheol, unraveling the very fabric of the reality you once believed in.
"The person who sent me wants the department store you have."
In a surreal twist, the lights flickered back on, momentarily blinding both you and your assailant. Seizing the opportunity, you instinctively flipped away from the unknown threat, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprinted towards the bedroom. The slam of the door, the metallic click of the lock, and the thudding of your own heartbeat created a cacophony of tension in the enclosed space.
As you sought the hidden gun, the room felt like a battleground, the seconds ticking away in sync with your frantic breaths. Dialing Myungho, your voice trembled with urgency, "Send police to my house, someone's trespassing and tried to hurt me!" The air became charged with a sense of impending danger as you awaited assistance, realizing that the sanctuary of your home had been shattered, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to a threat that had breached even the most intimate corners of your life.
*
Seungcheol's heart raced as he sped towards home, two police cars in tow. The tension in the air was palpable, and he exchanged a concerned glance with Kim Mingyu, who was navigating through the traffic while contacting the dispatcher for an alternative route. However, the gravity of the situation became evident when Mingyu's expression shifted, and their eyes met in the rearview mirror.
"They are heading to your house, sir," Mingyu relayed the alarming news.
Seungcheol's furrowed eyebrows betrayed his growing anxiety. "What do you mean?"
Mingyu swiftly removed his earpiece and pressed harder on the gas pedal. "Someone's trespassing your house and trying to hurt Mrs. Choi."
Upon arrival, Seungcheol rushed into the house, his senses heightened by the impending threat. The scene unfolded before him – you seated on the kitchen counter, Myungho tending to a wound on your neck, and police officers meticulously investigating the incident. The sight cut through Seungcheol like a knife, and his eyes locked onto yours as he approached.
Without a word, he enveloped you in his arms, a mixture of relief and concern etched across his face. The chaos in the house seemed to fade into the background as Seungcheol held you close, silently vowing to protect you from any harm that dared to breach the sanctuary you both called home.
Seungcheol's concern was evident as he gently inspected the wound on your neck, his expression softening in a mix of worry and tenderness. Faced with the undeniable proof of your vulnerability, he couldn't help but ask, "What did he do to you?"
A hesitant smile played on your lips as you replied, "So you know him..."
Myungho, ever considerate, discreetly stepped away, allowing the two of you a moment of privacy. Seungcheol's eyes remained fixed on yours, a silent acknowledgment of the tumultuous situation that had unfolded.
Pulling you into his protective embrace once again, Seungcheol's concern escalated into frustration. He directed his anger toward Mingyu, demanding to know why there wasn't proper security in place when the intrusion occurred. Mingyu bowed apologetically, promising to investigate the lapse.
As the commotion settled, Seungcheol engaged with the police officers, his anger simmering as he learned the details of the trespasser's actions. His insistence on swift justice was clear, emphasizing that whoever had harmed you should be held accountable.
Once the room cleared and additional security measures were put in place, Seungcheol finally had the chance to sit with you. As you handed him the file of the Department Store Ownership Transfer, a heavy silence filled the room. The shared understanding between you two spoke volumes, acknowledging the depth of the betrayal that had unfolded.
In that moment, the room held the weight of unspoken emotions, and Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you.
The room hung heavy with the weight of revelation as you confronted Seungcheol. The truth, once hidden in the shadows, now stood exposed, unraveling the carefully woven fabric of your marriage.
"He wants Seri Department Store," you mumbled, your arms crossed, standing defiantly before Seungcheol. Frustration radiated from you as you ran your hand through your hair, grappling with the gravity of the situation that had unfolded.
"My life," you paused, "was worth of that store!"
Seungcheol shook his head, attempting to deny the painful reality. "Baby, no..."
"Don't call me that! You had the same intention!" The words burst out from you, a sharp accusation that hung in the air. It was a yell, a rupture in the calm facade of your marriage.
"You've been lying to me..." your voice faded, replaced by hot tears streaming down your cheeks. The vulnerability you revealed was a stark contrast to the stoic persona you had been trained to adopt.
Seungcheol's throat went dry, words catching in the tangled web of emotions. He took a deep breath, his heart breaking as he witnessed you, the strong and composed figure, breaking down in front of him. Wiping your own tears away, you showed a side that was rarely seen by anyone.
In that moment, Seungcheol loathed himself for causing the tears and hated that he couldn't be the one to comfort you. "I never lied to you," he finally uttered, but the truth seemed feeble against the magnitude of the situation.
You threw a letter at him, a tangible representation of the deceit that had taken root. "Then what is it? You're trying to fool me by marrying me. You're into my property, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's voice matched your intensity, "Yes, I was! But I've been delaying..." His tone softened, desperation lacing his words. "Because I fell for you, for real. And I've been trying to stop my uncle for the revenge."
The room echoed with Seungcheol's explanation, his vulnerability laid bare. This was a side of him you had never seen before, and in this moment, as he bared his soul, the fragile bridge between betrayal and redemption trembled in the air.
In that vulnerable moment, Seungcheol shed the facade of superiority and power that he often wore. Tonight, he laid bare his emotions, doing everything in his power to make you believe in the sincerity of his love for you.
"I'm aiming for a hotel abroad and offered him the condition that we won't involve anyone from Lee Family, from your family, including you. He agreed. But little did I know he had sent someone to hurt you." Seungcheol approached you, gently rubbing your arms before his hand traced the tender area on your neck.
"They hurt you," he declared with fiery intensity in his eyes. Seungcheol sighed, his chest filled with anger, and he closed his eyes, seeking solace in looking at your face. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything."
Your hand caressed his cheek, and your lips met in a kiss that started calm and slowly transformed into something more passionate and charged with desire. As the kiss broke, leaving both of you gasping for air, his eyes opened, fixated on you.
"Promise me, this won't happen again," you whispered, and he immediately nodded. His lips sought yours again, but you playfully dodged, pulling your head away from him.
He looked at you with longing, whispering, "Baby..."
You licked your lips, making a demand, "Say that you love me."
"I love you," he replied without hesitation.
"Say that I'm more than that store." Your hands roamed to his stomach, then gradually went down to his hardness. Seungcheol groaned under your touch, "You're more than that, baby. You're worth the world," he whispered into your ear. His hands explored the warmth of your skin under your blouse, his member pressing against you.
"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling the hem of your blouse. You nodded, and soon both of you stood there, stripped of the barriers that concealed your vulnerability.
He kissed your lips again, guiding your hands to his shoulders. "I love you, I love you so much." The words hung in the air, reaffirming the bond that transcended the complexities of the world outside.
*
Myungho entered your room, holding the file that contained detailed information about Choi Junggan, your husband's influential uncle who seemed to have a significant impact on Seungcheol's life since the passing of his parents.
"How about the guy who attacked me last night?" you inquired, your focus shifting from the file to Myungho. As you scanned Junggan's list of properties and business history, you nodded in acknowledgment, recognizing the extent of Junggan's influence on Seungcheol's business trajectory.
"Cops captured him. He hasn't said anything about the person who hired him. But it's definitely Choi Junggan. He's the only one who's into your property," Myungho revealed, shedding light on the tangled web of motives and alliances.
Seungcheol's revelation from the previous night suddenly made a lot more sense. While delving into the file Myungho had handed you, a realization struck you—the depth of Junggan's control over Seungcheol's life since the tragic loss of his parents when he was just a high schooler.
Understanding that Seungcheol, as the sole heir to his parents, had been manipulated by Junggan to make your family pay for something you were yet to uncover, you recognized that the only way to unveil the truth was by confronting the man himself. The file in your hands became a key to unraveling the intricate layers of a past that had been concealed for far too long.
"Could you do me a favor, Secretary Seo?" you inquired, and Myungho nodded politely, ready to assist. "What is it, Mrs. Choi?" he asked.
"Are you personally close to Kim Mingyu?" you questioned, prompting a quizzical expression from Myungho. He responded, "I guess, we regularly meet at the pub blocks away from your house."
A smile played on your lips as you outlined your request, "I need you to find out about the properties my husband has been eyeing recently, possibly around Hong Kong and Singapore. I need all the details."
Myungho, respecting your privacy, sought clarification, "May I know what this is for, ma'am?"
"I want to buy them first, before my husband could," you calmly stated, leaning back in your seat. Myungho noted the determination in your eyes and quickly understood that Choi Seungcheol had underestimated the strength he was up against.
After few hours, a familiar figure approached your office. Seungcheol, clearly agitated, entered the room after signaling Mingyu and Myungho to stay outside. Your eyes met, and you became aware that your husband, Choi Seungcheol, had an undeniable issue with anger. He took control of the switchable glass, making the room opaque, a move that intensified his presence. He looks so hot like this.
"I thought I made it clear this morning that you shouldn't be at work after what happened last night?" Seungcheol voiced his concern, frustration evident in his demeanor.
You nonchalantly replied, "I was safer here than in your house, Seungcheol," rising from your seat and approaching him.
Seungcheol sighed, massaging his temples, "Baby, please don't do anything."
Your hands gestured in confusion, "I don't do anything," you replied with a shrug.
Concerned about the dangers posed by his uncle, Seungcheol attempted to explain, "My uncle, he could be pretty dangerous."
Understanding his apprehension, you nodded, "He is. Great to hear that you and I are seeing him from the same boat."
Seungcheol stepped forward, gently grabbing your hand and placing it on his cheek. Closing his eyes, he savored the softness of your touch before pecking your hand. As he opened his eyes, a soft smile adorned his face.
"Trust me, please," he earnestly begged, "Trust me, baby. I'll take care of him."
You bit your lip, confessing, "I want to help you."
Seungcheol shook his head, "I don't want you to get hurt. You were almost... killed last night. I won't ever let that happen again."
You nodded, whispering, "I know," and offering him a reassuring smile.
Attempting to steer the conversation back to a professional tone, you asked, "What are you doing here, by the way?"
Seungcheol, catching the shift, followed suit, "I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Lee. Surprised to learn that it wasn't you leading the meeting with investors."
Concerned for your well-being, he inquired, "Are you okay?"
You assured him with a nod and a quick response, "I'm totally fine. I have a business trip to attend; I'll be home pretty late tonight."
Seungcheol nodded in understanding, seeking more details, "Where to?"
With a calm smile, you disclosed, "Singapore."
*
"Okay, you got my attention now..." Junggan's voice resonated from the phone speaker as Myungho handed you his phone, subtly mouthing, "Choi Junggan."
You chuckled upon hearing his first words, "Great to know that. You started it first by sending a poor man into my house," you replied, gazing out the window at the nighttime view of Incheon as the plane descended.
Junggan's laughter echoed through the call, "What a feisty girl! Yeah, Seungcheol has captured him, hasn't he? He was honest when he said he loves you."
A smile touched your lips, "Why? Is it hurting you? That your 'one and only doll' finally betrayed you? He's not a doll, Choi Junggan. He's your nephew."
Junggan scoffed, getting straight to the point, "What do you want?"
"Stop controlling my husband, and I'll give you the hotel," you proposed, offering a straightforward agreement.
You could hear the old man laughing, "You really bought a hotel just for my nephew?"
You sighed, "He's not just your nephew; he's my husband."
A sly smile crept into Junggan's voice, "But his worth is more than a hotel, isn't he?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity. Even in this situation, with you acquiring properties he had his eyes on in Singapore, Junggan remained arrogantly composed. The negotiation had just begun, and it seemed like dealing with him would be a game of wit and strategy.
"A hotel and 3% of your department store shares?" Junggan negotiated in a sly tone.
"Here's the thing, Mr. Choi," you paused, "I actually want to give you the department store. I thought about that, honestly." You could sense his excitement at the prospect. "However, I don't think my late mother-in-law would be happy if I give her precious building to someone who has been very deceitful and manipulative toward her son, Mr. Choi," you continued, and your words resulted in a moment of silence.
A confident smile played on your lips; you knew you had him.
There was a pregnant pause before he asked, "How do you know?" in a tone that betrayed his vulnerable point—Seungcheol's mother, a person Junggan held very dearly in his heart.
"I have my sources," you said, "just like you have Eunji as your source."
Before the phone call could reach its conclusion, Myungho subtly indicated that it was time to go, as Seungcheol and your grandfather were eagerly awaiting you for a late dinner.
"You need to decide, Mr. Choi. Time is ticking," you said before decisively ending the call. The negotiation had just begun, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at holding the upper hand.
The starry night welcomed your landing at the international airport, and you were ready to disembark when Myungho suddenly announced that he had left an important file on his seat. He urged you to go ahead since your car was already waiting outside. Unusual for Myungho, who typically had other business to attend to, you signaled your new driver to head home immediately.
As you traversed the city streets, a notification alerted you to a text from Myungho. With a sigh, you muttered, "He won't ever let me rest," before opening the message. A shiver ran down your spine as Myungho requested that you inform Seokmin, one of Seungcheol's drivers, that Myungho would be waiting for him in his office since he couldn't reach him personally.
You put your phone down, inhaling a heavy sigh silently. Seokmin was assigned to drive you home, but whoever was behind the wheel of this car was certainly not Seokmin. You refrained from looking at him, sensing that he had been eyeing you through the rearview mirror. In response, you swiftly sent Myungho your location with a concise message:
"Send me help."
*
Seungcheol's heart raced as Mingyu delivered the alarming news of your kidnapping on the way home from the airport. His mind immediately pointed fingers at his own uncle, considering the recent threatening call and the ominous words echoing in his ears: "Betray me again, I'll let you know the consequence."
He had been cautious, attempting to shield you from the dangerous business involving Choi Junggan. However, your determination to help him and seek revenge had taken an unexpected turn. When Mingyu, panic-stricken, revealed that you had purchased the property intended for Seungcheol's uncle, the pieces fell into place. You aimed to confront Junggan directly.
Seungcheol had just spoken with his uncle an hour ago, and now the shocking news of your kidnapping left him reeling. It appeared Junggan had anticipated Seungcheol's plan, orchestrating a betrayal that ran deeper than Seungcheol initially thought. The threat wasn't just about revenge; it was a move calculated to protect his money laundering activities.
During Seungcheol's time as Junggan's assistant, he had diligently documented evidence of his uncle's illicit activities. Those notes and additional proof could be the leverage needed to finally put Junggan behind bars. As a mix of fear and determination surged through Seungcheol, he knew he had to act swiftly to save you and dismantle the dangerous web his uncle had woven.
As Seungcheol continued to make urgent calls to his lawyer, Mingyu updated him on the situation. The news of Seokmin found unconscious at the airport heightened the tension. Mingyu, sitting in the driver's seat, couldn't hide his frustration as he chuckled angrily. Your location, frozen for the past 10 minutes, signaled that the kidnappers might have discarded your phone.
"Myungho has informed the police to track your wife's location. They must have thrown her phone," Mingyu reported, the concern for your safety evident in his voice.
Seungcheol sighed, realizing the urgency of the situation. In a moment of clarity, he remembered placing a GPS on your wedding ring, a precaution due to your tendency not to update him about your whereabouts. Swiftly, he shared your latest location with Mingyu, who promptly relayed the information to Myungho and the authorities. The race against time had begun, and Seungcheol couldn't shake off the fear that gripped his heart, praying that they would reach you in time.
"Sir.."
Seungcheol's heartbeat quickened as Mingyu's revelation about Myungho having something important to share reached his ears. The car's atmosphere shifted into an air of tension, each passing second increasing Seungcheol's anxiety. Mingyu, with a look of concern on his face, executed the announcement with a gravity that made Seungcheol's gut twist.
As the speaker crackled to life, Myungho's voice trembled slightly, an unusual undertone of nervousness underscoring his usually composed demeanor. Seungcheol's instincts sharpened, sensing that whatever news was about to be delivered carried weight.
"Sir, I'm sorry for not telling you this before," Myungho began, the apologetic tone heightening the tension in the car. A heavy sigh punctuated the pause before he revealed the bombshell, "But your wife..."
The moment hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Seungcheol's mind raced, contemplating what revelation could follow, unaware that the news about to unfold would reshape the stakes of the impending rescue mission.
"She's pregnant."
Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as the revelation about your pregnancy echoed through the speaker in the car. The gravity of the situation suddenly multiplied, intertwining the fear for your safety with the concern for the life growing inside you. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and for a moment, he felt a mix of emotions—fear, panic, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.
Mingyu, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced at Seungcheol with worry etched on his face. Seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts.
"Myungho, I... Thank you for letting me know," Seungcheol finally responded, his voice carrying a mixture of shock and concern. The news added an extra layer of urgency to the already critical situation. The thought of you, pregnant and in danger, fueled his determination to bring you back safely.
"Let's focus on getting her safely," Seungcheol instructed, his tone more resolute. The drive to rescue you became not only a mission to save his wife but also an imperative to protect the life growing within you.
Opposite to the confidence in his words, Seungcheol's hands tightened on his phone. A sharp pang of guilt surging through him like a current. The revelation of your pregnancy, a joyous occasion under different circumstances, now bore the weight of his past actions. Learning that you hadn't shared this significant news with him triggered an ache in his chest, a feeling of betrayal intertwined with remorse.
As he absorbed the reality of your pregnancy, Seungcheol couldn't escape the haunting guilt that you might perceive his lack of knowledge as a testament to your distrust. He couldn't shake the notion that your choice to keep this life-altering secret from him was a consequence of the distrust seeded by his initial motives for marrying you. The revelation of his original intentions – driven by revenge against your family – added a layer of complexity to his guilt, a realization that his past deeds were casting a long shadow over your relationship.
The darkness of the night seemed to mirror the turmoil within Seungcheol's mind. He wanted to protect you, cherish you, and share in the joy of impending parenthood, but the ghosts of his actions stood as barriers between them. The weight of guilt pressed on him, magnified by the realization that your silence might be a form of self-preservation.
In the confined space of the car, the echo of Myungho's revelation resonated with Seungcheol's internal struggle. Your trust, or lack thereof, became a tangible force, a barrier he needed to dismantle. As he raced against time to rescue you, Seungcheol grappled with the urgency to bridge the emotional distance that had unwittingly grown between you. He yearned not just to save you physically but to rebuild the trust that now seemed more fragile than ever.
The phone rang, and Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as he saw the caller ID – his uncle. Answering with a trembling hand, he braced himself for the chilling exchange that awaited him.
His uncle's voice, dripping with malevolence, cut through the silence of the car. "Seungcheol, my boy, I see you're on your way to retrieve your dear wife."
Seungcheol's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Let her go, uncle. This ends tonight."
A sinister chuckle resonated through the line. "Oh, but my dear nephew, it's just the beginning. You see, you've been quite the disappointment, trying to dismantle my plans."
The image of you, bound and unconscious, flashed on Seungcheol's phone screen, and his breath caught in his throat. His uncle's voice continued, each word a venomous threat. "I've sent you a little preview of what's to come. A taste of the pain she'll endure unless you comply with my demands."
Seungcheol's jaw clenched, a mixture of fear and rage fueling his determination. "Enough of this, Junggan. I won't let you harm her any further. Tell me what you want."
His uncle reveled in the power he held. "Simple, my boy. You come alone, or she pays the price. I've arranged a charming little place for our reunion. You have twenty minutes, Seungcheol."
The connection severed, leaving Seungcheol with a chilling ultimatum. The car accelerated, racing against time, each passing second amplifying the desperation in his heart. The road blurred beneath the car's tires, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions raging within him.
In the dimly lit room where you were held captive, your unconscious form became a pawn in this deadly game. The timer ticked down, a countdown to a confrontation that would determine not only your fate but the unraveling of a family's twisted legacy.
Seungcheol arrived at the designated location, the eerie silence of the abandoned building sending a shiver down his spine. He motioned for everyone to stay back, keeping a solemn promise to Junggan, who had threatened unspeakable harm if he defied the rules. Mingyu stood by his side, holding back your team and Myungho as Seungcheol ventured into the decaying structure by himself.
The building exhaled a musty breath, its walls stained with the remnants of a dark past. Shadows danced ominously in the corners, and the creaking floorboards echoed through the desolate halls. The air hung heavy with tension, a palpable reminder of the impending confrontation.
As hedelved deeper into the labyrinthine structure, the distant sound of a knife being sharpened reached Seungcheol's ears. Each scrape against the blade reverberated through the corridors, amplifying the sinister ambiance of the place. The echoes seemed to mock him, a haunting reminder of the imminent danger that lurked in the shadows.
Your captor's sadistic preparation was evident, the chilling sounds intertwining with the apprehensive silence, painting a grim picture of the confrontation ahead. Seungcheol tightened his grip on the makeshift weapon he had grabbed on his way in, steeling himself for the horrors that awaited him within the dimly lit recesses of the old building.
In the eerie ambiance of the dilapidated building, Seungcheol cautiously followed the echoes of his uncle's cold welcome, each step a tense reminder of the impending confrontation. The air was heavy with anticipation as he approached the dimly lit room, the shadows casting an ominous backdrop to the unfolding drama.
As Seungcheol entered, the scene before him unveiled a tableau of despair. There you were, seated vulnerably on a worn-out chair, your eyes reflecting a mix of fear and relief at the sight of him. A masked figure, an ominous silhouette in the dim light, stood menacingly beside you, wielding a gleaming knife at your neck—a silent threat that echoed through the room.
Junggan, concealed in shadows, initiated the negotiation, his demands echoing with a sinister undertone. The metallic edge of the blade against your skin served as a cruel incentive for Seungcheol to heed his uncle's commands. A choice lingered in the air—sacrifice his empire or risk harm befalling you.
Seungcheol, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, dared to question his uncle's malevolence. "Why, Uncle? What satisfaction do you derive from causing such pain? Is revenge worth the torment you're inflicting?"
In response, Junggan unraveled a tapestry of resentment and bitterness. He confessed that his hatred stemmed from the belief that Seungcheol wasn't his son but the offspring of the brother who had allegedly stripped him of everything.
Seungcheol, eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and desperation, couldn't fathom the depth of his uncle's resentment. "Is this the only way you see to settle your grievances, Uncle? To use me, to hurt her? What did she ever do to you?"
Junggan, his voice dripping with venom, responded with a sinister chuckle. "You've always been the pawn, Seungcheol. A pawn in my game for justice. Your existence is a constant reminder of what was taken from me."
As the masked figure tightened their grip on the knife, you winced, and Seungcheol's resolve solidified. "If it's revenge you seek, hurt me, not her. She has nothing to do with your vendetta."
A wicked smile played on Junggan's lips. "But that's where you're wrong, Seungcheol. She's entwined in this web of revenge just by being a part of your life. The Lee family took everything from me, and now, through you, I'll take everything from them."
Seungcheol's fists clenched, grappling with the reality of his uncle's malevolence. "There has to be another way, Uncle. We can find a resolution without resorting to this brutality. I'm willing to face consequences, but spare her from this."
Junggan, unmoved by Seungcheol's plea, continued to press his demands. "Relinquish your shares and your position, or her suffering will be just the beginning. Your family will pay for the pain they've inflicted on mine."
In the tense exchange, Seungcheol's mind raced, searching for a solution that would save you from the impending danger. The cold metallic resonance of a sharpening knife underscored the urgency of his decision, knowing that every passing moment brought you closer to the brink of harm.
The reminiscence of past grievances escaped from Junggan's mouth—the CEO status taken by Seungcheol's father, the love of his life, Seungcheol's mother, passed away after an accident made by Lee Family after a debt they couldn't afford. Betrayed by the nephew he saw as a means to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his, Junggan revealed that Seungcheol's actions had thwarted his grand plan for vengeance, fueling a burning desire to settle the score against a family he deemed responsible for his life's misfortunes. Desperate to thwart the unfolding tragedy that hung heavily in the air, his voice quivered with a potent mix of fear, anger, and an enduring undercurrent of love that defied the years of familial discord.
Seungcheol's plea cut through the tense silence, the gravity of the situation reflected in the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Uncle, you can't let this happen. There has to be another way. I won't let you harm her," Seungcheol implored, his eyes betraying a deep-seated concern for you, the woman he loved.
Junggan, shrouded in malevolence, reveled in the chaos he had orchestrated. His response dripped with vindictiveness.
"Seungcheol, you were always naive. You're a mother's son indeed, but you've betrayed your bloodline by siding with the Lees. Her family took everything from me!" Junggan's voice echoed through the desolate space, carrying the weight of years of perceived injustice.
Seungcheol, clinging to a glimmer of hope, pleaded for reason.
"I can't change the past, but causing harm won't right those wrongs. This cycle needs to end," he urged, his gaze unwavering despite the ominous figure holding a knife to your neck.
Junggan, driven by a festering bitterness, pressed on with his ultimatum.
"Your father and your in-laws stripped me of everything. Now, you'll pay the price unless you give up your shares and the CEO position," Junggan declared, the shadows accentuating the grim determination etched on his face.
Seungcheol, sensing an opening, sought common ground in an attempt to alter the course of events.
"I know you loved my mother. Is this what she would want? Revenge? Darkness?" he questioned, hoping to kindle a spark of humanity in his uncle's hardened heart.
A moment of hesitation flickered in Junggan's eyes, caught between the allure of vengeance and the echoes of a love that once defined him.
Seungcheol seized the moment, his voice resolute as he proposed an alternative.
"Let's find a way out of this darkness, together."
Seungcheol, desperation etched across his face, pleaded with his uncle. "See me as my mother's son then, as someone's son you truly loved. Is this what she would have wanted for us? For me to cause harm to the ones I care about?"
Junggan's cold gaze wavered for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of humanity breaking through the hardened exterior. Seungcheol seized the opportunity, buying precious seconds, knowing you were attempting to free yourself from the restraints.
"I know you've suffered, Uncle. I can't change the past, but I refuse to perpetuate this cycle of pain. Let her go, and we can find a way to heal, to break free from this darkness."
The room hung in a tense pause, Seungcheol's words echoing as he desperately sought a crack in his uncle's resolve. As you managed to loosen the ropes around your hands, you prepared to make your move.
Unable to sway Junggan, Seungcheol saw your decisive action. In a split second, you turned the tables on the masked assailant behind you, catching them off guard. Seungcheol seized the distraction, lunging at his uncle, attempting to overpower him and put an end to the sinister plan unfolding in that dimly lit room.
The deafening sound of a gunshot pierced the air, sending shockwaves through the dimly lit room. In a twist of fate, the bullet veered off course, sparing you but hitting the masked assailant square in the chest. The mysterious figure crumpled to the ground, revealing the chaotic tableau that unfolded before you.
Seungcheol, reacting with primal instinct, unleashed a barrage of punches on his uncle, Choi Junggan, driven by a potent mix of fury and the need to protect you. The room echoed with the collision of fists against flesh, a visceral symphony of retribution.
Heart pounding, you sprinted toward the chaotic scene, brandishing the knife you had managed to acquire. Desperation fueled your every step as you aimed for Junggan, determined to end the threat he posed. But the abrupt sound of another gunshot halted your advance, freezing you in place.
A searing pain gripped Seungcheol's stomach as he staggered back, a look of disbelief in his eyes. The room seemed to warp as your husband, once a pillar of strength, struggled to maintain consciousness. Panic clawed at your throat as you rushed to his side, frantically calling his name.
Meanwhile, the room buzzed with the arrival of law enforcement, finally catching up to Choi Junggan's malevolent pursuits. He was apprehended, the weight of his crimes hanging heavy as he was led away in custody. Mingyu and Myungho, responding swiftly, joined the chaotic scene.
Fingers trembling, you cupped Seungcheol's face, desperately trying to keep him conscious. The room spun, an unwelcome dance of disorientation as you fought against panic threatening to consume you. Mingyu and Myungho, sensing the urgency, swiftly called for paramedics, their voices a cacophony in the chaotic aftermath.
Seungcheol's eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on your face. The pain etched across his features intensified your desperation. "Stay with me, Seungcheol," you pleaded, your voice cracking with a mixture of fear and determination.
Myungho ushered the paramedics into the room, and their swift, practiced movements conveyed a sense of urgency. Assessing Seungcheol's condition, they worked efficiently to stabilize him. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the lingering tension in the room as they set to work.
Mingyu, his expression etched with concern, hovered nearby, a silent pillar of support. The paramedics, clad in their clinical attire, exchanged urgent words, and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment became a lifeline, a fragile connection to hope amid the chaos.
As Seungcheol was carefully placed onto a stretcher, your hand found his, the warmth of your touch a reassurance. "You're going to be okay," you whispered, more a declaration to yourself than to him, as if willing the words to manifest into reality.
*
The next day dawned with an incessant buzz of media activity outside the hospital, a swarm of journalists hungry for details about the tumultuous events that unfolded the night before. Cameras clicked, microphones were thrust forward, and questions were fired in rapid succession, creating a chaotic backdrop to the already tense situation.
Mingyu and Myungho, the steadfast guardians in this storm, ensured you were shielded from the relentless media frenzy. Their combined efforts allowed you moments of respite, a precious chance to attend to Seungcheol's side while navigating the whirlwind of investigations and inquiries.
The hospital became a temporary sanctuary, its walls offering both refuge and scrutiny. You moved through the corridors with the weight of exhaustion and concern etched on your face. The ordeal had left a lasting impact, and the layers of shock and fear demanded a toll on your stamina.
Mingyu and Myungho orchestrated a delicate balance, managing the influx of information while insulating you from the relentless bombardment of reporters. Their dedication ensured that you could focus on being by Seungcheol's side, a quiet force in the midst of chaos.
Seungcheol remained unconscious, a silent figure in the sterile hospital room. The aftereffects of the surgery lingered in the air, and the medical equipment surrounding him hummed a somber melody of monitoring and healing. As you sat by his bedside, your gaze flitted between the rhythmic blips on the monitor and the unconscious figure before you.
In the periphery, Mingyu and Myungho dealt with legal matters, fielding inquiries, and liaising with the authorities to ensure justice prevailed. The investigation into Choi Junggan's malevolent actions continued, unveiling a tapestry of deception and betrayal.
The quiet hum of the hospital room enveloped you as you maintained a vigilant watch over Seungcheol, waiting for the moment when he would stir from his unconscious state. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere of hushed expectancy.
Days turned into nights, and your presence by Seungcheol's side remained unwavering. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors provided a constant backdrop, a metronome marking the passage of time in the silent room. Mingyu and Myungho, the ever-dedicated allies, took turns supporting you, ensuring you had moments to rest amidst the persistent vigil.
Then, a subtle change began to unfold. The stillness in the room seemed to shift, and Seungcheol's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the muted hospital lighting. The quiet anticipation gave way to a surge of relief as his gaze met yours.
For a moment, silence enveloped the room—a tableau where words seemed insufficient to capture the depth of emotions. You reached out, your hand finding his, and a faint smile played on Seungcheol's lips. The shared understanding transcended spoken language—a silent acknowledgment of the trials endured and the connection that persevered.
"My love," Seungcheol's voice, though weak, carried a resonance that resonated with the shared experiences of the tumultuous days. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air—apologies, gratitude, and the silent promise of a shared path forward.
Mingyu and Myungho, attuned to the subtle shifts in the room, discreetly stepped outside, giving you the space for this intimate reunion. The hospital surroundings faded into the background as you and Seungcheol navigated the unspoken intricacies of the journey you had weathered together.
The initial frailty in Seungcheol's voice strengthened, and he began to piece together the fragments of what had transpired during his unconscious interlude. As you recounted the events, Seungcheol's expressions mirrored a spectrum of emotions—from disbelief to anguish and, ultimately, a steely resolve.
Seungcheol's concern radiated as he carefully examined you, his eyes searching for any signs of injury. Your sigh carried a blend of exasperation and affection, and a soft slap on his arm punctuated your reassurance.
"Stop worrying me! You got shot, but luckily it didn't hit anything vital," you said, your words laced with relief. Yet, as the weight of the recent events pressed down, a tear found its way down your cheek, betraying the underlying emotions.
Seungcheol, witnessing your vulnerability, regarded you with a mix of disbelief and tenderness. "Hey, I'm okay now," he gently assured, reaching out to wipe away the escaping tears. "I'm fine, just some pain in my abs. Don't cry."
As Seungcheol's fingers brushed against your cheek, attempting to alleviate your tears, a nuanced connection unfolded. Your laughter, tinged with both relief and lingering anxiety, echoed in the hospital room. Seungcheol's fingers delicately wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that transcended the spoken words.
"I thought... I thought I almost lost you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. The emotions of the past days surged to the surface, and you found solace in Seungcheol's reassuring presence.
Seungcheol's thumb brushed against your cheek, capturing the stray teardrops. "You won't lose me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." His words carried a depth that resonated with the shared experiences, the trials that had tested the foundation of your relationship.
The intertwining of your fingers created a silent pact—an unspoken vow that traversed beyond the confines of the hospital room. The fragility of the moment, juxtaposed against the resilience you both exhibited, rendered the air charged with a profound understanding.
As the hospital surroundings faded into the background, you and Seungcheol navigated the uncharted territory of post-trauma healing. The physical wounds, while mending, paled in comparison to the emotional labyrinth that lay ahead.
Seungcheol's voice, a soothing cadence, broke the quietness. "We'll get through this, together. No more secrets, no more hidden agendas. Just us, facing whatever comes our way."
*
A week later, as Seungcheol was discharged from the hospital, you embarked on a dual mission—preparing a grand welcoming party for his return and orchestrating a surprise announcement of your pregnancy. The air was charged with anticipation, both for the joyous reunion and the revelation that would shape the next chapter of your lives.
Amidst managing company affairs and attending to Seungcheol's recovery, you meticulously planned the party, envisioning the moment when you would share the news with your closest circle. The guest list included your parents, Mingyu, and Myungho, each holding a special place in your journey.
Unbeknownst to you, Mingyu and Myungho had discreetly informed Seungcheol about the impending announcement, adding an extra layer of excitement to the occasion. They playfully briefed him on the need to feign surprise later, turning a heartfelt moment into a delightful act.
As Seungcheol made his way home, a swirl of nerves accompanied his anticipation. The idea of feigning surprise added a humorous twist to the heartfelt revelation, highlighting the camaraderie that had formed between him, Mingyu, and Myungho.
The echoes of laughter and warmth from the party venue set the stage for the surprise, with decorations and joyful chatter creating an atmosphere of celebration. You, with a radiant smile, welcomed everyone, your eyes holding the secret you were about to unveil.
Seungcheol, aware of the impending revelation, played his part with an endearing mix of anxiety and excitement. His eyes sparkled with the anticipation of a scripted surprise, concealing the joy that brewed within.
The party unfolded seamlessly, filled with genuine happiness, heartfelt congratulations, and a shared toast for the growing family. Amidst the festivities, Seungcheol's feigned surprise added a touch of playfulness, creating an unforgettable memory that blended sincerity with a lighthearted twist.
As you stood together, announcing the impending arrival of a new member to your family, the room brimmed with love and shared joy. The surprise element, a collaborative effort with Mingyu and Myungho, added a layer of laughter to the celebration, underscoring the support and unity that defined your close-knit circle.
As the echoes of laughter and celebration subsided, the warm glow of the party lingered in the air. The night wore on, and eventually, you found yourselves in the quiet intimacy of your home. The day's excitement had settled, leaving only the serene presence of you and Seungcheol, cuddling on the bed.
Seungcheol, ever the sweet and caring husband, wrapped his arms around you, creating a cocoon of comfort. The genuine happiness from the party still radiated from both of you, making the shared moments even more precious.
Hours ago, Seungcheol had brilliantly acted out the surprise of your pregnancy announcement, and now, in the quiet solitude of your bedroom, his tenderness shone through. He whispered words of love and anticipation, expressing his joy at the prospect of becoming a father. Every touch and caress conveyed the depth of his feelings, creating a cherished connection between you two.
"You know, Seungcheol," you began, your voice carrying a feigned hurt, "you didn't have to pretend to be surprised about the pregnancy. I know you already knew back in the hospital."
Seungcheol's expression shifted from affectionate to a mix of surprise and amusement. His eyes met yours, registering your playful accusation. You continued, maintaining the facade of being a little upset.
"I appreciate the effort, but I would have loved if you asked me about it in person," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Seungcheol, realizing the playful charade, chuckled softly. "You caught me," he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his lips. "I just wanted to go along with the surprise, make it special for you."
You let out a melodious laugh, the earlier faux-disappointment dissolving into shared amusement.
Seungcheol, still holding you close, caressed your cheek and spoke with a sincerity that touched your heart. "I just want every moment, every announcement, to be special for you, my love. Our journey together, especially with our little one on the way, means everything to me."
You smiled, your heart brimming with love for the man beside you. "And it is special, Seungcheol. More special than any surprise. I'm grateful for every moment we share."
He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, sealing the sentiment with affection. "I love you, more than words can express."
"I love you too, Seungcheol," you whispered, cherishing the quiet closeness of the night and the promises it held for your growing family. The future, once shrouded in uncertainty, now felt full of hope and the enduring strength of your bond.
As you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the echo of those three words lingered in the room, a sweet lullaby that embraced you in the warmth of love and the anticipation of a beautiful journey ahead.
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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years
Text
teach me - e.m. x fem!reader blurb
Summary: best friend!Eddie teaches inexperienced!reader how to kiss… among other things
a/n: i know this prompt has been written to exhaustion but I wanted to try putting my own little spin on it and use it as a warm up piece since I haven’t written in weeks
Cw: 18+, minors dni, kissing, making out, handjob, Eddie and reader are best friends, cuddling in the trailer, if st4 never happened
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It was movie night at Eddie’s place. You always went over to the trailer on Friday’s. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, was usually out at work, and you and Eddie never did anything more than order a pizza and check out a movie or two from Family Video.
Tonight’s movie was Pretty in Pink. Your choice, for obvious reasons, but you had to absolutely beg Eddie to watch it. You compromised by letting him choose the second movie for the night, which of course had to be a horror film.
You started the night with your movie. And once the pizza and snacks were eaten, you and Eddie had gone to lay down on the couch. You were on top of him, with your head on his chest and legs between his. You could feel the soft hum in his chest and the warmth of his body against yours.
He would absent-mindedly play with your hair or run his fingers along your back as you watched yet another Molly Ringwald movie, slowly adding itself to your collection of favorite movies.
You would make little comments here and there, like you usually do, and halfway through the movie, even Eddie had started getting into it.
“Nah babe, she should’ve ended up with Duckie,” he passionately exclaims at the scene where Andie arrives at the school dance and leaves Duckie for Blane. “And what kind of name even is Blane? It’s like, do you want your kid to be a dickhead?”
You laugh at his comment, silently agreeing.
You were sort of in a similar predicament to Andie. Well, except for the part where a popular boy takes an interest in you. But in a way, Eddie is like your Duckie. You’ve been friends for as long as you can remember and were always thick as thieves. Eddie knew you inside and out and you knew him better than anyone else.
In fact, there’s no one you can think of who could possibly take his place. There’s no one else you’d rather have movie nights or joy rides around town with than Eddie.
For some time, you’d been harboring a crush on Eddie, but you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way. He was your best friend, and his friendship meant way too much to you. You weren’t sure if your feelings for him would be worth the risk of losing him.
And for the time being, most of your friends already treated you like a couple, so you could at least pretend.
You continue to watch as the movie nears its end. You drag your fingertips along the fabric covering Eddie’s chest and watch as Andie goes outside and sees Blane. The shot transitions to a close up of Andie and Blane facing each other. And for a moment, they just look at each other, before moving close and just kissing each other. Their lips move swiftly and mouths connect like pieces of a puzzle. It’s hot. It’s passionate. It’s eager. You’ve never seen anything like it.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips and you tense up. Eddie feels you and turns his head toward you.
“Hey, you okay?”
You move your head from its comfortable place on his chest and look up at him, your faces inches apart.
You interlace your fingers together on the middle of his chest and prop yourself up a bit. You nod.
“You sure?” He asks, eyes cast down at you.
“Yeah,” you reply nervously. You turn your head to look back at the screen and engulf the view before you. Andie and Blane have their arms tightly wrapped around each other, like they want to be as close to each other as humanly possible. And the way they kiss is just… like they hunger for the other. Like they’re in a desert and the other person’s lips are the only source of water for miles.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that.” You furrow your brows and cock your head to the side. The vision of such a passionate kiss stirs something deep inside you that you had no idea existed until now.
Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, “You mean, a french kiss?”
You look back at him and into his eyes before timidly looking away. The credits begin to roll and you move from your place atop him to sit on the other side of the couch.
“Yeah, but like, a really… I don’t know… Aggressive one. Usually in the movies it’s like a soft kiss that only lasts for a moment or two. But that? That was like…,” you breathily explain, not even sure how to articulate what you just saw or how it made you feel.
Eddie looks at you in amused confusion. He sits up and leans forward to comfortingly run his hand along your calf.
“Do people really kiss like that?”
Eddie shrugs and nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up.
Eddie chuckles, “There’s a lot of different ways to kiss, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you gasp and look away, lost in thought.
“You’ve never been kissed like that?” Eddie asks curiously.
Now, being best friends with Eddie means he knows a lot about you, even the fact that your experience with kissing and touching is, well… minimal to say the least. And if it weren’t for Eddie’s relaxed and supportive demeanor, you probably never would have told anyone else.
“Eddie, I mean, if something like that happened to me, I’m pretty sure I’d tell you.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at the thought. The vision of you kissing another boy that wasn’t him like that almost makes him sick.
“What about that kid Kenny from summer camp? Didn’t you say you guys kissed?”
You make the noise of a scoff that turns into a laugh, “Yeah, but Eddie, c’mon, that was middle school. When middle schoolers kiss, it’s just a peck on the lips, if that.”
Eddie nods and looks away for a moment. You can see the gears turning in his head, but have no idea what he might say next.
“So that’s the most you’ve ever been kissed? Just a peck?” He asks in an inquisitive tone. Like he’s not asking to make fun of her, but to get a better picture in his mind of the extent of her physical experience.
“Um, yeah I guess. When you put it like that,” you reply, shyness slowly taking over.
Sex and anything physical wasn’t exactly off limits for you and Eddie. If anything, he was probably the only person you ever felt comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with. But it was all… a bit theoretical. At least for you.
Eddie was objectively much more experienced than you. He’s even told you stories of the things he’d done. When you were younger, it was interesting to hear because you knew so little. It was like Eddie was your teacher, transmitting whatever knowledge he learned through his experience to you.
But as you got older and he continued to have these experiences while you didn’t, it began to feel intimidating to think of just how much more experienced he was than you. Especially now.
Surprisingly, you’d never really thought of doing any of those things with Eddie. For some reason, he always felt off limits in that way. There were a few times where you caught yourself thinking of what it would be like to kiss him and it always made your chest feel warm. But you could never bring yourself to think of doing anything with him past that. It just felt too invasive or intense.
And besides, it’s not like he would ever think of you that way, right?
“Well, do you want to know what it feels like?” He looks at you.
“Huh,” you ask, shaking away the thoughts you just had.
“Do you want to know what it feels like,” he repeats, briefly looking over at the tv and back to you.
You cock your head to the side. “You mean, french kissing? Like that?”
Eddie nods.
“Um, yeah, I guess so. It looks like it would feel nice, but, you know, it’s probably gonna be a while till I actually do.”
Eddie cocks a brow up.
“Because I’m not dating anyone. And there’s not exactly a whole line of suitors waiting down the block just to–”
“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there princess,” Eddie laughs as he waves his hand. He shakes his head and scoots closer to your place on the couch. “What I meant was, if you want to know what that sort of kiss feels like, you can always try it with me.”
You jerk your head back slightly and widen your eyes, “What?”
“It could be like practice.”
You gasp and look between his eyes. There’s no way Eddie just said that. Your lips are slightly ajar, ready to give some sort of sarcastic response you always give, but you come up with nothing.
“Are you… You’re serious?”
Eddie softly smiles, the kind that makes your insides turn to goo. He nods, “It’s ok, babe. I don’t mind showing you the ropes.”
You gasp and roll your eyes but then they accidentally roll to the back of your head.
“If you want to. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”
You blink rapidly, trying to wrap your mind around the offer he’s just thrown on the table, quite haphazardly you might add.
“Would you really do that Eddie,” you ask incredulously.
“Sure, why not?”
“Eddie, you're being way too cavalier about this,” You nervously chuckle.
Eddie furrows his brows in confusion.
“This-This is a big ask Eddie. I have no idea how you’re being so casual about this.”
Eddie shrugs, “You’re my best friend. I would do it for you.”
Eddie wants to kiss you as a friend? Because he cares about you as a friend? This just isn’t making sense.
“Why?”
“I know you’ve been waiting for a while. Probably for that special someone, right? I know I’m not exactly him, but I think I’m pretty damn close.”
Oh Eddie, you have no idea.
“Besides, as your best friend, I think it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re prepared for when he does come along.”
You roll your eyes at his audacious attitude. “That’s not exactly your responsibility Eddie.”
He shrugs, “Still, if you let me, I think I could be a pretty good teacher.”
“Eddie, I’ve let you teach me how to play guitar or dungeons and dragons, but this? I’m just…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I just wanted to put it out there, in case you did.”
“No!” You exclaim, surprising yourself and Eddie. “I-I’m just… I-I kind of would want to but-but I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen tonight. And I definitely wasn’t expecting to have my first real kiss with someone like this.”
Eddie moves closer and cups your cheek with his hand.
“Hey,” he whispers. You peer into his hypnotizing eyes, shallowly breathing before him. “If you let me, I promise to take such good care of you.”
You maintain your gaze as your breathing becomes even more shallow. Slow baited breaths fall from your lips. You blink rapidly and place a hand over his.
“Really,” you ask in a squeaky voice.
Eddie nods and briefly looks down at your lips. He looks back up into your eyes and whispers in a deep voice, “Can show you a couple tricks while I’m at it.”
He winks and your eyes widen. “Does that sound good?”
You’re rendered speechless, but have enough functioning brain cells to nod.
“Before we get started, I want to try something.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Okay?”
“French kissing is more than just pressing your lips to someone else’s, babe. So I think you should know how to move your lips and how to use the other parts of your mouth before we do anything.”
“What?” you gasp, trying to wrap your mind around what Eddie’s saying.
“I’m gonna show you a trick. This is how I used to practice on my own. Then you start practicing with another person, but it helps to have an idea of what you’re doing before the kiss has even started.”
“Oh,” you nod in confusion.
“So what you’re gonna do is take your index finger. Now move it horizontally and bring it close to your lips,” Eddie instructs and you do as he says.
“Part your lips a bit, just enough so that your finger fits between them. Yeah like that,” he says.
You cast your gaze down, slightly uncomfortable looking Eddie in the eyes.
“Now, relax. Make sure your lips are soft. Don’t want them to be tense.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and widen your lips a bit, gauging for how tense or relaxed they are, before softening them and keeping them wide enough for your finger to fit.
“Now, it’s gonna sound weird, but just kiss your finger. You’re gonna want to start so that your lips fit around your finger, then you slowly want to close them till they’re shut. I’ll show you.”
Eddie takes his own index finger between his lips and looks you in the eye as he imitates the gestures. Your throat grows dry at the sight.
“Now, you try.”
You look down at your finger and blink. You close your eyes and bring it closer to your lips. You brush your lips over your finger till they touch and you seal the touch with a kiss, lightly making a small smack sound.
You gasp at the noise and the sensation, fluttering your eyelids open.
“Perfect. That was great.” Eddie excitedly says. You look up at him and shyly smile.
“Now try doing it again a few more times.”
“A few more times? Eddie! When are we gonna…” You cut yourself off. Realizing how eager you sound.
Eddie smirks and laughs. “Patience, babe. I promise, this stuff really helps.”
“Okay, I guess.” You shrug and practice kissing your finger a few times.
“Does it feel okay?”
You shrug, “Yeah, feels fine.”
“Okay, now I want you to try again, but this time, try adding your tongue.”
“My tongue?”
“Yes, babe, your tongue,” he chuckles.
You blink in confusion before bringing your finger back up to your lips. You close your eyes and brush your lips over your finger, letting your tongue lightly graze the skin before sealing the kiss.
You pull away slightly and open your eyes, brows furrowed. “Did I do it right?”
“It was hard to tell, your finger was covering your tongue. But if it felt right then yeah.”
“Eddie, how am I supposed to know what feels right? I’ve never done any of this before.”
Eddie comfortingly places a hand on your outer thigh and squeezes. “Hey, I know it seems really confusing. But the thing is, your body knows a lot more than your mind does. Just pay attention to what things make you feel good.”
“Okay,” you nod.
“Remember, this is supposed to feel good. You’re supposed to feel relaxed. If anything hurts or makes you feel tense then something’s wrong. And if it is, then I want you to tell me, okay?
You nod, taking in his words.
“We’re gonna start off slow, okay sweetheart? I’ll warm you up a bit first.”
“Huh,” you blink.
“Here, lay back,” he whispers. He moves back and gestures for you to lay down on the couch.
You shuffle to lie down with your back flat against the couch seat and look up at Eddie as he moves the blanket you two were using earlier to the ground.
He sniffles and moves the long sleeves of his henley up his forearms. He brings a knee to the side of your leg closest to the back of the couch and places a hand on either side of your face.
“Normally, you don’t really have to announce every single thing you do before you do it, but I will since it’s your first time,” he says.
“Ok,” you gasp.
“So, I’m gonna start by kissing different parts of your face first. Then I’ll move to your lips.”
“Okay,” you whisper.
Eddie’s hair hangs above you like a waterfall. He slowly starts to move downward and you close your eyes. You feel Eddie’s soft lips press against your forehead. He slowly inches down to your nose, then to your cheek. He places a hand along your neck and presses little kisses along your jaw.
Without even thinking, you reach out for him. One hand finds its way to his neck and the other to his shoulder.
His lips trail to your neck where he leaves warm open mouthed kisses that make your insides feel relaxed.
“Feeling good?” Eddie asks.
“Mhm,” you hum as you flutter your eyelids open. The soft light of the lamp on the side table glows around him. His warm eyes and soft lips beckon you toward him
“I’m gonna kiss you on the lips this time,” he whispers, lips hovering a few inches above yours. “And for now, just follow my lead, okay? If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”
“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes.
Eddie moves down and gently brushes his lips on yours. Sort of like how he taught you to kiss your finger the first time. Even though your lips are closed while his are apart, you feel the warmth of his mouth a bit.
“Part your lips a little,” he mutters.
“Oh, right” you whisper and part your lips with the motion of your words.
He kisses you again, this time letting your top lip fit between both of his, his bottom lip between both of yours. You kiss him back and hum at the sensation. You start to feel him smiling against your lips.
He kisses you again this time letting his top lip fit between yours. You continue to kiss like that, alternating the feeling of your lips between each others. Little by little Eddie guides you to part your lips more and more as each kiss melts into the next. You start to feel more of the warmth in his mouth.
Your left hand moves to rest along his neck, with your thumb stroking the skin of his clean shaven jaw. Your right hand moves up to his hair, fingertips coming through his roots. He groans into the kiss before you rest your hand to cradle the back of his head.
Eddie uses the hand that isn’t currently propping himself up to touch along your neck, travel along your arm and end up on your waist. He squeezes lightly before hooking his arm around your mid-back. He leans down more and brings your body up, flush against his. Without even thinking about it first, your body responds by arching your back.
You guess Eddie was right. Your body does know more than your brain sometimes. Even your body knows how much it wants him.
You focus your attention back on Eddie’s lips, breathing through your nose so as not to break the kiss to catch your breath.
You’ve found a perfect rhythm together. The kiss is at just the right pace. Just the right amount of back and forth. Not too much pressure. It’s just perfect.
And god, you can’t believe how good it feels to touch Eddie like this. To feel him like this. It feels like your lips were made for each other. Like kissing was invented just for you and Eddie to know pleasure.
When you started, it was like you were just an ice cube, and slowly, Eddie’s been melting you into a puddle of water.
And just when you think you’ve fully melted, Eddie decides to turn up the heat a bit. Between kisses, Eddie slips his tongue in and glides it swiftly along your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss. It throws your mind off guard, but your body knows just what to do.
On the kiss after that, your tongue imitates his, mirroring his movements. Eddie hums into your mouth and your back arches slightly.
Something shifts after that. The blood in your veins pumps a little faster. Your breathing is a little deeper, bringing more oxygen into your system. Your skin hums with electricity. Your senses heighten. You want every inch of your skin to be touching every inch of Eddie’s skin like two magnets being pulled together by their opposing poles.
You feel your head moving forward and back as your kisses with Eddie get faster, more aggressive. Like your mouths are trying to explore every single possible way they can fit together.
Your heads tilt from side to side and you feel his nose brush against yours. You hook your arms around his neck, letting your fingers roam through his scalp and the warm skin of his face. You whimper needily into his mouth. Sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.
To touch Eddie was one thing. To feel him was a whole other thing. But to taste him? Oh god, there is no going back.
Kissing him like this makes you feel so alive. The feeling of his lips and tongue and mouth intertwined with yours is intoxicating beyond belief.
Eddie Munson has become your new favorite flavor.
As your kisses deepen and speed up in pace, Eddie switches his hands, moving the left one to hold himself up and the right one to touch you. He hikes your left leg up and hooks it around his waist.
You whine into his mouth and pull back slightly. You hear Eddie’s haggard breathing.
“Oh Eddie,” you moan before connecting your mouth back to his.
You two resume kissing. It’s an all-consuming kiss. Like your brain has turned off and everything else in your body has turned on. Just for Eddie.
And it appears that the same has happened for Eddie. He begins to grunt and hum in your kisses. He hungrily touches and squeezes you along your waist and hips, reaching below the fabric of his shirt you borrowed to press against your skin. Your kisses become faster and sloppier.
Interspersed between kisses, he’ll bite your bottom lip, making you gasp against his mouth. You try biting his lip back. Your kisses have become so fast that you can’t find the right moment. Until one particularly quick pause between kisses he uses to catch his breath. When he brings his lips back to yours, you fit his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly apply pressure.
Eddie groans and you smile, feeling triumphant at your successful move. You continue to kiss like that, going through waves of fast and harsh kissing to slower, more melodic kissing.
You didn’t realize it would go on this long, kissing. Or, you didn’t realize you and Eddie would be kissing for this long. The kiss in Pretty in Pink only lasted for the last few minutes of the movie. You have no idea how long kissing Eddie has been. Could be a few minutes or a few hours.
You could go on for the rest of the night if he let you. There’s no place you’d rather be than in Eddie’s arms. Till his arms get tired and he breaks the kiss.
His breathing fans your face until he moves away from your face and sits back on the other side of the couch. You look at him through hooded eyelids. He moves his shoulders and flexes his fingers.
Your body is so full of light yet feels like it weighs more than a bag of bricks as you struggle to sit up, your muscles so weak from the pleasure of kissing Eddie.
Eddie breathes harshly and looks down. He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at you. He smiles painfully and you scoot closer to him.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah… I, uh… got something I need to take care of,” Eddie grunts.
“Wait, what is it?”
Eddie looks at you, like he’s masking some sort of pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah I just um…” Eddie looks into your eyes before closing his own.
“Eddie, you’re never shy around me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You just… sort of gave me a boner, sweetheart,” he answers, gruffly calling you his favorite pet name as he palms his pants.
Your eyes widen, “Oh.”
“I am painfully hard babe. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
Eddie stands up but you grab his hand. “Wait.”
He looks at you and you tug, motioning for him to sit back down.
“Do you… I mean, could I… maybe I can help you take care of it?”
“You want to?” He asks, eyebrows slightly raised and a lazy smile forming in his lips.
You smile bashfully, “Yeah.”
“You sure? No pressure at all, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I want to,” you smile and shuffle closer to him, “If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” he grunts, shuffling to sit closer to you so that your thighs are touching.
You look down onto his lap and notice the subtle outline under the fabric of his plaid pajama pants.
He palms the outline and you see it shift beneath the fabric.
You probably should be doing something besides staring straight at his lap, but something about the male anatomy is so foreign to you, it amazes you to see it like this. To see him like this.
“Wanna help me with this, sweetheart?” He grunts.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mutter under your breath.
You hesitantly reach forward and place your hand over the outline of his dick. Your eyelids flutter and you relish the sensation of his hardened yet clothed dick in the palm of your hand. You slowly press down and push your hand forward.
Eddie hums and you look up at him. His eyes are closed, lashes fallen upon his rosy cheeks, lips slightly ajar. He’s never looked more beautiful.
You look back down, with focus, and repeat your action with a bit more confidence. You feel his chest move along the side of your shoulder.
You bring your hand down to move a third time, but Eddie beats you to the punch. He brings his fingers up to the waist band of his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips up and pushes the fabric down towards his knees, letting them fall to his ankles.
And there it is. Without warning, his unclothed cock springs out, meeting you for the first time. You gape at the site of it. Of him. You swallow nervously. You’ve never seen anything like it. But, now you understand why a banana was used at the condom demonstration in health class.
In the soft glow of the yellow lamp light, you see the stiff rigidness of his hardened cock, standing freely on its own.
Eddie reaches to grab it with his hand. He begins slowly stroking up and down.
You look at him and his eyes are closed again.
“Here,” you say as you shoo his hand away. Reaching for his cock and grabbing it in your hand, “Let me.”
You look at him again and this time his eyes are open. He looks down at his dock in your hand, then up into your eyes. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You can feel his cock twitch in your hands and you tense up, slightly squeezing it.
“Move your hand up and down,” he breathes.
You nod and loosen your grip to stroke up and down.
“You can keep a tighter grip, like before.”
Like before, when you were nervous?
You tighten your grip and hesitantly move your hand up and down his cock.
He takes the arm closest to you and snakes it around your waist. The gesture brings you closer to him and you take the opportunity to kiss him again.
You lean forward and press your lips against his. He’s slightly taken aback, but by the second kiss he’s already kissing you back at full force.
You hear him loudly breath through his nostrils and feel his chest rise and press close to yours as you continue to jerk up and down his dick.
Eddie pulls away momentarily and listfully gazes at you.
“Remember to get the head too,” he softly instructs as he looks down at your hand.
“What,” you ask in confusion as you meet his gaze.
He holds his hand atop yours and guides it upward, letting your thumb run over the head of the hard cock. It feels smoothers than the skin in the base, and even sort of wet.
“Use the precum, it’ll help your hand glide a little better.”
“Huh,” you flutter your eyelashes, slightly overwhelmed by all the different sensations currently flooding your system.
“Or if it helps, you can try spitting into your hand or licking it for better traction.”
Oh. You take his words of advice and bring your hand up to your mouth. You lick a stripe and bring it down to the base. You pump upward and back down. You let your palm travel up one side, over the throbbing head, and over the other side.
You move your hand back upright and pump again, letting your thumb rub circles over the head to smear more precum.
It doesn’t escape your notice that Eddie shudders every time you do this. Every time you do much as touch the head of his cock he's a breathless mess.
You’re so lost in concentration, wanting to make sure your doing it right and making Eddie feel good that you don’t even think to kiss him again.
But while you’re making Eddie feel good, he wants to do something for you too. The only problem is, the way you’re touching him is making him have an out of body experience. It’s so good, he barely had control over his own limbs.
The mist he can do is lazily pulls you closer to his and press sweet open mouthed kisses into your neck.
Normally, you would’ve been ticklish along your neck, but something about Eddie’s touch is different. It makes you feel warm and bright. You hum and whimper when he kisses over the most sensitive spots.
He lets his lips travel to your ear. He bites on the lobe and tugs.
He whispers into the shell, “You’re so good at this babe. Are you sure this isn’t your first time?”
You giggle like a schoolgirl and smile triumphantly.
The sound of your voice drives Eddie wild and in a moment of impulse, he wraps his other arm around your waist and tightens his grip.
His kisses along your neck grow sloppier and your movement on his cock speed up, becoming harsher with each stroke.
“Sweetheart,” he grunts. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen constrict.
“Yeah?” You ask.
He grunts again, “I’m gonna—think I’m gonna co—“
And before he can even say the word, he comes.
“Eddie, what’s happening? What do I do?”
You freeze.
Eddie moves one hand to stroke his clock, pumping till the last big of cum comes out. It spills out of his leaky cock and onto his hips.
You’re so in shock and still overcome by pleasure that you’re frozen in this moment, simply an observer of Eddie’s current state.
“Well my darling, you just made me cum,” Eddie smiles cockily at you.
You smile back, slightly confused but overall pleased.
Eddie leans forward and kisses you. You kiss him back, but before he deepens the kiss, he pulls away. He fixes himself and excuses himself to go to the bathroom and clean himself up.
You suppose you should probably clean yourself up a bit too. This was far dirtier than anything you’d done before, so you go to the sink to wash your hands and fix yourself a glass of water.
You set the glass on the side table and sit back down on the couch.
After a few minutes, Eddie comes back out and joins you.
“You okay?”
“More than okay, babe,” he grins smugly.
You hide your smile and take a sip of water.
“Want some?” You offer to him.
He plops down next to you and accepts the glass, nearly chugging it all.
“Hey,” you smack his arm. “I asked if you want some, not all of it.”
Eddie chuckles and wipes his mouth with the back of his.
“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’ll get you some more,” he says cheekily. He leans over and gives you a kiss before getting up to refill the water.
He comes back and passes you the glass. You take a sip and place it back on the side table before Eddie tackles you on the couch.
You shriek as you move down to lay on the couch while Eddie moves to lay on top of you.
“Eddie, I can’t breathe!”
“Me neither. You really know how to take a guy's breath away sweetheart.”
You smile at his cheesiness.
“No I meant, you’re right on my lungs. It’s hard to breathe.”
Eddie takes this as the opportunity to basically manhandle you, picking you up and switch positions so that he’s laying down on the couch and you’re on top of him. Sort of like how you were when you first started movie night.
“That better babe?”
You press a kiss to his lips, letting him deepen it a bit before pulling away.
“Now it is,” you say matter of factly.
“I’m not gonna lie, you’re a really good kisser baby.”
Your heart lightens at the compliment. Eddie has kissed other people before, so the fact that he thinks you’re a good kisser is saying a lot.
“Where’d you learn how to kiss like that?” He asks.
You roll your eyes at his self-indulgence.
“Well, I had this teacher…” you play along.
“Must’ve been a hell of a teacher.”
“He was a pretty good teacher, but I think I also just had a natural ability. A gift some might call it.”
“Oh I definitely would. Those pretty lips were very gifted. Those hands… even more,” he teases as he leans forward for a chaste kiss.
You move your hand forward to cup his cheek.
“Is class still in session Mr. Munson,” you ask in a flirty voice.
One of Eddie’s eyebrows cocks up suggestively.
“Because there is so much I want you to teach me.”
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cleo-fox · 3 months
Text
Conquer
Part 1 of 5
Series Masterlist
Summary: The king intends to take a bride.
You just never thought it would be you.
(Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.
A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)
I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).
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The king intends to take a bride.
At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.
You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.
You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.
The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.
Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.
But you don’t know any of that yet.
*
You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.
The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.
You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.
As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.
You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.
You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.
He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.
And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.
You swallow hard. No. Not him.
Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.
Fucking hell.
*
The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.
Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.
You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.
You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.
The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.
You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.
The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.
Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.
You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.
The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.
You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.
You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.
You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.
You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.
“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”
You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.
You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.
He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.
“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”
You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.
“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.
“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.
“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”
You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.
“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.
It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.
“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”
“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”
“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”
You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”
“I think you’ll find I’m not.”
You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”
Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”
You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”
His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.
“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.
“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”
For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.
“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”
You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.
You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.
He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.
He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.
You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.
You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”
He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”
Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.
“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.
His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”
You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.
“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”
You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.
“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”
You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.
“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”
It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.
You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.
He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.
He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.
“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”
Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.
You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.
There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.
It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.
He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.
Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.
“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.
“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.
“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.
He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.
“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”
“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.
He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”
Your eyes narrow. “Why?”
“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”
His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.
He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.
“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”
“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.
“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”
You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.
“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.
You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.
This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.
“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.
“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.
You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.
“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.
You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.
You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”
He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.
Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.
Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.
His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.
“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.
He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”
Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.
“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”
He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.
He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.
Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.
“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.
“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.
“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.
You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”
He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.
He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).
But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.
He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.
You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.
He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.
You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.
“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.
You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.
There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.
Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.
You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.
“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.
“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.
“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.
“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.
“Please fuck me.”
You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.
There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.
He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.
It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.
But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.
He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.
And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.
“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”
You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.
“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”
You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.
You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.
“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.
But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.
And again.
Fuck.
Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.
“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.
You whimper, your back arching.
“Give into it. Let me feel you.”
One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.
“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.
It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.
Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.
“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.
“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”
Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.
You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.
His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.
You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.
You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.
You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.
But also…it feels nice.
It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.
You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.
Be angry.
His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.
Be angry.
You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.
Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.
“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.
“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.
Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?
He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.
You scowl at the thought.
“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”
“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.
“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”
And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.
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dollita-fawn · 5 months
Note
i have a request🙏🙏i aint even gonna ask anonymously i am requesting this LOUD AND PROUD🦅🦅
female reader x wesker
reader and wesker work together and its like 2am since theyre working late and they go outside for some fresh air and share a cigarette together 😇😇😇 and that leads to them having the most disgraceful make out session ever and then wesker is needy asf that man is a brat and by the end of it he just leaves the readers legs shaking n sobbing 🦅
p.s- i love your writing its really good!! 🎀
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Partner in Crime ☽。⋆
pairings- Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant? reader
a/n- THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING REQUEST ! and im so glad you like my writing I really appreciate it <3 hope you enjoy this one (not proofread because im lazy)
NSFW WARNING :
contains- needy Wesker, Wesker planned to use reader as an experiment prior, unspoken romantic feelings, unprotected sex, brief use of pet names, age gap (reader is 20 and Wesker is 44) , breeding kink/ baby trapping ? ☁︎
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
Wesker had a plan for you from the very moment he laid his eyes on you. He had a keen eye for pretty little things such as you.
He figured you’d be easy to lure in. You were young, presumably naive and easy to manipulate.
He never suspected you’d become one of his most valuable and loyal assets. You were far from incompetent, he was entirely wrong about that.
Originally, you were nothing more than a test subject in his mind. You would be in his ongoing experiment into the development of the T-Virus. He would have you as a guinea pig, studying your blood, tissue, cells—anything you've got available—and then using it as test samples for further research.
Upon further studies, Wesker realized that you did possess an intelligence and ingenuity rivaling his own.
He came to realize that working with you was a far more effective way to achieve his overall goals for the future. With you by his side, he knew he could complete his experiments at a faster pace than he ever could on his own.
He needed someone just like you who was smart, cunning, and willing to do the dirty work necessary to advance his research.
So he changed tactics and began to work on winning you over, first by flattery and compliments, then by subtle manipulation and coercion. He knew that with enough time, you'd fall right into line.
You started to trust him, and even felt a little bit attracted to him. He had a way with words and his sharp intelligence made him even more appealing. You felt like he saw into your soul and understood everything about you. You felt connected to him. You had similar desires for the world.
Soon, you became his right hand man, doing most of his infiltration work. He has you sneaking around in secret missions, gathering information, and collecting samples of needed viruses. You become his most trusted associate and he relies upon you to carry out his darkest duties. You’re the one he trusts with all of his unspoken secrets.
Except for one.
He is capable of feeling love, and despite his attempts to hide it, he can't help but harbor growing feelings towards you. He would never admit it to anybody—especially not to himself—but there is a certain appeal and tenderness to you that he cannot deny.
It’s a secret that he would rather take to his grave, but it is also one of the few things that keeps him going throughout his dark and twisted journey.
You are the perfect girl for him. You understand him in a way that no one else can, carrying incomparable knowledge and morality. You see beyond the corruption and to the person underneath. You make him feel something that he has never felt before—an emotion that drives him to do things he never thought possible.
You are his strength and his weakness, the one thing that he can't live without.
The two of you worked hand in hand, never butting heads.
After you obtained the needed sample, fulfilling his orders, you both researched and developed the Plaga together, coming up with new ways to use it as a weapon.
You worked late nights, often staying up for days on end as you worked towards making the idea of complete global saturation a soon to be reality.
You are always there when he needs an able mind, helping to guide the progression of the project.
No matter the day of the week, the time, or how little you’re rewarded. You fulfill your duties promptly.
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
You’re both working late tonight; as always, just the two of you in the lab.
Wesker can’t deny how much he enjoys your company on its own, but even so, he tried his damndest to prioritize his evolution. He knew he more than likely was capable of completing these tasks on his own. But he liked it better with you around.
He hates not having you right at the hip, knowing you’re fully devoted to his cause.
He wasn’t entirely debased, he knew you were often overworked at his selfish call. You pushed yourself for him. “Up for a smoke break?” he suggests, putting his handy-work aside for a moment.
“Sure. Could use some fresh air.”
You don’t smoke very often, but you find yourself craving one right now. It's been a long night, and this is a nice chance to clear your head.
Wesker stands silently next to you as you arrive outside, staring off into the distance and taking puffs from his cigarette.
He offers it to you, and you draw closer to him.
You take a drag, enjoying the taste and the feel of his body next to yours. You feel your body relax, and the tension in your shoulders easing. The smoke fills your lungs with a tranquil warmth.
You continue to slowly take puffs from the cigarette, ashing back and forth with Wesker. The nicotine is having its desired effect, and you feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as the stress of the night slips away.
But you can hardly be calm with each passing.
There’s no denying the tension between you. His hand brushes against yours every chance it gets as you’re already standing against each other. Your breaths mix together at each exhale of smoke.
Neither of you are speaking but you don’t have to. Great minds think alike after all.
He makes the first move, growing tired of holding back.
Dropping the cig, you’re suddenly pressed against the concrete wall of the building, his lips completely devouring yours.
In no way do you resist.
He cups your face gently but he kisses you with intense need, his breath coming out in burning gasps into your mouth.
He made no attempt at being tidy. His saliva mixes with yours, aching to become one with you. He presses against you, longing to feel your form in full. His leg delves between yours, his knee hiking further up your tight, pencil skirt.
The contact against your sensitive bundle of nerves brings out a moan, only increasing Wesker’s oncoming thirst.
But you stop his hand as he cups you through the thin fabric of your panties, causing him to pull away conflicted. He thought you were on the same page.
“Too fast for you?”
You lay your head against his shoulder for a moment, hiding your embarrassment.
The simple gesture makes his stomach flutter. You got so overwhelmed so easily from his actions. He found it adorable.
“We shouldn’t…” you mumble, though your words contradict your actions.
“And why shouldn’t we? I’m fairly certain we both want this.”
Really you had no reason why you shouldn’t. And as he presses desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, suckling and tracing with the tip of his tongue, you lose all common sense.
Your hands unclasp his leather belt, swiftly removing it from the loops.
As you work the button of his pants, unzipping and dragging them down, he takes it as a green light, dropping your panties to your ankles. You step your heel covered feet out of them, discarding them to the dirt of the ground without care.
Wesker firmly flips you around, pressing your face into the wall and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. The other bunches your skirt up over your ass, exposing you to the cool night air.
“Think you can handle me, darling?” He asks rhetorically. You were going to take it either way, you were already this far. Right in his hold.
He teased his hardness between the slick of your folds, the heat making you feel woozy.
He slapped it against your clit a couple times before positioning to your opening, teasing in and out with just the tip. You curve backwards into it, yearning for more than just teasing and he slides in fully with a low grunt.
You suck him in, greedily backing up on further on him.
At the stance you’re in, the head of his cock pokes and prods at just the right angle with every buck of his hips, making you mewl out embarrassingly loud.
Wesker slams into your tight cunt so fast he slips out a few times. You were oozing with arousal, drenching around his cock so much he could hardly keep it together.
He keeps his strong grip on your wrists, keeping you bound while he stuffs you full. “Feels so good…” he growls out, “Can’t believe I waited this long to feel you like this.”
“Can’t take it-“ you cry out in response to his merciless pounding. He doesn’t slow or even consider, instead propelling even further.
“You can, and you will.”
Take it like the good little slut that you are.” he coos, “You can do it darling. Take all of me.”
Tears fill your lash line, threatening to spill as he continues, the pleasure overriding all of your senses. You couldn’t think straight, only standing because of his robust hold on you.
Your legs go wobbly, tears spilling out as you reach your climax, the best you’d ever had. You fall completely limp, brain gone dumb.
He loses his small bit of control, cock pulsing and twitching inside you as his cum bursts out without warning.
His mind goes fuzzy, his mouth pouring out whiny ‘I love you’s along with your name repeatedly without thinking about it, feeling too over the moon to care about the repercussions of his words.
He meant them. You were his everything, and he was sure to make it so you remained that way.
So he fills you up with his sticky seed, needing you to cary that constant reminder of him within you.
He was going to keep you as his own, no matter the cost.
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lordgrimoire · 1 year
Text
The Goonion would like a Word
Bruce had never had an experience like this before, letters of ransom from any of his rogues? Certainly! But the Goonion only ever left messages when they were paying bail for their own, and he was becoming worried as to why Jason’s Goons had posted a message to him via The Goonion.
“To Batman of Gotham, New Jersey, United States of America, We would like to have a word with you in regards to a pair of Meta Adjacent individuals we would like to harbor here in Gotham, we are only extending the courtesy to you regarding them due to the fact that the United States Government refuses to acknowledge them as people due to their conditions, the Boss said he would tell you himself, if he has not already he likely will soon. Suffice to say a family of three is coming to Gotham as their last chance at a safe harbor and we would prefer it if you did not get on their cases. We hope to receive your response without any broken bones, The Goonion, Gotham, New Jersey Branch.” Tim was staring at the paper, the stationary of The Goonion, with confusion, Dick, Barbara, Cass, and Stephany seemed rather accepting of it, and Damian was confused. 
“What is this, Goonion?” His youngest asked, staring at the paper as Bruce read over the return address, the Iceberg Lounge, a server named Thomas. 
“Ah, we haven’t told you about them yet have we?” Dick began, sitting back. “They’re nice folks, help get the Goons payed and are usually the ones to put their feet down when Rogues get outta hand for normal folks, for instance, the Joker does not have the stamp of approval for, many reasons. But primarily it’s due to his former Henchmen, including Harley, snitching on him to the Goonion.” Dick typed something into his phone, Damian’s own device pinging in his pocket, likely more info. “The Goonion has an odd relationship with us, we don’t go after them and they try to keep things regulated, Jason could probably tell you more, and it seems from the letter we do have to talk to him.” The door to the cave opened, and while Bruce looked up to see his second son come walking down the steps he seemed, tired, run down even.
“The Goonion already got to you? Good on them.” Jason huffed as he sat next to Damian, ruffling the boy’s head much to his exasperation and attempted swatting. “Situations fucked, the letter doesn’t even touch on the bigger parts but it gets, real fucky like, possibly gonna want to get Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana in on it fucky, definitely Constantine as well.” Well Bruce knew his flags rather well and if Jason was advocating for not only a League intervention but one headed by John Constantine? Bruce decided to address the original topic first. 
“They can stay, but they will have to answer questions.” Jason huffed and leaned back. 
“Ground rules then, the two younger kids? Meta Adjacent? They have a similar situation to me, and it turns out Ra’s is playing with not even a tenth of a full puzzle with the Lazarus Pit.” Everyone around the table stiffened, save Alfred who had come in behind Jason with a tea service, as Jason took a sip from the mug placed before him and nodding to Alfred. “Thank you. The details are spotty but the abridged form is this, the Lazarus pit is the remains of a bunch of people from a dimension to which we all go when we die, the residents therein call it the Infinite Realms since it services everyone that means every Person who has a faith or doesn’t has a place there. Furthermore these three’s parents who passed recently in a Government Sanctioned raid made a Portal to the Infinite Realms, and Lazarus Water? Corrupted, dirty, a literally soul eroding form of what makes up matter on that end of the divide, Ectoplasm.” Jason withdrew a vial from his pocket, a bright green and sluggish substances was held within. “This is pure ectoplasm, The Parents, a pair known as Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, introduced me to a Doctor from the Infinite Realms, suffice to say I am feeling much less angry and far more at peace with things, though apparently being angry is normal for the type of “Dead but Brought Back” I am.” Jason placed the vial on the table and slowly pushed it to Bruce, taking his hand back when he reached for it.
“Jazz, the eldest, is a student at Gotham University, or she is now, identities and the like will be handled later but for the younger two it’s time for some non starters, because apparenlty if you ask an Ecto Entity or anyone touched by the Infinite Realms how they died it sets off a “I Must Kill You Now” trigger in their head, essentially forcing them to suffer their deaths all over again until they deal with who or whatever asked the question, so no being a little nosey punk about it Tim.” Tim jolted at his name being said instead of Jason’s nickname for him but he nodded when he realized that his elder brother hadn’t looked away from him. Bruce was still proud the two had started to mend things so well, but as he stared at the vial a question swirled in his mind.
“Why did the Goonion send a letter then?” Jason stiffened slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Alrighty, so you know how I’ve been going to College classes since a year ago? I met Jazz at one of them, as Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne and card carrying member of Red Hood’s Goonion. This was, sometime around Spring Semester, soooooo” Steph lunged up, mouth open with a squeak until Cass pulled her back down. Jason sighed and continued. “We started dating last year, she wants to be a psychiatrist and maay have started working for The Goonion in Star City when one of their guys ended up on her mentor’s patient bench. Her academics are already transferred to Gotham U but she’s still looking for a new Mentor.” Bruce made an affirmative noise at that, encouraging, Jason was holding something back, the younger siblings hadn’t been named yet. “The Goonion hired her former mentor and Jazz followed them in since they have really good benefits, and she has experience with the whole Capes and Crooks thing already. Though she told me she would rather she and her siblings explain that.” 
So, Jasmine Fenton, after being a student for at least a year in Psychiatry, became a Goonion Psychiatrist, and then when her Parents died she takes her younger siblings, one of whom is rather recently adopted into the family by the looks of it, and flees her hometown, one Amity Park Illinois, which has a disturbingly blank file in the League databanks. “Yeah,” Jason began, looking over at the Batcomputer, scanning the total lack of data from two year ago on. “The Government locked their hometown down quick, they have a branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward, who managed to get a law in before our current Shining Dome of a President, was sworn in, apparenlty old Lex has been trying to rip that law to shredds since he found out about it and there’s something akin to a coup attempt going on from the GIW towards Lex. I looked into those guys already, I think it would be wiser to side with the current President and not a bunch of Loons who would dissect Uncle Clark and his kids if they got the chance.” Damian jerked slightly, turning to face Jason.
“What?” 
“Yeah, Krypton is dead it’s a dead world, by some of the smaller parts of the Anti-Ecto Acts that means that all Kryptonians are ecto-beings and by that law have no sentience, and are just emotions imprinted on ectoplasm, given the fact I died once they would pick me up as well in a heartbeat, for “disposal” as they call it.” The room had become Still, Dick seemed furious, staring at the damning lack of info alongside a pale Tim, Damian who was still staring at Jason realized just why his brother had looked back to him and was also looking at Cass, they had been brought back by the pit, they were by Federal Law non-sentient. Bruce felt the arms of his chair bend slightly under his grip before breathing out his frustration. 
“You have a plan?” Jason nodded, he seemed to be expecting worse, you really didn’t give him a reason not to, and began speaking.
“The Goonion will be dealing with protecting people who fall under the acts, we just need the JL to take this problem and light it on fire, drag it into the public eye and raid a few of the GIW’s bases that may have people, both from our side and theirs, in captivity. I will be going tonight to get Jazz and her Siblings from a bolt hole of theirs, an Aunt in Arkansas whose bound to be investigated is hiding them, I just need to borrow something.” Bruce allowed an eyebrow to climb up his forehead, he wants to borrow the Batplane for it.
“I’ll allow it, go and get them once it starts to become dark out, I’ll expect you back by dawn, do you have a place set up?” Jason blinked at him before nodding. 
“Yeah, one of the safer corners of Crime Alley, closest part to Gotham University, three bedrooms, two bath, someone maaay have helped me pick it out.” Bruce nodded, he would get nowhere in trying to guess which of his other children, Alfred, or any of Jason’s friends, or even some of their own collectively reformed Rogues could have helped Jason in this, but suffice to say it was a safe harbor and one backed by some rather tough figures. The Goonion alone would give anyone trouble, but with them being in Crime Alley that meant that they were essentially in an invaders nightmare. Dead ends, construction, dilapidated or abandoned buildings, it was a natural ambush site. Jason then put a box on the table, it was a scanner of some sort. 
“One of the reasons they’re coming here is this,” he flipped a switch and the machine began to frantically beep, practically sounding a long tone before Jason flipped it off again, “Gotham sits on a similar point to Amity Park, and as such we are LOADED with ambient ectoplasm, constantly stirred up by magic based curses of one sort or another it essentially blinds ectoplasmic tracking devices.” Bruce nodded, accepting the device as it was pushed down the table to him. “Jazz had apparently decided that they would run to Gotham if things went sideways like this anyways, we’re the closest ambiently effected city to Amity not ringed by GIW outposts and scanners.” Bruce paused in his observing of the machine, the GIW had surrounded other cities that had high ambient ectoplasm?
“Where?” Jason pulled out a small notepad.
“Well, Jazz wouldn’t tell us, but the Goonion has it’s ways, The GIW has encircled the following cities, Salem, Boston, and Springfield of Massachusetts, New Orleans, New York, Philadelphia and Gettysburg of Pennsylvania, Chicago Illinois, Savanah Georgia, D.C., and then San Francisco and San Antonio of California and Texas respectively, I asked for this list at 6 this morning, I was handed this current version at Noon, these were just the overt ones. Metropolis, Bludhaven, and Gotham, are currently not surrounded, there are locations between them but not many.” Bruce stood, watching as addresses were placed on the table, each assigned a sticky note and details. 
“You should get ready to go get Jazz and her siblings, we’ll deal with this.” Bruce tapped on the sticky note closest to him. Jason nodded and stood, following Alfred out of the Batcave as Bruce looked to the rest of his family. “We have targets, we have details, Tim, dig up what you can on the GIW, Damian, Dick, Cass, Stephanie, your with me, we’re going to raid as many of these places as we can tonight, Barbara,”
“I’ve got comms, got it.” She interrupted, rolling over to the Bat computer and preparing for daylight operations 
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tenseoyong · 2 years
Text
Aemond loves his little family.
He keeps a watchful eye over his children, making the royal guards seem redundant. Aemond often recalls the ridicule and embarrassment he’d faced as a child—and the resulting accident—and makes it a personal matter to maintain a keen eye over how the children behave towards each other, or how other children in the keep interact with his family.
Rarely does he let his half-sister and his nephews interact with his happy little family.
The Prince is unusually involved in his children’s lives for someone of his station—the responsibility typically laying with that of wet nurses and his lady-wife’s handmaidens—yet Aemond does it anyways.
He personally oversees their studies, and has taken the task upon himself of teaching his children High Valyrian—carefully correcting mispronunciations and gently calming them when their frustrations grow.
Aemond refused to be to his children what his own father was to him—neglectful and uninterested or show obvious favoritism for one over the masses—Aemond made sure all his children felt equally as loved and cherished, in their own ways of course.
His eldest son—Vaemon—was very much the warrior every royal family hoped the first born male would be. Aemond had a little wooden sword crafted and in the small boy’s hand before the child could fully walk.Aemond was often spotted training with the young lad, teaching his heir proper techniques and how to find and use one’s advantages.
A few years behind his first born, came Vaenya. Undoubtedly his scholar in the making. The young girl would rarely be found without a book in her grasp; Aemond would gift her with every newly published book he could get his hands on, though, she greatly favorite those of the world’s history—much like her father—and Aemond would enjoy quiet evenings spent by candlelight, the two of them pouring over ancient texts. Often, Aemond would teasingly correct her posture, “Slouching is unbecoming of a Princess~”
His darling Haelera, who—affectionately named after his sweet sister—had somehow managed to gather the same odd fascination with all things creepy-crawly, still felt her father’s warm love. Though, you could say she was a lover of animals in general, it was much easier to come across bugs of various types than an odd dog or cat in the Red Keep. Aemond listening intently to every little insect fact his darling daughter brought to his attention, and would often return from his Princely duties with a jar containing a random bug much to Haelera’s delight.
And Little Raenar could just barely toddle after his older brother and his father, yet Aemond was insistent on bringing the infant as he and Vaemon trained. Aemond supposed the young babe simply liked the sounds of metal—if the light on his face and the happy giggles that floated through the training yard each time Aemond blocked one of Vaemon’s attacks were anything to go by—but the babe seemed to enjoy the activity, or his brother and sire’s company either way, and Aemond was content with including him even if his little mind wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.
Aemond personally picks each and every dragon egg that would be placed in his children’s cradles. And while, thankfully all eggs did hatch, Aemond did harbor a bit of fear that one of his children would be left to suffer a fate similar to his as a dragonless Targaryen—and vowed he’d not have them ridiculed as he once was, that he’d comfort and adore them regardless.
He relishes in teaching his children to be dragon riders. To see the ease and joy on their faces after a their first ride, to see they have what should have been his—gaining a dragon-bond at birth, and not having to lose a part of themselves in order to gain something by sheer determination—Aemond delights in taking his little clan on family rides.
Aemond would not see his little family crumble and become scattered in the winds as his extended family had been in his youth. He insists upon the family being together during every meal, not that you’d ever begin to think of denying him that—the family being as tight knit as it was—Aemond enjoyed hearing about each member of his family’s daily activities and growing interests.
He would never be more grateful to anyone more than he was to his Lady-Wife for giving him something he’d never truly had before—the gift of family—darling children that loved each other as much as their father loved them.
Aemond Targaryen loves his little family.
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sweetnothingtm · 2 years
Text
RUTHLESS// simon riley x reader
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pairing simon riley x f!reader
word count 4.6k
content warning rough sex, knife play, degradation, oral sex, the mask stays on!
authors note i hope you enjoy you dirty little freaks. thank you for everything ♡
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It’s an honest mistake - really. Had you known any better you would’ve kept it right where he left it.
But you can’t help yourself, lingering just a moment longer to stare at the blade that shines in the light. Its tip was stuck in the wall, the black hilt of the knife worn from use. Soap is calling your name, but you stay put, lip caught between your teeth.
It’s the lieutenants, his initials engraved into it - and you pocket it without a second thought.
You hide it from him like a dirty secret.
At first, you reason that it’s a good knife - a waste of potential to be left in the wall. It’s been polished and sharpened, the tip of the blade pricking into your finger. You had to keep it, you thought. Despite the fact that he would eventually come back for it, eyebrows drawn in confusion at the empty hole where it used to stick. You don’t necessarily use it, but you keep it on you at all times. It rests in your breast pocket, your heart beating against it even now.
A reminder of him. All the little unspoken truths and harbored emotions that you kept from him.
Then you think he could've asked for it back. You don’t admit that you have it, but if he wants it then he’ll try to find it. You have a bad habit to absentmindedly stare at him during briefings, and you notice the empty spot on his vest. It’s a similar shape to the knife.
You’ve been free falling for the lieutenant since the day you met him. Always a little too desperate and eager, you did your best to please. Arriving early for meetings, being the first one up, getting your report and handing it to him finished not a day later. He’d catch your gaze, cocking an eyebrow almost as if in challenge. You’d blush, breaking his stare and shoving down all those months of pining.
He taught you how to aim, how to disassemble your weapons and put them back together, hell- he’d just about taught you how to breathe. A ghost that’s hellbent on haunting the living, he kept you waiting patiently and obediently. You just needed a sign - something to tell you that he sees you.
The lieutenant doesn’t ask for it back. Yet. You’re starting to fall asleep looking at it, eyes half lidded and thumb rubbing over the hilt softly. It flips between your hands under the table at meetings, head in the clouds with your superior storming your thoughts.
The initials are ingrained in your memory like it was branded. SR. You start to carve it in bathrooms, trees, your bed frame. It’s shameful to admit, but having a piece of him is nice to carry. It’s because he’s your boss, the guy whose job it is to keep you alive. You’re just being sentimental for a friend.
Sometimes you wonder if he knows it’s gone. There’s a part of you that hopes you’ll never have to give it back.
Eventually you’re beginning to treat it like it’s your own. You carry it with you like a lost piece to a puzzle. It’s got a spot on the inside of your vest, hidden from his eyes. You let it dance on your skin in boredom, and use it to cut stray threads off you. But you can’t cut the lieutenant loose.
Your eyes are blinking away boredom and disinterest, head hung low as the drowning deep voice of Ghost continues on. It’s late, and you’re tapping your boot impatiently as Johnny and Kyle are making small talk about the stupidest shit.
The knife clicks open and closed, fingers unconsciously brushing against the blade. You really just need a shower and eight hours of sleep, but time is ticking away.
Think Lt will let us sleep in tomorrow?
Not a chance, Soap
Bastard doesn’t even sleep. It’s not fair
You feel like kicking yourself to stay awake. Yawns are bubbling up from your chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. It’s been a half hour since he started talking about procedures, protocols, what to do if blah blah blah. You fiddle with the knife in your hands, glancing down at the initials. Simon Riley. You wish you were in bed, the soft glow of your lamp illuminating your favorite kept secret.
He can tell too, and it’s infuriating him. You’re messing with your hands, lip caught between your teeth as your leg bounces in the chair. You rest your arms on the table, leaning forward and absentmindedly playing with something. Then he sees it, the black hilt that’s worn from the grip of his hand. It’s got the same engraving too, the one he got custom done his first day on the force.
You took it.
Simon didn’t think you’d have it - just a sneaking suspicion. He’s lost it before, usually to find it the next day in his jeans. Yet he saw you leaving, cheeks scarlet as you avoided his gaze. Your hands were shoved deep in your pockets, mumbling soft apologies as he brushed past you and back into the room. It wasn’t there, though.
He missed it. Simon carried it with him everywhere, like it was a part of him. It’s the only knife he owns, always wiping it clean at the end of the night. It twists between his fingers at night, the hilt worn from the palm of his hand. He would lazily flick it open, thumb rubbing along the edge of the knife. He thought he’d find it by now - but there you are, treating it with the same care that he has.
The lieutenant pauses, words trailing off as he stares at the familiar blade. You glance up, catching his gaze with eyes that are dark and heavy. You blink once, twice, straightening and looking down to your hands where the open knife lays. You freeze, the air around you running cold. Heart faltering and chest tightening, you wait with baited breath. Never has the truth been laid so bare before you. His eyes are kept on your face, pinning you in your seat. Does he know?
The lieutenant breaks your gaze, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms. You’re absolutely mortified, shoving the knife in your back pocket and biting your tongue. Johnny looks to Ghost, pausing his conversation with Kyle at the unexpected silence. You’re distracting yourself by looking at anywhere but him, breaths uneven and shoulders tight with anxiety.
Ghost takes a moment to regain his control, mind clouded with the image of you playing with his knife. He runs a hand down the haunting white mask that separates you from him. Still wearing the uniform and gear, his hand rests on the empty spot of his vest as his eyes drag straight back to you.
He has to know.
“Johnny, Gaz - take your gossip outside. We’ll reconvene tomorrow,” he states, leaving no room for questions. The lieutenant breaths a long sigh, head cocking to the side as you blush a deep red. You whip your head to him, standing up straight at the sound of your name. He doesn’t dismiss you. The boys nod begrudgingly, standing up and stretching while grunting goodbyes as they shuffle out of the room. The door swings shut, clicking back into place and leaving you stranded.
It’s just the two of you, a thick and nauseating tension arises as moments slip by in an uncomfortable quiet. Your hands are balled into fists out of anxious habit, nails digging into the palms for your hands. He’s shrugging off the vest, peeling off his gloves and tossing everything on a nearby chair. His bare hands brace against the side of the desk, eyes staring straight through you.
“That’s my favorite knife that you stole,” he says, voice patronizing as you stupidly blink at him with innocence in your eyes. Your mouth opens and shuts quickly, head spinning with all the ways you can lie yourself through this.
“I don’t have it, maybe you lost it?” You say, shifting uncomfortably as he cocks an eyebrow at you. He looks at you as though you’re on fire, burning up with every lie that you feed him. You fumble, shaking your head at him and letting poor bluffs take the lead, “I just bought this one. I got it from a store in-“
“You’re a bad fucking liar.”
You freeze, words stuck in your throat as his voice rings in your ears. You’ve been caught like a deer in the headlights, eyes widening and panic setting in. His fingers drum against the side of the desk, and he almost looks like he’s found his new pet not behaving.
Glancing to the door, you swallow a thick ball of fear. It’s a few feet away, right there and waiting for you to run. Excuses and dishonesty coat your senses, trying to cover up lost tracks as you look longingly to the exit. The knife sits heavy in your pocket, a ruthless and terrible reminder of the fact that it doesn’t belong to you. You should’ve given it to him when you had the chance.
He waits for you to answer, and he’s gritting his teeth every second you stare at him all pretty and dumb - like you don’t know a goddamn thing. Honestly, a part of him feels a little prideful that you kept it in the first place. You intoxicate and torture him, forcing him to keep distance from the forest fire he wants to call home. The lieutenants been waiting for you to spark since the day he met you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, voice struggling to stay even as his eyes narrow at your words. You try your best to remain calm as the lieutenant continues to stare, skin flushed with fear as he shakes his head at you. “You’re a rotten brat, you know that?” He spits, watching with hate as you look away with your chin held high. You won’t admit defeat, not until it’s ripped from you with prying hands.
“It’s got my fucking name on the blade, sweetheart-“ he grounds out, leaning forward as his eyes burn into your own. “And unless you’ve got it branded on you too, I’d suggest being a good girl and giving it back.”
The room is laced with a thick silence while you shiver where you stand. You nod meekly to him from across the table, letting loose an uneven breath. You hold his gaze, stomach churning with months of suppressed fear and unrequited adoration. You speak to him softly, as if your voice is made of truth.
“You left it, and I found it. It’s mine now,”
He laughs at you, the sound hateful and violent in your ears. He pushes himself off the desk where he leans, the mask building a wall of irritation around him. His footsteps land heavy as he’s crossing the room, sauntering towards you with a determined look in his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he states, shaking his head condescendingly at you.
Three steps, and he’s right in front of you. His figure towers over you, face tilted down to look at you. He smells like tobacco and pine, and you notice the spread of ink that peeks out from his sleeve. A finger grazes under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his dark eyes. “Give it back.”
It’s a losing game, and you’re trying desperately to win. You shake your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. No.
The lieutenant drags over a chair, exhaling heavily as he takes a seat. His legs are spread, a hand resting on his thigh as you shake under his touch. He looks away for a moment, as if he’s mulling over something. Tsking softly to himself, he reaches a hand out and hooks it into your vest before tugging you down, “patience is wearing thin, sweetheart. I want it back, now.”
Your breath fans hot against his mask, eyes widening in shock as his grip tightens on you. His eyes are swimming with a haunting rage. The careful distance you’ve kept from his is crumbling, heart skipping a beat to catch up with the lieutenant. He pulls you closer, and you’re tripping under yourself as the mask stares back at you in challenge.
“I’m sorry, sir-” you whisper under your breath, the tip of your shoes hitting his boots as your shoulders sag. “I’m keeping it,” you say honestly, letting the shame wash over you. There’s nowhere to hide, all the time spent trying to get him to see you when you should’ve been running.
“Wrong answer.”
His hand drags you down and over him, knees pressing into your stomach as the breath is stolen from you. His hand finds its place along the back of your head, keeping you down as his fingers run along your back. Head spinning with all the ways in which you’ve been waiting for this, you squirm on his lap and brace your hands under you and on his thigh.
The lieutenants face drops down to you, mask brushing against your cheek. Your mind is blank now, the feel of his hot breath against your skin causing you to freeze. His dog tags dangle over your back, brushing against your shirt. “You should really mind your manners,” he admits, plucking the knife from your back pocket. “You know better than this.”
Your ass hangs up and over his knee, his hand resting along your upper thigh to keep you in place. The blade clicks open, and he lets loose a chuckle as he appreciates it. He flips it between his fingers out of sight, pulling back your hair as it takes place against your throat. Your eyes squeeze shut at the touch, the cool metal pressed against your skin and causing you to shiver.
There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in silence. You count your breaths, biting your cheek and waiting patiently for the lieutenant to make his next move. Apologies are at the tip of your tongue, but fall short as his blade runs along your skin.
A sickening smack lands against your ass, body jumping from the unexpected touch. Desire runs up and along your spine, head cloudy with longing for a ghost in your haunted home. You can feel his hand rub softly into your skin, breath coming loose as he pulls away. “Lieutenant - please, I’m so sorry-”
Another smack, this time harder as it leaves a sting. “Simon - don’t you remember, love? That’s the name I’m gonna carve into your fucking skin,” he spits, digging the tip of his knife into your throat as you nod to him. Heat is pooling between your thighs that rub together in anticipation, lip caught between your teeth as you peel open your eyes and glance over your shoulder to him.
You regret ever having bothered.
He stares at you with a hateful lust, a smirk playing on his lips that are just out of your sight. Simon dips his fingers between your thighs and rubs soft circles, savoring the way you melt under his touch. You wiggle your hips, shifting on his knees and spreading your legs open just an inch. He notices, sending another smack to your ass. “Filthy,” he laughs, two fingers dragging along the wet desire that continues to grow within you. “You’re not even sorry - are you?”
You shake your head, nails digging into his thigh as his fingertips dig into your clit. “I am - I didn’t mean to steal it - I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Simon,”
His name is unexpected as it falls from you, but you say it like it belongs to you. The bulge in his pants is growing, dick twitching at the way you squirm on his lap. All those months spent dreaming of you on your knees is starting to catch up with him, and he just can’t run away. He grits his teeth, the sound of his name on your lips sending him straight to hell. Good thing he’s friends with the devil.
Simon’s hands leave you suddenly, the knife clicking closed and set onto the table. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back until your neck is craned and your eyes begin to water at the pain. “If you really are sorry - then get on your knees and ask for forgiveness.”
He abruptly pushes you off his lap, and you tumble to the ground with your head smacking against the floor. You pull air into your lungs desperately, body recoiling from the shock of being thrown off of him. Hands pushing from under you to brace yourself, you look to him with innocent wide eyes and full lips that wobble in fear. He leans back in the chair, arms braced on the sides as he looks at your expectantly.
Shamefully, you crawl between his legs and sit on your knees. The knife sits alone on the table, watching you mockingly as you blink up to Simon. There’s a wide grin spread across his face, though you’re not able to see it. The mask keeps you from him, a careful distance that he isn’t willing to give up yet.
“I’m really sorry,” you mumble softly, blushing crimson as his hands fall to his belt. “I’m sorry.” He unbuckles the belt, dragging down the zipper as his eyes remain on your pretty little face with eyes glossy from tears. He’s nodding to you, pushing down the waist of his pants until you’re staring at the swollen tip of his dick that’s wet from pre cum.
“I know you are - but I want to see you beg.”
His hand comes to lazily stroke himself, hissing as he squeezes the tip of himself. Your hands gently rest against his knees, chest coiling tight with a familiar ache. You sit there patient, waiting for his approval as Simon jerks himself off. The heat between your legs is burning, heart struggling to keep a steady pace.
Then he gives a small nod, hands drifting to the side as your mouth waters. You lean forward, little lips parting wide. Simon sighs softly as your lips wrap around him, cheeks hollowing and eyes fluttering closed.
Your head bobs in his lap, hand coming to stroke what you can’t take. His hand tangles itself in your hair, guiding your movements slowly. Your tongue dances along his tip, his hips bucking at the touch and fingers tightening their grip. Simon lets his head fall back, waves of pleasure rocking through him at the way you hum against his dick. “Shit, you’re such a nasty slut,” he laughs out.
Lips dragging along his shaft, you take him inch by devastating inch without hesitation. Your nails are digging into his knees, clawing at him to take control as he begins to unravel. His shoulders drop, groans pulled from him when drool dribbles out from your lip and onto him.
Simon watches as you force him to the base of your throat, soft gargling sounds emitting from you. You can’t take all of him, but your hand massages the rest of his shaft, the touch soft and delicate. His head is cloudy with desire, forcing your head further down until you start to choke, tears blurring your vision. He’s abandoning all self control, letting it slip from his fingertips like a thread of gold. Doesn’t matter when you’re on your knees for him, sucking his dick like its the only thing you’ve dreamed of.
“There’s my good girl,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth. You’re humming, bobbing your head yes as you continue to let him fuck your mouth. He feels sick with pleasure, hand pushing you further along his dick until he’s seeing stars.
You’re eagerly on your knees, chest tightening with every moan that fires from Simons lips and aims straight to you. It’s got you feeling confident, sitting up on your knees and licking your tongue along the bottom of him. “Fuck - that’s it, sweetheart,” he grounds out, and you’re pressing your thighs together to stop yourself from dripping. You look up at him, dick caught in your throat and eyes sparkling with obedience.
Your teeth drag along his shaft, causing him to slam your head down. You choke, struggling to pull back and catch your breath. “Bloody hell,” he muses, the pad of his thumb rubbing into your cheek softly. You pull away, lips smacking as you try to control your uneven breaths. Simon watches as you rub the drool and spit from your lips, eyes turning a shade darker when you give him an innocent smile.
“Come here.”
When you stand, his fingers push themselves between your thighs. His hand comes to undo your pants, your lip caught between your teeth as you wait patiently for him. He’s pushed down the hem of your pants, hands coming to grip your waist. You stand there silently, holding your breath when he glances up to you. “Well? Show me how sorry you are,”
It takes you a moment to peel away your clothes, strewn on another chair where his things lie. Your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment as your arms snake around his neck, hesitantly coming to sit in his lap. He leans over to grab the knife, flicking it open again and pressing it against your chest. “Simon,” you breath softly, fingertips brushing along the base of his neck.
“Can you forgive me?”
He shakes his head at you, muttering filthy curses as his fingers dig into your waist. You’ve been waiting for this, soaked through and blind with guilt, you let the tip of him brush against your folds. Simon drags the knife to your throat, watching you with his breath held as you sink slowly onto his dick.
It’s a feeling you’ve only ever dreamed of. He pushes into you completely, heart beginning to falter and freeze at the pure pleasure that spreads between you. Your stomach is tightening, hips grinding into him softly. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, the hold on his knife tightening until his knuckles are white. “I’m considering it.”
It wouldn’t be so bad - to spend the rest of your life chasing after this high.
Hesitation has been tossed aside, breaths becoming in sync as he watches with baited breath as you grind into his lap and mewl out moans.
You pull yourself up with shaking thighs, falling back into him and letting a moan slip past your lips. You bounce on his dick, hips rolling and grinding with his knife pressed against your throat. Disgraceful slick wet sounds are ringing in your ears like a sickening melody. His hands are pressing and pulling you down, his hips bucking up with your movements.
Simon garbs a handful of your ass, keeping you in balance as you ride him ruthlessly. The knot of pleasure is tying itself tight, and you’re whining in his ear from the ecstasy “That’s it - look at you, such a good girl riding my dick.”
“Mm-mm,” you moan, head falling into the crook of his neck as he drags the knife to your chest, letting the tip press against your skin. “Please - please, I’m so sorry, Simon,” you gasp out, tightening your arms around his neck as he slams his hips into you.
His touch is rough and ruthless, impatient with pleasure as he smacks your ass that’s now red with his handprint. His. The thought sends him spiraling, groaning loudly. Simon lets you roll into him, bouncing in his lap with his breath fanning hot against your neck. “Careful,” he laughs against you, fingers traveling to your clit to rub harsh circles. “I just might think you like this.”
And you do. In fact, you’re overwhelmed by the sensational desire that’s boiling within you. Your moans are becoming desperate, nails scarping along his shoulder blades as he continues to fuck you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, practically hanging off of him as he rubs the wet pleasure between your thighs.
It’s just the two of you. His hand is greedily snapping your hips back to him, and you meet the touch eagerly. There’s a fire that’s building within you - and neither of you can smother it out. Your chest is tightening, lips mumbling out pathetic moans as Simon laughs, the sound dark and tantalizing. “You do - don’t you?” He asks, and you’re nodding into his neck with pleas rippling off of you. “I know you do, I bet your pretty little pussy is gonna cum on my dick-” he states, suddenly grabbing your throat and forcing you to look at him.
You hold his stare, mewling out and begging for him as he rubs quickly. You’re losing your sanity, hips eagerly grinding into his lap until a simmering heat takes a hold of you, crying out in pleasure. “Right about now.” He finishes, watching as you smile innocently at him.
He still fucks you though, riding out your orgasm as he chases after his own.
It only takes him another moment until he’s following you, sloppy and lazy thrusts into your hips. Simon is grounding out your name, gritting his teeth and savoring the way your slick cunt tightens around him. His head falls back against the chair, breath hot and uneven as he snaps and slams his hips into you one last time.
Then you’re sitting pretty and patient in his lap, letting him grow soft in you with your lip caught in between your teeth. Your eyes are glossed over with happiness, stomach flipping as he closes the blade and leaves a hand resting against your waist. Seconds slip by in silence, buy neither of you seem to mind. His breath is slowly untangling itself from yours, gaze dark and haunting.
When you peel yourself away from him, shaking hands pulling up your pants and blushing scarlet, he tugs you closer to him. You button your pants, still wet from the way Simon pulled all those dirty little secrets from you like they were his to begin with. He lets his hands slide to your ass, giving it a final squeeze.
“Such a good girl,” he says softly, a smile playing at his lips as you blush deeper. He stands, cupping your face in his hands and looking at you with the same adoration that you’ve given him for months. “I think you’ve learned your lesson - yeah, sweetheart?”
You nod up to him eagerly, the strings of your heart snapping and breaking as he pulls himself from you. “Uh-huh,” you breathe, and you mean it. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, letting his finger commit the feel of your skin to memory.
“Be good for me - get some rest, love.”
He left the knife in your back pocket, and it sits there now - waiting for him to come back.
5K notes · View notes
multiland · 1 year
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summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?
pairing: Joshua x female reader (ft. best friend Jeonghan and the rest of svt)
genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut.
warnings: kissing, tension, fingering, a bit of oral (m), mutual pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, Joshua being oblivious, soft dom Joshua, body worshipping, dirty talk, unprotected sex. Shua is the sweetest. This was an old fic I wrote for another group, so I decided to take it and edit it enough to use it again.
please leave some feedback!! it motivates me a lot🩷
word count: 12k
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You’ve heard a lot of good things about turning twenty-seven, and despite you not being the biggest fan of celebrating your birthdays, you weren’t surprised the moment your group of friends decided to book a trip to celebrate properly.
Consisting of mostly males, you’re used to them taking every opportunity to drink and throw parties. However, since spending time with them is fun and makes you happy, you would never actually complain.
"Do you think it's gonna be like, really cold out there?" That's the main question spinning around your head as you stare at your open closet, still debating on which pieces of clothing are the ones that should be packed.
Jeonghan, who's sprawled on your bed with his back against the headboard as he scrolls through social media, hums, not looking up.
He’s been your best friend since high school. You had heard about him back then due to his prince-like appearance, and him unsurprisingly having every single girl wrapped around his finger. Funny enough, and seemingly accustomed to the attention, he never really batted an eye at any of them. Despite being aware of his almost-unrealistic beauty, you didn’t really gave much thought to anything related to him besides whatever you’d hear the girls fussing about across the corridors. 
But then, on a good day, you found each other rolling your eyes at the same girl’s annoying tone of voice, the two of you realized and even chuckled. It was an instant click and you’ve been inseparable since then. 
A perfect balance between being different but so similar at the same time. You truly didn’t believe in soulmates, but turns out you can find one in the shape of a friend.
It had never occurred to you, however, that befriending the prince of school would instantly make you part of a much bigger group of, admittedly, really good-looking guys and girls when you started college.
That’s what brings you here.
"What do you think, Sherlock?" He quirks a brow, as he glances up in your direction. "We're going to the mountains, there's no way it's gonna be hot up there unless it’s like, a volcano."
An annoyed sigh falls past your lips as you roll your eyes at his antics, grabbing different styles of sweaters, hoodies, jackets, and all that could be of use in such weather. Turning around, you carefully fold your clothes and place them into the opened suitcase at the edge of the bed.
"Please remind me. Why were we going to the mountains instead of the beach, again?" 
Jeonghan's lips curl up in a soft smirk, locking his phone and tossing it to the side before his eyes land on yours.
"Because going to the beach is too basic. We always go to the beach."
"So all of you just decided to go on a trip to the cold ass mountains and rent wooden cabins in the middle of April in the name of… What? Eccentricity?" You narrow your eyes. "Yeah. Sounds like something my group of friends would do."
The man chuckles.
"Don't be a brat. You didn't have to pay for anything, this is your birthday gift from us, and all you have to do is look pretty and try to get your grumpy ass to have fun." 
You fold your arms over your chest, raising a brow at his words.
"Yeah, sounds like my dream holiday having to babysit drunk adults."
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.
"Look, complain all you want once we’re back. Let’s not ruin the mood." He insists. "Besides, since it's your birthday, you can avoid all kinds of responsibilities. But you don't tell them I told you that or i’ll make sure to bring Soonyoung to your bed when he’s drunk and crying."
Panic instantly crosses your features.
“My lips are totally sealed.” It's a promise, gesturing to zip them with your fingers.
Plopping yourself down onto the mattress, you lay your head on Jeonghan’s lap. His slender fingers immediately fly to thread in your hair, gentle scraps on your scalp relaxing your body.
"Then, does that mean you're gonna take care of them for me?" You ask, looking up at his face in hope, trying your best puppy eyes just to guilt trip him.
Jeonghan scoffs.
"Me? No way. I did it once and ended up having both Seokmin and Soonyoung sneaking into my bed. Soonyoung kept crying and Seokmin just laughed at him. They were so loud I had to leave the room. Not to mention I had to wash the damn sheets cause one of them vomited in the middle of the night."
Grimacing at the thought, you really try not to laugh at the same time.
“Sounds like a ride.” You tease. "What about Seungkwan?"
Dark eyes glare down at you.
"He was sleeping peacefully in his bed."
"Why didn't one of them go to his bed?"
Sighing, he says: "I didn’t let them move. Having these two drunk is one thing, having these two drunk and Seungkwan cursing at the top of his lungs at three in the morning is something entirely different. We’ve had complaints from the neighbors."
"Yeah… I wouldn’t risk it, either."
Then, he chuckles.
"The best option is leaving them to either Cheol or Minghao." You nod in agreement, “Preferably Cheol. Hao doesn’t have that much patience after a while.”
Right after, his phone goes off and he checks the incoming message. "Well, here we go again." He comments, taking a deep breath before pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
Your eyes open, brows knitting together as you sit up.
"What's up?"
"Soonyoung was betting with Seokmin and got his head stuck somewhere around the park fence." He explains, "Gotta go. Sorry."
He stands up, and you can do nothing but smile sympathetically at him.
"Good luck with that." With the same smile, you pat his arm. He steps forward and flicks on your forehead with his fingers, before walking to the door. You groan in response, rubbing the sore area.
"Don't forget the vans will be here at 7 a.m."
Right. You need to act like an early bird, and your first reaction to the reminder is a groan.
"How many times do I have to say I’m not a morning person?"
“The same amount of times I have to tell Soonyoung to keep his head out of any kind of holes.” He adds, waving one last time before finally exiting your room.
As soon as he leaves, you let out a big sigh. Truthfully, you’re intrigued by how this trip is going to be, and you kinda know for sure sleeping’s gonna be a challenge.
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The sound of your alarm pulls you out of the slumber you worked so hard to get in. Groaning, you stretch out your arm to stop the torture from continuing any further. Your lids don’t seem to cooperate, too tired and heavy to open and making you question if you really need to go on that trip to begin with. You could just call them and say you woke up feeling ill and you can’t leave the house while being sick, right?
As if on cue, you instantly have Jeonghan’s voice resonating in your head, telling you all the possible consequences of you bailing everyone when everything’s ready. All the ways he would blackmail you into getting up, in short.
So after taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs once again, you pull the duvet off of you and stand up, dragging your feet sleepily towards the bathroom to take a shower and get as ready as you can actually be.
Admittedly, you took longer than you should have thanks to all the times you dozed off in the shower, and that’s exactly what’s making you rush as your phone keeps buzzing incessantly against the marbled sink, with incoming calls from your best friend.
You can’t even make yourself look presentable at this point, messily throwing your clothes on and grabbing your luggage to drag downstairs, your hair still dripping wet.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You exclaim, picking up one of his calls, and then hanging up before you could even get a response from the other side of the line.
Turning the lights off, you open the front door and place the luggage down to close the entrance, trying to catch your breath, cause for fuck’s sake, you’re still sleepy, it’s early in the morning and you already not only had to run downstairs, but also carry such a heavy suitcase on your own…Cause if you’re being honest, you probably packed more than what you needed for a weekend-long trip.
The sound of the van’s door sliding open can be heard from behind, as you lock the door. The wet droplets falling from your hair dampen your shirt and make you shiver. However, nothing prepares your body for the reaction it gets as soon as you turn around and see him.
Standing there, perfect silky hair dangling over his eyes and curling up at the nape of his neck. Sparkly round orbits narrowed in a try to protect themselves from the inclement rays of sunshine, and pretty lips forming the sweetest tight-lipped smile you could’ve dreamed to have seen this early in the morning. Your heart skips a bit, and all the sleepiness washes away; all of this before you can even stop yourself from returning the gesture.
Joshua Hong. You met him one of those times when Jeonghan had dragged you to a small gathering with his friends, then finding him at the nearest convenience store you had from your job.
As soon as you saw him, you were instantly smitten. His doe eyes, cute nose, and sweet voice made the air get stuck in your throat. And as if being so incredibly pretty-faced wasn’t enough, there’s the plus of such a warm personality.
What at first started off as simple acquaitances with friends in common, slowly blossomed into a friendship. Joshua was often who spent time with you at parties, whenever Jeonghan was busy either playing alcohol games, or arguing over something random with someone else. He was also who you found at the book store in search of some kind of book so you could learn how to bake cupcakes in your sugar craving nights. He is, also, someone you feel totally comfortable with, someone selfless who never judges anyone. Someone with a view of the world in a positive light, a free spirit that only encourages you to be true to yourself and accept others as they are. 
All the times you’ve felt out of place, or simply aren’t in the mood to do anything at all, there he is to sit with you and listen to all your rants with that sweet smile adorning his face, just as if you were telling him the most interesting of stories.
He’s a music enthusiast. Likes to play guitar and morning walks to clear his mind. Such sunchild like him was able to charm a moonchild like you. So different, but so similar at the same time.
Despite that, the two of you ended up having more things in common than you could’ve expected. None of you like confrontation, and often prefer spontaneity. Both enjoy rainy days, and spending time at home in front of a fireplace when winter arrives. He’s a gentleman, never speaks over anyone and rarely raises his voice. He’s patient, and always makes you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk.
All those little things did nothing but irremediably attract you, feel nothing but admiration towards the way he sees life and empathizes with you or others.
He’s sweet, and fun to be around. With a sweet laugh and authenticity, the way he’s so soft-spoken and the way he never hesitates to offer help with chores, he’s domestic, so down to earth, nothing short of a prince. A good friend, a good listener, and in truth, you could’ve considered him one of your closest friends if it wasn’t for a simple reason… As a best friend, you have Jeonghan for. In his case, you have a big, fat crush on. So, although sharing a lot of time together, you just can’t help the way your heart flutters whenever he’s around. With a friend you share teasing, pranks, messiness… With Joshua, you share peace, comfort.
The already too-long list of traits to make you fall for someone has had his name highlighted for a while, and it seems that he always finds a new way to make you fall even deeper. 
Like that day he sang his favorite song in front of you with his guitar in hand. You knew back then you were done for.
This crush you have on him is something you’ve been harboring, keeping to yourself as a precious secret, cause yeah, he’s your friend, but also if the way you look at him when he’s not even doing anything doesn’t give you away, then maybe everyone else is just oblivious.
Joshua makes his way over to you and your heart races. God, he looks so good and you look like you just rolled off your bed and fell into a puddle.
He smiles again and leans down to pick your suitcase, looking into your eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Morning, Shua. I’m doing good, what about you?” Greet him back, a simple task it should be. But your voice betrays you and comes out in almost a whisper. Since you can't make it obvious, you gnaw at your lower lip in embarrassment. However, Joshua being Joshua, pays no mind.
“I’m great, thank you. Let me help you with this.”
And they say chivalry is dead. Your lips form a smile, following behind him on the way to the van.
“Thank you.” You say softly, stopping behind him as he places your luggage somewhere with the rest of the suitcases.
“My pleasure.”
You flinch when the van parked behind suddenly opens its door, and the next thing you hear is your name being called from the inside. The voices of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Chan, who you find waving at you as soon as you turn your head. With a chuckle, you wave back at them, gesturing with your hand for them to stop the noise before someone gets mad right after.
Joshua meets your gaze when you look back, and gestures with his head for you to get in. You smile again because that’s all you can do when he’s around.
Then you hop in the vehicle and Jeonghan waves at you from the last row of seats at the back. Making your way over, you keep the same small smile, noticing the sleeping boys across the other seats before you plop down next to your friend.
The door closes right after Joshua hops back in, and you’re stealing glances at him until the man next to you grabs your face between his fingers and turns your head to look at him. He frowns.
“Any reason in particular why you’re soaking?”
Your brows knit together, and he releases you.
“Just felt like getting refreshed.”
Your best friend snorts, and you shoot him a glare in return.
“You fell asleep in the shower, didn’t you?”
“Shut up.”
He giggles, and you decide to ignore him as the car starts moving, fastening your seatbelt. It doesn't take long until your eyes fly back to the object of your desires.
You don’t know how you’re gonna survive being so close to him.
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Three hours into the road trip and you’re sleeping soundly against Jeonghan’s shoulder while he scrolls through his phone. The van comes to a stop, so everyone is able to go to the bathroom or buy more snacks. Some of the boys are gathering outside before Jun approaches Seungcheol and Joshua.
“Hey, do you guys think I could move to your van? My seatbelt isn’t working and I’ve been panicking over every single bump on the road for like three hours, I’m exhausted.”
Seungcheol and Joshua laugh.
“Why would you wait three hours to say anything?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head in confusion. Jun’s brows furrow together before he says:
“What else was I supposed to do? Stop the van in the middle of nowhere?”
“You could’ve called me and I would’ve asked the driver to pull over to take care of it.” The eldest shrugs, Jun groans.
“Can I go to your van or not?”
Seungcheol looks at Joshua, who shrugs as he sips on his water bottle.
“Sure, I can move to the last row.”
Jun smiles with his thumbs up before they make their way back to the van. Junhui goes to the other vehicle to take his pillow and bring it with him. Joshua, once inside, grabs some of his stuff and walks toward the back of the car. Seeing you asleep as the corners of his mouth curl up in the most subtle smile at the scene, right when Jeonghan looks up at him in question.
“Jun is moving to this van.” He says quietly as if reading the male's mind. Jeonghan nods and goes back to his business.
The slender Junhui finally hops into the van with his stuff, taking Joshua’s previous seat and fastening his seatbelt. The door slides closed and Joshua secures himself as well, tucking his AirPods in his ears and playing his music.
Everything is peaceful for the next thirty or so minutes, Joshua is currently with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, head back resting against the headrest as his mind focuses only on the music.
But then, you stir in your sleep and move to lean your head on his shoulder. His body tenses as soon as he feels your sudden proximity, face nuzzling in the crook of his neck and forcing him to gulp. He starts playing with his own fingers, averting his gaze from the window, not really knowing how to react. He waits for you to realize, but soon notices you’re still deeply asleep, so he lets you stay there for the rest of the road.
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“Hey, wake up, we arrived,” Jeonghan calls, gently shaking you. “Hey, open your eyes,” He repeats, and you’re finally woken up, sitting straight and rubbing your eyes to help them get used to the light.
Disoriented for a moment, the gears in your brain slowly start to work at their normal speed. You stretch out your now sore limbs as you look at your surroundings. All the boys left their vans except you, Jeonghan trying to wake you up, and Joshua, whom you notice is still seated beside you. You frown, but he smiles.
“Wait, weren’t you sitting in the front row? What did I miss? How long did I sleep?”
He chuckles, charmed by your utter confusion.
“Well, yeah, but Jun moved to this van. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been sleeping for four hours,” Jeonghan is the one to respond, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.
“Four hours?!” You exclaim, rubbing your eyes. 
The faintest grunt manages to be hidden from you, and all of you three make your way to exit the van. Jeonghan is the first one to jump out, followed by Joshua. Your vision is still blurry and you’re still clumsy from the grogginess, which doesn’t make the calculation between the van and the floor an easy task.
Joshua notices, so he extends his hand for you to take. You look at it, then at his face. He offers you yet another gentle smile and your stomach flips even in your current state. Still, you smile back and accept his hand, clasping yours around it as he helps you land on your feet without an issue.
You reunite with the rest of the guys soon after, and they’re quick to erase any trace of tiredness as soon as they start being their loud selves, taking turns to hug you or pat your head.
And well, you don’t complain, because it’s nice to have all of them around.
You take a second to look at your surroundings, but the air is way too filled with haze to be able to distinguish anything at all. The cold breeze chills you to the bone and you start to feel the urge to get into to the warmth of the cabin, and as if your prayers had been heard, you spot Seungcheol walking with a few pairs of keys and two girls in their twenties following behind him.
“Okay. So,  we have four cabins at our disposition. In the first one will stay Minghao, Seokmin, Vernon and Jihoon. Junhui, Chan, Seungkwan and Soonyoung in the second one, Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu in the third, and lastly, the fourth one is for Joshua, myself, and our girl here.” He explains. “They the hosts, Jihye and Jangmi.”
The ground beneath you quakes at the thought of sharing a place with Joshua himself, breath hitching in your throat and mouth going dry. Your eyes nervously travel to the two girls in front of you, as if asking for help. They don't help you, but they also seem very welcoming and kind.
“Hi, I’m Jihye. We live here in a house that’s around the corner, and we’ll gladly be available for anything you may need.” She smiles. “The four cabins are equipped with furniture, fireplaces, kitchens, two bathrooms, and four rooms respectively. Each room has a TV, a heater, a desk, and a closet for you to place all of your items.”
“In the living room you’ll find the fireplace, comfortable couches, and even a sofa bed. In the kitchen, you have a small dining table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and different kinds of utensils for you to use,” The second girl adds. “Here in the common areas, you have some benches, picnic tables, and grillers. We also have wifi and my name is Jangmi, by the way.” She chuckles, and all of you laugh along.”
“Also, the bathrooms have a water heater and a first aid kit inside the cabinets. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out and we’ll be happy to help.” Continues Jihye, with a kind smile.
All of you bow in gratitude for their help, right before Soonyoung speaks.
“Are you aware that we’re throwing a party tomorrow night?” He asks in genuine curiosity, Jihye nods.
“Yeah, we’ve been notified and you don’t have to worry about anything. Since we’re in a mountain, there shouldn’t be a problem when it comes to music, for example.”
“Cool!”
“Okay but, I have a question.” You finally speak, feeling everyone’s eyes landing on you. You clear your throat. “Would it be weird if I asked you to join?”
Certainly, you don’t know these girls, but they seem very sweet and it would be awful of you not to, at least, ask them if they’d like to join when they’re so close.
“Oh that’s alright! You don’t have to.” One of them says, waving her hand dismissively.
“But we’d love it if you joined us,” Seokmin says, walking to you and placing his arm around your neck. “It’ll be fun.”
All of them agree, and the girls seem a bit taken aback, you suppose they’ve never been included in anything similar when it comes to tourists. But then, and after a quick glance to one another, they smile.
“If that’s okay with you, we’d love to.”
You smile at them.
“Then it’s settled up.”
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Needless to say, you didn’t take long to stop by Jeonghan’s cabin. After taking a much-needed shower and getting diner, you dressed in your coziest pajamas and exited your place to visit your best friend.
And there you are, sprawled across his bed as he sits on the chair in front of the desk.
Staring up at the ceiling fan, you blurt out:
“I was hoping we’d stay at the same cabin.”
“Don’t pretend like you like me that much.” Jeonghan promptly responds. Teasing you as you prop yourself up with your elbows to glare at him. “You have the Hong Jisoo himself in there, what else could you ask for as a birthday gift?”
A faint gasp escapes you, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He laughs out loud.
“Shut the fuck up, would you?” You whisper-shout, crawling to the edge of the bed to get closer. He tries to stop laughing but your distressed expression makes it impossible for him. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. No one’s supposed to know.”
“Yeah, because no one would ever notice the way you shamelessly keep staring at him.”
“You’re exaggerating.” You groan, smacking his thigh while he continues laughing. “Cut it out, you asshole.”
His laugh slowly dies down, then he catches his breath.
“Anyway… Not the point.” He continues. “He’s going to be in the room across from yours. Would you really want to have me there instead of him?”
There it is. That stupid look with a quirked brow. He really knows you well.
You groan, covering your face with your palms before laying down on your back.
“You’re so fucking annoying”
“I wonder how you’ll react when I tell you that you slept on him for over an hour.”
Eyes flying open, you almost fall off the bed.
“What did you say?! What the fuck? I did not, you always like to see me distressed. You’re fucking with me.” Embarrassment floods inside you, grabbing another pillow to repeatedly hit him with it as a coping mechanism.
Jeonghan once again laughs at your reaction, covering himself with his arms before snatching the pillow away.
“Stop it with the damned pillow.” He groans. “And no, I’m not lying. Though I do love the way you’re losing your shit.”
“How am I supposed to look at him whe-” You trail off, “Wait, did I drool? Snore? Fart?” Jeonghan laughs again. “Stop laughing for fuck’s sake, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m going to bite your head off!”
“God you’re so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Nothing big, he’ll understand if you’re a bit gassy.”
“What?!”
He laughs out loud again.
“I’m just kidding. You didn’t do anything.”
“What kind of best friend are you?”
“The one you chose, sweetheart.” He teases, grabbing your chin with his fingers and winking at you. You roll your eyes, then smack his hand away.
The door opens right after, and Vernon's head pops in.
“Hey, wanna watch a movie with us?”
“Who are ‘us’?” You ask in return.
“Ehh… I don’t know? Kwan, Chan, Hao, Jun, Joshua… Me?” He shrugs. “Most of us.”
Giving it a thought, you end up realizing you don't truly feel like making a fool of yourself any further, so you smile and shake your head.
“I think I’ll pass. I have to unpack and I’m feeling tired.”
“Sure. See you tomorrow then.” Vernon smiles, waving before closing the door.
Jeonghan gives you a suspicious look.
“What?”
“You slept the whole road and you’re tired?”
“Well, yeah… Panicking is exhausting.” You respond, gaining a roll of his eyes in return. “I’ll go to my room and think about my life decisions. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  You add, walking towards the door.
“Sure, just know I’ll tell Joshua you didn’t stay because of him.”
You glare back at your best friend. He laughs.
“Make sure I don’t touch your coffee in the morning, Yoon Jeonghan”
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You’re snuggled up in the warmth of the designated bed, sleeping peacefully until the door slams open and a bunch of men enter the room singing very loudly a happy birthday.
A groan erupts from your throat against the pillow, lights being turned on before you can even sit up and rub your eyes to adjust to the sudden illuminance. The cheerful idiots continue singing off key on purpose, clapping as Seungcheol walks to you with a cake in his hands, candles already lit and ready for you to blow off.
You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, though, running your fingers through your hair in a failed try to look a little less disheveled. Jeonghan jumps onto the opposite end of your bed, kneeling as he also sings and claps. Soonyoung, on the other hand, climbs onto the edge of the mattress just to sing louder and start throwing some improvised confetti. They continue hollering, clapping, and overall being a mess. Then you make a wish, blowing the candles out right after. Lazy smile on your face, clapping along with them.
“Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, guys. If it wasn’t for the gesture, I would’ve murdered all of you for waking me up.” You sarcastically say, accepting the knife Seungcheol hands you and cutting a small piece of cake.
“Aren’t you eating?” Chan asks from behind, you shake your head.
“You guys eat first. I still have to wash up.”
With that, Seokmin takes the cake away from you and exits the room with some of the guys following behind.
“We still have to go grocery shopping for tonight,” Seungcheol says.
“Yeah, I can go with Jeonghan.”
“I’ll go too. Jihye is going to come with us to be a guide,” Cheol adds. “Do you wanna join, Shua?” He asks the man standing next to him, the same one whose presence you hadn’t noticed until now. A sudden wave of embarrassment flows throughout you, considering the way you look, cheeks warming up when he smiles.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Okay then we’ll meet outside in thirty minutes,” Seungcheol adds. Stepping closer, he pats your head lovingly. “Happy birthday, once again.”
You mumble a “Thank you.” at him, eyes briefly glancing over at Joshua, who only gives you another one of his gentle and reassuring smiles before walking out of the room.
Jeonghan is quick to engulf you in a hug, a hand stroking the hair at the back of your head.
“You’re an oldie now.” He mutters against your head. “Can you feel your thirties breathing on your neck yet?"
You roll your eyes and push him away, glaring at him. He chuckles.
“Get out, I have to take a shower.”
“Right, sleeping beauty.” He leaves another caress on your head accompanied by a soft smile, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, that dragon breath will even scare the demons away.”
Covering your mouth with your hands, your face is soon face filled with distress.
“Jeonghan!”
He laughs loudly, standing up and making his way towards the door.
“Just kidding, see you later.” He shuts the door closed behind him after a very obnoxious wink.
Air fills up your lungs with a deep breath, Jeonghan's comment sobering you up immediately and forcing you to hurry off the bed to get into the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed.
As soon as you’re ready, you grab a scarf from the closet, then your phone to make your way out of the cabin, not before stealing a very much needed piece of cake.
The sunlight greets you when you walk through the door, its usual warmth doing nothing in contrast to the freezing air that collides against the exposed skin of your face. You’re quick to wrap the scarf around your neck, boots dragging across the grassy ground as you pull your phone out to of your pocket to send Jeonghan a message.
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A sigh leaves your lips, and you're shoving your phone back into your pocket the moment you find Joshua already standing there, hands in his pockets and fluffy hair shining under the sunlight.
He's craning his neck as soon as he notices your presence, smiling at you.
“Good morning, again.” 
“Nice seeing you again, birthday girl.” He greets you back, stepping closer and patting your head sweetly. His touch is gentle, way more gentle than Jeonghan’s or any others. He’s careful and sweet. Still, you chuckle to not make it weird.
“It's like I'm a like a dog. Everyone’s been patting my head today.”
Joshua chuckles, a small cloud of fog escaping from his lips to remind you of the cold surroundings, even when you seem to have forgotten about it with the heat in your veins.
“I’m sorry, we are really annoying.”
Laughing, you shake your head.
“No, no. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You assure, wishing you could add how you’re especially fond of his gentle touches. “I know that’s your way of showing affection.” You add. Because that’s what you hope in your head, that somehow, he have affection for you.
“Of course.” A light and melodious chuckle resonates after his response, patting your head once again.
Silly little giggles are the only thing that come from you in result.
Then, he looks behind you. His smile grows and he lifts his hand up to wave. When you turn around, you see what he’s staring at.
Seungcheol and Jihye make their way towards the two of you.
“Ready to leave?” 
“Yeah, we are.” You smile, rubbing your hands together in search of warmth.
“Bonding, aren’t we?” Seungcheol teases, making you smile.
“You could say that.”
You look at Joshua after responding, he chuckles, and your stomach flips.
“Alright then! Follow me, the store is nearby.” Jihye finally speaks, soon having the three of you following her lead.
The walk is quick and chill, something you’re grateful for considering how cold it is outside. When you arrive at the market, you grab a cart and start walking.
“Okay, so, what do we need?” You ask Cheol, who gives it a brief thought.
“Some drinks, snacks, plates, cups? Preferably plastic ones. Also, some trash plastic bags to clean in the morning.”
“Okay, the plasticware is here at the right. The snacks and drinks are on the opposite side, where the refrigerators are." Jihye explains, hands gesturing as she points to the directions.
“Good. I’ll go with Jihye and you can take care of the snacks and drinks.” He says to both Joshua and you. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday.”
“I might take the whole store with me, then.” You joke, and he chuckles.
The four of you part ways, with you and Joshua going together. He takes you by surprise by sneaking one of his hands in between your arms. You look up at him, confused.
“I’ll do it.” He smiles. You accept the offer with a smile and move aside to let him take your place. Your heartbeats increase in speed at the simple act of chivalry, while you're also trying to distract yourself by eyeing up the shelves.
How’s it possible that he hasn't noticed the way his mere presence puts your whole world upside down?
Looking at all the different flavors, sizes, and textures of potato chips, Doritos, and sweets that are displayed, you decide to quietly contemplate the ones you're craving the most. Joshua's soft voice in the distance lets you be aware that he’s gonna go and grab some beers while you make up your mind.
Since you're such an indecisive individual, you start grabbing packs randomly. Salty, spicy chips, some peperos, and even some biscuits for a change. It's now your mission to find those celestial Honey Butter Chips you’d die for, and when you finally spot them, you groan because of fucking course they had to be placed at the top of the shelf and very much impossible for you to reach them.
How cliché is that?
Still, you try, because one can’t let one's pride be wounded, plus, you’re way too introverted to ask for help anyway. Standing on tiptoes with one arm holding the rest of the snacks, you stretch out your free limb and try to, at least, make one of the damned bags fall to the floor. You don't make it, though. The tips of your fingers barely graze against the bag.
“Need some help?”
The man's voice makes you freeze on the spot. Brain malfunctioning as soon as you feel his breath on your neck. His huge hand reaches for the chips, all of this in seemingly slow motion. You stay there, paralyzed and with your eyes glued to him.
Stepping back, he holds the bag of chips in front of him, wiggling it. His lips curl up sweetly.
“I got you.” 
It's automatic, the way you start detailing every single feature of that gorgeous face. The smoothness and melanin of his skin, the roundness of his lips, and the intense but glowing irises of his dark eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this pretty in your life.
He snaps you back into reality once he tilts his head, noticing you’ve been staring for too long. You mentally slap yourself, cheeks red in embarrassment at the possibility of making him uncomfortable. The only solution seems to be clearing your throat and looking away.
“Thanks, Shua.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, hand placing the item inside the cart and starting to move again, “You should’ve asked me, though, I was right there.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it myself.” This is your insecurity speaking, or the first cheap excuse you have now decided to throw. Whatever suits best the situation.
Joshua can only laugh at that, moving his hand to place it on top of your head. You turn your gaze in his direction, like a deer in headlights as he smiles at you, leaning against the handle on his elbow.
“I know you can.” He coos, caressing the top of your head and sending sparks throughout your body. “Just let yourself be pampered today.”
A smile creeps up your face, finding it hard to look away but doing it anyway. The two of you start walking around the store, and somehow it’s like you two are partners in crime. Stealing glances and soft smiles, slightly bumping into each other. You feel it then, the way warmth radiates from him and embraces you. It’s not cold whenever he’s around.
Soon, you cross paths with Seungcheol and Jihye again. Make your way to the cashier and be ready to pay for everything to go back to the cabins.
On your way back, you spot an ice rink. There are just a few people skating at this time of the day. Your eyes light up instantly.
“Woah, I didn’t know there was one of these in here.” You mumble, your three companions standing next to you.
“Oh! That’s a popular spot for families and tourists to have fun. We love to bring our friends sometimes.” It's Jihye's voice that follows, explaining as you smile at the sight of some children having fun in their ice skates.
“I can imagine, it looks so fun.”
You're having a moment with your inner child. There will be time later to get to the point of embarrassment. That, of course, if you don't notice the way Joshua looks at you ever so fondly.
“Wanna skate for a bit?”
Unexpected. That's what Joshua's question is. You're looking back at him, tilting your head.
“I would, but there are things to set for tonight.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Seungcheol assures then, smiling at you. “It’s your birthday, we will take care of everything. You can stay here and have fun.”
His words bring an instant grin to your face.
“Really? Should I?”
“Of course! It’s on the house!” 
Oh, sweet Jihye.
“Oh no no, I can pay for it, you don’t have to!”
She shakes her head dismissively.
“That’s alright! The owners are family friends. Take it as a birthday gift.”
How can you not smile at her kindness?
“Thank you.”
“Alright let me grab these,” Cheol speaks, snatching the bags you’ve been holding. “Shua, take care of her and all of that.”
“Of course.”
Joshua looks at you then, a sweet and comforting smile being sent in your direction.
“I’ll see you guys in a while!” Then you say, as you wave at them goodbye.
“Alright, let’s get ready.”
Joshua nods his head for you to follow him, and of course, you do.
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You certainly didn’t think this through. All things considered.
It shows the moment you put the skates on. Wobbly legs make their way into the rink. It’s not as easy as you imagined.
“I think this wasn’t a good idea.”
Now you're holding onto the walls for dear life, speaking to yourself, and reconsidering your choices in life. Then, you spot Joshua a few meters away. Skating on the ice as if it were nothing, his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair.
He then turns around in search of you, taking a few seconds to actually find you. As soon as he does, he laughs at the scene of you in the very corner.
He moves closer to you, and you’re so, so embarrassed you want the damn ice to melt and let you drown in it.
“You okay there?”
You want to let out the loudest whine, but you must act your age this time. You can't possibly make more of a fool of yourself in front of the man you like.
“Just peachy.”
You're clawing onto the brick wall, almost counting the seconds until you’re ass planted on the floor.
Joshua's big hand grabs one of your wrists, and you look at him with panic.
“Come on, let’s help you out.”
“Wait wait, I’ll fall, Joshua!” 
There it is. The whine you desperately wanted to hold made it to the surface. It only makes him laugh even more.
“You’re okay, I won’t let you fall.” A bold statement for someone who clearly doesn't know the great amount of clumsiness encased in such a little body. He continues pulling you away from the wall and holding onto your hands. “Just relax, yeah?”
He starts skating backward slowly. You don't know how he manages to be so relaxed as you cut the circulation from his fingers. But it'll have to do.
“This was such a bad idea, I’m so embarrassed.”
He starts loosening the grip on your hands. Realization hits you instantly, eyes flying open as he distances himself from you.
"Don't you fucking dare, Hong Jisoo! Come back here!"
Chuckle after chuckle. Seems like you're his main source of comedy today.
“You can do it.”
“Joshua Hong, you better come and hold my fucking hands.”
It's a threat, but he doesn't see it as such, even with your gritted teeth. He only looks down at you, clearly amused.
“Come on, you’ll be fine. It's not that bad, is it?"
“Why are you doing this to me? My mistake was thinking you'd be better than Yoon Jeonghan but I was clearly wrong. I swear to god you’ll pay the hospital bills when my bones break, and I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life, cause how can you do this shit to me, Jisoo. I absolutely despise the sh-”
“Stop ranting and look at yourself.” 
And you do. With a chuckle, you slowly and clumsily move your legs.
“Oh, would you look at that? I’m actually doing it.” You laugh, looking up at him. The fondness in his eyes sends butterflies to your stomach.
He comes closer then, and grabs your hands once again.
“Let’s move a little faster.” 
"Let's fucking not!"
He doesn’t even let you oppose before he’s moving quicker. You want to kill him for a moment, but then you're actually having fun, laughing together, very romantic.
Until you trip.
Thankfully, he’s quick to pull you onto him and wrap an arm around your waist to stop your fall.
Bodies pressing together, your hands placed against his chest, looking into his eyes.
“You okay?” He whispers, so close to your face you can actually see his condensed breath. 
You only nod, and for some reason, the two of you stay like this for a few seconds. Looking at each other, his eyes traveling between your eyes and down to your lips. 
You could swear he’s leaning in, maybe wishful thinking or whatever, but you can almost taste his lips.
But then he clears his throat and helps you stand straight.
“That was close.” He says with a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry if it was too much.”
Yeah, you're being delusional.
“No, it’s okay. It was fun.”
“Uh, well... It’s getting dark.” He continues, looking up at the sky, then looking back at you. “Should we head back?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He makes sure to help you get safely to the exit. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to go back to the cabins, that are sadly way too close to the rink… One hour alone with him wasn’t enough.
When you arrive, it saddens you to think that the special moment you shared with him is now over. Still, you wonder if what happened between you two back in the rink was really your imagination.
Your friends run to you as soon as they notice your arrival. They promise everything’s ready and all you need to do is get dressed and enjoy the party.
With a smile, you go back to your room and start getting ready.
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Later at night, everyone is already gathered outside. The boys whistle at you teasingly when you get out of your cabin, gaining a roll of your eyes in response.
“Stop it, you perverts.” 
“Lookin’ like a snack”
That's Soonyoung, now placing an arm around your neck with a proud grin. You quirk a brow, looking up at his face.
“What does that even mean?”
“He means you look hot,” Chan says, butting in.
“Ew,” Joking, you push Soonyoung away. He looks at you confused, so you laugh. “Just kidding.”
“You are a mean woman.” He exclaims in his usual dramatism.
Seokmin then comes and puts his arm around Soonyoung.
“I’ll take him. He’s a bit drunk.” With a wink, he starts pulling Soonyoung away, as he mutters “I’m not drunk!”
Chuckling, your eyes search for Joshua, who’s distracted and enrolled in a conversation with Minghao and Wonwoo. Your smile slightly falters, because somehow, you wish he had complimented you, too.
Chan then walks to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. You look at him in confusion, and he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“So, how does it feel to be a noona?”
You snort.
“I’ve always been a noona to you.”
“You’re right. Didn’t know what to say, sorry.”
With another roll of your eyes, you push him away. The two of you laugh until you spot Jeonghan a moment later, and join him at one of the picnic tables.
Fresh steak is being grilled by Mingyu, music is being played by Vernon, and the rest are either drinking or sitting and having a chat. The two girls arrive not long after, shy at first but soon engaging easily in the conversation. You learn that they study online, Jihye is majoring in arts while Jangmi went into fashion design. Their parents have been renting cabins for years, and they plan to continue doing so when they are gone.
Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you stand up from the picnic table to go for another beer, teeth clacking due to the freezing air. You get inside and grab an unopened can, switching it open and taking a swig. A grimace appears on your face at the cheap taste before turning around and going back outside.
You had planned to go back to the table, but your plans change when someone tugs at your wrist and stops you. You turn around and almost collide with Minghao’s figure. He grins.
“You look bored. Wanna dance?”
You smile.
“Sure.”
And that’s how it starts to get really fun, with the two of you dancing before at least another five of the boys join to dance along. It goes that way for a good part of the night, and admittedly, you don’t think you’ve had so much fun before.
These men’s antics are way too hilarious, as they keep clowning themselves without a care in the world despite the cold. That's when you decide it's time to go and grab Jihye and Jangmi by the hands, pulling them with you to join and dance, and they do, having fun when they feel comfortable enough.
You even see Joshua dancing along.
All of you dance until your limbs are exhausted, soon forcing you to excuse yourself. You grab another can of beer, this time deciding to take some fresh air on your own. Walking around until you find a nice spot on a little hill a few steps away, a bit quieter. 
You sit on the grass, knees pushed up and arms hugging them to keep yourself warm. You have a nice view of the city illuminated with different colored lights, something unexpected since all you’ve seen so far is haze.
Taking another swig of your drink, you let the cold wind touch your face. Everything is peaceful and quiet at the moment. Except for your mind.
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you see the time being three in the morning. No wonder you suddenly feel so raw and vulnerable. 
Yearning that someone’s company so much is making your chest feel tight, and perhaps, your feelings aren’t just a simple crush at all.
A check on your social media shows the boys’ posts. There he is, with that beautiful smile of his that could light the whole town. Your heart flutters as you continue looking at his picture for who knows how long. A smile forms on your face, fingers grazing the shape of his face.
Then you hear someone’s footsteps approaching against the grass, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s right after. A subtle smile on his face when he sits right next to you.
“Hey, why aren’t you at your own party?”
You shrug.
“I just wanted to be alone for a while and think.”
Jihoon hums with a smile, looking ahead.
“Sounds dangerous.”
A small giggle leaves your lips. It's silent, only the breeze can be heard as you collect your thoughts.
“Jihoon,”
“Yeah?”
You crane your neck to look at him.
“Why do I always feel like I want to let my feelings out at this hour?
He thinks about it, leaning back against his palms.
“Well, you know what they say. Everyone turns into their most vulnerable self in the middle of the night. It’s often the time when I get the inspiration to compose.”
“I’m starting to understand what it truly means.” You confess with a nod. “It’s like I’m being overwhelmed with emotions, and I just wish I could lift them off my shoulders.”
Jihoon sits up straight and places his hand on yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze that you appreciate.
“If you feel the urge to let them out, maybe they don’t need to stay hidden.”
“But... It could have consequences.”
He retracts his hand and sighs.
“Yeah, but every decision has a result. Anything you do or say might lead to something, you can choose to find out what it is, or keep it bottled up and let it slowly consume you.”
You process his words carefully, smiling afterward.
“No wonder you’re so great at writing songs.”
“Had to find a productive way to let everything out.” He explains with a chuckle. “Wanna head back?”
“Yeah, I’ll reach you in a minute.”
Jihoon nods and stands up, walking back to where his friends are.
Grabbing your phone once again, fingers scroll through your contacts until you find his number and open the conversation.
There. Consider the possibilities. It’s the middle of the night. you know you can’t trust yourself at this hour, but somehow you’d rather get it off your chest now that you're feeling brave.
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That’s it. You’ve opened the gates to let your feelings escape. You hope it’s really worth it.
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You're still starting to feel the relief of lifting that weight off your shoulders, but also the uncertainty still managing to shoot a sprinkle of insecurity straight to your brain.
Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you feel nauseous and your heart is heavy. You fucked up. You know you did.
Sighing, you rest your forehead against your forearms. Your eyes flutter shut as you desperately try to stabilize your breathing. The knot in your stomach becomes painful, your throat tight enough to make your airways feel constricted.
Then, it's time to stand up. You’re not really sure how you’re gonna face Joshua, or the rest of the boys, for that matter. Not now that you decided it was a good idea to confess your feelings through a text message.
However, you stop in your tracks the moment you see Joshua. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs as he silently approaches.
Locks of hair subtly blow in the wind, the moonlight makes his skin glow oh, so gracefully, and his pupils are surely putting the stars at shame. His lips are slightly agape, subtle clouds of fog escaping from his mouth, erratic breathing hinting how he must’ve hurried to come and find you.
It's an urge for you to say anything, but your brain can’t even formulate coherent sentences.
“Josh-”
An arm of his wraps around your waist, pulling you against him before his lips are enclosing yours in a kiss, interrupting whatever excuse you were planning on using.
Eyes flutter close instantly, hands clasping around his wrists. The kiss is soft, sweet, and too short for your liking. He barely pulls back, lips still inches away from yours, noses brushing when he says: 
“I do like you.”
Joshua's thumb runs over your lower lip, staring down at you with half-lidded dark eyes. His smile appears right after, bright and contagious, a breathy chuckle falling from his mouth. You smile back, hands moving up to find purchase at the sides of his neck.
“Do you?”
Dumb question, but you can’t help but ask it.
“Yeah.” He promptly responds, pressing another chaste kiss against your mouth. “So much.”
“Lucky me.”
You're now the one who chuckles, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.
Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the way it feels to have his lips on yours. He's unsurprisingly a very skilled kisser. Knowing perfectly well how to move his lips slowly and delicious, the liplock accompanied by soft nips, sucks, and rhythmic movements against the other’s mouth. He tilts his head and pulls you further against his mouth, hands cupping your jaw. Your head spins in pure ecstasy.
The kiss breaks slowly, still in a daze when you detail the way his lips have turned red and swollen. His thumbs gently rub the skin of your cheeks, and it feels like you're about to vomit a whole zoo. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body and embracing you tightly.
You bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You embrace all of him and his sweet scent, letting your eyes close and humming contently as your fingers curl on the fabric of his coat.
“How are we going to explain this?”
“We don’t need to.” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Seems everyone knew what was going on, except me.”
That certainly makes you laugh, cause you've been way too obvious all along.
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Tell me about it.” He agrees, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Wanna go back?”
He extends his hand palm up. You look down at it before intertwining your fingers, a smile on your face.
As soon as you arrive, the teasing begins.
“Took you both long enough!”
Seems like you ended up being the center of attention for a very different reason. Your cheeks burn as Joshua releases your hand and grabs your wrist instead, moving you to stand next to him, then placing his arm around your waist.
He's the one who decides to retort first.
“Yeah yeah, drop it already.”
“I was almost going to confess in her name at this point.” Jeonghan jokes, approaching the two of you.
“Still bitter you didn’t tell me shit,” Joshua confesses, your best friend shakes his hand and gives him a quick, brotherly hug.
“I could’ve, but she would’ve whined about it for years.”
A glare shoots in his direction straight from your eyes, smacking his chest, which makes him laugh.
“Who would’ve thought you can actually keep a secret?”
“Don’t test your luck, I still know plenty of things your new boyfriend would love to know.”
Joshua looks at you with a quirked brow, but you’re quick to grab his hand and start pulling him away.
“Anyway who wants to dance?!”
Joshua looks between you and Jeonghan, who's being left behind. He's clearly intrigued by the situation but follows you nonetheless.
You’ll remember to invite Jihoon to grab some food later.
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It's way past five when you're in your bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone must be either passed out somewhere or getting ready for bed since the sun will be rising soon.
There’s only one thing on your mind now that you’re back in your room.
You grab your phone and unlock it, looking for the conversation you started a few hours ago. Fingers typing almost on autopilot, hoping he’s still awake.
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Excitement fills your body when you place your phone back on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long until you hear a soft knock on the door.
“Come in!”
You soon see his face, his hand running through his slightly messy hair. Wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top that lets you admire his bare, toned biceps. Teeth sinking in your lip in anticipation, no one could ever look this good.
Scooting, you make room for him on your bed, lifting the covers so he can slide in. As soon as he does, you’re both face to face. It's so charming that even in his tired state, he smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips.
Burying your face in his neck and playing with the hairs at the back of his head, he hums, letting you know he appreciates the gesture before his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you even more into his.
“Hmm, you smell nice.” You admit, a breathy chuckle escaping from his mouth and making his chest vibrate against you.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
The sudden pet name sends a wave of sparks through your body, not to mention the arousal of knowing he’s using a pet name just for you.
“I could get used to you calling me nice things.”
Joshua pulls back to look into your eyes once again, a light smirk now forming on his lips.
“Yeah?”
Big hand lifts and runs its fingers through your hair.
“Yeah.”
The two of you stay quiet for a moment, but his eyes never leave yours. Smile slowly vanishing the more the tension in the room arises. His soft touches start to become bold, with a hand running from your neck to your shoulder, and from your shoulder down your arm.
“Your skin is so warm, so soft.” It's a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves from your arm to your waist, gently pushing up the hem of your shirt and letting his hand travel through your curves.
His touch makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.
“I like it when you touch me.”
“Hmm. You shouldn’t say that to me.” He whispers, mouth ghosting over yours as his hand travels upwards, finding your ribs. “I don’t think I can hold back.”
“Then don’t.” 
His gaze darkens at your words, glued to yours in the barely illuminated room. Your body is now craving him, yearning for his touch after dreaming about him for so long.
Joshua then makes the next move, propping on his elbow, his upper half hovering over you. 
You look up at him when his hand comes in contact with your cheek. His beauty is immaculate under the moonlight peeking through the windows. There's so much want being shared. The sight of him on you is so alluring it’ll be engraved in your memory for the rest of your life.
The necklace hanging from his neck looks so tempting, makes you want to curl your fingers around it just to pull him in and succumb to your true desires.
“Then remember that you asked for it.” He speaks again. “I’m going to worship every inch of your skin and kiss at every corner the way I want, give you whatever you wish while making you mine.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He drags his fingers down your skin, eyes shifting from yours to down your lips.
“Fuck.”
Before anything else can be said, he leans in and kisses you. His kiss once again takes over all your senses. So slow, open-mouthed, and passionate. Your hands fly to the back of his head to tangle in his soft locks, kissing him in a way he could feel how much you’ve wanted to have him.
His thigh spreads your legs to position himself between them more comfortably. His big hands roam down your neck, shoulders, and waist, making sure that his fingers dance along every single inch of your skin, setting it aflame.
You nip at his lip, tugging gently and making him groan. The tip of your tongue teases the area before he lets his own dive into your mouth to press, roll, and play.
Both can feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, the heat and the need are unbearable. You're clenching around nothing, an effect only his kiss has caused. Pathetic, but real.
Joshua's mouth starts traveling from the corner of your lips, to your jaw and down your neck. You bite your lip again, trying not to whimper and melt into a piddle. Tilting your head back to give him more access, the heaviness in your breath is enough to agitate him, and soon you feel the hard tent in his sweatpants pressing against your thigh.
A lift of your hips and a slight grind are enough to make him curse under his breath as his fingers claw onto your waist.
“Fuck.” He grunts before his tongue gently laps at the exposed column of your neck. You scrap at his scalp, tugging on his hair before grinding on him again. His kiss travels upwards, finding your ear and nibbling on the lobe, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispers, voice hoarse and lust-filled.
“Please, Joshua.” You can't help but beg, beg for him to give you more, pressing yourself against him as much as possible. “I need you.”
“I got you, baby. Let’s take your clothes off, yeah?”
He pulls back and slides his fingers under your shirt, lifting it and pulling it over your head before throwing it somewhere in the room.
His eyes get even more hooded at the sight of your bare breasts, pupils dilating as his hands start running down your bare torso, slowly, smoothly, the touch burning your skin. His palms enclose your chest, kneading gently, his thumbs run over the perked nipples, rolling them between his digits. You moan at the action, hands clasping around his biceps and nails clawing on his skin. He bites his lip as he watches every reaction of yours, finally lowering his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.
A whimper falls from your mouth the moment his tongue starts playing with your sensitive buds. He looks up, not wanting to miss any expression of yours as he continues to suck, lick, and suck again.
“Fuck, Shua, that feels so good.”
He hums, moving to the neglected breast and repeating the process. His free hand runs down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your panties. Long middle finger soon sliding between your folds, pressing on the wet button and making you choke on a moan.
“So wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He teases, pulling away from your nipple and smirking at you. His fingers start rubbing up and down, face hovering over yours, staring intently. He pushes two of his fingers into your hole, and your back arches against his chest.
His lips keep that smirk on, nodding at you while you moan. “That’s it. Feels good, yeah?”
You bite your lip and manage to nod.
Joshua starts pumping his fingers faster, moving his body from over you to get rid of your pants and your panties by dragging them down your legs. All of this without stopping with his ministrations.
There you are, in all your naked glory in front of him, so exposed and vulnerable, but not feeling scared because the way he looks at you is enough to make you feel so wanted.
“So pretty, all for me.” He leans down and grazes his lips against the skin of your tummy. Curling up his fingers, he grazes the perfect spot that makes you moan even louder. Eyes fixated on you with a quirked brow, followed by a breathy laugh. “If you keep being so loud, everyone’s gonna know how good you are at taking fingers, huh?”
You're really trying here, but you can't keep quiet. His teasing words only turn you on even more and make you clench around his digits, feeling your climax approaching at a rapid speed.
“Sorry.” You croak. “It feels so good.”
“I can tell, you’re clenching tightly. How are you going to take my cock?”
He seems to love teasing, as he places kisses on your thighs. Who would've thought? He's apparently not the same gentleman in bed, and you love it.
“I can do it. I will do it.”
Joshua stares at you with both pride and amusement. It’s almost enough to hide the fact that his dick is hard as a rock, but since he’s not trying to hide it, you promptly watch as his free hand moves to palm himself over his clothes.
“Then come for me, so we can make it happen.”
You should probably be more obedient, but you're so desperate you move your hands to the hem of his shirt to lift it up slightly and he quickly takes it off with a chuckle. The sight is hypnotizing, muscles divinely built for your hands to touch, smooth skin screaming to be kissed, and your mouth is watering.
Extending your hand, you run it over his torso, fingers dancing across his abs and chest as he sits on his ankles. The tight knot on your stomach soon releases with the sight of the naked man in front of you, and you reach your climax with chants of his name. Your back arching, legs shaking.
“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises, helping you ride out of your peak.
While you try to catch your breath, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips to lick them clean. You almost whimper again, 'cause how can someone like him, so sweet and gentlemanly, be so dirty and hot.
Your hands fly to the back of his neck and pull him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands run down the soft skin of his back.
He breaks the kiss to look at you, panting, clearly way too aroused to keep holding back, so he pulls back and gets rid of his pants and boxers. There you see him, standing free and hard, pink at the head and leaking with arousal. You can’t hold back the wish to touch him, hand flying to wrap around his shaft to pump his length.
He lets out the prettiest moan you could’ve heard, which impulses you to apply more pressure on his shaft. Sitting up, your lips wrap around the head of his cock, gentle sucks and twirls of your tongue sending him into a frenzy. You tug up and down, pointed tongue running over the leaking slit, the salty precum filling your tastebuds.
Joshua looks down at you, ragged breath as he places his gentle hand on the back of your head. You lick a stripe of his length from the base to the head, looking up at him and pressing your thighs together in search of some relief when you witness the blissful expression on his face. Pushing his length further down your throat, you almost choke in hopes to hear more of his luscious sounds.
He's quick to pull you away from him, and you frown. He kisses your lips, licking on your tongue and making you moan against his mouth before he pulls back.
"Love that you're so eager to suck my cock, baby, but if I let you continue, I won't last."
What a filthy fucking mouth he has.
“Fuck, Shua. Please baby, please take me already.”
Joshua bites his already swollen lip, moving your hand away from his length to wrap it in his own and place it at your entrance.
“You ready?”
He starts slowly pushing himself into you as soon as you nod. The tightness of your clamping walls makes him choke a moan of his own, as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You take advantage of the moment to start placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder. 
Soon he starts to move his hips, making your head spin with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cling onto his body, wrapping your legs around his waist to press him further into you as soon as he bottoms out. Joshua supports his body with one of his arms beside your head, the free one holding onto your waist as his pace starts quickening.
“Shit, so tight.” He moans, snapping his hips against yours and hitting all the right spots. Truthfully, you could cream again by just hearing the sounds he's making. “You were made for me, to take my cock.” He adds, jaw tightening as he moves his hand to interlace his fingers with yours.
“So good, so big.” You cry out. “I’ve belonged to you since the day I saw you.”
He's leaning down after a breathy curse, kissing you again, a bit sloppier, tongues playing as his hips continue speeding up.
You hope in the back of your mind that no one can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, however, you’re far too gone to really care.
“If I had known sooner…” He grunts, hand sliding down to find your clit to rub on it with the pads of his fingers. You scratch his back as he continues. “All this time pining over you but thinking you were not really interested.” He confesses, a particular thrust of his hips making you cry out again. “I deserve all the teasing.”
“Fuck, Joshua, I’m so close.” It's a whole trail of whimpers and moans that you let out between each sentence, pressing his sweaty body against yours. “Been harboring these feelings for so long, Joshua, fuck.”
You’re soon grabbed by the waist and flipped over to straddle him. His head against the headrest and hands on your hips. 
“Ride me like that. Shit.” He orders in between moans, biting his lip as his hand roams up and down your back. “I wanna be in so deep.”
You roll your hips, bouncing every now and then as your hands find leverage on his strong and broad shoulders.
"Oh my fucking God.”
“Cum baby, and milk me dry. Show me how much you mean it.” He demands through gritted teeth, rubbing again on your clit. “How much you’ve wanted me all this time.”
And as if it was a magic spell, you come undone around him, legs shaking and back arching. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood, but you don’t care. 
Your walls clench around him hard enough for him to cum right after you with a throaty groan. His hot seed spills inside you in thick spurts, painting your walls white. A few more sloppy thrusts and you’re soon collapsing onto his clammy chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.
Joshua's strong arms wrap around you, soft caresses on your back as you remain connected for a while.
When the two of you manage to regain your composure, he pulls out of you and helps you lay on your back, turning around to look into your eyes. He looks at you silently, full of adoration at your flushed face.
"What is it?"
He shakes his head, smile remaining on his face.
"Just admiring."
A light snort escapes from you, not an offensive one, and he knows. He's well aware of your shyness, of the pink on your cheeks.
"Admiring? Me?" You chuckle, but admittedly flattered. "Have you seen yourself?"
His perfectly shaped brow quirks at that, before he quickly glances down at himself.
"Yes. You. Actually, I see myself every day in the mirror."
Clicking your tongue, you turn to your side, meeting his gaze.
"I mean..." You trail off. "I know to you it's nothing, but like, you're so so good looking. Like, incredibly so. And I'm not saying this because you're now my boyfriend or because I'm biased, I just genuinely think that if there was a human form for perfection, it'll look like-"
"I love you."
You stop ranting, looking up at him. He's just smiling, and you don't think someone has ever looked at you this way. With so much love.
"What?"
He chuckles, big hands moving to cup your cheeks.
"I said I love you."
You could cry. You think you might, and perhaps, you're actually tearing up, but it's well hidden by the grin on your face, same grin he starts kissing right after.
"I love you, too." You finally say in between kisses.
Once the kiss breaks, It's hard for you to keep your eyes open, but you try your best to look at his post-climax glory.
“That was intense, by the way. And the four letter word at the end? The cherry on top.”
Joshua smiles, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Just wait until we wake up in a couple of hours.”
Cheeks heating up instantly, you start laughing.
He leans down and kisses you one more time, much more slowly, then pulls back, placing a small peck on your forehead, then standing up from the bed.
You watch as he puts his sweats and boxers back on. Wrapping the sheets around your body as he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He doesn’t need to turn the lights on, considering that the sun is already up. He smiles at you and gently cleans you up, sharing a few kisses before he helps you dress again. A protest is what he receives, too tired to move, however, he just chuckles.
“Come on, love. It’s freezing cold. Let me dress you up so we can sleep, yeah?”
With a groan, you end up sitting up and letting him help you. Soon after that, you’re both falling asleep together on your bed.
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“Okay, this was definitely a memorable experience.” Seokmin says, as everyone gets the luggage into the vans.
“It was fun!” Soonyoung agrees, placing his arm around Vernon’s shoulder.
“Well, except for Joshua hyung giving it to our favorite girl til early in the fucking morning.”
You smack Seungkwan across the head and he rubs the sore spot.
“Shut the fuck up. You heard nothing.”
“At least someone was getting laid,” Mingyu adds.
“Are we ready to leave? I really don’t feel like discussing someone’s sexual escapades this early in the morning.”
Of course, it'll be the dad of the group cutting the shit out.
You bid the two girls goodbye, promising to keep in contact and visit soon. thanking them for everything they did.
When everyone’s already inside their vans, you wave at the girls and go back to your seat. Fastening your seatbelt, you look at Jeonghan, who looks back at you with a smirk.
When he least expects it, you place a smooch on his cheek.
Taken aback, his hand moves to touch the place where the kiss landed.
“What was that for?”
You just shrug. “You’re my best friend and I love you.”
Jeonghan can only roll his eyes.
“I was going to tease you for getting some, but that was actually sweet.”
You respond with a chuckle, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together.
“Of course you would, bestie.”
You soon meet eyes with Joshua, who smiles before grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing on the back of it. 
Then, Jeonghan suddenly grabs your face and places a loud smooch on your cheek, making you gasp and laugh out loud, disbelief written on your face.
“Just to remind Joshua he has to share. Don’t expect this gesture to happen very often, though.”
You laugh and rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, still holding both of your favorite boys’ hands.
2K notes · View notes
tswhiisftteedr · 2 months
Note
Carmilla x reader NSFW? Specifically, eating out after a long day at work. The two going a few rounds from the pent-up stress?
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I’m pissed, please take care of me ☆ One shot
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☆ Employer!Carmilla Carmine x Employee!Fem!Reader:
After a shitty day at work, you and your boss who is simultaneously your girlfriend, decide to let the days stress go by ‘working out’ your frustrations.
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise kink, Oral Sex(Both Female Parties Receiving), Bad Spanish, NOT PROOFREAD.
Words: 2549
Note: So this a combination of 3 requests, sorry @hyenalover2630 if you don’t like this cuz that’s not what you asked for, I did a one shot instead of headcannon so sorry agin but I though rounding up similar requests would be a smart move. Also this one shot is a bit on the shorter side so that’s that.
Author Note: Soooo, I’m back from the dead, 38 request in my inbox, 15 of them being just Adam requests lol.
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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Finding yourself in hell was more than just a lousy situation—it was a downright nightmare. Amidst the chaos, the moral decay, and the ridiculous housing prices, you were desperate for any job that could keep you afloat. You applied everywhere, except under Valentino; you wanted no part of that mess.
So, it wasn't surprising when you ended up as a grunt in the marketing department at Carmine Inc. But you were a hustler, always quick, efficient, and responsible. Your work ethic didn't go unnoticed, especially by the big boss herself.
You couldn't help but admire her in many ways. She was a badass, running a successful business with an iron fist, yet she had a sense of fairness. And let's not forget, she was easy on the eyes, which only fueled your crush.
After a meeting she personally set up, you scored a promotion to be her personal assistant. But even with the big leap, you didn't slack off. Your efficiency was still on point, and Carmilla appreciated it.
As your role in the company evolved, so did your connection with Carmilla. It all started with those little touches—a hand on your shoulder here, a pat on the head there—that seemed innocent enough at first.
But soon, those gestures became more frequent and intimate, like her guiding hand on your waist or the way she'd ask you to stick around after hours for a chat and a drink.
The formalities started to fade away, with Carmilla calling by your first name and encouraging you to do the same, replacing your usual ‘Mme. Carmine’ by the overlords name. It was like she was inviting you into her inner circle, blurring the lines between boss and friend.
As the months passed and you continued to excel in your role as her assistant, Carmilla couldn't help but notice a shift in her feelings toward you. Your hard work and dedication were undeniable, but it was more than that. She found herself drawn to you in a way she hadn't expected. Plus, the fact that you were a beautiful woman did help in growing her attraction for you.
It became increasingly obvious to Carmilla that you harbored feelings for her as well. Your nervousness whenever she was around spoke volumes, manifesting in stutters and how you would visibly warm up whenever her gaze met yours. It was a telltale sign of the attraction brewing beneath the surface.
Furthermore, she couldn't ignore your subtle cues for validation and compliments. You seemed to thrive on her words of affirmation, going above and beyond in your tasks just to earn a simple ‘great job’ or ‘I'm proud of you, Y/N’ from her lips. ‘And who could blame you? With Carmilla being the hot Hispanic woman she was, who wouldn't want her singing their praises?’
After two months of silently pining for each other, where Carmilla was keenly aware of your feelings while you remained oblivious to hers, she decided it was time to break the stalemate. She orchestrated a meeting after hours, summoning you to her office to address the unspoken tension between you.
As you sat down, she wasted no time in getting to the point. With a mix of nerves and determination, she confessed her own feelings, revealing that she had long known about yours as well. It was a moment of vulnerability for both of you, but also a turning point.
The conversation didn't end there. Carmilla proposed taking a chance on each other, suggesting that you go on a date that weekend to explore the potential of your connection further. You agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at what lay ahead.
The subsequent dates were nothing short of magical, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and shared moments of intimacy. With each passing day, your bond grew stronger, and it became increasingly evident that what you shared was more than just a fleeting attraction.
By the fifth date, it was abundantly clear to both of you that you wanted to take things to the next level. Over a candlelit dinner, you shared your hopes and dreams, expressing your desire to make things official. And as you toasted to your newfound love, you knew in your heart that you had found something special amidst the chaos of your workplace.
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Despite the enchanting aura that surrounded your relationship with Carmilla that usual had you on cloud nine, today proved to be shitty day nevertheless.
First, there was the debacle with the rogue shipment. Some brainless thugs decided to mess with a Carmine truck, oblivious to the glaring logo emblazoned on its side. Needless to say, they met their demise, but not before causing a heap of trouble.
Then came the catastrophe with the catalog files—a rookie managed to obliterate an entire folder of vital content. The painstaking recovery process left you on edge, uncertain if the files would return unscathed or corrupted.
And if that wasn't enough, that blasted Vox bastard had the audacity to cancel yet another meeting with Carmilla, marking the third time in a row. The gall of him, treating her time as if it were disposable. You couldn't stand that attention-seeking-whore man-child with his oversized ego and incessant need for validation.
As the day dragged on, you finally collapsed onto your bed, still fully dressed save for your shoes. Frustration, exhaustion, and pent-up tension weighed heavily on your shoulders. It was a relief when Carmilla entered the room, her expression mirroring your own.
With a sigh of resignation, she joined you on the bed, her presence offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. In that moment, without a word exchanged, you found solace in each other's presence, united in your shared frustration and exhaustion.
Sighing heavily, Carmilla reached for the bottle of beezeljuice resting on the nightstand, taking a generous swig before passing it over to you. You accepted the bottle, mirroring her earlier gesture as you took a deep gulp, relishing in the familiar burn as the liquid slid down your throat. It was a small but comforting ritual, a shared moment of indulgence amidst the chaos of the day.
As the evening steadily slipped away, the weight of your troubles began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through you like wildfire. You found yourselves leaning closer, your bodies pressed together as you sought solace in each other's embrace. Your lips met in a heated kiss, passion exploding between you like a bolt of lightning.
Your tongues danced a fiery tango, exploring every inch of each other's mouths with a fervor that belied your exhaustion. As your hands wandered, exploring the curves of each other's bodies, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of hope. Despite the challenges and tribulations that the afterlife threw at you, you were a force to be reckoned with.
"Acércate, mi amor," Carmilla murmured against my lips, her voice low and sultry as she pulled you closer. "Today has been a living nightmare, but your presence makes everything better. You're the wind beneath my wings, my sweet girl."
Her praise was music to your ears, making your heart flutter and your cheeks flush in delight. To hear her speak such kind words, to know that you brought light into her day was like floating on cloud.
Unable to contain your desire any longer, you broke your kiss, your breaths ragged and hearts pounding in sync. Carmilla's eyes smoldered with hunger as she reached for the buttons of my shirt, skillfully releasing each one until it pooled at my feet. Your undergarments followed suit, leaving you naked and vulnerable in her capable hands.
In turn, you mirrored her actions, slowly peeling away layers of her clothing until she stood before you in nothing but her ballet slippers and stockings. Her skin glowed under the dim light, her statuesque figure an ode to her grace and power. As you gazed upon her, you felt a raw, unbridled hunger stir within you, a primal urge to taste her.
"Mi alma," Carmilla whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Can you be the good girl i know you are, take care me? Will you be a sweetheart and eat me out?."
Without hesitation, you knelt before her, her scent enveloping you as you parted her legs and settled between them. Your fingers traced delicate paths along her calves, sending shivers down her spine.
As you approached her core, Carmilla's fingers threaded through your hair, guiding your head between her legs with an air of completely control that sent shivers down your spine. You reveled in her power over you, knowing that she desired to be in charge, to assert her authority in this moment of vulnerability.
"That's it, mi vida," she purred, her voice a seductive symphony that resonated throughout the room. "Show me how much you love pleasing me."
Your tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive skin at the apex of her thighs, drawing a gasp from her lips. Her hands tightened in your hair, urging you forward as you dove between her legs. The taste of her was divine, almost making your head spin.
Carmilla moaned softly, her thighs clenching as you explored her folds with reverence. Each stroke of your tongue was deliberate, each flick a testament to your devotion. Her groans of pleasure echoed around you, a symphony of lust that only heightened your desire to please her.
“Eso es todo, lo estás haciendo tan bien, fuck! Keep going, my beautiful girl.”
As you delved deeper, your tongue probing the depths of her pussy, Carmilla's moans grew louder, her body arching with each stroke. Her fingers twisted in your hair further, grinding you against her with a firm hand that you hungered for. This display of dominance was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that mirrored her own passion.
"Just like that, mi corazón," she encouraged, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being such a good girl for me.”
Your actions became more fervent, your lips and tongue working in concert to bring her pleasure. Her hips bucked in response, her sighs and gasps filling the room with the soundtrack of our passion. You reviled in her reactions, feeding off her energy as you explored every inch of her tender flesh.
Carmilla's breath hitched, her grip on your hair stronger than ever before as she neared her climax. Her body trembled beneath you, her whispered praises— ‘That’s my girl’, ‘So proud of you, you’re doing such a great job’, ‘I love you so much my beautiful girl’— urging you onward.
As she reached her peak, Carmilla's back arched, her moans filling the room like a thunderous roar, “¡Ya me vengo!”. Her body convulsed, her climax washing over her in waves of ecstasy. You took pride in the role you had played in her release, revelling in her praises as she came down from her high.
Panting, she pulled you upward, her lips claiming yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to the power she held over you and the loved you share. "Great job, my love," she breathed against your lips. "Your tongue truly is a work of art."
Then, without warning, Carmilla reversed your roles. With a swift motion, she pushed you onto your back, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination. Your heart raced as she positioned herself between your legs, her gaze never leaving yours.
"Now, it's your turn," she growled, her voice deep and sensual. "Spread your legs for me, Y/N."
You obeyed without a moment of resistance, your nerves jangling with anticipation as she lowered her head. Her tongue darted out, tracing a path that sent shivers cascading through you.
Each touch was electric, her tongue exploring every inch of your body with a precision that left you breathless. Her absolute control and expertise was entrancing, and you craved more. Your hands gripped the sheets, seeking purchase as she continued her exploration.
With every lick and suck, you grew closer to the edge, your moans mingling with her satisfied hums. It wasn't long before you could bear it no longer, and with a “Go for it, sweet girl”, your body thrashed beneath hers as you climaxed. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak and breathless.
When you finally came down from your high, Carmilla lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Perfect," she purred, her voice a siren's song that enchanted you as if you were a sailor.
As soon as your senses were regained, Carmilla had wasted no time in resuming her ministrations. Her tongue dove back into the folds of my heat, her appetite for pleasure seemingly insatiable. You writhed beneath her, unable to contain the surge of pleasure that coursed through me.
Her fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as she feasted on you with unwavering passion. Your moans filled the room once more, intertwining with her satisfied grunts. The intensity of her attack overwhelmed you, pushing you to the brink once more.
Overstimulated by her persistent attention, you cried out as you climaxed once more, your body shaking with the force of the experience. When you finally came down, panting heavily, Carmilla released you, her eyes shining with victory.
"Now, that's what I call some well spent frustration," she said, her voice still thick with desire yet quite comforting and sweet. "What do you say we take a moment to catch our breath?"
You nodded, your body still trembling from the intensity of the intercourse. As you lay there, your hearts pounding in sync, you couldn't help but marvel at the relationship you shared. Despite you differences, your love had brought you together in a way that felt both natural and exhilarating.
Carmilla's hand traced lazy circles on your stomach, her thumb brushing across your navel as she gazed into your eyes.
The quiet was a welcome relief, but there was something eating at you that you just had to vent about. "Okay, but seriously, that Vox dude is a major asshole, right? I mean, he's practically begging for a meeting and then bails three freaking times in a row. Am I the only one who thinks that TV demon is just a whiny little prick?”
"Mi amor, the beacon of my day and the guiding star of my night—" Carmilla responded emphatically. "I couldn't fucking agree more with you. That guy, and his associates, are just a bunch of overgrown kids with way too much damn power for anyone's good. If it weren't for you and my daughters, I swear to Santa Maria I'd probably have blown my fucking brains out by now dealing with their goddamn irresponsible behavior.”
After Carmilla's passionate outburst, silence descended once again, but it didn't last long. Before you knew it, both of you were erupting into fits of laughter, finding humor in the absurdity of it all.
You both instinctively drew closer, holding each other tighter than before. Despite the shitty day you had endured, there was comfort in each other's embrace.
As you nestled against each other, a thought crossed your mind: ‘maybe karma was real after all.’ If finding reassurance in Carmilla's arms was your reward after such a terrible day, perhaps the universe's scales were fairer than you had previously believed.
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mr-mandalorian · 1 year
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there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.
nikolai lantsov x reader, arranged marriage, angst/comfort, haven’t read to books so this strictly follows season 2
she was promised to the second prince. she didn’t know it at the time, but nikolai was the one to plead his parents to accept the deal. what a scene she caused that day, her father squeezing her arm a little too tight as he presented her to the royal family. she was all polite smiles and curated answers, her beauty undeniable in her satin gown. it was a perfected act, nikolai could only watch in amusement as guards swarmed her. when he reached to greet her with a kiss on her hand, she slashed at him with a hidden blade.
from that moment on, he knew that she would always be the woman to hold his heart.
and she hated herself for harboring similar feelings. she was an only daughter, an asset her father was sure to exploit. the last thing she expected was to find a kind man by her side, one who shared the same distaste for arranged union. when nikolai was preparing for sea, he didn’t ask for her to follow him. she was free to do as she pleased, and yet she chose to go after him.
and she was proving herself to be a valuable part of the crew. direct yet diplomatic, trusted by all as she unintentionally took the place of second in command. at times when there was a difficult decision to make, she felt crowds of eyes pointed at her instead of their captain. she didn’t mean to overstep, but the prince never dimmed her light.
she watched as the first army bowed to nikolai, the ravkan wind suffocating compared to the salt water breeze. and when no one took notice of the soon to be princess, she stayed silent. she should’ve been pleased, no longer a bride but just an acquaintance of nikolai’s that happened to tag along. and yet somehow it stung, feeling restless and out of place in the spinning wheel.
so when nikolai proposed to alina and turned to her for approval, she could only offer him stunned silence. y/n was no fool, she understood the need for this calculated move. and who was she to deny him? a prince was free to do his own bidding.
“dorogoya, please say something. it’s not like you-“
“right away, my prince.” she wished for the earth to open and swallow her whole, how embarrassing as she fumbled with her pockets, looking for the piece of jewelry that was just another secret out at sea. “you’ll be needing this.”
“you- you had this with you the entire time?” nikolai couldn’t help but grin as she revealed the engagement ring. he understood the weight of it, how she was never given a choice of who got to place it on her finger. and yet, when she was free to get rid of it, she continued to keep it on her person.
“just in case i needed something to trade if you ever got captured by pirates again.” she tried to save grace, ears tinting pink.
“you wound me, moya lyubov. you know i’m too good to let it happen again.”
his charm wasn’t working, y/n not in the mood for pet names without meaning. her eyes found alina and mal on the other side of the room, having their own quarrel about the proposal. she couldn’t help but feel like her and the tracker were the same.
“y/n, listen. i know you never wanted this and now we have a reason to end it. take as much as you need, your father won’t hear a word about it. return to sea, or-“ he cleared his throat, somehow more nervous asking this than her hand in marriage. “or stay as my advisor. it would be foolish of me to let go of your talents.”
hearing these words years ago would’ve had her over the moon. she’d be overjoyed, running through the door without saying goodbye. and yet she found herself unable to move, her breath hitching at his offer. he was giving her a reason to stay.
“i suppose it would be dangerous to leave you without supervision.” she tried her best to look nonchalant, but if a heartrender walked by, surely they’d think she was having a heart attack.
watching sturmhond flirt his way out of tricky situations was one thing, but seeing the way the prince treated his new lyubov was another. it was once y/n that got to intertwine their fingers, got to hear sweet nothings fall from his lips. it was all pretend but she couldn’t help the ugly feeling blooming inside her chest.
“i see changing brides is as easy as changing clothes, brother.” vasily mused after the engagement became public over dinner.
“good riddance to that feral girl you were so obsessed with before, no amount of money attached to her family could make her a worthy princess.” the queen nodded along, eyeing her second son.
alina watched as nikolai flexed his jaw, ignoring his family. instead his eyes were roaming the crowd, searching for someone. and when he found who he was looking for, alina had to bite down a gasp. there was sturmhond’s second in command, the princess that never was.
“y/n, it seems congratulations are in order.” zoya leaned over the the table, a smirk painted on her lips. “you’ve managed to escape a boring, pompous royal life.”
“pardon?” tamar leaned in just as close from the other side, nearly brushing noses with zoya.
“seriously? am i the only one who remembers that y/n was promised to nikolai?” the squaller stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. it should’ve been, but people only cared for saints.
y/n placed a gentle hand on tamar’s shoulder, ordering her friend to back down. instead she raised her glass, deciding the next best thing was to drown her sorrows. and soon she was laughing, her head thrown back like she was back at sea, enjoying a late night drink with her crew. with liquid courage and burning cheeks, she extended her hand to mal. she felt the need to cheer the tracker up.
her vision was becoming difficult as she danced, failing to notice that mal had twirled her into someone else’s arms. it was only when he spoke did she realize the warm hand on the small of her back belonged to her beloved prince.
“i barely get to see you now, moya lyubimaya.”
“don’t call me that.” she exhaled in content, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to the slow song playing.
“it’s never bothered you before.”
“i didn’t care if it was real or not before.” she admitted, the poison in her veins untying her tongue.
“and what if i said it had always been real, moya lyubimaya?”
“i would call you a liar.” she looked up at him, so beautiful with her doe eyes and long lashes. and then she was pulling away, leaving the prince lonely in a room full of people.
there was little time for sulking after that. the spinning wheel fell under attack and y/n was second in command once again. it was like second nature to stand besides nikolai, ordering people around and keeping the situation from spiraling further. when he was mulling over what to do with genya, she threw a warning glance his way. if an advisor he wanted, an advisor he would get.
there was no denying that they were good together. even when it came to facing the darkling and his army of grisha and shadow, y/n never lost her head. that was until the church, until a certain sharp shooting durast trapped them inside with a shadow of the size of two men. that was the only time y/n didn’t think, she just did as she pushed the now king out of the way, shielding him from the monster coming his way.
she couldn’t remember much after, just fragments of conversations and trembling hands trying to glue her back together. the thought of nikolai safe and sound lulled her to sleep.
when she rose, she was met with genya’s wide eyes. she was tending to her wound, the awful gash on y/n’s abdomen requiring everyday tailoring. the grisha smiled then, a genuine smile for the first time in days. she pulled away to reveal the king asleep in a chair next to y/n’s bed.
“wouldn’t leave your side.” genya whispered before walking over to wake him.
it was like he was struck by lightning, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to the woman’s bedside. grasping her hand tightly in his, he thanked the saints with tears in his eyes.
“please, moy tsar, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
“you will send me to an early grave, woman.”
“clearly, it will be the other way around.” she dared to glance down, genya having left her abdomen exposed. it wasn’t pretty, thick dark stitching slicing her belly in half. she nearly jumped out of her skin as the king placed his palm on top of it.
“see this scar?”
he nodded towards his hand, revealing a long pale line trailing through all of his fingers.
“this is where you cut me the day we met. i refuse to get it tailored, to keep as reminder of you everywhere i go.”
“nikolai-“
“i know it was an act of protest, but you had me falling head over heels. from that moment on, i knew you’d be the one for me. my second in command, i would fall apart without you by my side. i had this whole grand gesture planned, to make up for how you were treated before. but i can’t wait a second longer.”
he pulled out the ring y/n had returned him. suddenly it held no weight to it, it was light as a feather sitting on her finger. like it was always meant to be there.
“and what of your pervious engagement?”
“well my advisor was out of commission for a while, so i haven’t really thought it through.” she rolled her eyes at the king’s teasing. but she couldn’t help but allow herself to smile, wiping the smug look off his face with a kiss.
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obae-me · 1 month
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I saw your post about the characters with a traumatized MC and the part about the angels made me start thinking about how they'd handle an MC who has religious trauma (because I thought that was where it was going in your post)
MC avoiding Simeon and Luke because everything related to heaven creeps them out (they're legit scared of angels, god, etc) and feeling way too comfortable living in the devildom and being around demons because they "always knew they were going to end up in hell when they died" because that's what was hammered into their head growing up or something
that would sure change the cast's views on human religion huh?
Yes, absolutely. I can't remember if I mentioned it before or just kept that brainworm tucked safely inside my skull, but I think about this a lot. Namely, because I have SO much religious trauma (yippie!).
I've thought a lot about how the Celestial Realm harbors a lot of the same toxicity that certain organized religions have the tendancy to exhibit here on good ol earth. I mean, we've seen some things in game that suggest that things aren't all rainbows and roses up there. The way that Luke talks early game suggests a lot. And so I'm sure a religiously traumatized MC would have SUCH a hard time around the angels at first. (I actually had my own reservations with the angels when they were first introduced and I even kind of disliked Luke a ton before I eventually took a step back and thought about the fact that he's just a BABY who is just spitting out ideals that were shoved into his head. It's not his fault, and I think his character development is something that the fandom does not address enough. I'm so proud of him!! Having your expectations of the world be broken and then having to relearn everything you thought you knew is actually SO hard.)
MC getting along well or feeling more comfortable with demons because they don't feel like they're being judged or under the watchful eyes of others.
MC talking about "not being as afraid to come back" VERY early on in game and the other characters taking WAY too long to realize they mean come to purgatory after they pass, and the demons themselves don't feel good about knowing that.
MC avoiding certain sins/pleasures/temptations due to the fear that's been embedded in them over it. Even if those things are COMPLETELY normal and harmless to enjoy.
All of the characters being extremely patient and understanding about this sort of thing and very slowly chipping away at certain stigmas they still hold onto, making the human feel safe while they do.
MC avoiding Simeon because of mixed feelings of shame and maybe a bit of resentment and then eventually learning that he's actually such a down to earth and sweet guy and spending more time with him just to learn that he's been in many similar situations is so...so good to think about. Learning that he'll never force certain ideologies onto them, that he doesn't see them as someone who needs to be "saved". A human and an angel sitting together and discussing what being "good" really means. Sharing confessions to each other that they've both held on their backs for such a long time because they've been too ashamed of themselves and confused to heal from it alone. They're not a sinner and a Saint, they're just normal people who make mistakes and want to do good in the world.
I do have many thoughts on this clearly...
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