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muffinpink02 · 2 months

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Leah and Lucy have never got on. An event they both attend brings them a little bit closer. Do they start to see things eye to eye? God I hate summary's.

Chapters 1 of 4 part 2 here

Warnings - Smut, all the good stuff

Lucy is a friendly person, she gets on with most people she meets. She’s easy going, she isn’t an in your face kind of person, she keeps herself to herself. She’s respectful to others, and even if she didn’t agree with something, she would still be able to get along with the person in a friendly manner.

But there was one person Lucy didn’t get on with, and her name is Leah Williamson.

Lucy and Leah’s dislike for each other started a couple years back. The hatred started when they first played against each other in Leah’s first over 21’s game.

The girls had never officially met prior to the game. Though Leah had already heard about Lucy, she was becoming a known name within women’s football. Lucy had a couple years on Leah, and if Leah was honest she was a bit nervous to play against her. She had heard how good she was and how hard she was to get past on the pitch.

It had gone half time and the game was getting to Leah. She had barely touched the ball and when she did, the defender was always hot on her heels. Lucys team was up by 3.

7 minutes into the second half and Leah finally had possession of the ball. She was clear, nobody was in her way. She could see the goal keeper trying to work out where she was going to shoot. She could practically taste the goal, until she felt a strong body next to hers. Lucy was able to get the ball back with no issue, she hardly even touched the blonde. Lucy cleared the ball away, and Leah lost it. She didn’t think about what she was doing. She tackled Lucy, hard. She knew the ball was gone. She could have easily stopped herself, but her anger got the better of her. She went in hard with her right foot, against the defender’s shin.

As soon as she heard the brunette cry out she regretted it. Lucy was rolling on the floor, holding her leg, she could see the pain in her face. She knew it was a stupid thing to do. The ref blew her whistle and held up a red card.

She heard the boo’s from the crowd. She then felt someone shove her, it was Jordan Nobbs. “What are you playing at?” She was in Leah’s face now, pure anger in her voice.

Her own teammates got in-between them. The ref came over and told Leah to leave the pitch. It all happened so fast. She could feel the dread in her stomach. She looked again at the brunette. She saw tears in the defenders eyes, the medics were beside her in seconds.

Lucy had to miss two games because of the injury. And she never got an apology from the girl. Leah was suspended for 3 games.

After the game Leah’s manager didn’t hold back. She told her how stupid it was, how it affects the team, even how she could have ruined the other players life with an injury, and everything else to make her feel bad. Even a few of her team mates made a few comments. Lucy had played with these girls in previous teams so they probably had some kind of friendship with her.

Since then they couldn’t stand each other. For Lucy it was the sheer lack of respect Leah had for her. Leah knew she did wrong that day. The shame of what she did turned into embarrassment, that then turned into anger and resentment towards the defender.

Over the years it always got heated on the pitch when they played against each other. There would be a pull of the shirt here, and stepping on an ankle there. It was a known fact that they couldn’t stand each other. Some people joked that they needed to have it out in the boxing ring.

—————-

“Yeah the green looks good!” Georgia was on Lucy’s phone screen, the girls decided to FaceTime each other to get the approval of what they were wearing for the charity event.

Lucy and many other players had been invited to a charity event in London. It was a charity to help children get into sports all over the world. A lot of big names were going to be at the event, so she wanted to look good. Thankfully some of the England squad were going, it was always easier at these things when you knew a few faces. She messaged Georgia, Ella, Alessia and Keira to see what they were wearing. And that’s how she came to have Georgias face on her phone.

Lucy stood in her floor length mirror, looking at herself. She knew she could rock a suit, but dahm she looked good in this one. “Yeah I think I’ll go with this one.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose and smiled at herself.

She took a few photos and sent them to the group chat with Georgia, Keira, Alessia and Ella. She got responses quickly.

Ella - Yessss Bronze!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥 FITTT

Georgia - 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼 DRIP

Keira - Nice!! 👌 ❤️

Alessia - Love it Lucy!!! You look good 😍😍

Lucy was happy to get the approval from her friends. They also sent their outfits photos, to which they all looked good, and Lucy hyped them up just the same.

A few hours later Lucy was in her home gym. The brunette was working out a sweat on her punch bag. Thats when she got a call from her agent. She pulled off one of her gloves straps with her teeth. She answered it, loud speaker on.

“Hey Lucy! Can you talk? Is it a bad time?”

Lucy breathed hard, wiping the sweat from her four head with her arm. “Hi Lisa, no, all good, I’m just working out. What’s up?”

Lisa sounded weird, like she was excited but there was a slight off tone to it. “Oh, great. Well I was just calling to let you know the organisers at the charity event wants you to announce one of the awards.”

Lucy wasn’t surprised by the request, she was an ambassador for a charity herself.

“Yeah, sounds good. It’s not a long speech is it?”

“No, no. Just a quick award, the usual..”

Lucy could hear there was something else in Lisa voice, she had heard it before when giving Lucy bad news. “What’s wrong Lisa?”

Lisa waited a few seconds before answering. “They want you to present the award with someone.”

Lucy scrunched her face in confusion, why would that be a problem?

“Right, that’s fine? Isn’t that what happens most of the time? Who’s it with?”

Lisa once again fell silent. “….They want you to do the award with Leah Williamson.”

Lucy stopped mid stretch.

“Are you serious? Please tell me you’re joking? Why would they do that?”

Lisa scoffed, “Probably to make it seem like even they can bring two mortal enemies together with the power of charity.” Lucy could hear the sarcasm in Lisa’s voice.

The brunette shut her eyes in frustration and took a deep breath through her nose. “Well I’m just gong to have to do it, I don’t need to talk to the girl.”

Lisa sounded relieved. “Thank god. I’ll tell them you’ll do it. It’ll be fine, you don’t need to be best friends. Anyways, I’ll let you go, I’ll send you more details once I have them.”

Lucy started to fit the boxing glove back to her left hand. “Okay, sounds good. Talk to you later.”

Lisa ended the call. Lucy went back to her boxing bag. At least she’ll have something to focus her anger while boxing now.

2 weeks had passed and tonight was the charity event. Lucy was getting ready in her room. She had gone for light natural make up and was rocking her green suit with a clean white vest top that showed off her abs through the thin fabric and a pair of white Nike air max to finish it off. Her hair in her signature bun.

She was trying not to think about the fact that she was going to have to share the stage with Leah tonight. The last 2 weeks the her teammates had joked about the situation. They even had bets on who would win in a fight, Lucy was more than pissed that 4 of the girls on the team actually picked Leah.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when a text came through.

Alessia - outside x

Lucy had a car picking her up for the event, luckily Alessia lived close by so they were able to go to the event together. Lucy took one more look in her mirror and made her way outside. She was more than relieved to have Alessia with her. She opened the door to see the striker in a beautiful gold dress.

“Hey Luce! Oh my god, you look even better in real life! I love the suit.”

Lucy smiled, she loved it when Alessia hyped her up, it always seemed so genuine.

“Thanks Russo. You look stunning, gold really suits you.”

Alessia smiled at the compliment, she actually seemed shy from the comment. “Thank you Luce. I’m looking forward to tonight, there’s going to be an after party!”

Lucy smiled at her teammate, she loved how enthusiastic she was being, it made her think tonight wasn’t going to be too bad. They chatted all the way to the event, even taking some selfies. They arrived to a sea of photographers, flashing lights everywhere. Lucy would never get used to this part of the job. Photo shoots she could live with, but this was always a whole other world. She was just thankful to have someone with her.

She felt Alessia touch her back. A gentle reminder that she wasn’t alone. They made their way through the sea of flashing lights. They finally caught up with their teammates. They grabbed a sofa area before they could sit at their assigned seats.

Ella was sitting next to Lucy on the sofa, she nudged Lucy with her elbow. Lucy turned to see why Ella was bugging her. She smirked at Lucy and nodded her head to the direction in front of her.

“Eh up, it’s your co-host Bronze. Wow, she looks hot.”

Lucy looked in the direction Ella had nodded to, and she was right. There stood Leah, she was chatting to a TV host Lucy recognised but couldn’t tell you the name of. Lucy screwed up her face at the ‘hot’ comment. “Oi, whose side are you on? You can’t say she’s hot.”

Ella laughed and looked back at the blonde “Na sorry Luce, she does look hot, you have eyes, you can’t say she doesn’t look good.” The other girls had now taken interest in the conversation and looked around to see for themselves.

Keira was first to comment. “Oh yeah, she does look good. I knew she was fit but wow.” Lucy curled up her lip in disbelief. “Erm, sorry did we forget we don’t like her?” A smile crept of her face and the girls and Lucy laughed.

She did take a look at the blonde herself and the girls weren’t wrong, she did look good, Lucy could easily admit that. Leah was wearing a black dress that hugged her at the best bits, a high opening at the top of her thigh, exposing a bit of skin, and gold heels to finish it off. Her hair was down and straight. Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off her.

They were finally able to sit at their assigned seats. All the girls were together, with a few other names on their table. Ella was making small talk about football with Rylan Clarke and Lucy and the others stayed on their phones. They had been to events like this before and they could be a little boring, so no one judged you for having a scroll through your phone.

Lucy had a few glasses of Prosecco to give her some Dutch courage. It’s not like she was shaking in her seat with nerves but it always made it easier having a few bubbles in you, she also wasn’t sure how this was going to go with Leah. They hadn’t even acknowledged each other since they arrived.

Half an hour later a member of staff came to collect Lucy. The girls wished her luck. She was feeling fine, the alcohol was definitely helping, she wasn’t drunk but felt warm and light. She was ushered back stage where she found Leah already waiting. The blonde gave her a tight smile and nod, Lucy returned it. She couldn’t help but notice how good the blonde looked. They had at least 5 minutes before they had to walk on stage. Lucy was listening to the other presenters on stage, trying not to make it anymore awkward than it already was.

“I can’t do it.”

Lucy turned around to a pale looking Leah. She looked like a deer in headlights

“What?”

“I can’t do this, I’m freaking out. God I knew I should have just said no.” Leah was starting to panic, she could feel her hands shaking.

She bent forward hands on her knees the girl looked liked she was about to be sick. Lucy gingerly stepped forward to Leah, she put her hand out to touch Leah’s back but thought better of it.

Leah wanted the floor to swallow her whole, she couldn’t believe she was having a breakdown in front of Lucy. Of all people.

Lucy wasn’t really sure what to do. She didn’t know Leah, she didn’t have the best relationship with the girl. Now she was having a meltdown, moments before they were meant to be on live television. She would be more than happy to go out alone if she needed to.

Leah stood up she looked like she was about to cry. For some reason seeing Leah close to tears stirred something inside of the brunette. She didn’t like the girl but she didn’t want to see her like this either.

Leah could feel her eyes watering, she was in full panic now.

“Leah it’s okay. You can do this, you’ve had bigger audiences than this, this is nothing for you.” Lucy was sure that would be enough.

Leah puffed out her cheeks, a tear falling from her eye. “God, sorry, I can’t believe I’m crying in front of you.” Lucy couldn’t believe Leah was this nervous. Their history was pushed aside for a moment.

Lucy took Leah by the shoulders. Leah was clearly taken aback by the touch and tensed up under Lucy’s hands. “Hey, look, I know this isn’t the easiest of things, I get it. I hated doing things like this before. But you are Leah fucking Williamson, one of the best football players out there, what do you have to be nervous about?”

Leah wiped her eye and chuckled. “Wow, I did not ever expect to hear those words come out of your mouth.” She could feel Lucy’s strong hands on her bare skin. She was close enough to smell her perfume. It smelt like a perfume Leah had of her own. The touch distracted her for a split second from her worries. She also couldn’t believe Lucy had said she thought she was a good football player.

Lucy smiled, she was happy to see she got the girl to laugh, Lucy once again couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful the girl was up close. She felt her tension leave her shoulders.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. Look, if you want I can do all the talking, you can read out the winner? Or you can just come out? I’m easy.” Lucy stepped back, letting go of the blonde.

Leah sniffled and took a deep breath, dabbing the corners of her eyes lightly, trying not to mess up her make up. “Could you maybe do the talking, and we read out the winner together?…If thats okay?” Lucy couldn’t help but notice how weak her voice sounded.

“No, that’s all good with me. Don’t worry you’ll be fine. Just breathe through it.” Lucy gave her a small smile.

Leah gave her a genuine smile back. Before any more could be said a young girl from the stage crew came over, with a headset on. “Hey ladies, okay, your cues will be in front of you on the projector with your names. Make sure to smile and no swearing.” She smiled and ushered them over to the side of the stage. She looked to be listening to someone in her ear. “I have Lucy and Leah now, they are clear to go.” Lucy then heard their names being called out on the speakers by a pre recorded voice, the lady smiled and gestured for them to go on stage.

Lucy started to walk, she could hear the audience clapping. She then felt a hand hook around her arm. Lucy looked around to see Leah attached to her. Leah smiled at her almost pleading her not move her arm away, she clearly needed the support.

Leah didn’t realise she had reached out to Lucy. She needed to feel something close to her, she needed something to ground her. Lucy smiled and carried on walking, she pulled Leah closer to her without thinking twice. As soon as Lucy pulled the girl closer, Leah felt like she could breathe again.

Lucy read out all the script, like she said she would, still feeling Leah attached to her arm. They read out the winner together, still noticing how small Leah’s voice was. They congratulated the winner and walked off the stage, Leah walking close by her side.

Another crew member came over, with a headset on his head. “Well done guys, could you follow me please.” They followed the young boy back stage and back down to the floor. Lucy was first to get to her table, and before she could do or say anything, the boy ushered Leah back to her own table. Leah looked like she was about to say something but was quickly rushed by the crew member.

Lucy stood with her back to the table, she watched Leah go to her own table. She turned to see her teammates were staring at her like she had grown two heads.

“What?…is there something on my face?” Panic set in thinking she had done something embarrassing. She slowly sat down, eyes still on her, but no one was talking.

“What’s wrong? What did I do? Did I say the names wrong?”

Ella spoke first. “What was that about?” She nodded her head towards Leah’s table. Ella smiled. “Are you two best friends now?”

Realisation kicked in. Lucy laughed. How was she going to explain this? She wasn’t going to go into detail about Leah’s meltdown, friends or not she wasn’t someone who would talk about someone else behind their back. “She just needed a bit of help. No big deal.” The girls looked at each other, a few smiles and lost looks on their faces.

Georgia laughed. “Well, you looked good together.” The girls all laughed, Lucy laughed with them.

For a split second the comment had Lucy’s mind wonder to what it would be like to be with Leah in more ways than one.

She was interrupted by her thoughts when Keira jumped in. “You did well up there Lucy.” Keira smiled a genuine smile at her and raised her glass. Alessia was pouring Lucy a new glass to drink. The girls all raised their glasses. “To Lucy!” Shouted Ella. They all cheersed and took a drink from their glasses.

“Awww thanks guys.” The girls went into their own conversations. Lucy looked around the room, spotting a few famous faces she recognised, another part of the job she still hadn’t gotten used to. She turned to the right of her, and caught a pair blue eyes watching her. Leah’s blue eyes.

Leah quickly looked away, trying her hardest to act like she hadn’t just been caught in 4k.

Lucy looked back at her drink, smiling to herself as she took a sip of her Prosecco.

Leah kicked herself internally. She had been watching Lucy for a while, and she knew she should have stoped after the first 5 minutes, but she couldn’t help it. When Leah first saw Lucy tonight, she had to pick her mouth up from the ground. Lucy looked really fucking good in her green suit. Leah could see Lucy’s 6 pack through her fitted white t shirt she could have sworn she dribbled. Then seeing her up close backstage didn’t help, she made her more nervous than she already was.

She felt like she could still feel Lucy’s hands on her shoulders, she made her feel so relaxed, just the touch alone calmed her breathing. Don't get her wrong, she knew Lucy didn’t like her or even looked at her in any other way than an enemy. But Leah could still appreciate a good looking woman when she saw one, and she thought that every time she had the pleasure of seeing Lucy. On or off the pitch.

The awards finished and the girls made their way to the after party all in one car. It wasn’t far from the first event. They pulled up to a bar that had a night club underground. They jumped out of the car and were escorted straight in. The DJ was already playing the right kind of music to get you dancing. They were escorted to a reserved table with a few different bottles of drink in ice. They poured what they wanted and made themselves comfy.

More people started drifting in from the charity event and the bar become full. There were a few other girls from different teams on the dance floor. It was mostly athletes at this event as it was a sports charity, so Lucy could spot a few of the other girls out. She also spotted a certain blonde in the middle of the dance floor. Looking a lot more calmer than she did earlier. Ella and Georgia decided they wanted to dance, they made their way to dance floor but not without dragging Lucy down with them.

The girls laughed at Lucy pretending to not want to go, but Lucy didn’t put up a fight, she was the first the start dancing once they got to the dance floor. The other two joined them and all 5 of them were dancing under the strobe lights. After a half hour Lucy made her way to the toilets. She felt the effects of the alcohol hitting her a bit more, after leaving the hot room of bodies.

As she left the toilet stall she was met with Leah’s blue eyes staring back at her in the mirror. She stoped in her tracks for a quick second and made her way to the sink. Leah seemed to be doing something with her make up. She gave a small smile to the girl, and received a tight lipped smile back from Leah, it looked like it hurt her to do it.

Leah nearly dropped her lipgloss when she saw Lucy in the mirror. Lucy was making Leah nervous anytime she was close, she didn’t even have to be talking to her. Just her presence alone was enough.

Lucy wasn’t sure if she should really say anything, it felt more awkward than ever, she preferred it when there was a mutual hatred. The thing is Lucy didn’t hate Leah, she thought she was rude, a bit of a show off but she never hated her. She respected her as a football player, she was being honest when she told Leah she thought she was one of the best. However, if Leah was still going to be cold towards Lucy, even after earlier then she could simply fuck off.

Leah’s brain was in over drive trying to think of something to say. Her mouth became completely dry. She kept glancing at the brunette. Hoping to strike up any conversation.

Lucy gave herself a once over in the mirror before finishing up, and made her way towards the door.

“Thanks.”

Lucy’s paused in her tracks, hand on the door. Did she just hear that right? She turned to see Leah facing her. Lucy raised her eyebrows. She heard Leah but she wanted her to say it again. “Pardon?”

Leah looked at her shoes, clearly finding it hard to resist an eye roll. Lucy smiled internally. Leah looked back up at the defender and took a big breath. “Thank you for earlier. I’m - I’m not the best with all that stuff. Sorry you had to do it all.”

Lucy was shocked, she didn’t think she was going to get a thank you from the girl. She knew that must have taken a lot for Leah, she wasn’t going to gloat or be a dick about it. She smiled at the blonde in front of her. “That’s okay, I could see it was bothering you, it’s nothing.”

Lucy’s smile was becoming a big weakness for Leah.

Leah looked like she relaxed a little, and looked back at Lucy. “Also, sorry for holding on to you. I don’t really know what happened there.”

Lucy smiled her brilliant toothy smile, almost verging on flirty. “Ah that’s okay, don’t apologise for that, I didn’t mind.”

Leah smiled at Lucy with a shy smile, Lucy once again noticing how naturally beautiful the girl was. An awkward silence fell over them. Leah pushed her hair back behind her ear, looking around the room. Lucy was about to do them both a favour and wish Leah a good night but Leah wanted to keep talking.

“I like your suit by the way. Green really suits you. It goes with your eyes.”

Fuck, fuck. Fuck….why did you say that.

Lucy didn’t expect that, and she must have made that clear on her face. Leah looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. In one way Lucy liked seeing Leah squirm, it wasn’t something you saw often on Leah, it was just fun seeing her little pretty face go into panic mode. She’d seen Leah pull a few of these new faces tonight, and she was secretly loving it.

Lucy smirked, and she made sure it was flirty this time. She looked Leah up and down with just enough tease in her eyes. “Erm, thank you. I didn’t know you were looking at me so hard.”

And for the second time that night Leah was a deer in headlights. “Erm - I - I -, sorry, I just like your suit…and I saw your eyes were green, and - and… yeah, wow.” Leah looked like she was about combust. Lucy couldn’t watch her crumble anymore.

Lucy gave out a low chuckle. “Chill Leah, I’m joking. Thank you. You look really, really nice tonight, that dress is beautiful on you.” Lucy knew what she was doing, and was loving what it was doing to Leah.

Leah gave a small laugh, clearly feeling a little shy, from Lucy’s comment and her own comments. She pushed her hair back once more behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Silence fell over them again, Leah grabbed her bag and pointed towards the door. “I better go, the girls are probably wondering where I am.”

She walked towards the door and Lucy opened it for her. She could smell Leah’s sandalwood perfume, a lot like the one Lucy where’s. Lucy watched as the girl walked past her.

“Oh thanks.” Leah smiled shyly up at Lucy.

Lucy smiled back. “No worries.”

She watched the blonde go past and couldn’t help but have a cheeky look at her arse. She knew Leah had a good arse, but she only ever saw it before in football shorts, the dress was doing wonders.

The night went on. Lucy was with her small squad, all the girls was having a good time, many pictures were taken. Lucy posted a few to her story. She posted a picture of her alone, pouring a drink. Her abs were noticeable even through her white T-shirt. She knew she looked good, she knew her stomach looked good and yeah, she wanted to show it off.

Lucy would be lying if she wasn’t trying to look for a certain blonde in the crowd, but she hadn’t seen her since their toilet encounter. To say Lucy wasn’t a bit confused with the night would be an understatement. To be honest she didn’t hate the change in dynamics, she didn’t really like the rivalry between her and Leah. She hated that the press would even make it a topic to write about.

The night got later and the guest started to leave. The girls also called it a night. They had a car waiting for them outside. The event team had booked rooms for the girls at the hotel back where the charity event was held. It was 2 girls per room and Lucy got the long straw of having her own room.

On the way back to the hotel Lucy scrolled through her insta. She noticed a new name on her notifications. She smiled at her phone, seeing Leah Williamson name pop up. She had liked her latest post.

“Aye up, who’s got you smiling?” Georgia was sat opposite Lucy in their taxi.

Lucy looked up at Georgia, she really was like an annoying little sister sometimes. She closed her screen phone, but Keira had already seen what she was smiling at. Lucy smiled and shock her head. “Nothing, just a funny meme.”

Georgia wouldn’t drop it though. “Oh what a liar! Who is it then?”

“Erm you have a cheek.” Keira jumped in. “Wasn’t you flirting with that netball player all night? Shall we talk about that?”

Georgia smirked, and suddenly the view outside was more interesting than the conversation. All the girls laughed including Georgia.

“Mate, you are so red.” Ella laughed at Georgia. The girls started talking about the night and events that happened, questioning Georgia on her affairs.

Lucy caught eyes with Keira and thanked her with a smile. She loved the girls but they could definitely be relentless sometimes.

They finally arrived at the hotel. The girls got in the lift giggling at something Alessia said. They were all a little drunk, nothing too crazy but the drunk kind, when the most stupid thing is the more hilarious thing.

“Right, this is me. I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”

Lucy was on the floor below her teammates.

“Noooo, let’s keep this going. Drinks in my room.” Georgia pleaded.

“Night Luce, see you tomorrow.” Keira looked stressed to be sharing a room with Georgia.

“No way, I’m off. Good luck Keira. Night all.”

The doors shut on Georgia’s protest.

Lucy walked the hallway to her room, she turned the corner to see a woman standing with her back to her. As she turned around she was met with those blue eyes again. Once again those blue eyes were in a state of shock.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

Leah couldn’t believe her luck. Katie decided to bring a girl back to their shared hotel room. She saw the sock on the door and nearly lost her shit. She couldn’t complain too hard though, she had done the same thing 2 months ago to Katie and she didn’t complain.

Seeing Lucy in front of her was a bit of a shock. She seemed to bump into the girl a lot tonight. Seeing Lucy made her feel lots of different things, she couldn’t put her finger on just one. But excited was definitely the first word she could think of, but why was she here?

“Going to my room?” Lucy said it with a tone of sarcasm. Lucy wasn’t that shocked to see Leah, most of the hotel was booked for the events guest tonight.

“What are you doing here? Why you standing in the hallway?”

Lucy walked towards her room. Leah was clearly stressed about something, she nodded towards a door down from Lucy’s. It had a sock on the door nob.

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “Oh. I see, who you sharing with?”

Leah put her arms around herself. “McCabe.”

Lucy nodded her head. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”

Leah pulled out her phone. “I’ll just have to book somewhere else. I can’t be asked to get into anything with her.”

The next words out of Lucy’s mouth wasn’t thought through, they came out before she even realised she said it.

“You can stay with me?”

Leah was the one to raise her eye brows this time. She clearly wasn’t expecting that from Lucy. She didn’t want to assume anything either. Lucy doesn’t like her like that, she was just trying to be nice. She probably just felt bad. But she could still feel the butterflies in her stomach.

It felt like a lifetime of silence before Leah replied. Lucy never had so many silent conversations in her life before tonight.

“No, god. I don’t want to put you out. I’ll just wait in reception or something.” Leah put her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, clearly annoyed at the thought of waiting around.

Lucy once again feeling bad for the blonde in front of her tonight, this was becoming a habit.

“No, come on. Why would you do that. I’m sure there’s a pull out sofa in there. You can go to your room when she’s done.”

Leah looked at Lucy. The brunette couldn’t work out the thoughts going through her head. She opened the door with the key card. “Come on, I won’t bite. Unless you like that kind of thing.” She winked at Leah and gave her one of her flirty smiles. She couldn’t help it.

Fuck, Leah nearly lost her legs. Lucy flirting was not something she thought she’d ever be in the presence of. The wink alone made her squirm.

Leah finally laughed. She rolled her eyes and walked toward the now open door. Lucy held it open for her. Lucy was having deja vu once again tonight.

It was a nice room, it had a king size bed and wall length windows that was over looking London. Lucy’s suitcase was in the middle of the room. Lisa would have got that there for her.

Lucy walked towards the windows, she loved the city at night. She turned around to see Leah standing in the middle of the room, looking lost.

Lucy cleared her throat. “So, how was your night?” She sat on the sofa near the window. She didn’t really know what to do with herself. A couple of hours ago Lucy was dreading having to share the stage with Leah, now she was standing in front of her in her hotel room. She seemed to have shared a lot of different moments with Leah tonight.

Leah played her with fingers. “Erm, yeah, bit of a weird one. But, it was good. Yours?”

Lucy chuckled, she had a feeling Leah was referring to all of their encounter’s tonight.

“Yeah, weird is one way of putting it.”

Silence fell over them once more. Lucy didn’t really understand it. Leah was so vocal on the pitch. She had seen her in action plenty of times. Even after matches, in her interviews she was confident and wanted to talk about her thoughts on the game. But the women in front of her seemed, scared.

“Shall we see what the mini bar is offering?”

Leah let out a breath. “Please.”

“Good, something we can agree on. Do you want to sit, get comfy.” She watched the girl take off her leather jacket and sat on the opposite side of the small round table.

She found a few bottles of small spirits and plenty of mixers. Even 4 bottles of small Prosecco. Thank god.

“Okay we have, spice rum, vodka, gin and some Prosecco, what do you fancy?”

Leah was looking out the window. “Oh erm, rums good for me. Thank you.”

“I’ll join you with the rum I think.”

Lucy started making their drinks. Just as she was finishing up, music started playing in her ears. She was confused, she looked over at Leah who had a timid smile on her face.

“Sorry, I connected my phone to the speakers. Do you mind?”

Lucy carried the drinks over to the table. “Oh no, not at all. We’re having our own little party.” She sat down opposite Leah, handing her, her drink. Leah took it, her fingers touching Lucy’s quickly. She thanked her with a small voice.

“So, please tell me this is as awkward for you as it is for me.” It was probably the drink in her system that allowed Lucy to have the word vomit, like she did earlier when she asked Leah to stay the night.

Leah laughed loudly. A genuine belly laugh, Lucy once again noticing the girls beauty was, especially when she laughed or smiled. Lucy smiled, she was glad the girl was laughing and not throwing hands.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m feeling it too.” Leah pushed her hair back behind her ear and took a sip of her drink.

“Look, I know we’re not the best of friends but you can chill. I’m not going to start having a got at you or anything.”

Leah’s a confident person, she’s confident in her football, she’s confident speaking her mind, she’s very confident with flirting and getting what or who she wanted. However Leah wasn’t great at public speaking but, when her agent told her who she’d be presenting with she changed her tune quickly.

For a while Leah has had a crush on the brunette, well since she kind of laid eyes on her. She wasn’t in love with the girl, she had eyes she could appreciate a good looking woman. She also respected Lucy a lot, as a person and footballer. But she never made it obvious, she kept the angry front up as it was much easier than being turned down by Lucy. For some reason Lucy made her nervous and tonight it really showed. She didn’t expect Lucy to be anything but cold towards her as that’s how it had always been. So when the girl was being kind to her back stage it threw her completely off, she couldn’t keep up the coldness towards her, she just nervous instead.

Leah took another sip of her drink, watching Lucy over the rim of her glass. It was the first time Lucy felt like the deer in head lights.

Leah cleared her throat and sat back in her seat a small smile on her face. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been on a bit of edge today.”

Lucy nodded her head. She could understand, these kind of event days could be a lot. Press, photographers meeting so many people.

“Yeah I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Lucy wasn’t expecting that question.

“Not that I’m complaining, but we’ve never got on. You hate me, but you’ve been nothing but nice to me. I don’t get it.”

“Firstly, I don’t hate you Leah. Yeah we’ve never got on, but that’s because our first introduction to each other wasn’t great.”

Leah winced at that. Lucy wasn’t saying it in a harsh tone but what she was saying was true.

“I don’t know if you even remember but I never got an apology from you and it’s just kind of been tense since then. But I don’t hate you. I really respect you as a footballer and what you do for your club.”

Lucy took a long swig of her drink.

Leah’s shoulders slumped, she looked down at the floor, Lucy could see she felt bad.

“Well, I know it’s been a while since our first game but would you accept my apology now?”

Lucy smiled. “Yeah. Yeah I would.”

Leah smiled an easy smile back. “Lucy, I’m genuinely really sorry for how I acted on that first game. In all honesty I was terrified to play against you. I lost my temper that day and I was childish and stupid. I have regretted everyday since then that I didn’t apologise to you sooner.” She sat forward in her chair and put her hand on Lucy’s thigh. “I am truly sorry for how I acted that day, and every match we’ve had together since. I really am sorry.” She finished with a deep breath.

Leah took a long swig of her glass, finishing her drink.

Lucy was shocked at the sincereness of Leah, she could tell the girl meant it.

Lucy smiled her famous smile and raised her glass towards Leah.

“To new beginnings.”

The blonde smiled back, more tension looked liked it left her shoulders. She raised her glass.

“To new beginnings.”

They clinked their glasses together.

Lucy took a drink from her glass, looking at Leah over the rim of her glass. Leah looking right back at her. It became quiet again but it didn’t feel awkward. “Hang on, you need another drink.”

“I do. It’s okay I’ll make them. Same again?”

Lucy handed Leah her glass. Fingers touching once again. “Please.”

An hour later and 3 more drinks in. The room was worm. Leah’s music was still playing. It felt like an intimate party between the pair of them. The girls were a lot more comfortable now. Lucy had taken off her suit jacket. Leah had taken off her heels. They were now sitting on the small sofa together. Their knees kept knocking and touching one another but nobody moved to give the other space. Both girls belly laughing over something Lucy said.

“And that’s why I don’t eat pickles anymore.”

Leah wiped a tear from her eye, and put her hand on Lucy’s thigh. “Oh my god. I can’t believe it. That’s so funny.”

For the 100th time that night, Lucy caught herself staring at Leah. She couldn’t believe this time 12 hours ago she was dreading being near the girl, and now she was cracking jokes with her.

“God, I can’t believe I’m actually sitting in Lucy Bronze’s hotel room at 1 in the morning.”

Lucy put her hand to her own chest and faked a gasp. “Sorry? What’s so wrong with being in my hotel room?”

Leah laughed. Her hand still on Lucy’s thigh. “No, not like that. I know a lot of girls that would kill to be me right now.”

Lucy snorted. “Nope, you’ve hurt me Leah. I’ve done nothing but help you today and this is what I get.”

Leah squeezed Lucy’s thigh, laughing. “No. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now. I swear.”

Lucy couldn’t help herself, her flirty smile came out to play. “Oh is that so? So you do want to be in my hotel room at 1 in the morning, are you one of the girls you’re talking about?” Lucy took a sip of her drink laughing in her glass.

“Maybe.” Leah bit her lower lip, before raising her own glass to her mouth, still giggling.

The girls were tipsy at this point, but not drunk. They knew what they were saying was dangerous but not enough to get them in trouble.

Lucy wasn’t going to stop the flirting, she liked this new dynamic between them. Lucy had been checking Leah out all night, and Leah wasn’t innocent either.

“I bet McCabe isn’t even in there. I bet you put that sock there. You just wanted to be in my room.” Lucy laughed.

Leah now faked a fake gasp. “Right, I’ll go then you clearly don’t want me in your room. I’ll see if she’s done.”

Leah went to sit up but Lucy grabbed her by her waist pulling her back down. “No, don’t go.”

She fell half on Lucy’s lap, half on the sofa, face on, half straddling Lucy’s thigh.

Both girls laughter slowed down. Lucy still had her arm around Leah. She slowly looked up, face to face with the blonde. She no longer looked like a deer in headlights but more like a cat that got its milk. The air became thick. They had been playing on the fine line of flirting most of the night and now she had Leah sitting in her lap.

Leah was the first one to lean forward. Lucy kept her eyes on Leah’s blue ones, and slowly lowered her eyes on Leah’s glossed lips. Licking her own subconsciously. The only other time Lucy had been this close to Leah’s face was at a match when things got heated. Now that took a whole other meaning.

Leah looked at Lucy for any kind of sign to stop. Lucy could feel it. She gave Leah the smallest of nods. The blonde closed the gap between their mouths slowly.

Leah’s mouth tasted like vanilla and mint, Lucy instantly loved the flavour. Leah’s lips felt so much softer than Lucy could have imagined, and she had imagined them a lot tonight. She let Leah control the pace of their movements. The younger girl moved back slightly, just inches away from Lucy’s mouth. “Is this okay? Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m fine, are you? Do you want to stop?”

“No, not drunk and I definitely don’t want to stop.

Lucy nodded, and leaned in to Leah’s lips, she was already missing the feeling of them. The blonde girl shifted her body so she could straddle Lucy properly.

Lucy snaked her hands up Leah’s now bare thighs, her dressed had hitched up to her waist, giving Lucy all the access she wanted.

Leah pushed herself forward and placed her hands behind Lucy’s head, pinning her to the sofa. The brunette squeezed Leah’s thighs causing her to gasp. Lucy took the opportunity to push her tongue deep into Leah’s mouth causing the younger girl to moan.

Lucy could feel Leah smiling into the kiss. Lucy had kissed a few girls in her time but there was something about kissing Leah that made her head spin, every move she made was perfect. She felt her tongue caressing her bottom lip, sucking it into her own mouth. Lucy could feel herself getting wet.

Leah had control over their movements with the position she was in. She started to grind her hips into Lucy’s, this time Lucy was the one to gasp. Leah began to kiss down the brunette's neck, Lucy was more than willing to let Leah take her as she pleased. She slowly kissed every inch of Lucy’s neck before she moved to her throat, sucking hard on one spot. Lucy’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, pleasure taking over her.

“Fuck, Leah.”

If Leah’s tongue felt this good on her neck imagine the other places she would feel better at. When Leah was happy with the mark she left on Lucy’s tanned skin she took one long lick, gliding her wet tongue up Lucy’s neck, gliding to her ear. Lucy’s hands squeezed Leah’s thighs again, not being able to control her movements.

Leah was loving the control she had over Lucy, Seeing the older girl melt for her just over her kissing was making her ego grow ten times over. Leah gasped from Lucy’s touch once again, her strong hands close to where she needed her most. She moved her hands from the sofa into Lucy’s dark hair, pulling her head back with a gentle tug. Giving her full access to her mouth.

Lucy easily let Leah control her. The blonde took the opportunity to lick into Lucy’s mouth. Lucy loved the movements Leah was doing with her tongue. Her hips grinded up into the blonde, Leah smiled down devilishly at Lucy.

Leah was dominating the kissing, Lucy’s head was spinning. She started to rub her thumbs dangerously close to Leah’s very wet underwear. Leah released Lucy’s hair and started to grind with more purpose, though she had nothing to grind on. Lucy could tell she was becoming frustrated, she glided her right hand up to Leah’s toned thigh. She felt the fabric of Leah’s underwear, she could tell it was lace straight away. Her personal favourite.

She lowered her hand right where Leah needed her, she could feel the heated damp patch between her legs. Leah let out a moan from the first touch. Lucy studied Leah’s face, she was even more beautiful up close. Leah started to grind on Lucy’s hand, trying to get any friction that she could find.

Lucy didn’t want to waste anymore time, she wanted to feel Leah, she pulled her underwear to the side and glided her fingers through Leah’s soaking wet lips. The younger girl let out a glorious moan, her hips grinding harder. Lucy couldn’t believe how wet Leah was already, it made her head grow 5 times the size. She glided her finger up to Leah’s clit, and gently back down, wanting to explore the girl above. “Someone’s wet.” Lucy’s voice was low and cocky.

Leah whimpered, hearing Lucy talk in her like this was sinful, hearing the teasing in her tone. Feeling Lucy touching every part of her sensitive flesh was driving her mad. Leah didn’t want to lose the control over their rhythm, she wanted to be the one in charge but that was slowly slipping.

“Tell me what you want.” Lucy was kissing Leah’s neck as her fingers kept playing with her velvet lips, slowly circling her clit every few seconds.

“I want you inside, fuck me. Please.”

Lucy’s fingers were soaked with Leah’s own juices. She slid a single finger in with no resistance. Fuck she felt good.

Leah moaned low into Lucy’s ear, the brunette was loving every second of hearing the girls moan. She added a second finger. Leah was tight, she could feel her pussy walls pulling her in. She started to pump, moving with Leah’s hips. It wasn’t the best position but she would make it work. The blonde was panting hard into her neck. Lucy thought Leah was beautiful before, but seeing her like this was something completely different. She looked like a work of art, a work of art getting fucked.

“Do you know how good you look Leah?”

She kept pumping. Leah lifted her head looking down at Lucy. Her muscular arms were on show, watching her flex from each stroke made Leah’s pussy walls flex, and Lucy could feet it.

Lucy snaked her other hand up to Leah’s thigh, moving past her thongs and straight to her swollen clit, making small circle motions. Leah’s mouth gapped open, Lucy couldn't but stare at the girl above in awe.

“Oh my god Lucy, don’t stop. You feel amazing. Don’t stop.”

Lucy didn’t once take her eyes off of Leah, she was mesmerised by the sight. She took a quick bite of Leah’s neck, causing Leah to whimper. “I got you Leah, I won’t stop. You feel so good, you’re so fucking tight.”

Leah loved Lucy’s words, she could feel her own legs shaking. She could feel she was close. She leaned down and kissed Lucy hard. She wanted to feel her lips when she came.

“Kiss me Luce, don’t stop kissing me.”

Lucy didn’t complain. She kissed Leah back just like she asked, she could feel Leah getting close, she didn’t once stop her movements.

Leah was feeling the glorious coil in her stomach. Lucy’s tongue was deep in her mouth, sucking on her tongue. Leah felt like she couldn’t breathe in the best way possible, she was surrounded by Lucy. She started to make short little gasps, her climax was just on the cusp. Leah took control of the kissing and sucked in Lucy’s tongue, causing the girl to moan in her mouth. It pushed her over the ledge she’d been sitting on all day.

Leah moaned loud as she came. Her pussy flexed against Lucy’s fingers, her body shook hard. Her mouth was still attached to Lucy’s lips. Lucy watched Leah like a hawk, making sure to follow every movement to help guide her orgasm.

Leah’s eyes were closed, she leaned her four head against Lucy’s, breathing hard. When she finally opened her eyes, she was met with dark green ones staring back at her. A shy smile crept on Leah’s face. Did that really just happen?

Lucy slowly pulled out of Leah, the blonde groaned from the loss. She sat back, on Lucy’s legs.

But Leah wasn’t done there. She took Lucy’s hand that had been in-between her legs, she saw her two fingers glistening with her juices. She slowly raised Lucy’s hand to her lips, gently kissing them with her swollen kissed lips. Lucy’s breathing quickened, she knew what Leah was going to do and she could feel herself getting wet.

Leah gently licked Lucy’s wet fingers, gliding her tongue, making sure Lucy could see every inch of what her tongue could do. Lucy didn’t blink. She didn’t want to miss a second of this. Watching Leah’s long tongue glide across her skin was magical.

“Fuck…” Lucy breathed out.

Leah slowly sucked in Lucy’s fingers, she was showing off for Lucy, she wanted to be the one in control. She was loving that Lucy looked like she was about to melt on the floor. She looked down at the brunette, she looked so fucking good, her once neat her was now tussled, her white vest top had ridden up just a bit so you could see the bottom of her abs. You could see her muscular stomach through the white vest top as she breathed. Leah was in a trance looking at the brunette.

She released Lucy’s fingers with a loud pop. She slowly climbed off her thighs and stepped back. She unclipped the back of her black dress, it fell to the floor around her feet.

Lucy’s mouth gapped open.

The brunette had seen glimpses of Leah’s stomach when on the pitch. She knew she had a stunning body but she’s always wondered what the rest of her looked like. The thing is Lucy had a little secret. She had crushed on Leah for a little while. It was a weird feeling to crush on your ‘enemy’ she brought out the best and worst parts of Lucy on the pitch, and it had caused Lucy to want to know the girl more. In many different ways. But to have Leah Williamson standing in front of you, in nothing but a pair of laced black thongs and a a see through bra to match, was breathtaking.

Leah sunk to her knees, in-between Lucy’s spread legs. She reached for Lucy’s trousers unbuttoning them, bitting her bottom lip. She tugged at Lucy’s trousers, trying to make a point that she needed them off. Lucy’s brain finally caught up. She stood up to remove her bottoms but Leah got there first. She slowly dragged her suit trousers down to her ankles, her girl boxers following right behind.

Lucy was wet.

Leah was proud.

She had Lucy Bronze, a woman that so many players looked up to. So many players were intimidated by, standing in front of her, soaking wet for her. Her chest swelled. She gently started kissing Lucy’s thighs, she could hear Lucy breathing above her. She guided Lucy to sit back on the sofa, she got herself comfortable in-between Lucy’s legs.

Lucy couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Leah Williamson, on her knees for her. She was about to burst, she could feel her stomach tensing from anticipation. She had definitely imagined Leah like this a few times.

Leah kissed Lucy’s thighs some more, wanting to tease her just a little bit. She looked up to see Lucy looking flustered. Just what she wanted. Though, she was just as excited as Lucy for this moment, she didn’t want to wait anymore. Leah stroked her tongue right up to the crease at Lucy’s thigh. Lucy’s body jumped at the touch.

Leah leaned forward to Lucy’s lips, she could see her lips were coated in her juices. Leah’s own mouth watered.

Lucy could feel Leah breathing on her. The younger girl took a long, slow lick into Lucy’s cunt. She moaned at the taste. Her new favourite flavour. Lucys head fell back on the sofa. She was painfully turned on, her pussy was throbbing.

Lucy was more wet than Leah realised. Her tongue was met with her honey like juices. She swallowed the mouthful that gathered on her tongue. She couldn’t get over how good she tasted.

Leah lapped her up, wanting to feel every bit of Lucy on her tongue. The brunette was in heaven, it felt like Leah was on every inch of her. Caressing every spot.

Leah leaned back on her heels, Lucy’s juices still attached to her mouth, creating wet string between both Leah’s lips and Lucy’s lower lips. The blonde stuck out her tongue, greedily tasting Lucy’s juices, breaking the wet string attached to her wet mouth.

“You taste so good Luce. I could eat you out all night.”

Lucy could have came from the site alone, she hoped the image would burn in her brain.

Lucy let out a low chuckle, she brought her hands up to the blondes hair, she gently pushed some of her hair behind her ear. Leah couldn’t believe how delicate Lucy was being towards her, even in this position.

“I would gladly have you in-between my legs all night. Leah, you don’t know how good you like right now. On your knees for me. Do you know how beautiful you are?” Lucy’s voice was low and full of lust, but also sounded so loving.

Leah smiled at Lucy. She felt more bare than when she stripped. She kept her eyes on Lucy’s as she went back to her pussy. She traced her tongue into Lucy’s folds, she could feel the brunette getting wetter. Lucy slowly laced her hands into Leah’s hair. Leah moaned at the contact, she wanted to please Lucy so badly. She captured Lucy’s swollen clit into her mouth sucking it gently.

Lucy hissed in pleasure from the action. She wasn’t going to last long but she was shocked that she even got to this far. Her hips started to grind into Leah’s mouth, she gripped tighter onto Leah’s hair.

Leah was more than willing to let Lucy take control to reach her climax. Lucy’s breathing become rough, her hips kept grinding into Leah’s mouth. Her legs began to shake.

“Leah, ….Leah, I’m so close. Don’t stop. Your tongue feels so, so good!” Lucy nearly shouted the last words. She pushed Leah’s face deeper into her pussy, needing her exactly where she wanted her. Leah wasn’t going to stop, she would go all night if she could, well if Lucy would let her. She sucked and licked Lucy’s clit, loving every sound she pulled from the brunette.

“Fuuuck, I’m coming. Don’t stop!”

She came hard onto Leah’s tongue. Her head fell back against the sofa. Eyes closed. Leah continued her movements, she could feel Lucy’s juices flowing into her mouth. She never stopped.

She was still grinding into Leah’s mouth, ridding out her orgasm as much as she could. She could feel Leah’s tongue all over her cunt. She loved how good Leah was making her feel. She stopped her movements and slowly took her hands out of Leah’s hair she looked down at the girl in-between her legs. She had Lucy’s juices dripping down her chin. Her hair was disheveled. She looked beautiful.

Lucy leaned forward, cupping Leah’s chin. She couldn’t help but smile at her.

“That was amazing. You are amazing. Fuck.”

Leah felt herself blush. Lucy’s words did something to her.

“Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Lucy chuckled. She brought her hand from Leah’s chin into her hair and guided her to her mouth. She kissed Leah deeply, her tongue roaming hers. The kiss made Leah’s pussy throb.

“I’m gonna shower, do you wanna join me?”

Lucy voice was low.

“Yeah. That would be nice. Oh but I haven’t got any clothes to change into.”

Lucy gave Leah a lustful smile. “You won’t need any.”

Leah was definitely dripping now. She got up quickly and dragged Lucy towards the bathroom stripping off her remaining clothes as she did.

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso #woso community #woso smut #lucy bronze #lucy bronze smut #leah williamson #leah williamson smut #woso fanfics

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doobean · 6 months

Text

AN EASY A - NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: There's a problem student in your class and he just can't seem to understand that he needs to put in the effort. You've already given him three chances to make up his assignments - all of which he ignored. But what happens when he suggests another alternative during office hours?

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, age gap (he's 22 and reader is 27), student-teacher (duh), reader kind of a tough professor lol, also a bully too ig, sex in teacher's office, masturbation (reader), power imbalance, nonconsensual video recording, vaginal sex, unprotected, creampie, breast/nipple play, dom?reader, switch!nagi, cunninglingus, cumming on face and inside, degradation, name calling (brat x 2, good boy x 1), nagi having a big dick, happy ending :) word count: 3.7K a/n: part 3 of my kinktober event :3 SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LIFE TOOK OVER BUT I HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR THE LOST TIME ;; I WILL MAKE THE LAST KINKTOBER FIC EXTRA SPICY TOO DONT WORRY FAM - also im super proud of myself for literally scraping the draft and rewrote this within a span of two days?? like wow the pressure is on.

There are some habits that never seem to change — even with age. You’ve seen it all, experienced it too, from emailing your teachers last minute about having to make up an exam worth over half of your course grade to faking a family death in order to get an extension, or — and this is more for students who are a bit too ‘brave’ — blaming the teachers for their inability to do their jobs. You knew what you would be getting into when you went into this job, from having to do the last minute panic pleas to now being on the receiving end of it. And you now actually feel sorry for having to bombard your past professors like that.

You release a deep breath from your nose and flick the red gel pen across a student’s exam, circling the large failing number by their name. “I’ll see you next year.” You try to sound less harsh, more on the sympathetic side, since you’re relatively still within the same age group as some of these students, but who wants to hear that? That they have to repeat a course and be stuck a graduation year behind? Absolutely no one.

You want to look away as you hand the student back his exam scores because you just know it’s going to end with tears and meaningless pleas but that would be unprofessional on your end. Instead, you give the student a small smile and a couple of pieces of candy from the glass bowl next to you.

“Sorry if it’s not much but it’s better than nothing?” God, you need to work on your pep talk. These students are basically adults, not elementary school kids.

“A-Are you sure I can’t do anything else to boost my grade?” The student starts to whimper and you have to tense your whole body from cringing at their quivering voice.

Ugh, it’s useless. Why bother begging if they haven’t bothered to study the material?

Still, you manage to whip up an emphatic frown and shake your head, voice sounding more motherly. “I’m sure it’ll be easier for you to understand next time.”

Another whine and then a final huff before the student storms out of your office. By the time the door shuts and their wails are out of ear shot, you slump back into your chair and groan loudly into your palms. Your body aches from being at your desk all day long — your mind is doing no better, having to deal with students’ cries and unwarranted trauma dumping. Seriously, when are they going to pay teachers more to deal with this type of stuff?

On the bright side of things, your office hours are officially over. Final grades will be up by tonight and you’ve completed most of your tasks with all but one student being a constant no show for the eternity of the semester but that responsibility doesn’t fall onto you. He and the handful of others can just show up again next year.

You spend some time debating your options, eating a nice, warm bowl of noodles sounds good for now but… you did spend nearly eight hours cooped up in your office and you are feeling a bit high energy right now, so stress relieving might be a good answer first.

“Now, where did I put that thing?” You reach down your desk, pulling up your purse and rummage through it looking for a very specific purple ‘massager’.

It’s super rare for you to ‘release’ stress while on campus grounds, this might be one of the few times, with others following the same patterns, but you feel the utter need to reward yourself after today’s events. It’ll only take you maybe ten minutes max, afterwards it’s dinner and then a quiet train ride home. Plus, not like you have a partner who can do this for you — you barely have time to take care of yourself, let alone be in a relationship or commit yourself to a random hook up. Sometimes, it’s just better to handle the situation yourself since it is your body.

A breathy sigh leaves your lips as you place the vibrating head against the soft cotton fabric of your panties, already soaked through by just the thought of de-stressing yourself. You throw your head back, with one hand steady with the magic wand and the other traveling up to your blouse, unbuttoning the top and allowing your black bra to be exposed in the room. As you increase the pressure from the vibrations, your free hand spills your breasts from its cups, your thumbs and digits immediately running over the sensitive nubs and plush flesh of your chest as you start to chase your high.

“M-Mhm—! Right there…” You roll your head to the side and shut your eyes, imagination fleeting to the thoughts of a male seated in between your legs, his tongue desperate and latching to your overwhelmed clit and folds while your thighs keep his shoulders in place.

You think it’s so unfair that your other friends have already settled down with partners of their own. When holidays come around the corner, when you finally catch a break from all the whining and fake wolf cries, you just have to hear your friends gush about how romantic their partners are to them. You secretly hate winter because of it. All those talks about Christmas gifts, their New Year’s couples resolutions, their stupid fancy ski trips that cost close to thousands of dollars, and then top it off for Valentine’s Day. Summer is more bearable, only because of the lack of romantic holidays, but you still get bitter from seeing their beach photos and international trips.

You change the position of your magic wand, facing it closer and pressing it harder down your clit, nearly drawing blood from your lips as you suppress back a frantic moan — a moan that’s a mix of both pleasure and frustration.

Fuck the students. Fuck your friends. And fuck this job.

“H-Haah—! Oh my god…” Your hips buckle feverishly, body quaking in your seat as you start to feel a familiar coil tightening in your stomach and a rush down below. A build up of tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes as your vision starts to grow hazy. Your heart heaves forward, about to burst out of your chest, the imaginary man just about to finish you off—

Creak.

Your eyes immediately pop open and the color drains from your face at the squealing sound from the door. You don’t have enough time to cover yourself up when you realize that a student is standing by the entrance, wearing an equally shocked expression on his face. A tousle of white shaggy hair, large gray eyes, appearing at a staggering height with—your gaze trail to his hands and nearly faint from the sight—his phone.

The sound of the door creaking again snaps you out of the phase and your arms fly over your chest, the words stuck in your throat and your vibrator falling to the floor.

Shit, what should you ask first? Has he been recording you this whole time? When did he even show up? You’re positive that you were the only one left in the academic building, so what is going on?

“Um,” The male has the audacity to walk in the room, his gaze fixated on everything but you. “Are office hours still open?”

What. The. Fuck.

You blink once, twice, and, when the student is still standing there, confirming your thoughts that he isn’t an awful mirage sent down by the Lord himself, you feel yourself internally shrinking.

“I-Is that the first thing you want to ask me?” You stifle back a laugh, or at least you think it’s a laugh. Maybe even a few waterworks for later. “Just who are you?”

But then it hits you. The black and blue duffle bag he has by his side had his name engraved on it. You don’t need to take a closer to recognize the national team’s logo and you certainly don’t need a Google search to realize that Nagi fucking Seishiro, a soccer prodigy and your apparent student for the semester, might’ve just recorded you masturbating in your office.

You manage to find an old jacket from one of the drawers at your desk and throw it on before pointing a harsh finger at the man. “Delete it, now.”

“Will I get an A?” Nagi is surprisingly blunt and, now looking back, this might honestly be the first time you’ve ever talked to him out of the whole semester. He seems to catch your perplexed look, shooting you a pair of creased brows back as he explains, “All of my other courses were remote because of training and football games… You were the only professor that denied it.”

You huff, seemingly annoyed that he thinks he can be an exception to your course rules. “I don’t hand out favoritism to just anyone and,” You glare at the phone in his hand, sneering right back at his uncaring facial expression. “I’m definitely not going to pass you if you’re threatening to black mail me.”

“Maybe we can help each other out?” Nagi offers, maybe a bit too fast and too eager.

You cautiously sink back in your seat, eyes narrowing at his suggestion. “What are you implying, Nagi?” The male shuffles awkwardly in place and your gaze flicks down, eyes widening for the nth time today and an audible gasp slips out. “You can’t be serious.”

“I need to pass and you—” Nagi clears his throat and motions to your slick covered vibrator, which is still very much on and buzzing away on the wooden floor boards near his feet. “You didn’t finish.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and adjusts the semi-hard length through his sweats with his other before finishing his offer. “I’ll delete the video, help you, and you’ll give me an A?” Nagi lamely suggests.

You want to scream, dig yourself a ditch large enough to fit you and the rest of however much pride you had left, and wither away. You’ve had students coming to you with plenty of other excuses, much more tamed than whatever situation you’ve found yourself in. And, regardless how much shitty this actually is, it doesn’t get rid of the fact that: one — you’re still sexually frustrated from having your orgasm ruined by this oversized, lazy fucker, two — you literally just got this job a year ago and getting fired for masturbating on campus might not look so great on your record, and three — if Nagi is true to his words, maybe you both can just forget about it the next day.

“You don’t get the control, I do.” You rise from your seat, allowing the jacket to fall from your frame. Your gaze hardens on the male subject in front of you as you bend down to reach for your toy, turning it off and putting it away in a nearby drawer that’s most likely filled with other student’s graded assignments.

Whatever, they’ll probably cry more fluids on it when they get their results back anyway.

Nagi tenses when you reach over to touch his arms, feeling up his toned biceps and rest of his upper body underneath the black hoodie, and he doesn’t dare to move unless you tell him to. You let out a scoff, feeling satisfied that he’s already willing to compromise so quickly under short notice. With a light tug on his sleeve, you drag him closer to your desk and settle yourself on top of it. You hike up your pencil skirt to your upper thighs and spread your legs wide enough for the width of his shoulders.

“On your knees, brat.”

He silently obliges, bending down on one knee and his hands find home on your inner thighs. You resist the urge to squirm under his touch, still feeling rather sensitive from your earlier chase and not wanting to give him any ounce of satisfaction. Without any audible exchanges, he allows you to direct his head closer to the heat of your sex, the combination of your increasing wetness and the hot puffs from his breath makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

With a quick swipe, his fingers brush aside your panties to the crease of your thighs and lean in, giving a few experimental licks to your slicked cover folds before burying the rest of his face in. Your reaction is instant. Your fingers claw their way deep into his shoulder blades, thighs threatening to squeeze the living life out of him, but Nagi’s grip is even more threatening. He stays rigid, palms glued to your thighs and keeping them in place as his tongue flicks against the stiff nub — drawing lazy circles.

Your mouth betrays your character as he suddenly decides to insert two digits, scissoring their way into your velvety walls. Nagi grunts in response at just how lewd you sound right now.

“Soaking wet…” He observes with careful eyes at your sex before looking up, a playful smirk flashes across his face when he notices the flush in your cheeks. With another twirl from his fingers, combined with the slow swirls from his tongue, your head rolls back as the torrent seems to be relentless.

With the next extra pumps, you cum hard with a shudder, vicing your thighs against his head. You can feel the leak of fluids slide out of your folds, and Nagi pushes his face inward, making sure he slid his tongue against that sweet spot of yours again. It blinds you with a final surge of pleasure, and you cry out as your orgasm shakes you to the core, nails biting into his shoulders.

You’ve never experienced an orgasm that intense before, even with the usage of your vibrator — hell, you can’t even remember when’s the last time a man has made you reach that high. Bright colors cloud your vision as you tumble through what seems like an endless bliss. Your body goes slack, back now flushed against the office desk, but Nagi’s body is still tense, his muscles twitching as he gets to his feet and lifts your legs off his shoulders.

“Hey,” Nagi slurs, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. “We’re not done here.”

“W-What are you talking about—ah!”

Your vision is just beginning to clear up when you find yourself trapped between Nagi’s arms. He’s hovering above you, a certain dark look casts over his gray hues as he bores into your own. You swallow hard, heart beating faster when you look down to see his sweats already laid around his thighs and his cock springs free, head spilling with heavy amounts of pre. Nagi’s length twitches at the sounds of your moans and the male takes that as a sign of approval.

“What?” He leans forward, his bangs brushing against your forehead. “You’ve never seen a penis before?”

“Don’t get smart with me, brat.” You spit back, immediately tearing your gaze away from his rather impressive size. Might be the biggest you’ve ever seen in person outside from those awful porn videos online.

If you can find the energy to, you might’ve laughed at his lame attempt to have the upper hand, but Nagi doesn’t waste his time. He closes the distance, smashing his lips against yours, tongue already dragging its way down your throat. You choke back but recover quickly, hands flying to his locks, grabbing fistfuls, and rocking your hips against his hardened appendage. A sinful groan slips from his lips and lifts one of your thighs up, your ankle resting on his shoulder while he wraps the other around his waist.

You part your lips when he breaks away from the kiss, a thin trail of saliva connecting you two, and a whine spills from you as Nagi begins sliding his cock in between your folds. He sucks in his teeth, breath hitching sharply at the sight.

“Wanna put it in so bad—” He shudders seeing your slick engulfing his length. “Can I—Can I please put it in?” His monotone voice now replaced with a shaky resolve, almost as if he’s seeking for your next stage of approval and pleasure.

You reach up and cup his cheeks in your hands, eyes softening at his glassy ones. “Promise to delete that video and you might get a chance, Nagi.”

“Sei,” The male breathes out.

You tilt your head. “Huh?”

Nagi leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheeks into your palms. “Want you to call me Sei… Can you do that?”

“Sei…” You whisper out, suppressing back a laugh when you see the towering male tensing at the sound of his name. The twitching from his cock brushes against your clit making you squirm. “Sei, make me cum around that cock of yours.”

A cry escapes from the both of you when he slides in, inching bit by bit and holding your waist with both hands as leverage. You can’t do anything but throw your head back, sounds leaving your hoarse throat at the sheer size from him. Your hands can only reach his thighs, nails leaving their crescent marks on his skin as Nagi bottoms out inside of you with a long, agonizing stroke. Nagi takes his time, building a slow but steady rhythm, staring down at you with intense gray eyes and making sure the thickness of his cock stretches your walls as he continues. You suddenly feel grateful that you came earlier, the extra slick and foreplay made the insertion easier because you’re certain without it there’s no guarantee that you would’ve been able to handle this mind numbing fucking.

After a few more experimental strokes, Nagi finds a comfortable pace. You’re now starting to get used to him and it feels so, so good that you’re finding everything in your power to spread your legs as far open as they would go. Sensing your struggle, Nagi lifts one hand to push your thigh back even further, and you let out a yelp, whining when you feel him brushing against that sweet spot inside of you again.

A warm rushing sensation starts building in your stomach again and you feel as if you’re about to jump off a cliff. Your walls clamp down around his cock, wails starting to bounce off the walls and legs shaking without any means of control. You’re absolutely floored by the way Nagi’s able to make your body react this much under his touch. It’s only your first time having sex, yet it feels like he’d been making love with you for a lifetime.

Your eyes fly shut as the feeling of his callous thumbs make their way onto your swollen clit, rubbing and tapping away. Flames are riding your nerves, you can’t hold back any sort of resistance in your voice as he picks up the pace, hips slamming into yours and sounds of sex filling the air. Nagi moves swiftly and punishingly, holding your hips still and not allowing you any room to move around as his cock tears against that spot that had tears finally spilling down your flushed face.

“Sei,” You choke out a sob, throwing a hand over your mouth to try and suppress some of the noise. Though, you and him both know it’s a futile effort.

The build up of pleasure is so binding that you’re beginning to lose sense of time and place, feeling only the desperate and feral thrusts from your student. Your second orgasm fades slowly, leaving you in a pool of ecstasy, but that doesn’t stop Nagi.

Still hard and pumping, his grip on your hips only tighten and he grunts out a lustful moan. “Feels good, right? Cumming all over me?”

You look up to him, tears of pleasure disorienting your vision, and in a state where you’re too incoherent to speak — pleading only with your doe eyes.

Nagi understood immediately. He slows down his pace, leaning forward, making sure the head of his cock kisses the inside of your cervix before bending down to place one on your own gaping lips.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You manage out.

He groans at the pet name and peppers your face and neck with wet kisses, lifting your leg with one hand so that he can slowly stroke back and forth inside.

One of your hands reaches for your chest, fondling and toying with your nipples while your other hand reaches for the back of his head, gripping his white locks and pulling him down for another feverish kiss. Your lips remain sealed and pressed together in a battle of tongues as he rocks inside of you, sending you yet another orgasm as he moans into your mouth.

“H-Haah—I’m close…” His hips buck wildly. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty pussy…”

Nagi finally comes undone inside of you, his whole body shuddering as coats of white paint the insides of your velvety walls. A heavy pant from him catches your ears as he pulls out slowly, eyes admiring the hot, white trail that travels down your thighs and onto your desk.

By now, you can barely keep your eyes open, both mind and body exhausted. You try to get up, only to find zero strength left in your limbs, but soon you feel a pair of toned biceps around your waist and Nagi pulls you into his firm, yet comforting chest.

You want to ask him something again, something regarding that video he took of you earlier, but you’re beginning to lose your train of thought as exhaustion creeps up. Your entire body aches and your pussy is still emptying his remaining orgasm. But, strangely enough, you find yourself not caring about it anymore.

A smile makes its way onto your features as you drift off to sleep, making you miss the fact that Nagi did delete the video shortly after and scribble a quick note next to your purse. It’ll be another hour before you have the chance to read it.

‘Don’t forget that A. XXX-XXX-0506 - Sei.’

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART III)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #cw: power imbalance #cw: video recording #cw: age gap #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #doobean writes

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citizen-zero · 1 year

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Some people have been making the joke about the characters of Dracula being stuck in a time loop but honestly it got me thinking about how epistolary novels feel like a potent manifestation of the concept of being doomed by the narrative

Because when I read a non-epistolary book, I’m not left with this sense that it’s all going to reset because the events of the book aren’t happening according to a very specific timeline. Like, sure, maybe specific dates get mentioned in the book, but it’s not as rigid as having a diary or letters with exact dates laid out over the course of six months.

Because Dracula has a definitive start date and end date, the characters are fixed in time and being (sometimes literally) railroaded. Your sense of the passage time is very concrete and there’s not a ton of wiggle room. Like, a book such as…idk, The Great Gatsby that doesn’t have any dates in it (IIRC) feels timeless. Sure, maybe it takes place in spring and summer, but you can kind of lose track of that because there isn’t a calendar keeping you aware of the date. Gatsby has to die within a certain window of time in the year but you’re free to imagine that as being whenever you want.

Not so in Dracula. Jonathan HAS to be on his way to Castle Dracula on May 3 and 4, he HAS to be there until at least late June. He cannot be already at the castle on May 2, and he can’t leave until after a particular date has come and gone. Every event in the book has to happen on or about the date it’s written about, there’s no room for deviation. We are free to imagine what might happen between specific dates (especially in the long stretches with no updates) but ultimately it all has to conclude in a specific event happening on a specific date.

That really lends the book the sense of being a time loop because we can pin down a pretty much exact timeline of the book. We know that these characters are locked in, and on the dates of the novel they cannot meaningfully deviate from the text. And because of that, they’re doomed to live those events out on the same exact date every single year for all time.

It adds the same layer of dread/grief/futility that you might feel when playing a game and reading in-universe diaries/news stories/etc from the early days of the game’s apocalypse. You can’t change the events of the past no matter how much hindsight you have, and none of us can change the canon events of Dracula no matter how much foresight we have. Jonathan is always going to be on his way to Dracula on May 3, and he’s always going to be completely unaware of what’s waiting for him.

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #personal #erika's blog and bar

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months

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The Lady - 1

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , -

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

In the heart of the military training ground, you, a seasoned Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) technician, stand poised amidst a group of nervous soldiers. Among them is Private Jameson, a newcomer with trembling hands and apprehensive eyes. With unwavering composure, you take charge, your voice steady as you address the group.

"Today, we're covering the basics of bomb disposal," you begin, your tone reassuring yet firm. Turning to Private Jameson, you offer a patient smile.

"You, Private. What's your name?" Despite his nervousness, Private Jameson responds, and you guide him with a calming presence, instilling confidence as you impart your expertise.

"Jameson, take a deep breath," you instruct softly but firmly. "Remember, focus is key. You've got this." Private Jameson nods, his eyes locked on your reassuring gaze.

As he examines the device, you watch attentively, offering guidance with each movement. When he finishes, you nod approvingly. "Well done, Private. Now, let's move on."

As Private Jameson continues under your guidance, the other soldiers watch with admiration. They've seen you in action before, witnessed your dedication to the mission and your willingness to put yourself in harm's way for the greater good.

"Ma'am, what if the situation calls for immediate action?" Private Reynolds interjects, reflecting the group's curiosity.

You acknowledge the gravity of the question. "In a real-world scenario, there may not be time for thorough examination," you explain calmly. "Trust your instincts and make split-second decisions."

Private Jameson glances at you, newfound respect shining in his eyes. "But you always seem so calm under pressure, ma'am," he remarks admiringly.

You smile humbly, reflecting on the countless moments of uncertainty you've faced. "It's not about being fearless, Private," you reply earnestly. "It's about pushing through fear for those counting on you."

Your words hang in the air, a silent reminder of the sacrifices made by soldiers like you every day. With renewed determination, Private Jameson nods, his resolve strengthened by your example.

As the door of the training facility echoed with a sharp knock, you exchanged a puzzled glance with your comrades. The abrupt interruption stirred a sense of unease within you, a foreboding whisper of uncertainty.

"A lawyer wants to see you," the soldier at the door announced, his voice tinged with urgency.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Me?" you repeated, your mind racing to grasp the sudden turn of events. "Hmm, he sounds British," you mused aloud, your instincts sharpened by years of training.

With measured steps, you followed your comrade through the maze of corridors until you reached the visitor's area. There, standing before you, was a figure from your past, a familiar face veiled in the somber cloak of time.

"Miss," the lawyer greeted you with a solemn nod, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him, the memories flooding back like an unstoppable tide. It had been fifteen years since you last saw him, a lifetime of distance and estrangement separating you.

"I assumed something bad happened?" you ventured cautiously, your tone laced with concern and apprehension.

The lawyer, Cedric, nodded gravely, his expression betraying the gravity of the news he bore.

You and Cedric found a quiet place to talk. "Something's wrong?" you inquired, noting the somber expression on Cedric's face as he adjusted his glasses.

Cedric remained silent momentarily, his gaze fixed on the ground before meeting your eyes. "Duke Rupert died two days ago," he finally uttered, his voice laden with gravity.

Your heart clenched at the news. Duke Rupert was your stepfather, and the thought of his passing filled you with a mix of sorrow and apprehension.

Cedric continued, his words weighed down by the weight of the news. "On his will, he wrote that he wants all the family to gather. I came here as soon as I could. And you could attend the funeral too. He probably wants it too."

You nodded, absorbing the information with a heavy heart. The sudden loss of Duke Rupert had thrown your world into disarray, and the prospect of gathering with the family only added to the uncertainty swirling within you.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, determined to face whatever lay ahead with strength

You nodded in response to Cedric's words, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I'll gather my things," you said quietly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

As you packed your belongings into your bag, Private Jameson approached you, his curiosity evident in his voice. "So, it turns out you're a noble," he remarked, his tone tinged with surprise.

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head in response. "I'm not. It was my step-dad. There's no noble blood in me," you explained, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice.

Jameson furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued. "We've been working together for years, but you never mentioned anything about this," he observed, his tone filled with genuine interest.

You zipped up your bag, pausing momentarily before meeting Jameson's gaze. "It's just family stuff. Nothing interesting," you replied cryptically, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes before you turned away, ready to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.

After a grueling 12-hour flight, you finally arrived back in the UK. As the car pulled up to Evergreen Abbey, your childhood home, a rush of nostalgia washed over you. The manor stood proudly, its historical façade unchanged by the passing years.

Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to absorb the familiar sight before you. The memories of your upbringing flooded back, filling you with a sense of belonging despite the years of absence.

As you entered the manor, you were greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman wearing a classic black dress adorned with a string of pearls. Her youthful aura belied the years that had passed since you last saw her. It was your mother, Susan.

"You're back," she exclaimed, opening her arms wide to envelop you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of her perfume brought tears to your eyes as you returned her hug, feeling a sense of comfort and homecoming wash over you.

You nodded as Susan spoke, absorbing the news of Duke Rupert's accident with a heavy heart. The realization that your stepfather had passed away hit you like a wave, stirring emotions you had long buried.

"I'm so sorry. What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to grasp Susan's hand for support.

Susan sighed her expression a mixture of sadness and frustration. "That silly old man's, I told him not to ride a horse, but he insisted and he fell," she explained, her tone tinged with regret. "Rupert always well-prepared, but I don't know why he really insisted on riding a horse that day."

Before you could respond, the sound of another voice broke through the somber atmosphere. "Thank God you're here," the voice exclaimed, drawing your attention. You turned to see your stepbrother, Charles, standing before you.

But your breath caught in your throat when you saw him wearing priestly attire. "Charles?" you uttered in disbelief, your eyes widening in surprise.

Charles opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm hug, his presence comforting despite the unexpected change in his appearance. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his handshake firm and sincere as he greeted you.

You were speechless, your mind struggling to process the transformation before you. There was a warmth in Charles's eyes, a genuine kindness that seemed to radiate from within him. He was different from the last time you saw him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him in his new role.

"Are you wearing a cassock?" you finally managed to ask, your voice filled with curiosity as you glanced at Charles's attire.

Susan gently pinched your arm, her expression amused yet reproachful. "Silly girl, this is why you should reply to my letters, phone calls, and emails," she chided gently. "Charles has become a priest."

"I know you will find it hard to believe. But I went through a miracle that made me fully believed in God." As Charles spoke of his newfound faith, you struggled to reconcile this revelation with the memory of Charlie, who once hurled harsh words at you.

Then you heard a familiar voice, cutting through the tension like a knife. "You're here."

It was Charlotte, Charles's twin sister. Her gaze bore into you with the same disdain it always had, unchanged after all these years.

Charlotte was never one to hide her feelings about you. From the moment your mother brought you into their lives, she had seen you as nothing more than an unwanted burden.

Your mother's marriage to the Duke had brought you into a world of privilege and resentment. While your stepfather had become a father figure you'd never had, it came at the cost of your relationship with your own mother. Susan was desperate to fit into her new role as Duchess, and you were often left feeling like an outsider in your own home.

The Duke's children, Charles and Charlotte, had quickly formed a bond with your mother, leaving you feeling like an intruder in your own family. They resented you for stealing their father's attention, and the tension between you had only grown over the years.

Living at Evergreen Abbey had always felt like walking on eggshells. That's why, as soon as you came of age, you left for the United States and joined the army, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of the manor.

Charlotte's cold gaze was a painful reminder of the resentment that had always simmered beneath the surface. "Let's get this over with, please," she said, her words dripping with disdain.

"What does it mean?" you asked, scanning the room for answers but finding only silence and the weight of years of unresolved conflict hanging heavy in the air.

You couldn't believe your eyes as Charles stood before you, now a priest leading your stepfather's funeral. Rupert's passing seemed surreal, and as they closed the casket, you had a chance to see his face one last time.

His face looked different, smiling unnaturally due to the glue used to preserve it. It starkly contrasted the smile you remembered, and you regretted not seeing Rupert one last time before this moment. Placing a red rose near his casket, you whispered, "I'm going to miss you."

During the burial, your gaze wandered, and you noticed a little boy standing near your mother.

But someone standing alone amidst the gathering of family and guests caught your attention. Who is he?

After the burial concluded, the house filled with guests offering condolences. The strange man also disappeared. Susan and Charles gracefully accepted their sympathies, while Charlotte's whereabouts only God knows.

Amidst the crowd, you heard a gentle voice call your name. "Y/N?"

Turning around, you saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie? How are you?" You greeted him with a side hug, grateful for the familiarity in the midst of the somber occasion.

Eddie hugged you back, offering his condolences as you shared a moment of solace amid the chaos of the gathering.

Eddie's inquiry about your military service brought back memories, including a long-kept secret: you used to have a crush on him. It was partly why you joined the army, sharing a dream of serving alongside him. "Yeah," you answered, still groggy from the day's emotions.

"What about you? Did you join the army too?"

Eddie chuckled. "I did, but I left to pursue a business."

You nodded, finding it fitting for him. "You're looking more like a duke these days."

Taking a sip of water, Eddie revealed a surprising truth. "I am. I became a duke after my father passed."

Your shock was evident. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Eddie's chuckle held a hint of understanding. "Yeah, after you left, you sort of cut contacts with everyone."

You hesitated, recalling the mention of a will by Cedric. "What about your family tradition? Isn't your older brother supposed to be the duke?"

Eddie's expression shifted slightly. "It changed after my father's will."

Your unease grew as thoughts of Rupert's will resurfaced. Eddie noticed your worry and reached out, touching your hand. "Hey, if you need me, just call me."

Grateful for his support, you managed a small smile. "Thanks, Eddie."

########

As everyone sat waiting for the lawyer, a new presence entered the room. A little boy, perhaps around 10 years old, joined the gathering, taking a seat beside Charlotte. He stole occasional glances in your direction, his curiosity evident in his wide-eyed gaze.

Unable to contain your surprise, you turned to Charlotte and asked, "You have a child?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes in response, her annoyance palpable, while Charles chuckled softly at the exchange.

Feeling a familiar pinch on your arm, you turned to see Susan giving you a reproachful look. "This is why you should've answered my calls. He's your brother," she scolded gently.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Huh?!" you exclaimed, your mind struggling to comprehend the revelation as you glanced back at the little boy sitting beside Charlotte, a newfound sense of connection dawning within you. Now his face and future look similar to yours.

You found yourself at a loss for words, grappling with the sudden revelation of a long-lost sibling. The realization that you had cut off all contact when you joined the army weighed heavily on your conscience, leaving you with a profound sense of regret for the years of missed connections and lost opportunities.

Running a hand through your face, you let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past 15 years bearing down on you like a heavy burden. "Will there be another surprise?" you wondered aloud, the question hanging in the air as you braced yourself for whatever other unexpected twists fate had in store for you.

A few minutes later, Cedric, the lawyer, strode into the room with purpose, placing his briefcase on the table before retrieving the file. With a solemn expression, he began to read aloud the contents of Duke Rupert's will.

"Everyone will get a share of his insurance and investments," Cedric announced, his voice measured and professional. "Except Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of resignation at the news, having expected as much given the strained dynamics within the family. Glancing around the room, you noted the acceptance in your mother's and the twins' expressions, as if they had anticipated this outcome.

But then, Cedric's next words shattered the calm facade that had settled over the room. "For the Evergreen Abbey Manor and the title, I hereby give it to Y/N L/N," he continued, his voice resolute.

Your shock was palpable, the expletive escaping your lips before you could stop it.

'HUH?!'

"What the fuck?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events as the weight of Duke Rupert's decision settled heavily upon you.

As Charles let out a disbelieving "Hoo," and Charlotte expressed her relief with a curt "Great, not my problem anymore," the tension in the room seemed to escalate.

'Wait. The twins aren't angry?'

Your mother reached out, gently squeezing your hand and offering a reassuring look, her silent support a comforting anchor amidst the chaos unfolding around you.

"Why do I feel like I'm carrying a bomb in my hand?" you muttered, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

Cedric adjusted his glasses, his expression grave as he spoke. "When you became the Lady of this house... Your grace, pardon me that I have to tell you this," he began carefully. "The former Duke had debts, and he was involved in what we might call 'creative' work."

"You mean drugs, gambling, and the like?" you interjected, your voice laced with disbelief.

Susan shot you a warning glance, her lips forming a silent reprimand. "You shouldn't say that word in front of your brother," she whispered, her tone urgent.

Turning to her younger son, she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not drugs, but weed," she clarified softly.

"Oh, wow. Now I feel relieved," you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you as you struggled to come to terms with the unexpected revelations about Duke Rupert's illicit activities.

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, the enormity of the situation sinking in. "How much is the debt?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"8 million pounds," Cedricbreplied solemnly, his tone grave.

Charles made the sign of the cross a gesture of disbelief. "Oh Lord," he murmured under his breath.

"And he wants me to repay the debt when I never took a single cent?" you exclaimed, incredulity coloring your words as you struggled to comprehend the injustice of it all.

"Was he high when he wrote the will? Why me?!!"

Sighing heavily, you turned your gaze towards the imposing manor, its grandeur now overshadowed by the weight of Duke Rupert's debts. "Can I just sell this manor?" you wondered aloud, desperation creeping into your voice.

"It will take months or years, Your Grace. And the debt has to be paid by the end of this month," Cedric explained, punctuated by a sense of urgency.

But before you could act on your impulse, Susan's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with urgency and apprehension. "You can't sell the manor," she interjected, her gaze pleading with you to reconsider.

Confusion flickered in your eyes as you turned to face her, a mix of frustration and resignation bubbling up inside you. "Why not?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Susan's response was swift, her words carrying the weight of years of pent-up frustration and resentment. "If you sell the manor, I would lose my title as a duchess," she explained, her voice quavering with emotion.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up memories of the strained relationship that had defined your interactions with Susan over the years. Her obsession with upholding the image of a perfect duchess had driven a wedge between you, leaving your relationship fraught with tension and resentment.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of Duke Rupert's debts and the expectations thrust upon you by your title, you couldn't help but feel a sense of bitterness creeping in.

You let out another sigh, resigned to the reality of the situation. "I need a drink," you muttered, the thought of seeking solace in the most potent alcohol near the lake seeming like the only reprieve from the turmoil raging inside you.

As you sat by the lake's tranquil waters, the weight of the situation bearing down on you, regret began to seep into your thoughts like a creeping mist.

Coming back here had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of Duke Rupert's debts and the burden they placed upon you, you couldn't help but wonder if it had been a mistake.

Taking a sip of your whiskey, you allowed the warmth of the liquid to wash over you, momentarily easing the turmoil in your mind. But even the soothing embrace of alcohol couldn't dispel the unease gnawing at your insides.

Lost in your thoughts, you were startled when a small figure approached, breaking the silence that had settled over the lakeside. You glanced up to see your little stepbrother, Hugo, standing before you with a tentative expression on his face.

"Uh, hi. Hello. I'm your older sister," you greeted awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

Hugo returned your greeting with a shy smile. "Hi, step-bro. Hugo. Ten years old," he introduced himself, his voice soft and uncertain.

An awkward silence hung between you, the gap between your worlds feeling vast and insurmountable. Sensing the tension, you made an effort to bridge the divide.

"You want to walk?" you offered, gesturing towards the path that wound its way around the edge of the lake.

Hugo hesitated for a moment before nodding hesitantly. "Hmm...," he murmured, his eyes brightening with a hint of curiosity as he took a tentative step forward, ready to embark on this uncertain journey with you.

As you and Hugo began to playfully throw stones into the lake, the tension between you gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie born from the simple joy of shared activity.

"So, Hugo, do you know what's happening at the household?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You had learned in the military that children often possessed an innate honesty that could shed light on complex situations.

Hugo paused in his stone-throwing, considering your question for a moment before responding. "Walls have ears, and the workers always gossip," he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with wisdom beyond his years.

Impressed by his insight, you couldn't help but smile. "Wow," you remarked, genuinely impressed by Hugo's observation. "Do you want to share?" you prompted, curious to hear his perspective on the goings-on within the household.

As Hugo shared his insights, you listened intently, surprised by the depth of understanding hidden behind his youthful facade.

"Charlie doesn't want to take the house because of the debt, and he wants to become a pope," Hugo explained matter-of-factly, his words carrying a weight of resignation.

You responded with a puzzled "Huh?"

"And Charlotte doesn't care since she's going to marry a prince. She doesn't want anything related to Dad's 'creative work.' It will ruin her image."

"Her image? She's marrying a prince?" you interjected, your incredulity evident in your tone.

Hugo regarded you with a knowing look. "You're really ignorant, huh?" he remarked bluntly, his words stinging with a hint of playful teasing.

Feeling a pang of embarrassment at being corrected by a child, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "Hey..." you started, but Hugo continued without missing a beat.

"Sis Charlotte has quite millions of followers on social media," he elaborated, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "If her name is connected to weed and family debt—"

"It will ruin her image, and she'll have to pay the penalty," you finished, the implications sinking in as you processed Hugo's words. "Wait, how old are you again?" you asked, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement at the maturity of his observations.

Hugo raised both hands, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Ten," he replied, the innocence of his youth juxtaposed against the weight of the knowledge he carried.

You chuckled softly, taking another sip of your whiskey as you observed Hugo with newfound respect. Children were indeed frighteningly perceptive these days, and you made a mental note to tread carefully around him in the future.

You looked at the lake and sighed again. No wonder Charlie felt relieved upon seeing you. He wouldn't have to worry about these things. If his past caught up with him while pursuing his path to becoming a pope, it would ruin everything for him.

As for Charlotte, nothing ever seems to be enough for her. If her future in-laws from the royal family were to find out about this business, they would likely cancel her marriage.

So it's obvious they were relieved when Rupert chose you as the heir.

As both of you made your way back home, your senses went on high alert as you spotted a black Range Rover parked near the entrance. The sight of the familiar car sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

He's the man who watched Rupert's funeral from afar.

"Hugo, go inside," you instructed quietly, your voice tinged with urgency as you gestured for him to retreat to the safety of the house.

The man who emerged from the car was none other than the same individual you had seen at the funeral. James Barnes, or "Bucky" as he preferred to be called, approached you with a confident stride, his demeanor exuding an air of authority.

"Sorry to disturb your afternoon walk," Bucky began, his voice smooth and polite. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm James Barnes, but you could call me Bucky."

You nodded in acknowledgment, your guard instinctively rising as you braced yourself for whatever news he had come to deliver. "How can I help you, Mr. Barnes?" you inquired, your tone guarded yet polite.

"It's difficult for me to say while you're still grieving," Bucky admitted, his expression sympathetic. "But the former duke owed money to us."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "You see, Mr. Barnes, I just got here two days ago after 15 years," you explained wearily, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at your revelation, his interest piqued. "Yeah, Rupert mentioned it a couple of times," he remarked casually.

"Did he?" you muttered under your breath, feeling a surge of annoyance at Duke Rupert's apparent penchant for gossip.

"Let's continue this at the office," you suggested tersely, eager to put some distance between yourself and the unsettling presence of James Barnes.

As you stepped into Rupert's office for the first time, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingling with the lingering scent of his cigar and the familiar musk that seemed to permeate the room. It was a scent you had grown accustomed to over the years, a reminder of the man who had once occupied this space.

Pouring another whiskey for yourself and a glass for Bucky, you couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy as you reflected on the memories associated with this room. Duke Rupert's presence seemed to linger in every corner, his larger-than-life persona casting a shadow over the space.

Bucky took a moment to savor the whiskey, his expression one of appreciation. "Your step-dad always did have a good collection of alcohol," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words as he raised his glass in a silent toast.

You nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in his words. Despite the complexities of his character, Duke Rupert had always taken pride in his impressive selection of drinks, a testament to his refined taste and penchant for the finer things in life.

Taking a sip of your drink, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence in the air. "Do you have business with my step-dad?" you asked, your tone cautious as you eyed Bucky across the desk.

Bucky's admission hung heavy in the air as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of responsibility and obligation.

"I lent him my money and I protected him," he explained, his tone tinged with a sense of duty.

"Why? His weed business didn't work out?" you asked, curiosity piqued by the revelation.

Bucky shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "It was successful. But he had a change of heart and wanted out. And his boss didn't like it. That's where I came in," he elaborated, his expression grave.

"Eight million pounds. Is all because of you?" you queried, the enormity of the debt now beginning to make sense.

Bucky tilted his head, his gaze meeting yours with a solemn intensity. "The price of the damage I got for protecting your step-dad. I gained more enemies," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

Setting down your whiskey glass, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Despite the tangled web of intrigue and deceit surrounding Duke Rupert, at least his involvement in the weed business was not the cause of his debts.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Options seemed limited, and each path forward appeared fraught with challenges and uncertainties.

Glancing at the bank statements and stock reports spread out on the desk before you, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Duke Rupert's financial situation was far from ideal, and the prospect of producing eight million pounds seemed increasingly daunting.

Your mother's reluctance to sell the manor only added to the complexity of the situation. Despite the financial burden it represented, the estate held sentimental value for her, serving as a tangible connection to Duke Rupert and the life they had built together.

The twins' indifference to the predicament only further highlighted the sense of isolation you felt in confronting this dilemma alone. But then your thoughts turned to Hugo, the youngest member of the family, and the realization dawned on you that the manor held a special significance for him as well.

Selling off the artwork and alcohol collection was a possibility, but the process would take time, and the prospect of navigating the complexities of the open market and taxation only added to the uncertainty.

With few options left to consider, you knew that your best course of action was to confront the man himself. Despite your reservations, you couldn't ignore the fact that Bucky held the key to unraveling the mystery of Duke Rupert's debts.

As the desire to return to the U.S. gnawed at you, a sense of urgency washed over you, driving you to seek resolution as quickly as possible. But with time ticking away and the weight of responsibility bearing on your shoulders, you knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices.

You sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling upon your shoulders. "What options do I have?

Bucky's smile was almost too slick, his finger pointing at you like a loaded gun. "I really like your attitude, Your Grace. Straight to the point," he remarked, his voice smooth as silk.

As he unbuttoned his suit and slid his hands into his pocket pants, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a dark cloud. "I'm also intrigued by your career as an expert in bombs," he continued, his words sending a chill down your spine.

A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you braced yourself for what was to come. "Go on," you replied tersely, the tension crackling in the air between you.

With a calculated gesture, Bucky brought his hands together, the glint of gold rings catching the light and adding an air of menace to his demeanor. "I will make the debt of 8 million pounds disappear. If you help me," he declared, his tone dripping with promise.

Your heart skipped a beat at the audacity of his offer, the implications of his words sinking in like a lead weight. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he finally spoke. "I've got more competition after I helped Rupert. Thinking about it gives me headaches. That's where you come in," he explained cryptically, his words laden with hidden meaning.

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The silence stretched between you, thick with tension, until Bucky finally broke it with a chilling revelation. "I want you to create an explosion. To get rid of them," he stated bluntly, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering intensity.

"Fuck!"

Cursing under your breath, you cast a wary glance at the painting of Rupert hanging on the wall. His eyes seemed to bore into you, judging your every move. As an army EOD technician, the thought of making a bomb for a criminal to pay off a debt filled you with a sense of dread.

Regret gnawed at you like a festering wound as you grappled with the weight of the decision before you. Coming back home had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of the situation, you couldn't help but wish you had never returned.

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.

(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

part 1. part 2. part 3.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.

⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)

you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.

you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.

it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.

you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.

opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.

you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!

you are supposed to love him! you have to!

and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.

now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.

claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.

leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.

you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.

he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.

he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.

by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.

cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.

you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.

"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.

"you're stuck with me to the end."

your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.

you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.

"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.

"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.

his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.

he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.

"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.

through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.

and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.

the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.

HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!

#this is the end hehe #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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chimivx · 1 year

Text

public occurrences. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader

summary: It's been almost a year since Vegas. As one would expect, life hasn't gotten any easier. If anything it's gotten even more chaotic. The world knows who you are now... There aren't anymore secrets to hide.

words: 6k

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS. use of cuss words, they talk of anxiety, some mental health situations, talks about a miscarriage, talks about Jin and other members leaving. other than that- not much else. If I missed anything PLEASE let me know.

a/n: CAN'T BELIEVE ANOTHER VEGAS IS HERE. Enjoy my loves. Thank you for all the love and support always. <3 It's just a short little drabble of one specific moment of time, but I thought it was pretty important.

~ the end of february 2023 ~

A dull pain begins to erupt where you’ve had your jaw clenched for the last twenty minutes. A soreness in your jaw you’re not quite sure will ever be able to go away. For the past few months it’s found itself in this compromised position.

Your entire body is made of steel, your joints creaking as you attempt to pull yourself together amidst the panic ensuing within your nervous system. Limbs heavy to the point you aren’t sure whether or not you’ll be able to exit the vehicle.

Breathe in, breathe out. The words repeat.

Breath in, breathe out. It made you want to sing Hobi’s song. Inhale, inhale, exhale, exhaaale. But there was no time for fun. Not when you were about to walk outside in front of cameras for the first time in eight years.

The morning was spent in a blur, the attempts to perfect your hair and makeup happening at an hour too early, much like how you rolled out of bed. An hour too early. You were awake before your daughter even had the chance to stir.

Anxiety had been simmering beneath your skin for weeks. You could barely eat, the nausea would rip through you violently. Again, for the past few months that’s how life has been, nausea, anxiety, melancholy thoughts and dreams, however this event seemed to be adding twice as much. These past few days you’ve probably accumulated a total of nine hours of sleep. You had more shuteye the week after your daughter's birth.

There seemed to be a butterfly effect from the events in Vegas. The incident that caused countless meetings and endless discussions because the company just couldn’t handle anymore media control or protection. You should never have trusted that girl.

BigHit took their time, the company drug out the announcement as long as they could so it would surpass Jin’s deployment and your goddamn wedding. Now, with it being the end of February, Yoongi’s been traveling absolutely everywhere for basketball games, photoshoots, and he’s announced a tour… It was about to happen. For the very first time in eight years you were officially about to be on camera, branded by flashes, posted online permanently, forever going to be seen and known as Min Yoongi’s wife.

Next to you, Yoongi grips your knee tight, in hopes to settle your worries. Glancing down to his knobby hand you sigh and suck in a deep breath.

“We’ll be fine,” he said softly. Meeting his comforting gaze, you attempt to smile, one that makes him laugh. “I promise. Remember everything we talked about?”

You do. Of course you do. It’s been playing on repeat for one hundred and sixty eight hours.

That’s how many hours are in a week. You had to google that.

When this entire plan was set in place you requested a play by play, a step by step tutorial- a rehearsal even! You were walking out into the public eye with your child for the first time. People knew who you were now.

There were going to be cameras, and fans, and paparazzi, and loud noises, and people rushing you, and standards to follow. It was all too much, it all seemed to be entirely too much. You were going to have a toddler on your hip, one who could barely stand to be in a room full of people her father worked with let alone god knows how many strangers at an airport.

“What happens first?” Yoongi asked, reaching for one of your hands to tangle his fingers with yours. He could feel your panic. “Tell me the first thing we’re going to do.”

Gulping, you respond, “Park.” Looking up at his short hair that you’re livid with- his long hair was dreamy, and sexy, and you could pull it- you receive another laugh. He hadn’t expected you to be so literal.

“Good, we’ll park,” he praised. “And then what?” Tipping his chin down his eyes widened a bit, becoming all the more endearing.

“Then, Branson and his team get out,” you said, feeling a bit better looking into his eyes. Yoongi gives you a soft smile, dragging his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Has Branson ever let you down?”

“Never,” you whispered. Almost nine incident free years with the man, after Yoongi, you depended on.

Your husband leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Exactly,” he said. “What happens next?”

Going through the last three simple steps, everything seemed ready to go to plan. Once Branson was ready, you were going to take your daughter out of her carseat, exit the car, and follow the men inside. You would be the one to carry your daughter, just in case. People were unpredictable in these situations, and Yoongi agreed that if something were to happen to him here, you should be the one to carry her inside. As much as that little comment terrified you to hear him say, he was right.

Simple as pie. You hoped.

In a perfect world that’s how it would happen, and you want nothing more than for this to go smoothly.

People knew your name. Everyone has found out that it’s been years. The company was prepared for mass destruction, and so were you and Yoongi. A first public appearance, this is where it would all go to shit. There isn’t much chaos people can fully ensue over the internet.

As for your friends, the two of you personally asked them to stay out of it and at the drop of a hat they agreed. The five boys and Sunny shook on it. No one would say a word publicly, no one would do any interviews, no tweets, no Instagram posts, no stories pushed, no Weverse comments. Silence. Radio silence.

Jin has most definitely heard what has happened, and the next time you and Yoongi get to see him, there will be tea to spill. Your heart aches whenever you think about him, especially for Yoongi. He’s had to go through this madness and so much more without his best friend.

The week after he left was complete and utter hell for your family. And not just because of Jin.

Pushing aside all thoughts of having to redo the motions with Hobi very soon, you come to realize that steps one and two of the plan have already commenced.

The black SUV was parked in front of the airport, and Branson and his team were setting themselves up. Through the dark tinted windows there are crowds upon crowds of people, masses of them so large one would think the entire band was here. It reminded you of a concert, they were all waiting in groups with their phones out, pointing them at the vehicles that you and your team were in.

Slapping your hand on top of Yoongi's, you grip it tight, digging your nails into his palm. He places his other right on top of yours.

“I can’t do it,” you mumbled, whipping your head to shoot him a terrified look.

Yoongi smiles, though your fear threatens to crack him. If this wasn’t ordered by the company he’d whisk you away to safety, getting inside the airport without a soul knowing. He’s broken these rules before, going against what his company wants for your sake, it’s been eight years of you coming first, you topping all things that have to do with his job.

Now that the gig was up, now that people knew who you were and knew that it’s been forever, he feels as though he owes it to his fans to do a three minute appearance. As much as he was deeply in love with you, he loved his fans almost as much. He wanted to show you off, he wanted the world to see who’s been keeping him sane all this time, who’s been the source of his happiness for years.

“Yanno, the last time you told me that you seemed to handle everything just fine,” he said, glancing at your sleeping daughter beside you. Blowing a gust of air through your lips, you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t have to do any work, D, they cut her out of me,” you grilled back, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t-” your words are cut off by a sudden short breath. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” escapes you in a whisper.

Branson taps his fist on the window a couple of times gently, signaling that he was ready for the three of you to come out. The murmurs from the crowds can be heard, leaking through the cracks in the doors, swarming around you constricting your chest.

Yoongi slips an arm around your back, holding you against him tight. Burying your face into his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and takes a deep breath. You can feel his beating heart steady between his lungs. This was just another day for him. He’s had ten years to grow used to this.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” he said softly. Peeking up at him, you frown.

“What?” you question, lowering your brows. He nods a couple of times, giving you a small smile.

“I was afraid this was going to happen, because I knew this was going to happen,” he said.

“Me freaking out, right?” you sighed, your tone completely breathless. A soft hum leaves his chest as he ponders what you’ve said, then he shakes his head. “What?” you question again with more vigor.

“Well,” he huffs a gentle laugh, “I figured something along the lines of that would happen, but only ‘cause of her,” he nods to your daughter, “Not because you’re scared of going out there. You’re only worried for her. If it were seven years ago you think you’d feel this way?”

Shaking your head to answer him, the electricity coursing through your veins seems to subside.

“Exactly,” he smirked. “Before her you were dancing in the streets before my shows, you were talking to people, my fans! You were prancing around stadiums and concerts like it was nothing.”

“I loved doing that,” you smiled.

“Fuck yeah, you loved doing that,” he said, giving you the smallest shake. “And, you know what? It’s not just you going out there as my wife, right? They know what you’ve done for us, they know what you’ve made for us.”

Your smile starts to grow. He was right. The fans, the people, they loved your work. The music videos, the art, the TinyTan, the creative concepts, the photoshoots, all of it. They finally knew that it was you. The ghost creator had been unveiled.

“You probably have fans of your own,” Yoongi said matter of factly. “I guarantee you all these people are here for you, not me.” Frowning humorously, you make him laugh.

“Doubt that,” you said flatly.

“Alright, half and half,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We can do this, you can do this. We’re doing it together, like we do everything. We’ll get through this together. We always do. Just think, next time we see Jin we have to tell him all about this, he’ll never believe it.”

Averting your eyes from his, your mind is suffocated by the many, many things you’re going to have to tell Jin when you’re with him again, which you’re hoping is soon. So much has happened, so much has changed, and it’d only been about three months.

“Yeah,” you whispered, flickering your eyes up to Yoongi who’s flashing you a curious look. “He probably still thinks I’m pregnant.”

A flash of discomfort wrecks his expression for all of two seconds as he glances away from you with a breath. Swallowing hard, he relaxes his face and looks back at you, his lips pressed together tight.

“He, uh,” he began in a whisper, “He... knows.” Before you have a chance to say anything, the subtle shock on your face telling him plenty, he cuts you off. “I’m sorry, baby. I had to tell him, it’s Jin, that’s my best friend, he’s the only one I could even say the words to.”

Sitting up a bit, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, dragging your thumb over his smooth skin. “D, it’s okay,” you reassured him, bobbing your head. His lips form a pout, one that gets you to giggle. “I promise, it’s okay.”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two of you, feelings swirling around the empty air as you both choose what to do or say next. Yoongi leans into you, kissing your forehead once more before placing his own there.

“You’re so incredible,” he said, watching you flutter your eyes shut. “The strongest woman I know, the most talented woman I know. On top of having such a beautiful, creative mind, you’re a fucking fantastic mother.” Yoongi pauses, taking a deep breath, as do you. “He was lucky to have you for as long as he did.”

A lump lodges in your throat. Scrunching your face, you shake your head, rubbing your forehead to his.

“Don’t make me cry,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty.

“Cry?” a tiny voice speaks up from your right, a yawn of the same intensity coming out of her straight after. Popping your eyes open you share a small smile with your husband, and just as you’re about to turn to your little one, Yoongi slips a hand beneath your chin, holding you in place.

“Hey,” his voice is soothing. “I love you.” Your heart flutters.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, accepting the quick kiss he gives you.

Turning to the carseat that has secured a permanent spot in this car, you smile at your daughter who has her head turned toward you and her father. Her sleepy eyes entice a happy hum from you.

“You were supposed to sleep through this,” you said sarcastically sweet. Yoongi chuckles, unbuckling from his seat. The clang of the metal on the door makes your heart skip a beat.

“No,” your daughter said. “No sleep. All done.” Her voice is tiny, and slightly broken, and not hitting all of the right sounds, but her speech has only been improving. The two of you speak to her like she’s a human being, saving the baby voices for when she’s feeling silly, which can attest to her strong vocabulary and understanding of conversation.

You’re beginning to think she is a genius like her father.

“Mama, up,” she cooed, reaching out her arms that were finally starting to get a little chubby. Her cheeks had caught up to her as well, they were finally perfectly pinchable.

Freeing her from the car seats restraints, your daughter aids you in her escape, launching herself forward and up into your arms with a shout.

“Oh!” she giggles once her arms are around your neck and her face is buried in your hair.

“Oh!” you and Yoongi copy her, to which she responds with another shout.

Her attentive eyes point out the window when she sits herself up, tapping on your shoulder a couple of times with her palm. Lifting a hand, she tries to point at the crowds of people.

“Where?” she asked curiously, looking to either of her parents for an answer. Her voice turned you into a complete puddle, the sound coming out as ‘Wheh?’, the middle syllable is even more pronounced when she questions the two of you again.

Yoongi brings a hand to her forehead, brushing away a few dark hairs that fell into her eyes. The girl hated bows, you stopped trying.

“We’re at the airport,” he told her, and she listened with all of her might. “We’re going on a plane, isn’t that fun? You like flying.” Her eyes blink a few times, taking her time to process the words.

Sighing aloud, dramatically of course, she glances out the window and mumbles a jumble of sounds. Following her gaze, you gulp.

Eager eyes of bystanders attempted to shatter the glass of the tinted windows.

“Mama,” your daughter said, looking at you. “Go, Mama,” she bounced once. “Go,” she bounced twice. You knew the moment you stepped out into the noise and the flashing lights that she would have a meltdown, but you admired her desire to get out of the car. Yoongi was right, she loved flying, it was her second favorite thing right now. Securely at number one was Jungkook, for a year and seven months. That spot was unattainable for anyone else.

“Shall we?” Yoongi offered, watching you fiercely, letting you take the lead. He waited patiently for your answer, heaving a sigh of relief when you finally gave him a tentative nod of your head.

“Dada, go,” your daughter babbled. “Mama, go. Dada, go. Mama, go.”

Sharing a laugh with Yoongi, you take a long deep breath and tighten your grip around her back, holding her in front of your chest. Smiling at you, your baby touched a hand to your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered to her. She leans her head toward you and puts her nose on yours.

“Ah-luh-oo,” she tried her best to repeat. Stealing a kiss from her, you let Yoongi press a thousand to her cheek to make her giggle, and then it’s time.

Everything seems to move in slow motion, your vision tunneling as your husband opens the car door. Pulling a mask over his face, he sends you a reassuring wink before he rounds the vehicle.

Screams erupt from every corner of the space, and shouting from the team can already be heard. Strict shouting, like things were getting crazy already. Your daughter’s eyes are wide as she looks out the windows and up at you. Her curiosity has been swapped for a little bit of fear.

You couldn’t let her see you panic.

Sliding off of the leather seat and onto the concrete of the airport lot, you pull a mask over your own face and instantly slip a hand to the back of your baby's head. Her legs were wrapped around your torso, and the moment you stepped outside her arms clung around your neck for safety. You already had a suspicion that you weren’t going to have to actively try to hide her face, she would want to do that herself.

Your bags were already taken care of, there wasn’t anything else you needed to grab from the car other than your child and yourself. Everything else would be taken care of for you.

With another deep, dramatic breath, you hold your daughter close, allowing her to bury her face into your neck, and you circle the car like Yoongi had. Upon rounding the back, cameras that were already flashing began to flash faster, quicker. Wide eyed and stunned by the greeting of screams, you barely have time to process anything before Branson grabs your arm.

It’s a gentle tug, one to help keep you on track. He pulls you close to him, staying one step ahead of you as you wait for a couple of seconds in front of the car. Glancing amongst the crowd, it’s mainly full of paparazzi and probably some journalists. Behind the tall men and their cameras you can see the fans, the ones holding up their phones and jumping up and down trying to catch a glimpse at the commotion.

Airport security guards held some people back, though no one seemed to be trying to push through excessively, which was your main fear.

“Another minute here,” Branson said to you, leaning into your ear. “They need photos, then we go.” Nodding, you peek down at your girl who was content clinging to her mother and hiding from the chaos. A sound of admiration rips through the crowd as you stroke her back, one that surprises you.

Up ahead, close to the doors, Yoongi was walking backward slowly, watching you. His fans twisted their heads side to side, from him, to you, and back again. To spice things up a bit, he gives you a wave, and everyone goes nuts.

You can’t help but laugh at him, eyes crinkling at the sides. For some reason you had thought he’d treat you differently when you were outside, but aside from following the rules, he was still your husband. He points to the baby on your chest and questions you with a thumbs up. Another giant ‘Awh!’ rolls through the chattering crowd.

Sending a thumbs up back, the fans laugh, and cheer. Then, your heart plummets to your stomach.

From somewhere within the crowd your name is shouted. And then again. Before you knew it, the entire crowd wanted your attention. Overwhelmed, feeling utterly insane, your eyes well up with tears. You're unable to make out anything else they’re saying though, there were too many people talking at once, and to you, that was a good thing.

God forbid anybody had anything bad to say. You’ve heard it before, but you don’t need to live it in real time.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. Branson leans into you again, questioning what you’ve said. Turning to him, you smile and repeat, “Holy shit!”

“You’re okay?” he asked, gently putting a hand over your shoulder blade.

“I- I think so?” you said to him, raising your voice over the crowd that was only getting louder. Glancing down to your daughter who’s little fists were attempting to rip holes in your sweater, you send a look to Yoongi, and he stops walking all together. Bundled up in the safety of her mothers arms wasn’t enough for the baby, she needed to be out of this situation immediately. “Branson we have to go.”

“I don’t have the signal yet, we need Yoongi inside before we move forward,” he said. Frowning, you knew the man was just doing his job, but a cry from your daughter flipped a switch within you.

“We need to go,” you insisted, shooting him a glare. Cradling the back of her head, you press your masked lips to her hair and take a deep breath, hoping she’d feel as much of your love as possible.

“Go! Get him inside,” Branson spoke into the tiny walkie he carried on his chest, gesturing toward the door with persistence.

The crowd, now roaring, and growing larger, began to push. The barriers that were blocked by guards were spilling over the edge.

Branson placed a hand to the top of your shoulder and held onto you tight. Grabbing the little speaker, he spoke clearer. “We need to move forward, and we cannot do that if you cannot get him indoors.”

Up ahead your husband was watching you with a heated gaze. His attention didn’t deter from you once. His heart twisted when you cradled your daughter, when he saw Branson begin to get defensive. The hand that was placed protectively on your shoulder could make him scream, and the team behind him, calling after him to get him to step inside the airport made his thoughts fuzzy.

What the hell was he doing? Why would he ever allow the two of you, the most important people in his life, why would he allow you to do it alone? This was the very first time you’ve done this, and he’s realized now that he’s made the biggest mistake.

Forgetting everything he was told, everything he’s learned, Yoongi bounds toward you, using the fast paced walk that his fans clown him for. They absolutely lose their minds, the people around you.

Wide eyed and shocked, you’d never think he’d break the rules on this one, you sigh in relief when he reaches your side. An arm wraps around your shoulder, Yoongi closing you in front of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you asked, giving your head a small shake.

Your husband smiles, reaching up to pull his mask off of his face, removing yours as well.

“Not letting you do it alone,” he said to you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. As you could’ve guessed, the collective lost their minds.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” you smiled up at him, laughing as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

“You two are always worth it,” he said. “Now, c’mon,” he stepped aside to hold you behind your back, keeping you tucked beneath his arm. Using his other hand he rubbed the baby’s back and gave her cheek a quick kiss, happy to find that once he joined you two she had calmed down. “Let’s go see Kookie.”

Her head shot right up with enormous dark eyes full of stars. “Koo-hee?!”

“Koo-hee!” Both you and Yoongi copy her tiny voice, making her giggle with the silly smiles you flash at her.

The world around you seemed to melt away the second you were in your husband's arms, like all of a sudden you had the strength to handle anything the world would have thrown at you. His grip around your body as he walked with you into the airport was enough to silence the crowd, and power your legs to get through the doors without an incident.

A mere twenty minutes later, the three of you were seated on the plane, your daughter snoozing soundly on her fathers chest while you scrolled through your phone, curious to see what the internet has had to say of your appearance already. Resting his head on your shoulder, Yoongi followed along, making a sweet comment at every single photo of you.

“Oh, that one is the best,” he said quietly, your Twitter scroll stopping on a picture of the three of you before you walked off. The big, genuine, happy smiles you and Yoongi wore were priceless as you grinned at your baby girl, one whose face didn’t make it into any photos- thank the good Lord that somebody believes in. “You should post that one.”

Giving him a sideways glance, you huff a gentle laugh. “To my Instagram? It’s just gone public, you want me to blow it up even more?”

Yoongi tips his chin up, flashing you pouty puppy dog eyes. “I just want them all to know you’re mine. Both of you. I want everyone to know I’m yours, and I always have been.” You gave his forehead a kiss.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll post it. Her face isn’t in any of these, so I can post as many as I want.”

Settling comfortably on your shoulder once again, Yoongi gave you caption advice for the post- an emoji that seemingly had nothing to do with the photo… But, you used it anyway. The angel emoji, with a halo and little wings.

“That one’s perfect,” he whispered, tapping on it for you.

“If you say so,” you smiled. Yoongi sat up a bit, carefully to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “You always pick the random ones.”

“Every single one I use means something,” Yoongi gazed at you fiercely. “That little guy,” he pointed to the angel, “That makes four of us.”

Your lips parted in surprise, unsure of what to say. That week in December devastated you both. Your stomach flips while you watch him study your face. The whirlwind life you live hasn’t given either of you proper time to process, or grieve.

“Baby,” he whispered, closing the space between you to touch his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to post it if you don’t want to.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes welling with tears, you furrow your brows. “What did I do wrong,” escaped you in an exasperated gust of air. Yoongi shifted, wrapping an arm around your back.

“No,” he said, putting on his strong facade. “We don’t do that, we’ve talked about this. You know there wasn’t anything you did wrong. There wasn’t anything I did wrong. You heard the doctor say it, baby, multiple times. You gave him the perfect home, you’re healthy.” Yoongi paused to gauge where you were, praying that you were listening to him.

You respond after a few seconds, bobbing your head. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat.

“It just wasn’t his time,” he whispered. “He wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah,” you whispered fast. Yoongi’s thumb found your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“And, you remember the last time we were there, they said we could try again whenever we were ready,” he said. The end of last month you had a check-up with your doctor, just to make sure things were back to normal, and that your body was holding up alright. Your second pregnancy was a surprise, much like the first, you and Yoongi haven’t seemed to learn your lesson. However, losing your son before you had even gotten the chance to hold him in your arms put a lot of things into perspective for the two of you.

There were routine check-ups, you were eating better- both of you! This second child was something that you and your husband both wanted, and though each of your emotions have been through the wringer… You would be willing to try again when you felt like you could handle it.

“I want to,” you whispered. Yoongi smiled, but you could see his own worries within it. “I know, I feel the same way.”

“Together,” he cuts off the nervousness quickly. “We’ll do it together.”

“Uh, we kinda have to,” you giggled, making him laugh.

“I can’t wait,” he sing-songed through clenched teeth with a grin, stealing a kiss from you. Yoongi backs away from you to check on your sleeping daughter who hasn’t made a peep. He was surprised she had let her eyes shut while she was beside the window, normally she’d be gazing out at the clouds passing by.

Picking your phone up off of your lap, you smile at the angel emoji and click post, letting the notifications flood in like wildfire. This was all brand new. You were allowed to make your Instagram public about a week ago, and since then you’ve reached four million followers, while you used to have forty-six. Silencing the notifications from the app, every photo you’ve ever posted amassed an incredible amount of likes. Your feed was a feast, and the public was hungry.

Four million followers and counting. The number was only going to get bigger.

Watching the photo gain twenty thousand likes whenever you refreshed the page, you nudged Yoongi’s shoulder to show him what was happening, and when he turned his head to look, an unknown number you’ve never seen before popped onto your screen, calling you.

“What the…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi snatched the phone from your hand and quickly snapped a photo of the screen with his own, then he silenced yours and went into it, blocking the number who tried to reach you. He called Branson over and showed him the photo, letting the head of security take his phone with him.

“Trace this, or, do something. Tell me who's number this is,” his voice is stern, on alert.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you said, laying your head down on his shoulder. “People get scam calls all the time.”

“Not us,” he said, tone flat.

Not even ten minutes passed before Branson came back, kneeling on the row of chairs in front of your family. He placed his elbows on the head rests and took a deep breath, darting his eyes back and forth from Yoongi to yours.

“Well?” Yoongi asked. Branson handed him his phone and frowned.

“Uh,” he stumbled over a few words, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “We, um… The phone number belongs to your mother.” His voice is hushed, quiet, like he was afraid to tell you, when in actuality he was afraid to tell Yoongi. Touchy subject. Especially now.

There had been a restraining order set in place since the day after your daughter's first birthday. Yoongi held the meetings and took care of everything, all you had to do was sign.

Neither one of your parents were allowed to contact you, speak to you or your daughter, or try to see you in person. They were not allowed to mail anything to you, send anyone to see you in place of themselves, nor were they allowed to be in touch with anyone close to you. Sunny included. You had to make a list.

Expecting him to jump out of his seat, you stretch a hand over his lap and grab his other hand, the one on your daughter's back. Sitting up, you turn toward him ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. It had not faltered. He was stone faced, and you were sick to your stomach.

“Sue her,” he said. Turning to you, he sighed. “We’re changing your number again.”

“D, come on, it’s not like-”

“I don’t care,” he said, peering down to admire his daughter. “She clearly hasn’t gotten the message that you don’t want anything to do with her.” He pointed his focus back to Branson. “Fight it. Do what you can.”

“Got it,” the guard said, and whisked himself away.

It’s quiet for a moment before Yoongi said, “Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” you said, and he raised a brow, giving you a funny look. “It’s just… Super annoying to give everyone a new phone number for the third time.” Both your lips turn up into a smile. “Sue the bitch, I don’t care, D.” Yoongi laughs. “Just don’t make me change my number again, I beg of you.”

“Alright,” he said. “No new number. BUT!” His raised volume made your daughter stir. “One more thing happens, you’re changing it.” The little one lifted her head, blinking a few times before she grinned at her father.

“Fine,” you whispered, not that he was paying attention anymore anyway. Your daughter took his full focus, and all of his kisses.

It seemed silly to just now realize that today was something of a confirmation of the last eight years. Living your life, being a secret to millions of others, while you and the people you cared most about knew, was nice, and secure, and peaceful. But, now… Now that everyone knew, the peace grew. It swallowed you whole, engulfing you and your family with stability and ease.

No more accidental reveals. No more false stories. No more rumors the company had to shut down. No more hiding.

You were absolutely free, and for now, that was everything.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

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bi-disaster-yn · 2 years

Text

Tread Carefully

Pairing: neighbour!Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is used to being led on and then let down in love which leads to her not quite believing just how much Peter likes her.

Set after the events in No Way Home! As always, Peter is aged up to be in his early-mid twenties.

A/N: This one goes out to the all the girls who have been made to feel crazy when they’ve been led on by someone who suddenly loses interest. You are valid and you deserve so much better (and someone like Peter in this fic <3)!!

Feedback & reblogs are always appreciated <3

Whilst others seem to fall into love quite easily, for you it was always like trying to catch fire in a jar. Never successful, getting burned in the process and eventually the jar melting with all the exposure to further render your attempts useless.

Such carelessness with your emotions had led you to a solitary existence. The mere suggestion of reciprocated feelings had made you strategic and forceful, putting pressure on every encounter with a prospective lover in hopes that one day you might secure love.

Naturally, the pressure would snap any cord of bond you might have with someone and there you were, left again without any recourse. A scorned woman.

This wasn’t always your fault. Often, you’d bestow your emotions upon someone unworthy. Gaslighted with a promise of something real, you’d pursue these people only to be bitterly disappointed with a frank conversation where they confessed that you were great but all the same, not good enough.

Enter Peter Parker, your sweet neighbour who moved in next door a few months ago and brought with him a little spark that had you giddy.

The day he had moved in, he just seemed so out of his depth and alone. With the door open, he’d stood in the middle of his apartment looking round at the admittedly small number of boxes he had. Nevertheless, he looked entirely overwhelmed and frozen, struggling to even take the first step to open any of them.

You’d just finished grocery shopping as you walked past, peering in quickly when you came across the open door. From where you were standing, viewing his slumped shoulders and helpless face, it looked like he was going to cry. He looked so lost and you were sure that your help was exactly what he needed.

So, you came to the rescue. Announcing your presence, you offered your help which he reluctantly accepted. One by one, you worked your way through the boxes and worked together to set out his things the way he’d like them. At first, he was wary of you but grew more comfortable as you took things at his pace, never pressuring or hastening him.

You cooked him dinner, noting that his fridge hadn’t been stocked up yet. He asked you for coffee the next day as a thank you.

Coffee dates became dinner dates which naturally slipped into taking turns to make dinner for each other every night. He was so convenient being next door and had explained being new to the area that he had no one else really. Naturally, he gradually began to intertwine himself within your plans until you had become inseparable. Not that you minded, you hadn’t been this infatuated in a long time.

You did everything “right”.

You nurtured your feelings, trying to keep them on a leash to prevent them leaping out of control. You were calm and collected around him, allowing yourself to freak out about him after you said goodbye for the night. You made allowances for him in your plans yet didn’t hedge your bets on having to actually plan around him.

Yet, you still expected him to let you down. Some dark, twisted and nasty corner of your brain still told you that you were holding on to false hope. You had let people in before only to have them ridicule you for ever thinking that something could happen. For all you knew, Peter could be - and probably was - just the same as the rest of them.

Although, surprisingly, he hadn’t let you down to date. He always turned up on time when he said he would, except for that one rare exception that he had to cancel. Even at that, he was following up with you to reschedule and even planned and paid for the whole date because he felt so bad about having to miss your plans.

He let you touch him and he allowed himself to touch you. When your thighs lingered as you sat next to each other, he didn’t move away or sit in clear discomfort. Contentedly, he’d continue his story while you sat, completely mesmerised by the fact he’d allowed you a crumb of intimacy with just a simple gesture.

When this inevitably went downhill, it was going to kill you.

***

Winter had taken over the city. The restaurants and shops below your apartment had started to decorate their storefronts with festive lights which teamed up with the streetlights to create a cosy light in a cruelly cold and dark night.

It was Peter’s turn to cook that night. He stood at the stove making mac and cheese in plaid pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt that although oversized, still managed to show his muscular shoulders.

You sat on his couch flicking through Netflix to find a suitable Christmas movie for your night in. As the snow began to fall outside, you wrapped the blanket round you tighter and excited yourself with the idea of cuddling up to Peter to keep warm. Peter hummed as he plated up the food; it was his Aunt May’s recipe and he’d raved about it for weeks, insisting he would make it for you.

You tried not to read into the fact he was letting you into something he’d shared with his aunt who had been more like his mother. Nor did you read into the fact that the blanket wrapped round you was one you hadn’t been able to stop touching in the store because of how soft it was. He’d bought it so he could see the big grin on your face as you smoothed your hands down it.

“You really love that thing, don’t you?” Peter commented with a sweet smile as he handed you the plate.

“It’s just so soft! How did they make it so soft?” You beamed in response.

“I don’t know, but you look really cute with it wrapped round you.” He smiled, facing the TV and taking a bite before saying the all too familiar yet equally dreadful sentence.

“I think we should talk.”

It was so out of left field and so unexpected. The horrible yet familiar feeling of dread sat deep in your stomach and destroyed your earlier appetite for a home cooked meal. Setting your plate down, you took a deep breath in anticipation of what he was going to say next. You had to give it to him, ending this over his beloved aunt’s recipe was a new low in your experience of rejections.

“Sure.” Was the only response you could muster without it sounding like you were dying inside at the very notion Peter could end all of this.

“Well, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now, right?”

Oh God. This really was it. Now was the time for the usual chat. He’d come out with some drawl about how even though you had spent every day together, ate together, slept together, treated each other like boyfriend and girlfriend, that it was of course, casual and you were irrational to think anything different. In the heat of the moment, frenzied by embarrassment, you’d agree and tell him you’d even prefer to be friends. Then over the coming months, the dejection would slowly eat away at you as you’d overanalyse the memories and consider what you should have looked for to ascertain that this would never be a serious relationship. Good enough for a fling, but not quite enough for a substantive commitment.

It was going to be a long and lonely winter.

“Yeah, two and a half months to be exact.” You stated, as if for a court record to build your case on just how much of your time he had wasted before he was about to throw this genuine and beautiful connection away. Peter merely chuckled at your matter-of-fact manner, oblivious to your serious tone.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend?” He asked nervously, watching you with a hopeful smile.

Admittedly, your reaction was in fact, irrational.

“Sorry, WHAT?!” You yelled back, so taken aback by the question. It was what you wanted to hear but not at all what you expected.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Peter tried to explain, clearly self-conscious by his choice of timing and now considering what seemed to be a real possibility of you rejecting him. “I just thought that I really love what we have and I wanted to make it official but if you feel differently then-“

You cut him off before he could go any further by lunging over and wrapping your arms round his neck tightly. You held him like he would disappear if you let go. The longer you held on, the more tangible his question became and the more likely you were being validated that this whole thing wasn’t just a one-sided and bittersweet liaison, doomed to fail from the beginning.

Peter chuckled, managing to set his plate down on the coffee table, despite you clinging on to him like a koala. He settled back against the couch, rubbing his hand up and down your back soothingly while you sat still, completely incapable of letting go.

“So… is that a yes?” Peter asked with slight concern in his voice as he tried to measure how long you had been silent for.

“Of course, it’s a yes! I thought you were going to end this!” You confessed. Peter frowned at your response, unsure where you could ever have gotten that idea from. He had tried so hard to not be one of those asshole guys and not lead you on. He started to question whether he should have done anything differently.

“Why would you think that?” His question came with a sweet kiss to your temple. Despite you holding him hostage with a cuddle, he seemed quite content.

The heat of embarrassment claimed your cheeks causing you to nuzzle your face into his neck. This should have been a really happy and carefree moment between you both, and hopefully the beginning of many years together. Yet, your insecurities and past emotional injuries had tainted this.

Perhaps, sharing your intense fear and feelings was going to be too much for Peter. Still, if he was going to be in a relationship with you, he ought to know the truth.

“I just…” You began, sitting back to look him in the eye. “I just never get asked that question.”

Peter looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sadness. His eyebrows furrowed in contemplation and he let out a silent “oh”. At first, you thought he was pitying you but then you came to realise that he was just appreciating how big of a deal this was for you.

“I always seem to be the practise run or the casual fling. I never seem to be enough to be the girlfriend. You know?” At this, Peter nodded silently and reached his hand out for you to hold which you gladly took.

“And with you, I’ve been trying so hard not to get overexcited or put too much pressure on you but I really like you, Peter! I’ve been terrified that you’ve wanted to end this for a while now.” You explained further, watching him get confused.

“What did I do that made you think that?” Peter mumbled, his own fears and guilt setting into him. He had been trying so hard to let people in and to think that he was potentially failing was more than a tough pill to swallow.

“Nothing.” You said simply, because it was the truth. He had done nothing wrong.

“It’s just, I let you into my apartment, which was supposed to be just mine. I talked to you about Aunt May, which was really hard for me but I trusted you with it. I… I fell asleep on you. I felt safe enough with you to sleep soundly. I just don’t think I could have done anymore to let you know I was interested.”

The lump in Peter’s throat was evident with his words. This poor, sweet boy had no idea that this was so much bigger than him. It was an injury to your very being that had attached itself to you for all time coming. In truth, Peter had opened up to you and had let you in. On the other hand, all of those boys had done the same thing. They fed you with private and emotional insights then cut off the supply when you dared tried to establish a deeper emotional connection. How were you to tell the difference?

“Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just, not all guys are as genuine as you. They mess with our heads and then call us crazy.” You explained calmly, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles lightly. The words took purchase in Peter’s body and he nodded at you, slightly embarrassed.

“I am sorry you’ve been through that. I just really liked you and wanted to let you in. I have meant it all and I’d really like for you to be my girlfriend.” He smiled, reaching his other hand out to caress your cheekbone. An excited and surprise giggle escaped your lips.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Peter.” You leaned in and kissed him deeply, putting your hands on his cheeks. His hands found your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap. You gladly obliged, not once breaking the kiss. It wasn’t catching fire in a jar. Rather, it was gathering water that easily streamed into the jar – filling it up and adapting to the shape of its keeper without any threat of burning or melting; secured simply with a screw top lid. It was different, fresh and easy.

“Okay,” Peter chuckled as he finally pulled away from the kiss. “Can you please let me know if I made a good job of dinner?”

“Sure thing, boyfriend.” You grinned, giving his lips one last peck before leaning back and retrieving your neglected plate from the table. It was starting to get cold but that didn’t matter. You were going to give it a glowing review anyway.

You draped the blanket over the two of you and cuddled into him, no longer afraid to show him just how keen you were. He hummed happily at this, turning to gently kiss your temple. Your mind and body relaxed, content in the knowledge that you need not tread carefully around your Peter.

Finally, someone genuine.

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forfucksakesniall · 1 year

Text

"Breaking Point"

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Soft!Reader

Summary: In a world of fame, love, and shattered expectations, Lewis Hamilton and his partner find themselves at a crossroads. With tensions high and emotions raw, their relationship hangs in the balance.

Word Count: 2,519

Trigger warning/Content advisory: Possessiveness, arguments, emotional manipulation, intense emotions, privacy invasion, stalking, emotional conflict, verbal arguments, and intimate moments between characters. Reader discretion is advised.

Masterlist

Lewis Hamilton had another exhausting day with his meetings, leaving you with nothing to do. Bored, you checked your phone for any fun events in the area when suddenly a friend called.

"Where have you been??" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"What do you mean? I've been home all day," you replied, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, just being pampered at home," she retorted.

"Hey! He's not always home, this is our only time together, okay!" you defended yourself.

"Yeah, yeah," she giggled.

She convinced you to go out for dinner and a few drinks. Her argument made sense because you rarely got to spend time with Lewis due to his busy schedule.

You thought, "It's just a few hours. He's out too, and he'll be out late anyway. Maybe going out won't be so bad, right?"

Oh, how wrong you were.

Lewis has always been the archetypal doting boyfriend-overprotective, always watching out for you. Some may find it weird, but to you, it's charming and perfectly acceptable. You understand that his fame attracts unwanted attention from the paparazzi. Now that you're a part of his life, being the private person that he is, it becomes even more challenging for him. The thought of others knowing about you creates anxiety within him. He constantly worries when he doesn't know your whereabouts or how you're doing.

You never want him to worry about you or add to the stress he already feels from his work. You make an effort to stay out of the public eye and avoid drawing attention online. However, people always manage to find a way.

Once, when you went out to buy groceries, they somehow discovered where you lived and began stalking you near your apartment. Since Lewis would always come over to hang out. When Lewis found out about it, he insisted that you move in with him to prevent any further incidents from happening.

But ever since that, You could proudly say that you've been quite successful in keeping a low profile these past few weeks.

You carefully picked a secluded spot that would shield you from any curious gazes.

As you prepared for dinner, you chose a delightful outfit and adorned yourself with some charming jewelry, courtesy of Lewis. You applied a touch of natural makeup and styled your hair with care. Just before leaving, you almost forgot to text Lewis that you were going out, but you remembered how easily he worries. So, you just grabbed your purse and headed out.

Your friends arrived to pick you up, and together you went on your date night to the restaurant, eager for a delightful night.

After what felt like an eternity, you were having the most incredible night. It was a blissful escape from the daily routine, surrounded by ambient music and a crowd of people absorbed in their own affairs.

Phone rings, displaying Lewis's name

Lewis: Hey, baby, our plans might wrap up sooner than anticipated. Want me to pick up dinner for us? 10:30pm

Lewis: I'll grab our favorite vegan dishes from that spot we tried last week. 10:45pm

Lewis: Are you busy? 10:57pm

Lewis: Baby?? 11:10pm

Missed call from Lewis (1)

Missed calls from Lewis (3)

You had become completely engrossed in the joyous moments, losing track of time. When you attempted to check the time on your phone, it refused to open. "Oh no," you exclaimed, a shiver running down your spine and draining the blood from your face. Your friends noticed your distressed voice and asked about the issue. "My phone died," you replied, filled with worry.

Lewis parked his car and hastened to your shared apartment, a sense of unease enveloping him as you failed to answer your phone. Trying to stay optimistic, he hoped that you had simply fallen asleep or were occupied in the bathroom. As he swung open the apartment door, he called out your name with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. "Baby? I'm home!" he exclaimed. He searched the kitchen, then the bedroom, followed by the bathroom, and finally the balcony, but you were nowhere to be found.

After pleading with your friends for a ride and insisting on not taking a cab alone, you finally arrived at your apartment. Countless thoughts raced through your mind.

What if Lewis has been trying to reach you and you haven't responded?

What if he's already home?

Or what if he's not here yet, but right behind you?

You pondered the worst-case scenarios, but little did you know, things were about to take a turn for the worse. As you stumbled towards the door, searching for your keys and fumbling with your purse, it swung open, revealing Lewis, his face twisted with anger, his jaw tight, and his eyes ablaze with intensity. The air grew heavy with tension as if a storm had materialized right before you, threatening to engulf everything in its path.

"Took you long enough," he commanded sternly, his voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

"I didn't know you'd be home early," you responded calmly, trying your best not to trigger any further conflict.

"You would have known if you had stayed where you were supposed to be," he retorted sharply.

"I just needed a break," you admitted your voice barely a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

"You should have told me! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" His voice grew louder, filled with frustration.

"I went out with my friends, Lewis. I'm fine, really. I came back safely," you assured, attempting to stay composed despite the growing tension. However, your throat began to ache from suppressing your emotions.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? Are you ignoring me on purpose? Are you that sick of having me around? " he questioned, his tone laced with disappointment.

"You know I wouldn't ignore you. Why would you even say that?" Tears welled up in your eyes, fighting hard to prevent them from cascading down your cheeks.

"What then?" he interjected, his voice dripping with impatience. His frustration hung in the air, suffocating any kind of hope.

"Why can't you just be more considerate of my feelings? I give you everything, and all I ask for is a little communication, a little respect."

The weight of his words bore down on you, threatening to shatter the fragile balance between you. You searched for the right words, your mind racing to find a way to bridge the growing tension. But in the depths of your heart felt unsure and hesitant, wavering in your determination, mingling with the ache of the things left unsaid.

"You don't understand," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation. "I need space sometimes. I need moments where I can breathe and be myself, without constantly feeling the need to be watched."

His eyes grew cold, a storm brewing within them. "And what about my needs?" he shot back, his voice sharp and cutting. "Are they not important? Am I just supposed to stand by and watch you drift away?"

"That's not what I meant," you hurriedly responded, your voice tinged with unease. "It's not about neglecting your needs, but understanding that I also have my own."

His gaze intensified, his doubts apparent. "What do you think people will say about me being that kind of boyfriend?"

Silence hung heavy between you, the tension pulsating with every passing second. The room seemed to shrink, walls closing in as the weight of unspoken words grew unbearable. Your chest tightened, emotions swirling like a tempest, threatening to unleash a torrent of tears.

"I never wanted it to be like this," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, filled with regret and longing. “We can't keep avoiding this situation where you tell me what to do and expect me to always be doing it. I'm my own person too.

"We'll end up secretly hating and hurting each other."

The weight of truth hung in the air, difficult to accept. Both of you stood at a crucial crossroads, where important choices awaited and raw emotions demanded attention. The room was filled with an intense conflict, a tension that pushed your fragile love to its limits.

Lewis, consumed by anger, seemed oblivious to the hurt he caused with his words. "Damn it," he muttered quietly, avoiding your gaze. Without saying another word, he left the bedroom and retreated to the bathroom.

How could he let himself slip like that? You had been patient, kind, and loving towards him. He knew he was in the wrong, but his overwhelming emotions prevented him from apologizing. Trying to calm himself, he splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"She doesn't deserve this," he whispered to himself, a decision taking shape in his mind, one that he feared he might regret.

Left bewildered by his sudden departure, your mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts:

Maybe he's finally had enough of your indecisiveness.

Why couldn't you have simply told him where you were going?

Why don't you speak up for yourself more often?

Why do you let things affect you so deeply?

Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the bed.

"Why are you crying? There's no reason to... Don't be so sensitive," you whispered to yourself, drowning in self-doubt. But before negativity consumes your thoughts entirely, his arms embrace you tightly, his head resting atop yours.

"I... I didn't mean any of that..." Lewis stammered, regret evident in his voice. Your emotions were overwhelming, preventing you from articulating the words you desired to say.

"I know I can be overly protective, putting you in difficult situations," Lewis acknowledged in his attempt to alleviate the tension only making matters worse.

"I understand you don't want that, but considering the circumstances, it's necessary," you replied, struggling to find the right words.

"But it shouldn't be..." Lewis hesitated, realizing the weight of his words. "Wouldn't it be better if it didn't have to be this way?"

"What do you mean?" you asked your heart racing, fearing the worst.

"I never wanted to be the one to stop you from your dreams or become an obstacle instead of an opportunity," Lewis confessed, his voice filled with resignation.

Is he breaking up with me? It can't be happening…

A wave of numbness washed over you, bringing a temporary calmness. Your breathing steadied, your trembling hands stilled, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

So that's it…

"Okay," was all you managed to utter, the weight of acceptance heavy in your voice.

With words hanging in the air, a profound silence settled between you and Lewis. The room seemed to hold its breath as if anticipating the next chapter of your story together.

Unable to bear the void any longer, Lewis gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret, longing, and a spark of hope. Without speaking a word, he reached out, interlacing his fingers with yours, offering a comforting touch amidst the emotional turmoil.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, (Y/N)," Lewis finally broke the silence, his voice filled with sincerity.

"You mean everything to me, and the thought of me causing you this is unbearable."

A flicker of vulnerability danced across his face, revealing the depth of his emotions. It was a side of him you had rarely witnessed before, reminding you of the fragile nature of love and the complexities that come with it.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again, but this time they held a different quality. They were tears of release, of letting go of the pain that had momentarily consumed you. You realized that, at this moment, you both were allowing yourselves to be vulnerable, to expose your fears and doubts, in the hopes of finding solace in each other's embrace.

You took a deep breath, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly.

"Lewis, I understand that we both have our struggles and fears. We're trying to get through some unfamiliar issues together."

"But I don't want to lose you," you confessed, your voice steady yet laced with vulnerability.

His strong yet comforting grip embraced you, providing a sense of security amidst the swirling doubts. As his fingers intertwined with yours, a warmth spread through your hand, soothing your troubled heart.

"I don't want to lose you either, (Y/N)," he spoke with conviction, his voice resonating like a melodic whisper. "You're the light of my life, filling my days with endless joy and warmth. I made some mistakes along the way, but I promise to learn from them and grow with you."

In that tender moment, he cradled your face, his touch delicate and gentle. His eyes locked with yours, shimmering with filled promises. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the spark between your lips.

As the intensity of the moment lingered, you felt a wave of emotions crashing over you. The remains of the fight slowly faded, an undeniable pull drew you closer to each other. Slowly, his fingers traced the contour of your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of warmth. With every caress, the tension began to dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of longing and desire.

Your breaths intertwined, matching the want from each other. A silent agreement to let go of the past and embrace the present moment. His lips, soft and tender, met yours in a gentle kiss, making up all of the emotions that words could never capture.

As the kiss deepened, the flames of passion were ignited, consuming both of you. Lips moved in perfect harmony, exploring each other with increasing hunger and intensity. Your bodies gravitated closer, craving the intimate connection that only this moment could give. Hands roamed, eagerly exploring the contours of each other's bodies, conveying a renewed sense of desire and longing.

You both slowly sank into the softness of the bed, never breaking the intoxicating embrace. The world outside ceased to exist as your bodies melded together, entangled in a passionate dance.

In this moment of vulnerability and surrender, the boundaries between you blurred, and all that remained was the raw and unfiltered expression of love. Each touch, each kiss, became a part of your chapter, the ups, and downs, the fights and reconciliations. And as you surrendered to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions, you knew that despite the challenges, your love would always triumph, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing moment.

The chapter of your love story remained unwritten, the outcome uncertain. But as your gazes locked once more, there was a flicker of hope. It was a silent promise, a shared understanding that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but also with the potential for growth, forgiveness, and a love that could weather any storm.

Disclaimer: The following piece is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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kurogane2512 · 6 months

Note

hii! can i request Navia x fem reader where navia is possessive of the reader u can make it fluff or nsfw up to u pls🥹💗 i just love her sm now and there’s not much navia ff yet😔

HII IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE AHCIEQIDC

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Navia x fem!reader

Type: Fluff

The prophecy had come to a pass in Fontaine and people were allowed to live freely and without fear now. You were on your way to the Court of Fontaine to start your daily duty as a Garde when a familiar sweet voice called out to you.

"Oh, Y/n!! There you are!" You knew who it was all too well- Navia, your best friend.

"Navia? You are up early to—"

"Hey, listen to me! Can you accompany me to an interview later today?!" Navia interrupted as she beamed in a joyful tone and affectionately held your arm.

"W-Woah, what sort of interview?"

"Ah, Charlotte wants to interview me after all the recent events with the prophecy and my father's case, you know? I just thought of asking you to come along and perhaps you can also put in a word or two?"

You blushed feeling her so close to you, your arm pressed into her chest as she leaned on you and looked at you with puppy eyes.

"You just have to go to The Steambird, right? Do you really need me to accompany you?"

"Oh, come on, don't be shy! I'll tell her to not take photos of you, you can just stand nearby and I promise I'll be done quickly~"

You averted your gaze and struggled to reply, you weren't against going but you also had your own duties to do. Navia sensed your discomfort and felt dejected then leaned away from you.

".....Unless, I'm interrupting your work. Haha, sorry, I got a bit carried away with my own needs. But I would love for you to come."

Ah, there it was. That look and that smile that always made you agree to her no matter what. You let out a sigh then nodded, "It's fine, I'll have someone cover my shift. When do we leave?"

Navia's eyes widened in excitement and she lunged at you in an embrace, "You are the best, Y/n! Thank you so much!!"

You blushed more as she giggled and continued embracing you, you slowly wrapped your arms around her and patted her back.

"Yes yes, enough of that. Tell me the time we leave, I'll come to pick you up."

"Ah! It's at 11 am, you can meet me at 10:30 outside the base~"

You agreed with a nod and she giggled further, "Hehe, thank you, partner!~"

Then she dashed away as quickly as she came. Navia was always like that, but you found her recent behaviour slightly strange. This wasn't the first time in the past few days that she came up to you this way and clung on with some excuse, even inviting you for lunch or dinner during or after your shifts. You weren't blind to notice the absence of her usual 2 guards, Melus and Silver, then after a bit of digging you found out they died recently.... Was Navia trying to find comfort in you?

You reached outside her base at 10:30 as decided and she came out within a few seconds, all dressed up in her beautiful attire and carrying her gunbrella. She was quick to interlace your fingers with hers and pulled you towards The Steambird HQ, clearly excited for the interview but you wondered if she was masking her sadness all this time by acting this way. Charlotte was already waiting and immediately escorted you to her office and started interviewing Navia while you stood outside and waited.

"I must admit though, Navia is really suited for these things.... She shines so brightly and her smile is so contagious, to think that she cried back when all those things happened.... I should have been there for her."

You looked down and remembered Navia's state from 3 years ago when her father died and continued to be falsely accused, tarnishing her name and reputation. You helped her investigate as much as possible, even using your position in the Gardes to gather sensitive information but nothing ever worked until recently when the truth finally came out and she felt relieved. Yet, the happiness was short lived as she lost her 2 other close companions soon after.

"Thank you, Charlotte! Hey hey, I brought Y/n with me, do you want to ask something from her?~" Navia mused as she stood up and proceeded to come out with Charlotte, ready to head to the photograph studio.

"Ah— n-no, I can't answer anything so it's better you don't try." you refuted making Navia giggle and Charlotte decided to not pursue you either. You watched their photo session carry on and waited outside when suddenly Navia called you in and held your arm closely again.

"Hey, take one photo with me, Y/n! I promise, just one is enough and it won't be published anywhere! It's... just for our memories!"

You were against the proposition but if it would make Navia happy then you would accept. As promised, Charlotte only took one perfect little picture and immediately gave 1 copy to each of you then you bid farewell to her and came out.

"Want to have lunch together, Y/n? I'll book a table at Hotel Debord~"

"Ah, I'll have to return to my shift now. Some other day, perhaps."

"Is that so? Fine then, we'll have dinner together!~"

Navia dashed away before you could reply in any manner and all you could do was sigh and accept her. Later in evening, you were standing at your post when you saw Lyney and Lynette around the area and they soon came up to you to chatter away. Lynette was quiet the whole time but she was attentive to everything you said, her tail standing upright most of the time. You weren't sure what this indicated.

Around the same time, Navia approached the venue and saw you with both of them and she couldn't help but notice Lynette's upright tail and her lightly flushed expression, she immediately understood what Lynette was thinking and a surprising neediness came over her. She knew it was wrong but she wanted you all to herself. She ran up to you three and affectionately hugged you from the side while greeting them both, making Lynette slightly surprised at the physical contact but she gave no significant reaction. Lynette was too good in hiding her expressions, after all.

"N-Navia! You are already here? It's only evening!"

"Aww, Y/n, I was just wanting to see you and talk to you! And look I made you favorite macrons too!"

"Navia, I'm still on duty. I can't slack around this way...."

Lyney and Lynette soon left watching you two converse with each other, not wanting to interrupt. Navia released her hold around you and smirked to herself before stepping away a little, but still being quite close.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bother you. I really have made macrons so come and eat with me when you get free, okay?~"

"Navia, you.... Why are you doing all this?"

"Hm? What do you mean, Y/n?"

You sighed, "Look, it's no use pretending otherwise. I have noticed it a lot by now. You are acting..... different, strange even. Is there something you are trying to hide?"

Navia looked at you wide-eyed then forced a smile and averted her gaze, "What are you talking about, Y/n? I'm Spina di Rosula's boss, I have many things to do!~"

"That's not what I meant. Tell me...." you paused then cupped her face from one side, "....What is on your mind? Are you upset about something? Sad even?"

Navia was further shocked and struggled to reply then you continued, "Is it about.... Melus and Silver?"

Ah, seems you hit right on spot. Navia's eyes squinted and gave a bitter smile, "Nothing escapes you, Y/n. It's pathetic, isn't it? I know they both died honorably and I would forever cherish them in my heart but.... but they became like family to me after my father died."

You knew something was up with her. You looked around then hastily pulled her away into an empty ally then gently embraced her, catching her off-guard.

"It's not pathetic, I understand, Navia. You miss them, there's nothing wrong with that. And I'm sorry I haven't been a great friend during this time, I should have done more...."

"N-No, you are wrong, Y/n! I know you care and you do enough already. It's just I....I get lonely when I'm away from you, and I get this strange feeling of envy seeing you with others....."

"....Is that what happened earlier with Lyney and Lynette?"

Navia slowly nodded, "You are really dense, Y/n. But yes, that's what it was. I....I don't want to lose you too, you are the only one I have no aside from Spina di Rosula!"

Navia tightened her embrace and started sobbing on your shoulder, burying her face in your neck and you simply held her the whole time to let her pour her heart out. You decided it was time for you to act on your feelings.

"Listen, Navia.... I don't know if this is what you want to hear right now but I'll say it. I will always be there for you and support you, I will be there whenever you need someone, whenever you feel sad and want to let it out to someone. Whatever it is, I'll always be there. Because.... I love you, Navia. Not as a friend but more.... Would you like us to date....?"

Your face was red saying all that and Navia couldn't believe her ears, she let out a small gasp before softly chuckling and embracing you again.

"It's not what I expected to hear but it is much better than anything I expected.... Me too, Y/n. I love you as well, I would be very happy to date you~"

You looked at her shock but softly smiled then she leaned in to connect your lips in a soft kiss, your lips cuddling with each other in perfect harmony before she pulled away with a sigh and gazed at you lovingly.

"Stay with me tonight, Y/n. I want to.... do so much more with you."

#genshin impact #genshin women #genshin fluff #navia #genshin navia #navia x reader

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phicphight · 3 months

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Hey folks, we'd like your opinions on the idea of Phic Phight being it's own server, instead of being part of the DP Fanfic server. We also have a google form so you guys can expand on your answer if you'd like, but also give us any general suggestions, comments or feedback related to the upcoming Phic Phight.

Under the readmore is just some detailed explanations as to why some of the changes.

What would happen if we made a Phic Phight server?

Phic Phight section of the DP fanfic server will be archived from general view. NOT DELETED. Archived. Six months will be given for people to collect what they want before it gets archived. However, you'd still be able to request temporary access at any time to look/get what you want/need.

Joining the discord will become mandatory for Phic Phight participants. You do not have to stay after Phic Phight, and you can be as active/inactive as you wish.

Better event organization information, since users will be pinged when prompts drop and any other important information. Everybody will get it at the same time.

Since it'd be it's own server, we'd be more willing to expand on and add specific features, channels and bots for Phic Phight events.

What if Phic Phight stayed within the DP Fanfic server?

Phic Phight participants will start taking on full responsibility for checking the Phic Phight tumblr in late March/early April for prompts. Mods will no longer be directly messaging them to people.

Related to the above, but no more extensions based on people not getting their prompts. Extensions will still be offered in situations such as mods releasing prompts late or other situations out of user/mod control that effects Phic Phight.

Not having to join yet another goddamn Danny Phantom discord server.

We will continue making updates and changes in-server as needed.

Google Form, if you'd like to expand on anything or just give general feedback

Why would discord membership be mandatory if we made our own server?

It makes it easier for the mods to coordinate everything and for users to communicate. We can more directly answer questions, clarify confusion, give everybody updates at the exact same time, dedicate our announcement spaces to only phic phight, etc. Users can better connect with their team as well and encourage each other.

A big part of Phic Phight is community, especially since more recent additions have made it a good idea to work with your team to help make sure all prompts are filled. Since we're currently attached to the fanfic server, it felt unfair to require membership, but as our own server, we would operate a bit more similarly to Invisobang. Specifically where we're encouraging more collaboration. We're writing phics for each other as well as for our own personal reasons.

What kind of changes would a Phic Phight server bring?

We'd be more willing to expand and add Phic Phight specific features as users and mods seem fit. Current ideas include:

More writing bots

More phic-phight specific channels to collaborate

Random number generators, so you can roll for a prompt or make decisions based on a randomized number

Hosting phic phight focused events, such as regular sprint nights

This is just the current thoughts, but we're open to more ideas within the google form!

This server would also, in general, make it a lot easier to get information strictly for Phic Phight.

Why are mods no longer going to be sending out prompts list? How will I get my prompts? Why no more extensions?

Phic Phight prompts and teams are always consistently released 2-3 days before April 1st, and Phic Phight always lasts the entire month of April. Meaning, you can expect prompts around March 31st at the LATEST. In recent years, they are always released both in the Fanfic server as well as our official tumblr. In the past, due to tumblr constantly changing how messaging works, general confusion and the amount of participants, it's become too difficult for mods to personally make sure everybody has their prompts list.

It wasn't too bad when we had 30 participants, but now we're often getting 100+ people. That's a lot of people to individually check got prompts. It's just becoming harder and harder to make sure everybody got their list, but since we consistently release them around the same time, we decided that regardless of whether we make a new server or not, it's now going to be YOUR responsibility to check for prompts around March 31st.

Having a server means that we'd just be @ everybody-ing when they drop, versus not having a server, where they will still be posted and pinged role, as well as tumblr. Regardless of whether we make a server or not, we will still post the prompts list to tumblr and have it pinned for easy viewing.

Related, we have extended deadlines if a lot of people did not get their prompts, due to the above mentioned tumblr problem. This change would mean that we basically will not be doing event-wide extensions anymore based on tumblr users getting prompts late, which had been a semi-common past problem. We will still offer extensions in events such as mods releasing prompts late or similar situations

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #danny phantom event

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pablitosgf · 7 months

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always ! — cl16

pairings ! — charles leclerc x fem!ex!reader

warnings ! — heart break, mentions of cheating, and thats it (i think).

info ! — in which you learn the reason why y/n hates the word, "always."

authors note ! — inspired from always - daniel caesar, if you can see there are some connections to the lyrics and the events with y/n… <3

format ! — writing

Always. A word you despised, a word you hated with all your heart. It made your heart go cold and your whole body go numb. No matter the use of the word it brought you back to memories you tried to stored deep within your brain. In a chest, in fact, you tried to keep it locked but somehow it let it's way out with the word “always” and you hated how such a word could have a huge effect on you. A word so simple, yet so heartbreaking for someone like you.

Always used to be a word you loved though. A word that made your heart melt instead of break into tiny fragments like it did now. Such a word had a huge effect on you, not a bad one, but a good one back then. The promises from him included always every single time. To which you would interlock your pinky with his and repeat the word again. Thinking of it now made you break and turn into a crying fit. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Everything reminded you of him, but that word especially did.

To put it into simple terms you hated that word because he made broken promises. People constantly say, “Promises are meant to be broken.” but you disagreed with that. You hated broken promises. Even he knew, yet he decided to break those promises. He’d say things like:

“We’ll always be each other’s forever.”

“You’ll always be mine, even until the end of time.”

“Always.”

“We’re like peanut butter and jelly, we always go together.”

Thinking about those caused a stinging effect on your poor broken heart. But you could never hate him, you’ve loved him for years. The sight of him makes your heart leap but also break into a million more pieces. You could never forget the night it all happened, the night when “always” became the word you hated, the night when all the promises he made for years were broken, the night when he wasn't your always and forever anymore.

“Hi mon amour,” you said shakily as if you were about to cry any second. You knew what was about to happen, but tried your best to remain as positive as you could, so you swallowed up those tears and put on a wonky, lopsided smile. You always thought negatively of everything and he knew that. So, when you received the text of him wanting to talk to you after you got off work you assumed the worst. “You asked if we could talk?”

He looked down at the ground, not bothering to meet your eyes that were filled with love, nervousness, and scariness. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The uneasy smile on your face faltered as he still refused to make eye contact. What went wrong? That was the only question left in your head.

After a few minutes of deafening silence looming over the two of you, he finally said the words you knew he was going to say.

“I want to breakup.”

You answered by giving him a nod as tears threatened to leave your eyes, your vision had gotten blurry due to the amount of tears building up over the past few minutes. You couldn't even fight back and be stubborn to have him stay. Future you wished you had, because six months later you hadn't been over him. A decade's worth of your life thrown into the trash. You sat there as he left the shared apartment you had with him in Monaco. All you wanted to do was cry till you couldn't.

You had no why. He didn't give any closure to you, even after six months. Every day since that day you rotted in your bed crying until you were tired and couldn't anymore. This was the first heartbreak you’ve ever experienced, and you hoped this would never happen. Because at that time you thought he was your forever and always and you were his. Even after six months, you thought there was still a possibility, you still had hope he’d return to you because you would with open arms.

In the closet, you both used to share you still kept his part empty, so whenever he came back he could fill it back up with his clothes which you’d steal every day. And in the bathrooms where you still had the brush holder near the second sink, but with no toothbrush. You’d always stare through the mirror where he would be, happily brushing his teeth with a smile on his face waiting to kiss you because you didn't want to kiss him with morning breath. You kept the left side of the bed empty for him because it was the side closest to the door and he wanted to protect you in case there was any intruder. Even after six months, half a year, you still kept it that way. He moved on while you didn't.

And you remembered that day vividly.

You finally had the will to go out and have brunch, it was a one-on-one with Lily. She was one of your best friends and you’d say she’s the WAG you were the closest with. Lily and you instantly clicked when you first met. She would do anything for you and you knew it with all your heart. And you would do anything for her.

So when she whizzed her head around, looking back at you with wide eyes she quickly tried to hide you were confused. Her eyes were filled with panic and distress, you wanted to find out why. You looked behind her to find out but she kept blocking your view, and to be honest, she looked ridiculous, to say the least.

“Stop moving your head, I want to see.”

“Y/n, trust me you don't want to.”

“Lily, I don't care.”

And you wished you didn't. You saw him there with a girl, she looked very familiar to you. Then it clicked, she was the girl he told you not to worry about, and right there you were questioning his fidelity. Question if you had been cheated on all this time. And if so for how long? Just when you thought you were doing well it all fell down, all your hard work, and your progress went back to 0%. A look of pity washed through Lily’s face and you hated it. She was trying to protect you, and you hated how stubborn you were. You wished you listened. Tears welled in your eyes just like that day, you mumbled, “I wanna go home.”

Lily nodded as she went to pay for the barely eaten food then the two of you left the restaurant. You wondered if he saw you, probably not though. He seemed to be focused on his new girl. All your friends expected you to hate him after this, but you couldn't. You dated that man for twelve years and loved him since you were little.

Even after that you still kept the right side of the bed instead of the left, left the abandoned toothbrush holder, and left the his side of the closet empty. You couldn't move on to another chapter of your life. But you had to. Though, deep in your heart you still had a spot filled with love for him. Forever and…

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and 673,924 others

yourusername you said always, what happened?

view all 328 comments

lilymhe i love you so much strong girl 🩷

⤷ love u more 💕

heidiberger_ i'll be here for you forever 🫶🏼

⤷ heidi 🥹

user1 we all know who quotes are about… 😕

user2 and the caption!! 🥹🥹🥹

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ye4gerism · 1 month

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𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹 - 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 1.8k

content warning light smut - in fact it’s not even that descriptive🧍🏾‍♀️

author’s note finally back after so long - i HAVE been writing though and have a story in my back pocket that im excited to drop! :3 this is the story i was looking for beta readers for - i didn’t get any 🧍🏾‍♀️ so i’m just dropping this first chapter to get interest. if not, i’ll just release a chapter at least weekly! this is also my attempt at mature content, so bear with me as we test this out. my requests are open - so feel free to read my guidelines on my pinned and hit my inbox 😝 update: part two !!

synopsis after the rumbling, you found yourself on your feet in your home town. you have a completely new life - you’re watching your country be built again and now you have a fiancé! what happens when a man from your past reaches out to you via letter?

853

His air fills your nose as you press against him. Your breaths are labored from placing your lips where you can, hands frantic.

The adrenaline lowers and you're both back to your senses. Your clothes are scattered everywhere on your bedroom floor. He lowers you onto the bed, his heavy hands resting on your lower back as you arch into the sheets. His lips love on your collarbones and find their way to your belly button. You shudder as he moves lower and lower until that wave of unfamiliar excitement washes over you.

You're breathing heavily as he places kisses all over your face and body. He takes care of you at the end; he makes sure you're clean, warm, and comfortable. You enjoyed your night; never had you thought you'd fall head over heels for a man you met just a few days ago but here you are.

You watched as he went between putting on his clothes and looking for items he was missing. Once he was fully clothed, it finally hit you that he didn't have plans to stay the night. Your body shot up from the bed. "Jean..." Your voice trails off, pleading.

He looks over his shoulder. He finishes his look by putting his fedora on. "You know I'd love to stay...but I have somewhere to be." Regret travels through Jean's voice. He turns away from you, pretending to fix his tie.

His shoulders are tense. He takes a few deep breaths before looking at you once more. "Tonight will be my last night seeing you." The satisfaction from the night immediately vanished. Your confusion is loud. Jean sighs as he continues to straighten himself out. "I can't explain it to you now but within the next few days...months, it'll all make sense..." In the soft candlelight in your bedroom, you can see the sadness in his eyes. You wanted to question him but considering the look on his face, you decide that it's probably best for you not to know.

You can't watch him. Jean opens the front door; under the door frame, he looks at your back. He opens his mouth but closes it instead. There was no point. He'd never see you again.

After his exit, you contemplated the possible explanation for his exit. It all didn't come together until weeks after the new year of 854 when Paradis launched its attack on Marley.

Spring 857

To whom it may concern,

I didn't think it'd be appropriate to address this letter with 'Dear Ms. L/N' considering our history and the events after but I still felt the need to reach out to you.

It's been four years now? Or at least approaching four years, considering our meeting was in the summer.

I owe you an explanation. I am a Subject of Ymir from Paradis Island. At the period that we met, I was on a trip with other Subjects; it was our first time off of the island. We were there, curious about our enemies and how our military forces should move forward. I met you and you know the rest of that story. Other than my constant visits with you, I and a few others sat through countless meetings hearing about how we Subjects couldn't be "cured" or "forgiven" of our crimes.

Meeting you wasn't on my agenda. No one knew about you. During that time. I felt like the world felt like it was crashing down on me and then came you, my short-lived saving grace.

Because of my actions during the Rumbling, my home, Paradis, has outcasted me and considered me a traitor for being one of the pieces that stopped it. I live life as a Peace Ambassador now. I've been all over the place - helping rebuild cities and building connections with refugees who are still working on getting their lives back. I do live in Paradis from time to time. My mother still lives there.

I learned about you from asking around. I'm so grateful that you evaded the Rumbling. I don't know how I would feel if you passed.

Longing to see you,

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Hi. Thank you for reaching out to me. It's been a very long time and I've struggled. Went from being a woman who traveled regularly to being trapped because of the bombs and titans that were dropped everywhere. I am lucky that I have made it out with my life.

Now that I have a proper explanation, I don't feel as upset as I did seeing your letter in my mailbox. I am glad you are safe for the most part.

I am with someone. Set to be married within the next few months if life in Anahg, or the Southern Nations as the world calls it now, improves slightly more. My fiancé's name is Sebas Abe. Considering that you're from Paradis, I don't know how much you know, but he was an important political figure and diplomat for Hizuru. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time during, what you call, the Rumbling. He's a part of the rebuilding process here in Anahg but he misses his diplomat job dearly. He loved traveling the world, so he told me.

I'm curious, how is life in Paradis? Considering you're a traitor?

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

Beautiful last name. I didn't mean to come on so hard in my first letter. Congratulations on your engagement, you deserve it. I am also sorry about everything you've been through. If you don't mind me asking, what happened on your end? If it's too invasive of a question, I certainly understand. It's just something that peaks my interest considering what I do for work.

Anahg and the rest of the Southern Regions have yet to be touched by our growing alliance. I guess the focus is to rebuild the relationship between Marley and Paradis and gain the trust of other countries that weren't destroyed by the Rumbling.

If your fiancé is still interested in ambassador work, I don't mind putting in the good word for him. I have close connections to those in Hizuru, one of Paradis's allies.

Life on the island is hard. I don't get hassled a lot in my hometown; my mother was an important part of some of our neighbors' lives. I guess they feel wrong treating me differently. But I will say that I feel lonelier. I will never share a barrack, train, or be a part of a military branch again. I'm the age where I'm supposed to be at least courting someone or going out with a small group of friends but with, one, members of the Alliance being so busy and, two, my status as a traitor makes it hard to come across people my age.

I don't leave Trost, my home, to visit other parts of the island unless I really need to. Getting on transportation for work is quicker when no one is interested in speaking to you.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Well, if you're so curious, Mr. Ambassador, it's something I'd rather not relive - That's how my experience went. Eren Yeager ruined my life. I don't blame him for being angry; if the whole world was laughing at my existence, I'd bring Hell onto Earth too. But that doesn't take away that my life was taken away. Since then, I'm fortunate enough that I was able to come back home to Anagh, that it's growing once again, and that I have someone by my side. My life isn't the best but it's better than it was days before the Rumbling.

I'm sorry that your community has turned on you that way. Loneliness is one hell of a disease. I'd rather be berated than silently deal with my own sadness. I hope that doesn't sound offensive.

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

No, that isn't offensive. I sometimes wish my life was as vocal as my other friends but at the same time, I'm grateful for the dirty looks. I just wish I wasn't so in my head sometimes.

What do you mean your life now is better than the one before the Rumbling? Are you insinuating something in your previous letter? The way I remember it, I sure damn well made those last few days memorable and exciting. Your body told me so itself.

I understand I left suddenly and inappropriately but that doesn't mean you get to dismiss and deny what we had.

I thought about you too many times as I traveled. When I was alone, I thought of you and your silky skin and your pretty lips. Your body against mine.

You could be ignoring my correspondence, for the sake of your dear Sebas, but we both know why you continue to write back.

Jean Kirstein

Fall 857

Mister Ambassador,

I am married now - since the summer.

Leave it in the past, Mr. Ambassador.

Hopefully, you can continue to write me as a friend and not as a lover.

Thank you,

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Dear Mrs. Abe,

Oh, forgive me for defending my honor. I can't have you on the other side of the world trashing my character. I was hurt by my initial assumption - that you haven't confirmed.

Congratulations.

Does your husband still want to work with the Alliance? How is Anahg - from the view of someone living there? There is an opening if your husband is still interested. Negotiations with Marley are taking somewhat of a positive turn. I don't think they're completely on our side but with the help of Hizuru, we'll reach common ground.

I've been courting here and there but nothing's stuck.

I don't mind being your friend, but that also may mean that I'll stop my correspondence.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

What assumption do I have to confirm? Do you want me to be direct?

Thinking of you reminds me of what followed. The confusion and loss I felt. And the loneliness.

But, Mr. Ambassador Kirstein, ever since you've written me, when my husband is out doing his work and I'm alone, I find myself, regretfully, thinking about you and those nights before you left. And I hate it...and enjoy it. I hate it so much.

I am supposed to be loyal to my husband and yet here you are. What are the odds that you'd reenter my life? And you're not even physically by my side. I crave you. I'd do anything to have you in my proximity one more.

But for the sake of my image and my marriage, leave it in the past.

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Mrs. Abe,

Thank you for your honesty. It truly is a shame that your husband and my work are limitations. If things were in my control, I'd stop writing this letter and would be on my way to Anahg to satisfy you once more. I owe you a proper apology after my absence all these years.

I want to honor you and forget everything happened but it seems impossible now. Can you really go back to your normal life, being Mr. Sebas Abe's wife, after what you've just confessed to me?

Please, call me Jean.

Jean Kirstein, Peace Ambassador

#black reader #black yn #aot x black reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x black!reader #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #x black reader

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